RC Euro: Return to Silver Marches

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Mistle smiles at Milla.
"Nice to meet you, Milla. I'm afraid, I haven't heard of The Broken Ones... We don't get much news of the world in the place where I lived, it's just a small elven village. So far it was very quiet there. And you're right, it's on the other side of the High Forest, near the Shining Falls, if you know where that is."

 

Ilmennost approaches Mistle and gives her a slight bow while he introduces himself 'I am Ilmennost or Symon as people of this region may call me.I'm traveller and adventurer hailing from forests of Tethir.It would be a pleasure to have you with us!A little bit of bard joy is always welcome in these dark times.' he leans towards her a little and whispers '...beware of that little gnome over there,I haven't seen more suspicios person than maybe a supreme judge in the Suldanselldar...at best he will give you that 'look' and question you like you're escaped convict...'
With that,he returns to his drink...

 

Jakob sits, muttering sourly to himself over a mug of ale, about a variety of things ranging from wolves to being the "pet midget of a bunch of elves". He cuts a fairly comical figure, being small even for a gnome, wearing ill-fitting bedraggled clothes with a bright red scrap of cloth pinned to his lapel, and being somewhat overdue for a shave and a haircut. He looks up and addresses the group. Although his speech is faltering to begin with, his words soon ring with an underlying conviction which in the right circumstances could become almost oratorical. "The way I see it," he opines, "these nobles and merchants could probably stand to be brought down a peg or two - but not at the cost of human life. Actually, I see this mission not as a service to the merchants, but our duty to those humble barge workers that they risk like expendable assets - and our expenses can be paid from the swollen coffers of said merchants. Comrades, I'm in! Although, first I would like to do a spot of buying and selling in town (OOC: did we take the wolf carcasses?)." Turning to Mistle, he extends a small hand with long, elegant fingers stained with dirt, blood and oil. " I apologise if I did not introduce myself earlier, but I am afraid I am still unused to the combat and I was quite distracted with all the recent fighting. My name is Jakob Wizcrowitz, and like yourself I hail from a small mountain village, and currently wander Faerun - although 'tis the Thunderpeaks in my case. I am pleased to make your aquaintance. However, like Hayden I shall certainly observe the need for caution in these next few days - although, " he chuckles and makes gestures indicating the relative stature of himself and Hayden, "you will likely have much less to fear from me."

[This message has been edited by Ironbeard (edited March 18, 2002).]

 

Mistle picked up the coins tossed by the patrons of the inn. Mostly copper, a few silver but enough to pay for a room for the night.

OoC Hayden may relearn spells. Assume everyone on full HPs. The wolves were left (the pelts were not worth much, they were not winter wolves) Jakob can elect to have picked up the Masterwork gem tools from the mage tower.

 

Mistle relaxes a bit and smiles again.
"Since none seems to object my presence here, maybe you would be so kind to tell me more about this mission of yours? I mean, it looks like you've been traveling together for a while and know each other… there must be some reason bigger than just helping the local guilds. Are you on a noble quest of some kind? I will try to help you as best as I can… if you're willing to tell me."

 

"Yeah, you can say most of us have been together through a lot. Well, most of us..." Hayden gives a wary look to Symon.

Looking back at Mistle, Hayden face becomes very stern looking, "What makes you so willing to risk your neck to help us?"

Hayden stands up, puts his fist on the table, and leans towards Mistle, "There are somethings far worse than death, and we are going to find it... you still so sure of yourself?"

 

Garacaius laughs at Hayden's "performance";
"Aye... that'd be your breath after the party in Segga's hall, Hayden.."
He then walks to the bar to order some wine for himself and iztar.

[This message has been edited by Lokken (edited March 19, 2002).]

 

Mistle starts back from Hayden, her eyes fill with tears.
"I just said... I owe you my life... and you see, I'm a bard, I have to travel... I mean, how else would I find things to write songs about? Besides, I don't have anywhere to go now, especially alone. I understand, you don't trust me, we've just met and you don't know me... there's no way I could earn your trust in just one day.
But... what things are you talking about?"

 

Jakob slides his ale mug to one side, places his elbows on the table and leans in to observe the drama between Hayden and Mistle closely. "Well, " he interjects, carefully studying Mistle for any reaction, " We're certainly caught up in some grand plot - but I'm not overly fond of the word 'noble' myself. I'm not sure I'd be happy telling too much at the moment, and I think the others would back me up on this - we can't be sure who you'll be 'singing' to, if you catch my meaning."

 

Co ntd. under 'Rodding the Stirges'