"Hey! Where's the wench!"
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The two men press through the gap in the crowd at the door. "Lubberworts." They take a sea at a table and wait for service.
"So you people just gonna stand in the doorway or what? Some of us are thirsty you know." says a man coming up to the clot of pathfinders lodged in the doorway. "And you're letting in the flies." Indeed a two-headed, nine-legged fly with three wings buzzes past.
Zokon looks perplexed "Umm no not me, we have committed no crimes that we know of thus we are trying to sneak out and remain lawful folk rather cut our way out if it comes down to it, avoiding a posse would be difficult." he says by way of reply "'Lawful folk'--I love this guy!" Lloutz says playfully punching Zokon repeatedly in the bicep. "We ain't killed no one." Scarlet crosses her arms. "We just needto get outta here. Can you help, or not?" "Hm? Oh, I know some people who can get you out of town, but they don't come cheap and they're sher-certainly not lawful."
"Ah yes, it would by my *uh* pleasure." Illthir nods and hopes Durgan's gambit will work. And that the Baron wouldn't mind her trying to pull a fast one. Or another one. "Well certainly. Come fair minx. Fear not my half-kin. In my arms you will find the strength needed to protect you." "Maybe my lord we could accompany your party?." Zokon asks "What? Do I look like I'm made of strength? There's smarts enough too in my frame." Lloutz says searching his pockets for something. "And while two is company-" he says looking over at Serena, and Alia. "And three or four is quite alright, a dozen is definitely a crowd. Right out in point of fact." He stops his search, and looks momentarily more sober. "Wait! Raston's looking for you too isn't he? Yes. Don't deny it. What ish it? Smuggling? Murder? I hear there was a murder down in the Wash. Was that you all? If I might be so bold slayer, who was it that you killed? It might help or hurt your chances with me, depending upon my opinion of the person."
Loutz rubs his eyes in astonishment over the fact that Abalasti is not the banker.
A small crowd of courtiers wander into the alleyway after the tipsy noble bringing the "hidden" congregation to twenty travelers, party-goers, and an assortment of draft animals, supplies and a cart. Outside a large group of guards muster before the gates. Their officer steps smartly out, and begins sorting them into search parties. "The vampires.. they ate a friend of mine it was terrifying, if you run quickly the guards might save you." Zokon says in mock terror "Vampires? Good Gorum! You've been reading the copper dreadfuls, haven't you? This isn't Ushtalav you know." "Ah, nothing my lord. It's just a dumb bet..." Illthir called back at noble, unless he was moved by the tales of vampires of course! She took a moment to size him up, trying to figure out what house he belonged to and recall if they had any rivals. "Lord *{Westolv}* challenged us to a race. But the slimeball left before the gates closed and now he'll have the entire night on us! Gah! I wish there were some way we could catch up and stick it to him. If only someone could tell the guards to let us out ..." "'Westolv'! I'll have you know that I- I am a man not some stripling child!" He shouts in protest. dice:
"Oh you- He points to the correct Illthir. "You can't fool me you little white minx! You're hiding from my brother the 'Tyrant', aren't you? Such a naughty, sneaky little minx. I have a burrow nearb-" He leans forward to kiss the incorrect Illthir, nearly falls over, and straightens up again. He squints over the correct Illthir's shoulder at Abalasti. "Shay! Weren't you at the castle thish evening? Hm?" He staggers toward the suddenly wary dwarf who begins making a low growling noise in the back of his throat. dice:
"Guysh!" Shouts a tipsy nobleman from behind the clustered group. "What are we hiding from!?"
"I am Lloutz Muniair, Baron of Landfall" he says with inebriated dignity. "The Lord Mayor is my brother--half brother that is. Raston doesn't do meetings with simple friars like yourself unless he wants something." Durgan gets a bad vibe from the Baron. Here is a troublemaker if ever there was one. He has the air of a person who is both happy and spiteful over the fact that he is famous simply for being famous. Looking about Durgan notes that the man has a collection of three or four shady-looking friends. No, they are probably not actual friends. They are probably associates.
"Someone is in trouble. Hehe." says a sly-looking man in noble attire. He holds a drink up as if to offer a toast. "Cheers." |