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Post by DM Cyphus on Jan 12, 2006 9:54:15 GMT -5
The elf's comment was all too true...the problem was that it was getting "interesting" right now. Kesson had seen this before: Someone was looking for a fight and they were headed his way. Normally this wasn't a problem. In an Inn's tavern like this, the fellow looking for a fight was usually drunk and looking to take out some pent up agression on a random stranger. But now, this human wasn't drunk...and he was wearing one of the nicest suits of full plate armor Kesson had ever seen.
Arelian couldn't see it now, facing Kesson once again and about to respond to the "interesting" comment. But his trained eyes caught the subtle change in focus in Kesson's eyes. He might not have the ears of an elven ranger, but he knew the determined the steps of a heavily armored man well.
"So...you're going to work for the gutter wench now, are you?" the man inquired in an intimidating manner. He was flanked by two of his cronies, the female he had sat with earlier on his left and the elf that Kesson had caught wind of earlier on his right. "Do you care to know what happens to those who try to steal work from the Jasper Blades? Or would you rather pay us what we're owed and save us the trouble of burying your corpses in the forest?"
The woman is smiling, a sweet smile that appears awfully morbid considering the subject that brought it about. She's wearing a suit of studded leather, dyed a dull red. Two small blades, a short sword and a dagger, are strapped to either of her legs. She's a beautiful woman, to be sure, but its hard to see that when you can't help but feel she's threatening your life. Her blonde hair, pulled back in a ponytail, shifts a bit as she cocks her head waiting for your answer.
The elf's expression is stone-cold serious. Seemingly convinced that Kesson is the real danger here, his eyes never look away from Kesson. He doesn't even blink. His fine suit of studded leather armor is also dyed, though not red as the others. Kesson recognizes the colors of the Elven forests to the north. Kesson recognizes the man as a wild elf. It is a tradition amongst wild and wood elves to dye their armors the colors of the forests to better camoflauge themselves from prying eyes. The hilt of a sword can just barely be seen over the man's shoulder. On either hip, two blades hang rather loosely in their sheathes.
The human man pats the sword at his side and smiles, "It's your choice, scum."
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Post by lawfather on Jan 12, 2006 10:58:43 GMT -5
A fourth man also in heavy armor enters behind the group of three. He is dressed in banded mail and a thick mess of chain is attached at his hip. In his hands however is a heavy mace he is bouncing slightly in his open palm.
On his chest is a swirl of red twisting lines that come together to give the impression of a dancing flame. His cloak and and any clothing seen under the mail is also the color of bright red flame. He had seen this kind of behavior before and is not impressed.
"It has been my experience," he says from directly behind the armored leader, "that a well placed mace strike to the back of the head ends a fight before it begins. Now you have a choice to make. You can turn around and face me, maybe moving before I crush your skull, receiving a blade in your back for your efforts, I might add. Or you and your croneys can march yourself out from whence you came." his voice held fire and burned with passion. "A contract is a contract and I'll not be kind to those who say otherwise. If the contract was theirs over yours, you'll abide by it, or things are going to get very messy."
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Post by delkar on Jan 12, 2006 11:04:05 GMT -5
"Stealing your work? I pretty much believed that any chance of her employing you vanished when she slapped you across the face...though...I do now agree with your assessment...prissy noble." "Anyway...my friend here makes a good point...we do not want any trouble. ((Sleight of hand check to discreetly unsheath shortsword and keep out of veiw 1d20+7=19 Arelian is wearing a cloak which may or may not provide an additional bonus to this I don't know.)) ((Once the shortsword is in hand, Arelian will ready an action to tumble backwards, sideways, up, anywhere were he can put some distance between him and the armored man if he draws his sword or otherwise makes an overt hostile action.))
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Post by DM Cyphus on Jan 12, 2006 11:21:48 GMT -5
Arelian manages to slide the shortsword out of its sheathe under the cover of his cloak. Unfortunately his attention is ill-placed, as the elf draws the rapier from his and points the business end of the blade toward Arelian...yet still his gaze does not move from Kesson. He says nothing and holds the blade steady, neither withdrawing it or thrusting it forward...merely allowing it to hang as a threat.
It takes the mercenary leader and his female companion a moment to notice what provoked this reaction from their comrade. Showing no fear at having a weapon drawn to his back, the heavily armored man turns to face the new voice. "This is none of your business, stranger. These men interfered with my negotiations. He underminded the process. I will not allow that to take place in my city." He eyes the mace a bit nervously and keeps his hand near his the sword at his belt, realizing his mistake he quickly averts his gaze to meet the eyes of the new arrival.
Barely a second of silence between the six of you passes, but it feels like an eternity. It is the female who speaks first, stating what appears to be on the minds of several of the folks involved, "Jaden, perhaps we should all discuss this later. This probably isn't the best place or time for it."
The man says nothing...he merely continues to stare at the man with the mace.
((OOC: Delkar, the Elf had a readied action, and I figured that with your focus being on the leader, he might manage to get the drop on you if he made his spot [which he did]. Wasn't quite sure how to handle that...this is a bit of a tense situation...two combatants seated, several readied actions...one with a weapon drawn [now three]...and in a tight space, what with the tables around. Hope that doesn't interfere with what you were going for too much. You'll still have an opportunity to tumble away if you decide to. Just thought we'd try the talking first.))
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Post by jamondashwood on Jan 12, 2006 11:22:50 GMT -5
Jervis' attention is piqued as the group of armed men approach. It would seem he just might get the chance to see a murder after all. He quickly gathers up his paper and inkpen and walks in the direction of the comotion. He then sits crosslegged in the middle of the room only ten feet away from where the men are gathering furriously scribbling notes and drawing crude drawings of possitions of people and such.
Then without warning he says, "Shhhhhhh!" to an unheard voice somewhere behind him. "I can't hear what they're saying when you're always yacking in my ear. Can't you see there may be a murder right here in the inn?!"
He quickly turns his attention back to the men gathered there. Only occasionally conversing with unheard voices of unseen speakers.
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Post by delkar on Jan 12, 2006 11:32:28 GMT -5
"It seems we do have a stand off here...and your friend is right...Jaden is it? Perhaps it would be easier if we all went home."
((Delkar will still attempt to tumble away should he need to. I do believe...if he makes his tumble check the space he starts out in is considered "safe" from AoO, and the best way to settle it would be an initiave roll perhaps.))
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Post by lawfather on Jan 12, 2006 11:34:36 GMT -5
The mace wielding man never takes his eyes from the man's head. As he turns he raises the mace into striking possition. His large muscles are visibly tensed giving the impression he would be more than capable and willing to swing crushing the man's skull where he stands and deal with the actions that come of it.
"You'll have no more warnings from me. The next one of your friends to draw steel will be picking pieces of your skull from their clothes for days."
(OOC: I'm assuming since I'm readied and he's not I can get a surprise swing if it comes to blows?)
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Post by DM Cyphus on Jan 12, 2006 11:39:37 GMT -5
((You're both correct...but I don't think it'll come to that.)) The arrival of the Gnome and his apparent amusement over the potential bloodshed appears to get the best of the woman. "Jaden?" she inquires, in a desperate tone, "Did you hear me, Jaden? There will be better times. Better places." The tone of her voice sounds pleading, as if she were begging him, "Let's get out of here...now!" "Fine. Let them have their pathetic milk run," he tells her, managing to throw an insult your way as well, "Let's go find real work." He continues to stare at the man who arrived last as he walks past him and towards the door. When he's about ten feet away, he turns and adds, "The Jasper Blades own this town. Folks around here know that. You get one free job...that's it. But my men take care of things around here. And you aren't my men." The tavern has grown silent now. The standoff, in particular the drawn weapons, managed to attract a bit of attention. But for the second time tonight, bloodshed has been avoided by a human stranger. To most this is a relief...other, shorter, patrons might disagree. (( ))
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Post by delkar on Jan 12, 2006 11:45:18 GMT -5
Obviously releived that it has not come to blows, Arelian sends a mock salute to the departing man then turns to the stranger that had intervened, putting away his shortsword.
"It seems the both of us are in the practice of getting other people out of trouble. My name is jack, please come sit down, have a drink with us." Arelian said pulling up another chair.
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Post by lawfather on Jan 12, 2006 12:04:56 GMT -5
The armored figure watches the group go. He was grateful that it had not come to fighting. He wondered if he could take three. He longed however for the first time those men met the purification of the fire within his soul.
It is only several moments after the three of them leave that he acknowledges the greeting and the invite.
"They were right about what they said. They do own this town and your next meeting with them will not be a welcome one. If you wish to keep all your limbs intact, you'd do well to forget your drinks and go where it is you were going." He glances at the door already knowing that word was spreading quickly about what happened at the inn. "There will be a time to deal with them, they will be purged from the world, like all things, but others will take their places." The last part was more of a promise than anything else he had said. "You are taking the Milk Run?" He had heard the departing man say as much. "I too am heading in that direction. You'd best be quick."
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Post by jamondashwood on Jan 12, 2006 13:05:36 GMT -5
Jervis comes about as close to sulking as a wizard could be said to come. As they start to leave he turns his head his voice furious, "There! See what you did now?" to the voice he had previously chastised.
"If this keeps up, I'll never get the research I need." he then cocks his head to another voice as if listening. But he quickly shakes his head. "No. -I'm- not going to kill someone, even if it would aid my research. You know as well as I do the University abolished that practice years ago." A moment of silence more then another outburst, "I don't care if the University is far away now. "
He too then looks at the new arrival and stands dusting himself off. "Dirt does have such a tendency to show up on black." He sighed.
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Post by DM Cyphus on Jan 12, 2006 14:15:23 GMT -5
The tavern was nearly empty now. Between the multiple, armed individuals' standoff that had nearly escalated into a bloody struggle of arms...and the very-obviously disturbed Gnomish wizard, folks found their full of excitement for the evening. Those with rooms in the Inn were beginning to retire to them, and the locals were slowly and cautiously finding their way to the exit. A brief glance at the bartender found the man looking very displeased. And it was apparent to him who was to blame.
The southeast corner table, where Kesson, Arelian and Serol are seated, is about the emptiest location in the whole tavern with empty seats for twenty feet in either direction from the table, save the Gnome rising from the floor. As the crowd shuffles to either the stairs in the southwest corner or the exit on the center of the northern wall, the bartender behind the bar on the west side of the room shouts, "I guess we'll be closing early tonight, sirs. Please kindly show yourselves out and consider yer stay here at the Do Drop Inn finished. I'm this close," he makes a gestures with his thumb and forefinger so close together its impossible to tell if they're actually touching or not, "to rousing the guards. And you best pray this don't affect Mr. Highbringer's business here."
The evening has been cut short, and it'll likely be another ten or eleven hours before sunrise.
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Post by lawfather on Jan 12, 2006 14:39:14 GMT -5
Serol turns around at the bartender's announcement. He walks over to the bar, the slow solid 'chink chink' of heavy armor announcing each step. The mace was back on his other hip, balanced by the mass of chain on his right. One might have expected him to yell if he were upset, but Serol's anger was smoldering.
When he was close enough the bartender could see the fire within his eyes he said quietly, like steel wrapped in silk. "There are many things I can put up with, master innkeeper. But men like Highbringer are not among them. They are roughens not any better than those they claim to protect good people from. If you wished to rouse the guards, you should have done it minutes ago when it was they who upset the lawful dealings of a merchant and her contracted guards." He leans close and says, "Your inn has been spared bloodshed tonight. Pray that it remains so." Though he never says it, it is clear that is a threat. "If I so much as believe you have acted against law abiding citizens, my anger will be swift indeed. I will purge you and this inn from the face of Toril. Fire is both destructive and creative. It can clear away the old and useless for the young and strong. Care to wager on how the flames will treat your inn?"
Without another word the large armored man leaves the inn, seemingly with little care if the group he had helped to save take his advice or not.
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Post by DM Cyphus on Jan 12, 2006 14:45:57 GMT -5
It is a look of sadness that finds its way onto the Innkeeper's face rather than one of fear or shame. He opens his mouth to say something to the man who is swiftly making his way out, but decides instead to hold back. He turns to the others in a quick manner, seemingly worried they would leave before he could explain, "I respect ya, boys. I really do. It's just," he pauses as the sad look deepens, "Life is much simpler for me and mine if we stay on Highbringer's good side. Isn't anything to do with you. It's probly safer for you and yours to sleep somewhere else anyway." He frowns a little and then turns around and walks into the back room quickly to avoid engaging the conversation further.
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Post by delkar on Jan 12, 2006 15:01:31 GMT -5
Arelian will take the advice offered to him by the cleric, and make his leave following him out the door...should there be any trouble waiting outside they would be better to deal with it together.
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