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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Sniktch" data-source="post: 531538" data-attributes="member: 7704">The stranger at the King's ArmsBruskin stepped into the King’s Arms and surveyed the boisterous afternoon crowd in the hazy, smoke-filled tavern room.  This was a daily ritual for the sorcerer and the method he chose to keep in touch with current events.  He tuned out the confused babble of conversation and concentrated instead on scanning the surface thoughts of the unsuspecting patrons.“…can’t believe Lord Bryson’s raising the spice tax again…see the way she fawns over him?  They have to be…Harry better watch his fat drunken mouth or I’ll…mm, smell good here, better than dark elf place…”Bruskin stopped and looked for the source of the last fragment.  Aha, over by the bar, the bald, tattooed halfling purchasing a pair of rooms.  The sorcerer focused his attention upon the diminutive stranger and probed deeper.  The halfling, Welby Hilltopple by name, had just returned from an expedition to the nearby hills.  He had been a member of a group dispatched by Lord Bryson to investigate a number of drow raids that had occurred on the farms and villages near the old Dorien Crypts.  Bruskin sifted through several mental images of an elf, two dwarves, a half-orc, and a dark robed human wearing the holy symbol of Arawn.  Probing further, he learned that the expedition had been a disaster; only the halfling and the servant of Death had returned.  Now they searched for reinforcements to return with them to the underdark, seeking to avenge the defeat and annihilate the dark elven settlement responsible.Perfect, the sorcerer thought.  He’d trained to fight the drow his whole life, and now it seemed the opportunity presented itself to him.  He broke off the mental contact once he learned everything he wanted to know and began to push his way through the crowd in the direction of the small warrior.*****Welby finished haggling with the innkeeper and turned to find a table, two room keys clenched in his fist.  He found himself confronted by a tall human youth with flowing golden hair and a fresh, innocent appearance.  The lad wore a flowing red robe stitched with weird symbols in golden thread, and the halfling’s first thought was, oh, good, a wizard.  He tried to move past the man, but the stranger moved to block his path, extending his hand and asking, “Welby?  Welby Hilltopple, is that you?  Are you staying here?"The halfling looked from the man to the pair of keys he carried and answered, "Um, no, not stay here.  Sleep in alley after eat."The stranger ignored the sarcasm.  "I’ve been searching all over for you!  Lord Bryson sent me to find you concerning –“Welby cut him off and tried to push past, “Not now.  Find table.  Eat.  Then maybe talk.”“Oh, allow me.”  The robed youth approached one of the tables and leaned over so that he could be heard.  Welby couldn’t hear what he said but it must have worked because the seated men’s eyes grew wide and then a small flurry of activity could be seen as they rapidly collected themselves and left.  The stranger turned back to him and motioned to one of the emptied seats.  Welby shrugged and sat down, and the man took the chair next to him.  He started to speak but Welby interrupted again.“Said talk after food.  Welby not think when hungry.”“I understand, my friend.  Allow me to take care of that for you.  Eat all you want tonight, good halfling, the bill is on me.”  The barbarian’s eyes sparkled at the mention of a free meal.  All he could eat, eh?  Maybe he could stand to listen to the man.Except for what the man wanted.  He introduced himself as Bruskin, a local sorcerer who had heard of their expedition from Bryson and wanted to help.  Welby half-heartedly listened to the man while packing his cheeks with a continuous stream of mutton, ham, cheese, and bread.  Bruskin knew a thing or two about dark elves and their tactics, or so he claimed, and felt that he would make an invaluable addition to their expedition.  Finally the sorcerer concluded his speech and sat waiting expectantly for a response.  “So, am I in?”Welby shrugged.  “Me not decide.  You talk to Artie; Artie say yes or no.”“Where is Artie right now?”Welby shrugged again, “Not know.  Artie be back, you talk to him.”Bruskin tried a different tact, “OK, but what do you think?  You’ve heard my story, broken bread with me.  Would you like to have me along?  The more the merrier, like they say.”“Me think you need talk to Artie.”  The halfling abruptly rose and headed back to the bar for another plate and drink, signifying that the conversation was at an end.  Bruskin sighed; he was an obstinate little fellow, wasn’t he?  The sorcerer rose and called after him, “Alright then, I’ll talk to Artie.  I have a few things I need to take care of before I could leave town – if your friend returns before I do, can you keep him from leaving until I get back?”Welby nodded and waved him away, and Bruskin, not sure if he’d been heard correctly or not, had no choice but to leave and pray that they had not departed by the time he returned.  The story he’d told the halfling was not the truth, although much of what he’d said was true, but Bruskin was not a local.  He needed to gather his belongings from the inn he’d been rooming in and move them to the King’s Arms so he could be ready to leave at a moment’s notice, and he would prefer to take care of it before he had to pay the other innkeeper for an extra day.Several hours later, Bruskin headed back to the tavern and discovered that the halfling was still there, but had not seen or heard from his friend yet.  After renting a room and depositing his belongings, he attempted once more to try to force the halfling into making a decision with no better results.  Finally he settled into a chair near the door and waited.  He was still waiting the next morning when Artimas finally arrived in the company of an incredibly ugly halfling.</blockquote>

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