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Post by lawfather on Jan 12, 2006 16:51:16 GMT -5
Serol's eyes reflected the firelight as he listened. He knew the route they would take. At one time it was full of bandits, but now there wasn't a single caravan that left without a caravan guard. Still he needed to go in that direction any way and to earn some coin for Kossuth while doing so, he saw no way he could turn that down.
"Indeed. You have made an enemy tonight. It would be wise to stay together. But as that is already your goal, I believe you will do fine. I will join you, I know the way well. But guarding a caravan is slow travel at best. My sermons here will need to be cut short to make the journey." He pauses looking at the fire once more. "When do we leave?"
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Post by delkar on Jan 12, 2006 16:53:47 GMT -5
"In the morning, at the west gate. Unfortunately...your sermons might have to be cut even shorter perhaps." Arelian said apologetically.
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Post by silentblade on Jan 12, 2006 18:30:00 GMT -5
Kesson blinks several times as he places his tankard down on the table with a thud, “My apologies…thinking too hard.” He un-straps the great sword from his back and rests it gently on the floor next to his chair.
“That elf back there sure was lucky I didn’t loose good old Skullweaver on him and his skinny little blade.” His eyes burning with anger he looks between the cleric and Jack, “Now I am not one to be starting fights but I sure know how to finish ‘em.” He leans back making himself more comfortable as he waves over the dwarf and motions for another ale. “Bring me one of them elven rum drinks you spoke of as well good sire.”
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Post by DM Cyphus on Jan 12, 2006 21:05:20 GMT -5
Almost instantly the drink appears in front of you. The cider in the mug is very warm and steam rises as it sits in front of you. The drink is almost scalding, and the first taste reveals a strong cider taste with only a hint of alcohol. Your taste buds claim that this drink is barely spiked at all with the Elven rum. The feeling you get as it travels through you and into your stomach tells a different story however, as the heated cider and alcohol course through your veins, warming your body almost instantly. The heat and the spice of the cider mask the rum's flavor altogether, and you can imagine that many lesser men have reached their limit very swiftly with the drink, without even realizing it. As the heat dissipates and the drink runs low, the taste of the rum grows stronger and it becomes evident that this was a highly alcoholic beverage. "And that was just one shot...some of the bigger folks round here take two," the Dwarf winks cheerfully as he watches the drink fade, "Next time you're about, you'll have to try me Whiskey Ale. Nothing hits ya harder or faster, friend."
The Dwarf laughs and starts tending to the late-night customers. He continues to serve drinks to whoever requests them. When everyone is ready to retire, he makes sure to tear away from his conversation to bid you each a good night.
***
It's about two hours before sunrise when the knock comes at the door in Arelian's room. "Master Jack, sir...if you have a moment I must speak with you." The voice is clearly that of the Dwarf from the night before.
((The rest of you may go about your morning routine, if you'd be up this early. Right about now...we're talking about five or so in the morning.))
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Post by lawfather on Jan 12, 2006 21:22:03 GMT -5
Sorel did not touch a drink all night. Most of it was spent watching the fire in quiet contemplation. It would seem, for an evangelical cleric he had little to say tonight. He retired early, not nearly so as the gnome, but well before the last call.
Several hours before sunrise his eyes snapped open. It was not from alarm, or any outstanding noise except for those expected of an Inn in this neighborhood. It was because he had been woken at this hour every day of his training in the temple and every day since. His internal alarm clock naturally woke him at this time. He gathered his things and spent several minutes working the fine buckles on his armor. It was difficult to do alone, but he had much practice doing so. Braziers almost never went out in pairs, there were just too few.
While the sun was just starting to turn the eastern sky pink Sorel pulled the mass of chains from their holster upon his hip. It was a large ring connected on each side with a long length of chain. On each link was a pair of wicked looking barbs.
In the early morning hour the Cleric began to twist the chain about in smooth circular motions that extended the chains to their full length before snapping them back with a heavy crack. He moved it slow to begin with but gradually faster.
He began to work in different patterns causing the chain to wrap about his own body before he struck out with it. This however met with many unsuccessful attempts and drew more than a little cursing from the cleric as he made his way to the chain and picked it up again trying over and over.
He practiced with his chain in the yard for more than an hour. The sun was just beginning to crest its way into the sky. He could tell from the light in the sky the sun had risen.
He coiled the chain and placed it back to its holster before he turned south and dropped to his knees in prayer.
"Firelord," he prayed silently, "I ask now at this holy hour for your strength. Lend me the power to wield the flame I feel in my soul. Grant me the passion to wield your flame as you would have me. Let not your enemies triumph in any situation I face, but instead grant me the heat of my convictions so that I may purge the world of those who would stand against you. Like a forge purges the impurity from the metal I ask to temper the world to your whim. With your holy flame the imperfections will be purged and the creation left behind will be strong and malleable to your will and plan. I ask this in your name, all mighty Lord Kossuth god of fire and flames."
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Post by jamondashwood on Jan 12, 2006 21:36:28 GMT -5
Jervis had stumbled his way into a room last night and placed his things near his bed. He then pulled out a large spellbook from his things and opened it pouring through the contents for several hours. He was tired and feeling the ale, but it should never be an excuse to not complete your studying.
Several hours into the night the gnome snuffs out the candle and closes the book redoing the latch. He then rolled over and goes to sleep, not so late as one might have thought, but not nearly so early either.
When the knock comes upon Jack's door, Jervis is still sound asleep. Dreaming about what ever it is creepy little necromancers dream about.
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Post by delkar on Jan 12, 2006 22:02:15 GMT -5
Having slept in his armor the night before Arelian carefully draws his shortsword holding it away from the door and creeps up to the door opening it a small crack pretending to be groggy while his mind tried to get a grasp of the situtation.
"Yes good dwarf...? What is going on?"
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Post by DM Cyphus on Jan 13, 2006 21:45:26 GMT -5
The Dwarf was alone, Arelian could tell, but he looked a bit concerned. "Master Jack, sir. It is quite early I realize, but your priest-warrior is already awake it would seem. I get rather bored with the talk of the lads that frequent us 'ere. Mostly the same ole, same ole. I was listening a bit and heard you mention some trouble with Mr. Highbringer. I didn't dare say anything then because of me regulars at the bar needin' so much attention and not to mention the fact tha they'd be willing to sell you out to 'em for as little as an ale at the bar. Highbringer and his men stay here when they're in town looking for work. They're all upstairs right now! They don't dare stay at the Do Drop what with so many angry patrons. I keep 'em here and dinnae tell a soul what for a few extra gold and to spare the trouble that'd be sure to cause the town. I'm sorry to disturb your rest, but they'll be up shortly after sunrise or so...and they tend to be the crankiest in the morning, lad. If you'll rouse the rest of yer lads, I'll set you up with some free cider to get you goin' and then we can settle your tab from last night. But you bes be on your way, my friend. You might just be a little out of your league on this one!"
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Post by delkar on Jan 14, 2006 1:58:27 GMT -5
"Damn..." Arelian said. "Fine go on rouse them while I gather the gear. Here, for the room."
Arelian will pay the tab and a little extra for his efforts, and take the morning cider.
Arelian will tell the drawf to tell the others "to meet outside the inn with all haste."
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Post by DM Cyphus on Jan 14, 2006 12:46:37 GMT -5
"Aye, I will. The priest is in the yard near the stables here. I'll have the rest of yer men meet ya there. But hurry and be on yer way. When the Jaspers be up they'll be headin' straight fer their horses to be about their way. They aren't to be stayin' another evenin'. They apparently have business to be tendin' to elsewhere."
The Dwarf nods to Arelian and moves next to Kesson's room to rouse him and then to the Gnome's quarters to do the same. He explains that it is an emergency to both, and that they are to meet the priest and Master Jack near the stables.
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Post by jamondashwood on Jan 14, 2006 13:05:07 GMT -5
Jervis is woken from his sleep by repeated banging on his door. His eyes snap open and he considers using magic to open it. But his head still rang a little bit from last night and he wasn't quite sure he could summon the concentration needed so soon out of bed. Instead he throws on his black cloak as he makes his way out of the bed. When he answers it he is dressed once more completely in black and his hood is drawn up.
Expecting to look up to one of his taller companions he is a little surprised to see the dwarf from last night.
"I'll ask him." he says to an unheard voice behind him in the moment of silence between bangs and the Dwarves reason for knocking.
"Why is it, master dwarf, you have woken us?"
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Post by silentblade on Jan 14, 2006 17:32:24 GMT -5
As Kesson sits cross legged atop his bed deep in reverie the banging on the door snaps his eyes upon. He reaches for his short sword and moves to the door and opens it a crack to peer at the dwarf.
The dwarf warns him of Highbringer and his men and relays the message to meet Jack and the priest near the stables. With a nod the elf gathers his gear and makes haste to the stables.
Upon arrival Kesson looks between Jack and Sorel, “It seems we have gotten ourselves into a bit of a jam. If we wish to return to Antezra once we complete our Milk Run we will need to settle this with the Jasper Blades.” He pats the twin swords on his hips as he speaks.
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Post by lawfather on Jan 14, 2006 18:03:37 GMT -5
Serol, who had not been told of Highbringer, is more than a little surprised to see his companions meet him so early in the yard. Few were up so early as this, let alone with all of their gear.
He looks around and asks, "Where is the little fellow? What time did you tell him to meet us?" as he has no knowledge that Highbringer and his men are in the inn, let alone about ready to wake up, he says to the elf, "I would not worry too much about the danger we are in. The Milk Run is duely named. There are few real dangers left on the run, even though Bards surely tell a different tale. Most are just brigands more concerned with saving their own skin than gaining anything. If they are shown we are not to be trifled with they will await easier prey." His voice holds a disdain for such behavior that comes out thick. "As for Highbringer, he and his kind will get theirs. Either by us, or by another. They are impurities that will inevitably be purified by the forge of the world. I would not concern myself with them, but keep your mind on the dangers ahead."
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Post by delkar on Jan 14, 2006 23:57:03 GMT -5
"They will indeed get what is coming to them...but alas we must be on our way. If we are to face them we will do it at a place and time of our choosing not theirs." Arelian said "From what the innkeep said. I suspect they may attempt to follow us. No matter..."
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Post by DM Cyphus on Jan 17, 2006 11:05:56 GMT -5
10 Hammer 1372
The sun begins to rise as you make your way to mee the Lady Preten and make preparations to escort her family and cargo back to Lethtar. It's a cool morning, and with the sun rising the temperature is beginning to rise slightly. The sky is clear and the wind is calm. The weather in all of Lantan is relatively humid, and snow is not too common along the coasts, though the mountains are snowcapped from time to time. Though precipitation does not look like it will be a concern today. Indeed...today will be a good day for journeying.
The Tristans, the family charged with governing and maintaining Antezra, keep estates on both the western and eastern fronts of Antezra. Two other noble blood lines exist in Antezra, though none have been capable of rivaling the Tristans for many years...and none live so lavishly off of their wealth. The home on the west side of Antezra is by far the most expensive building in all of the small town. It seems out of place, almost, in this town of relatively simplistic architecture.
The Pretens are already there and readying themselves for the trip. A wagon, full of finely crafted crates and drawn by two horses, and a beautiful coach built for the luxurious transportation of passengers, likewise drawn by two horses, wait for their escorts just north of the Tristans' estate near the road to Lethtar. Both the coach and the wagon have dedicated drivers. Aside from the drivers, three other individuals accompany the Lady Preten. A man dressed in noble clothing, though with far less jewelry than is often visible on the clothes of a nobleman, is obviously her husband. At his side with one wayward arm loosely wrapped about his leg is their daughter. The human girl appears to be about five years old, give or take, and is as cute as can be with her dark hair and bright eyes. She stands about five or six inches taller than your Gnomish friend and looks about as heavy. Near the front of the gathering is another human male. He's dressed in dirty leather armor and wears a grey cloak about himself. He appears to be about the average height and weight for a human, though he looks to be built strong and tough. As he tends to the horse he is about to mount, he offers a cursory glance in your direction.
Lady Preten, catching a glimpse of you herself, begins to approach you. "Well...it appears you've lived up to your end of the bargain...Jim...Jack...what was it?" she asks Arelian without actually pausing for a response. "Your horses are prepared. Our man there," she points at the man in grey, "he will take point. The rest of you may escort us as you wish. I will leave coordination to you, as I'm sure you're quite experienced in such matters," she offers sarcastically.
"If you need assistance, however, please speak to Shernof. He can help. Payment will be issued upon arrival in Lethtar. We will feed you and your mounts at regular intervals. I expect a guard at night and vigilance during the day. This shipment is valuable to us, and it is to be protected at all costs. You are not to eat with us and I will ask kindly that you not disturb my family as we travel. Our meals will be served separately. Our drivers and Shernof should prove ample company for you, I'm sure."
"If that is all understood, we shall be on our way. If we fall under attack from brigands of any kind, I expect you to defend the shipment at all costs. Anything stolen will be deducted from your wages, and whatever cannot be deducted will be worked off in service to the Pretens of Lethtar, I assure you of that. Now...shall we?"
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