Fateful Travels

[Jadeling Hawkins]

restarting-fateful-travels-ooc-and-discussion-t3929.html
That is the thread where you can find rules, detailed information, and character profiles. This thread is for roleplaying ONLY. If you have any questions, either PM them to me, or post them in the Discussion/OOC thread above.
Now then.
Let's PLAY!!

......

Every world and culture has its own little clutch of legends and myths. Some are beyond fantastical, with strange beasts and remarkable heroes, and some foretell or warn of events that effect even those who choose not to believe in such things. This story revolves around a particular legend in a particular world.....a world filled with magic and mayhem, good and evil, and everything in between.....
For many years and generations, there has been a legend foretelling of a time when the limits of brotherhood and peace are stretched nearly to the point of snapping. Trust between races is minimal at best, and strange beasts rove the world delighting in its sad state. At this time, a small group of mismatched travelers would band together, led by a disciple of fate, to gather five sacred, unassuming objects with various powers in order to summon to earth a golden temple. There, they would be given the final gift needed to restore peace and maintain a necessary balance to their world. But their success or failure was to be determined only by their own choices...
Now, at a time that no one expected, in a town filled with nothing special, a small group of strangers are about to become a small group of heroes, drawn together by fate....or highly unlikely chance.


.....


The day was unextraordinary. The sun was not overly bright, the clouds not overly gray over noticeably puffy. The kind of day on which one might awaken and decide to start a whole new outlook on life. To cut their hair differently, to change their style of smock, to finally express their feelings to their secret love of many years. Or the kind of day on which this same person might decide to sleep in and catch up on their reading.
The town of Klastor, (which really, was more of a city, but was called a town so as not to insult Stensa, Castille's real Capital City) was mildly busy on this day. A slight humming breeze lazed through the semi-cobbled streets, pushing leaves that were hinting at fall off of signs and into corners in front of the shops. The children of the town who were not yet old enough to be left to the designs of a teacher, or old enough to have decided that teachers were too boring to entertain them for a day, dodged each other and laughed as they ran amok with youthful abandon. Housewives hurried about to pick up their bits of food for the evening, or, if their husbands were dutiful enough, the week. In front of one smoky building, a blacksmith smacked away at a steel blade he was repairing for a young knight, who stood off nearby looking as though his first child was having his hair trimmed for the first time.
Outside of the city-town, a sparse bit of foliage lingered and fluttered in the remnants of breeze that had been strong enough to push through the yellowing leaves. It was from these shadows of leaves and limbs that a slight figure strode out, looking for all the world as though it had willed the trees to be there in the first place.
Covered in a dark green cloak, the striding figure was difficult to identify as anything specific. Short of height, either young and small or old and withered. The folds of the cloak disguised any tell-tale curvature that might have given away a gender, and the drawn hood gave away no hints as to the identity of the figure. But the slight swagger of step and the one sword visible at the person's hip suggest that to trifle with this creature would be unwise. At the edge of the town, the figure stopped, one smooth, deeply tanned hand coming to rest on the hilt of the sword. The figure twisted, looking back to the trees, and a slightly gruff, drawling woman's voice called out, "Gwen, git that puppy under control an' let's go!"
The woman (apparently) was soon joined by a young woman with blue-tipped brown hair, carrying what appeared to be a fuzzy ball with ears in the front of her shirt. As soon as her young companion had come within spitting distance, the green cloaked stranger went right on striding into town, looking up at signs for something of use. "I guess this ain't half bad for a night or two.." The lilting voice sounded again, "..look for an inn, and let's see if we can spend a night without paying for fleas, for once."

[Skallagrim]

The town of Klastor sat under the azure skies and warm sun. The breeze that gently swirled carried with it the squeals of children playing and the smell of wondrously prepared food. The great helm in his arm Lars peered down at the town, the activity told him this was a good town, a happy town, a place to relax after a long ride. Closing his eyes as he heard the clang of the blacksmith he was reminded of times long gone by, when he was younger, in another place, in another time. Opening his eyes he smiled wistfully and donned the great helm again.

The long spear sat cradled in the boot on his barding, the thin banner flicked and danced in the breeze. The kite shield held on his left arm, the heavy hooded tunic fluttered gently as he trotted towards the town.

Lars always felt uncomfortable riding into towns like this. While a knight, he was never quite sure how people would accept his presence. Some towns had their own knight-protectors, others had town constables. Unsure of this Lars always made sure that he would wait outside town until someone bid him enter. He did this as was customary of knights of his lands, he rode to the edge of town and sat still. The buzz of insects swatted away by the tail of his warhorse, he waited.

Gray-blue eyes scanned the area through the slits of his helm, he saw children stop and stare, some pointed, others ran for their fathers. Lars uttered a prayer to Myra:

“Goddess I pray thee for peace and sanctuary in this town. I humbly beseech that your grace and divine blessing protect me and embrace me. What ever thy will of my life may be I humble acknowledge your direction. Amen.”

Lars touched his helm with a fist as he observed people starting to stare and gawk at him. Perhaps it was the standard or heraldry on his shield, a double griffon on a green and white backing outlined in red.

Lars’ stomach grumbled as the smell of sweet meats wafted through the helm and into his nostrils.

[Feleon]

Xuphratacus walked slowly, swiveling its head for any signs of a library or book store in this town. It stopped looking a sign reading "Connor's Books."

Knowledge.

It stepped into the bookstore, looking for the proprietor of the establishment. A man called at it:

"Hey, you okay over there? I'm Connor, the owner."

Xuphratacus heard the voice, stepping towards the sound. It reached him, staring at him.

What book contains the history of the new world?

Connor looked startled, first watching it, then replying:

"You speaking or what?"

Answer, human.

"Woah, you doing some telepathic stuff?"

I speak this way. Answer the question.

Connor glared at him, then nodded, heading for the back room. He came out with a large hardcover book in his hands, the title reading "The Recent History of Civilization."

"All I got, and it's 30 gold or nothing. Pay up."

Xuphratacus summoned 30 Gold, then placed it on the table, picking up the book afterwards. It turned and left, heading for a place known as an "Inn" to rest.

[Gwen]

Gwen starred at the green-cloaked woman as she strode away into the town. Jade's in a good mood, she thought.
Gwen chuckled and pulled down the hood that covered her face. Long, wavy, brown hair with blue tips fell about her shoulders. Piercing blue eyes shone from behind dark eyelashes surrounded by chiseled features. She could have been considered a normal young lady if it weren't for the white husky puppy head sticking out of her shirt. It barked at her for some attention and she lifted a gloved hand to scratch behind it's ears. "Hush, Renmith. We don't want to draw too much attention." The puppy growled and nibbled at her fingers, it's yellow eyes always attentive to it's surroundings.
Gwen followed after the woman, humming softly as she went.

[Village Alchemist]

"Wilkes, are you in there? Open the door!"

Ernest Wilkes did not look to the door of his workshop as Fredrik the tax collector banged away at it with his fist. "I'll be there in a minute!"

The alchemist was standing on one foot: on the other, suspended in the air, rested a frying pan full of dark brown egg yolks. In his right hand, he struggled to hold a whistling tea kettle by the spout as he hopped one-leggedly to a counter to put it down. In his left hand was a box of matches and a vile of rhinocerous blood.

He teetered awkwardly through clouds of purple fumes that plumed out of his crackling fireplace. As the tax collector continued to knock outside, Wilkes managed to set the kettle down on a counter.

"Mr. Wilkes, if you do not open this door by the time I count to five, I will break it down and put you under arrest!"

"All right, hang on, hang on!"

The elf stumbled over to the door and opened it with his free hand, being sure not to drop the eggs or spill the blood.

Frederik Alison, a massive man with a powdered wig that offset his thick black mustache comically, stood before him. "Well," asked Alison, "do you have the state's money YET, Mr. Wilkes?"

The taxman coughed; the purple fumes spilled out onto Wilkes' doorstep, releasing the rancid smell of roasting oyster zombies (why Wilkes was roasting oyster zombies, only he knows) for all the world to experience.

Wilkes put one finger up into the air. "I will. The day after tomorrow, I'll have all the money I owe, I promise!"'

He tried timidly to turn around, but felt the frying pan slipped dangerously to one side of his foot. He stopped.

"Listen here, Elf," scolded Alison, "the Beaurau of Taxation has been more than patient with you, and you haven't payed up for three months now." He took a step closer to the alchemist. "Now, there's a reason they hired a man almost twice yer size to get the money for you."

Wilkes looked up at the man's blocky face with wide eyes. "Well," he explained, "You see: my shop hasn't been making much profit lately--"

"Have you actually been selling anything?"

"No, but that's not my point; let me finish Mr. Alison. I--I, uh, have been researching these past few months. Yes, re-reasearching. You know elephantitis? I'm nearing a breakthrough; a cure for elephantitis, Mr. Alison! Can you imagine?" Wilkes' face grew wide to accomidate his smile, "Now, surely that will do much more good for our nation than, um, a bag, er, pouch of measly coins!"

Alison cocked his head to one side and said, "I haven't the slightest clue what elerphantitties are, and I don't care. If you don't pay, Mr. Wilkes, I don't get paid. Understand?"

"Elephantitis! You, uh, you, you never heard of elephantitis?"

A rough, burly hand closed around the alchemists' yolk-stained apron. His vile, matches, and frying pan tumbled to the floor.

"The key to your shop, Mr. Wilkes," the taxman demanded.

"Uh, wha-wha-what?"

Alison bent over and put his face directly in front of Wilkes' as if that would help the elf hear his demand better. "I am siezing your property in the name of the king. Give me the key or you're under arrest."

With a wide frown on his face, Wilkes reached into one of the many pouches that hung from leather cords on his robe and withdrew a small copper key.

"Thank you," said Alison. The man took the key and pushed Wilkes out onto the doorstep. In one swift motion, the tax collector closed the door, locked it, and pocketed the key. "Now," he ordered, "You are going to walk away. When I can't see or here you innymore, I will go back to the beaurau and see what they want done with this place.

Wilkes only nodded and slowly stalked away down a random alley.

[Skallagrim]

Lars sat and waited as the minutes passed painfully slow. Waiting was the worst part of this ritual. As the minutes continued to pass, a small contingent of armed men rode forward, stopping some distance from Lars. They were armed and armored as knights would be, but the way they carried their weapons, sat astride their chargers told Lars all he needed to know. They were not professional soldiers.

The largest one rode forward a few paces, his gleaming chain armor looked well oiled, His mounts mane well groomed, the thick leather of the barding had not seen much wear and looked almost new.
"Sir Knight, I am Sir Sebastian..." It was clear that he was hoping for recognition from Lars, when none came forth he turned back to his companions a moment. At their urging he wheeled around majestically and said with some disdain "Why are you here sir knight?"

Lars smiled, his eyes traced the movements of the three men. They were all his age, perhaps even a few years older, but they had seen limited conflict. Their mounts were skittish, the way the horses kept moving back and forth, shifting their stances told Lars that they were show horses.

"Sir Sebastian I am Sir Lars, Son of Grim. I am a landless knight seeking largess and comfort in this town. I shall pay my lodging and merely seek your consent to stay at the local tavern." Lars called out, his baritone carried in the breeze. They dust kicked up by the other knights slowly flowed past him.

Sir Sebastian turned back to his companions. As they conferred Lars saw the children standing in the shadows of the buildings their eyes wide as they spoke in animated gestures. Several adults were also milling about pointing at Lars and the ritual that was occurring.

Sir Sebastian turned his large charger around and shouted "Sir Lars we grant you largess as a knight. Welcome to Klastor." The way he spoke reminded Lars of a pompous bully, as if he were somehow better than Lars. Nodding his head and lowering his shield slightly, Lars started forward until he was side by side with Sebastian.

"Thank you kind sir, where is the tavern of this town where I may seek solace?" Lars asked, never removing his helm.

Sir Sebastian had started when he saw the battle worn condition of Lars' equipment. The way the leather was worn and smooth. The paint scraped off the shield and the notches on it. The discolored links in the mail where weapons had crashed on it. The faded blood spray pattern that tunic and shield made Sir Sebastian wonder who this knight was. Peering at the tarnished great helm he snorted and pointed down the road. "Follow this main road, you shall see a stable, the tavern is near the stable. May the Gods protect you Sir Lars."

Lars paused then said solemnly "May Myra bless you Sir Sebastian." As he slowly trotted between the other two knights towards the tavern.

[Jadeling Hawkins]

The green cloaked figure had stopped, her hooded face pressed up close to the glass display window full of shining trinkets and baubles. She stood on booted tiptoes, dark, semi-gloved hands cupped around her hidden face as she admired the treasures. Finally, she sighed and stood back, doing her best to ignore the almost scolding look that her young companion was giving her.
"I was just lookin'," Jade stated out loud to her puppy-carrying friend, while mentally promising herself to attempt to return. She then turned, glancing at the small platoon of soldiers that were leading in..
"Oh, lovely.." Her tone suggested that her nose had wrinkled in distaste. "There's a knight here..."
Heaving an aggravated sigh, she turned on her heel and headed towards the nearest tavern. She didn't bother instructing Gwen and her puppy to follow...they usually didn't need to be told.

Stepping into the dimly lit building, Jade looked this way and that, then finally decided on the furthest table in the darkest corner. It was the least likely place that they would be bothered. Plus, people frequently left unattended valuables in such places. She elbowed her way through the other patrons, finally setting herself onto one of the rickety benches.

[Gwen]

Gwen rolled her eyes as they walked into the tavern. Her friend always managed to stop at every window with something shiny in it to stare and gawk. Oh well, I suppose I would get worried if she didn't pause to look.
They walked to the back of the tavern, Gwen keeping an eye on her mentor's sticky fingers. As they sat down at a table Gwen slipped Renmith out of her shirt. "Here," she said, "stretch out your legs for a bit, but keep out of sight."
She set the puppy on his feet, and he stretched dramatically, fanning out his three tails behind him. "If only you could hide you're other tails, then I wouldn't have carry you all the time."
Gwen turned her attention to her companion. The figure was just a shadow in the low lighting of the tavern.
"So tell me, what are we doing in this town anyway?"

[Jadeling Hawkins]

The darkness of the tavern, coupled with the darkness of Jade's hood, caused something slightly unusual to occur. From the shadows that made up the odd woman's face, two bright green, very round shaped lights shone out, offering just a bit of detail to the otherwise hidden visage. Though it wasn't entirely visible, a crooked smile flashed under her hood. "Oh, just a bit of the usual, I suppose. Restin' up, refillin' on supplies."
A serving wench strutted over to the table, but before she could even considered taking their orders, Jade snapped out, "Pint of ale, mug of water, two plates of whate'er meat you've got lying about that ain't bleedin'. And be snappish about it, if you don't mind."
The girl appeared somewhat put off by this snippy order, but turned and huffed right back to the bar to get it filled. Jade turned back to Gwen.
"I like this place."

[Skallagrim]

Lars rode slowly down the street. He cared little for the town guard that followed a respectful pace behind. Meandering slowly through the crowd as they bustled about their daily lives, shopping, selling and bartering for their existence. The smell of the stables lured Lars towards it, the tavern just a short away past it.
Entering the stables Lars dismounted and spoke to the stable hands, after a moment he hand a tallish boy a few silver coins and left the reins in the boys hand.

Looking at the people bustle by, Lars inhaled deeply, the smell of cooking food filled his nostrils. A unnoticed smile behind his helm flashed across his lips. Many people stared and whispered as Lars walked past them. He was used to this, as it was the reaction he often had gotten the last few years of travel. There were knights and there were soldiers, few common folk could tell the difference. It was when a knight was actually around that the difference was noticeable.

Weaving his through the crowd Lars finally made it to the tavern. Opening the door to the tavern Lars stood there for a moment to let his eyes adjust. The sunlight framed his body, glinting off the chain armor, adjusting his vision he turned to look at the crowd in the tavern. The bright sun reflected off his great helm casting a scintillating display of rays that danced around the room.

After a second he stepped forward and into the gloom, he made is way to a table. Several men in the tavern began to mumble amongst themselves, the presence of a knight often did that. Many commoners saw knights as arrogant nobles, and little use to them. Finding a table besides some men, who promptly stood and moved to another long table with others they knew, Lars stretched and slowly removed his great helm, chain bascinet and arming cap. His red-blond hair fell on his shoulders. His gray-blue eyes scanned the room again.

Placing his shield, helm and head gear down he sat down and watched a serving wench grab an order from a table in the back. Catching her eye he waved her to him.

His baritone voice rang out as he ordered "A pitcher of mead and some sweet meats and a haunch of venison if you have any, if not, boar." As the woman tottered off he sighed and let his muscles unravel, feeling the tension slowly dissipate.

Bowing his head he prayed aloud "Myra, goddess of peace. Relna, goddess of life, 'Lo bless my stay here at this tavern. May the bounty you provide sustain me, may my presence be a boon to those around me."

[Gwen]

Gwen laughed at her friend. "Jade, you like any place that has a pint of ale to offer." She turned to look around the tavern. People of all sorts scuffled about. Men sat at the tables carrying on long stories of forgotten battles, others lurked in the shadows exchanging secret deals among each other. Wenches floated in between the tables and the bar, loaded with drinks and foods and desperately trying to dodge the scoundrels that made advances at them.
Gwen studied the glowing green orbs that hid with in the hood of Jade's cloak. It always intrigued her that Jade had no pupils. One of the many unique characteristics of her mentor.
The door swung open and the knight Jade commented on earlier strode in, his helmet casting bits of reflected light around the room.
"Do you think that knight is going to be any trouble? It wouldn't be the first time one of them has taken up a bounty on you."

[Feleon]

Xuphratacus watched several people move in before it followed. A knight, a hooded person, and a women.

Hmm, interesting.

It reached for the door and opened it, only to be greeted by a drunk being thrown out. Xuphratacus sidestepped as the man hit the ground face-first. It heard the owner yell:

"Don't you come back in here again or I'll get the town guard on ya!"

Drunken happiness. Keeps me from being noticed, good.

Walking inside, it caught sight of the women and the other two. It moved for the seat next to the hooded one and sat down. As a bartender moved to take its order, Xuphratacus spoke to the hooded one.

Tell her that I want a pint of water and an apple. That's it.

It watched the green eyes. A lack of pupils distinguished them from others, and they were bright.

[Skallagrim]

As the food and drink arrived Lars stood and drew his sword and sheath from the belt loops that secured it and placed them on the table in front of him. The steaming food smelled exquisite. The mead, cool and refreshing, cascaded down his parched throat.

Lars ate in silence, his eyes scanning the room, falling on the shadowed corner where three people had gathered. Lingering a moment he let his gaze drift until it settled on a table of boisterous men at arms, who were a ragged group to say the least.

When the barmaid wandered by, Lars indicated another pitcher of mead and continued to wolf down the meats.

[Jadeling Hawkins]

Jade was silent for a moment. The unusual green lights under her hood had fixed upon the face of the night. Obviously, her expression was unreadable, but the silence usually meant she was thinking.
She made a general habit of avoiding knights...and anyone that wore armor, really. As Gwen had stated, they tended to disagree with various assets of her character. And while there was really nothing like a good fight to get the blood pumping, she felt no need to be pitchfork chased out of town so swiftly after arriving.
This particular knight, however, struck her as...interesting. Not bad looking, of course, but physical attractiveness rarely caught her eye. Well, perhaps 'never' would have been the more appropriate term. Being distracted by a member of the opposite sex had resulted in many of her fellows dancing jigs at the ends of ropes. Or worse, having all of their possessions stolen.
It wasn't that he seemed to be an immediate threat. He carried a sword, yes, but most fighting personages who came looking for trouble came in with their weapons drawn and their eyes flicking about seeking a skirmish.
It wasn't even the fact that the other menfolk seemed keen on avoiding sitting to close to the knight, as though worried his pious nature would rub off on them.
There was simply something about the hungry knight that caught her attention, and kept it as the wrapped up creature slid in to the table she was sharing with Gwen, whose question was never really answered.
Tell her that I want a pint of water and an apple. That's it.
Jade's eyes left the knight's catching face for only a moment to look at the silent face of the newcomer. She reached up, seized her mug, and downed it in a single head toss. Clanking the thing back down, she spoke to their server, who was laying down still steaming meat.
"Another pint of ale. And bring a pint of water and an apple for me swaddling mate here," She added, hooded head nudging in the direction of Xuphratacus. The bright green orbs then returned to the knight across the room. Their server nodded and hustled away.
The strangest people always sat at that table.

[Gwen]

Gwen couldn't help but notice Jade's interest in the knight sitting at the far table. Gwen looked him over as well. He didn't seem to be looking for trouble, but better safe than sorry. She slid her hand underneath her cloak to give her back a good scratch, making note of the hidden dagger that lay at the ready.
Gwen wasn't phased when the stranger wrapped head to toe in white cloth sat next to her friend. Rather, she bent down to pick up Renmith and sat him in her lap, stroking his soft white fur. He perked his ears forward and sniffed the air towards the stranger, flicking his tails back and forth.
What do you think, Renmith?
I scented it half an hour ago. It's intentions are harmless. Just a wanderer.
Then why, I wonder, would it stop at our table?
Why don't you just ask it? Renmith yawned as if extremely bored. He curled up in Gwen's lap and closed his eyes, but kept his ears up at attention.

[Feleon]

I can hear you human. And answering your question, your hooded friend is less noticable, so I can speak easier.

Xuphratacus glanced at the other woman, seeing if she was startled from its telepathic speech. It then noticed the server put a mug and apple down in front, then scurry off. It picked up the mug in the right hand, then balled the left into a fist, a small blue emitting from the inside as Xuphratacus disappeared. It headed to a dark corner of the Inn, taking the water and apple with it. The cloth around the mouth was pulled down, and the water drunk in a single, long draught. The apple went down only slightly later.

The nourishment filled Xuphratacus slightly as it headed back for the stool. It put up the cloth back over its mouth and nose, sitting down and placing the mug on the table. Holding up the fist again, the magic was dispelled and Xuphratacus reappeared again, getting more than a few stares from nearby people.

I need to prevent myself from doing that in public.

Nodding at the server to take the mug, it then listened to different conversations from the drunkards around it. Taking out the book it recently bought out of the wrappings of the cloth, Xuphratacus opened it and started reading.

[Skallagrim]

Lars pushed away the trencher of meat. His hunger sated by the food. A huge smile spread across his face as he stretched and washed down the last of the meat with another mug of mead. The honey wine was one to the best he had drunk in a long while.

The people of the tavern, many of whom appeared to be towns folk, seemed to stay away from him. A wistful smile as he nodded good naturedly at a few of the townsmen, only to be given a cold shoulder. Sighing contently Lars eyed a burly man who appeared to have had a few tankards too many. He was among the boisterous men-at-arms and his voice was the loudest of the braggadocio being bantered about.

Lars watched the table, his eyes narrowing occasionally as the men barked and hooted about their prowess on the battlefield and in the sack. Several of the bar maids seemed to have a different opinion of the latter and Lars could assume a lack of skill in the former.

As his eyes scanned the room again his eyes fell to the darkened corner, curiosity filled him at the odd shapes that seemed to inhabit that area. A soft chuckle escaped his lips as he thought to himself "'Tis always the same, a darkened corner attracted the shadowy elements."

For a brief moment he thought he was being watched from the shadowy folk, he flashed a quick smile and nodded his head then his attention turned back to the loud, brash clamor. The men seemed to be working themselves up for something.

[Jadeling Hawkins]

Jade's eyes flicked back to her mug. The knight had smiled, nodded, and in general appeared to notice her watching him. This was not something that pleased her.
What pleased her even less, however, was the noisy crowd seated only a short distance away from them. Listening to decent bragging matches could be highly entertaining, of course, but only when they were done properly. These men were simply loud, stupid, and smelled of sweaty cabbage. Aside from that, their occasional thrashings as they retold tales of their exploits was causing grog to fall to the floor...and there were few things more tragic than wasted grog.
Finally, they struck just the right chord on her nerves.
One of the men staggered back under a blow from his friend's fist, all of the others roared in laughter. The foul smelling human slipped and slupped and came to a firm landing...right next to Gwen. At the sudden proximity to the pretty girl, his friends howled their amusement and approval. Jade didn't wait for the man to make some inappropriate suggestion to her young protégé, but hopped to, placing a booted foot on his swollen belly and giving him a hard shove to the floor.
This done, she sat back down, growling about twittish drunkards.

[Skallagrim]

Lars started when the drunkard fell next to the table he had been occasionally eying. When a hooded figure stood up and booted the oafish man to the floor, Lars chuckled along with the rest. However Lars detected the change in the drunks attitude. Especially the largest man, who seemed to be staring with lecherous intent towards the table.

Lars stood and hefted his sheathed sword and took a step closer to the table, placing him next to the table of drunks. Facing the table he smiled at the drunken men whom felt his presence and turned towards him. For a moment their eyes fell on the loosely held sheathed weapon. Several of the locals that had occupied seats in the area quickly stood and moved to either side. Armed conflict in an enclosed area often made for nasty wounds, to intended and innocent alike.

Movement and banter had stopped through out. A table of drunken men-at-arms being loud and boisterous was one thing, a table of drunk men-at-arms facing a knight was another. Many people were easing themselves to a standing position. The tavern owner gulped as he watched the events unfold.

Lars smiled at the men, his brown tunic falling easily around him, giving him a monk like visage, however the heavily mailed hands holding a large, sheathed sword shattered the illusion. For few monks carried weapons, and fewer still wore chain armor. The heavy war hammer and thick bladed dagger still on the wide sword belt didn't help. Gray-blues eyes held a hint of sadness when they fell on each drunken man, as if measuring their souls, before moving to the next.

Lars baritone voice, smooth and calming rang out in the awkward silence as he addressed the table of drunks. "Truly the goddess Myra has graced this day. Come gentle fellows, pray let us enjoy the blessings she has afforded to us and drink to our health. And the knowledge we live to see the morrow's dawn."

The implied threat was there but Lars hoped the sodden minds of the men would fail to pick up on it and see only an opportunity to drink another tankard.

[Jadeling Hawkins]

"Keh," One of the less drunk...or perhaps one of the more drunk men snorted and spat something foul at Lars' feet. "Go pray innee ole chappel, ye metal bucket!"
Jade couldn't help but chuckle, setting down her mug. "Such sharp words, coming from such a soft gut. But I'd spare a guess that Sir Knight's stick there is a wee bit sharper. Mayhaps you'd best save your breath to cool your porridge, mate."
This did not seem to soothe the alcohol-inflamed temper of the man who had spoken. He lurched to his feet, struggling to withdraw his dirk from its sheath, and failing miserable with the little balance he had not drunk away. He nearly toppled himself in the attempt, to the great amusement of those nearby. Finally, the dirk was released, and the man strode forward, red faced and weapon-waving. "Stay outta this, ye little shadow!"
"Gwen, watch my drink."