RP channel logs: Czrel, Morneson

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[RP]: Czrel staggers into the River's Bend Tavern and slumps on the table.
[RP]: Morneson watches the young Drasnian man collapse onto her table with a raised eyebrow.
[RP]: (Czrel): Chere, the waitress, hurrys over to inspect the wounded traveller.
[RP]: (Czrel): She gasps, and shouts for aid, 'Someone come and help this poor man.. He's bleeding! '
[RP]: Morneson stands up and examines the man carefully, then draws out a roll of bandages from her satchel.
[RP]: Morneson looks up at Chere. 'Help me lift him up onto the table.' she says softly.
[RP]: (Czrel): The crowd around the table only watch. The entire room falls silent.
[RP]: (Morneson): Chere, clearly shaken, nods, taking up the Drasnian's legs. Together they heave him onto the table, where Morneson can see the injuries more clearly.
[RP]: (Czrel): Blood trickles from the ground to the table, creating a crimson mess all over.
[RP]: Morneson quickly rolls up the man's pants to his knee, and wraps the long gash tightly. 'One...' she mutters under her breath.
[RP]: (Czrel): The waitress then rips open the young man's tunic at his wound. Red fluids ooze out from the deep cut.
[RP]: Morneson takes out a handful of herbs from her belt pouch and packs them into the cut. She swiftly winds the strip of clean cloth around his torso with the help of Chere, who supports the man.
[RP]: (Czrel): Blood continues to flow rapidly out of the wound. Chere sighs, shaking her head.
[RP]: (Czrel): 'Can he still be saved? ' The waitress asks.
[RP]: (Morneson): 'Possibly. If the wound doesn't get infected.'
[RP]: (Czrel): Chere keeps her silence and watches. She prays to Belar that the young Drasnian will be alright.
[RP]: Morneson frowns slightly, while taking out another bandage and coiling it into a compress. She speaks while she is working.
[RP]: Morneson snaps at Chere 'Get me some water and a clean cloth.'
[RP]: (Czrel): Immediately, the waitress bashes through the crowd and heads for the kitchen.
[RP]: (Czrel): Within seconds she reappears with the items that Morneson had asked for.
[RP]: Morneson takes the cloth and douses into the water. She uses the cloth to clean the remaining wounds, and binds them with strips of cloth from the man's tunic.
[RP]: (Czrel): Chere merely nods at the Sendarian woman. Then she begins to wipe the bloody mess from the table with a corner of her apron.
[RP]: Morneson absentmindedly wipes her bloody hands on her leathers, while scanning the man's body for any more wounds.
[RP]: (Czrel): 'I hope he will be fine. '
[RP]: Morneson shrugs. 'We have to wait and see.' She washes her hands and arms in the bucket. 'Got a room? I've had enough of people gawking at us.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Some people in the crowd look away guiltily.
[RP]: (Czrel): The waitress' eyes glitter. She nods and shows the pair upstairs to the hostel rooms.
[RP]: (Czrel): 'We do have vancancies. '
[RP]: (Czrel): Then Chere, together with the help of Morneson, heaves the young man up and carries him upstairs.
[RP]: Morneson looks down at the unconscious lad on the bed expressionlessly.
[RP]: (Czrel): 'I shall take my leave, ' Chere says and exits the room.
[RP]: Morneson leaves the room, closing the door firmly behind her. She gathers up her belongings and returns to the room again, ignoring the eyes watching her.
[RP]: (Czrel): The crowd downstairs had seemed to regain it's usual bustle.
[RP]: (Czrel): A fight had broken out but the noise could not wake the young Drasnian.
[RP]: Morneson keeps an ear cocked for anyone walking up the somewhat creaky stairs, while leaning against the wall, eyes trained on the Drasnian.
[RP]: (Morneson): After some cracks and wood splintering, the sounds of the brawl cease. Morneson remains in the same position, absolutely still.
[RP]: Morneson sinks into very light sleep, flinching awake at any unusual sounds.
[RP]: (Czrel): The sun rises.
[RP]: Morneson opens her eyes when the sun's rays bathe her in gold. She shields her eyes with a hand, while shaking the grogginess from her head.
[RP]: Czrel greets Morneson softly, 'Good morning stranger. '
[RP]: Morneson spins around, drawing her short sword, then relaxes. 'Morning.' She sheathes it.
[RP]: Morneson eyes the Drasnian critically. 'Better?'
[RP]: (Czrel): The young traveller begins to feel puzzled.
[RP]: (Czrel): 'Nearly. '
[RP]: Morneson frowns slightly. 'Do you remember what happened?'
[RP]: Czrel shakes his head slightly. He does not remember the stranger in front of him.
[RP]: Morneson pours out two glasses of water, and gives one to the Drasnian. 'You came into the tavern, collapsed on my table and bled.'
[RP]: Czrel raises an eyebrow. 'Did.. did I? '
[RP]: Morneson sips from her glass. 'Yes. And you'll need to drink. To replenish the water you lost through bleeding.'
[RP]: (Czrel): The glass falls to the floor, spilling water all over. 'How did I get this bandage? ' Czrel muttered.
[RP]: Morneson smiles fleetingly. 'I bandaged up your wounds. Sit down. I'll get you another glass of water... and some food.'
[RP]: Czrel questions the stranger, 'Who are you? How am I to be sure you not one of those flithy spies? '
[RP]: Morneson blinks. 'Me? A spy? Belar whoever attacked you must have knocked your wits out of you...'
[RP]: Czrel shakes his head. He only remembers a dagger coming straight at him. Then he blacked out.
[RP]: Morneson gives the matter some consideration. 'Stay here a little.' She leaves the room and walks down the stairs.
[RP]: Czrel buries his face in his hands and tries his best to remember. He was still in pain and he does not recall much.
[RP]: (Czrel): A dagger. A hooded man.
[RP]: (Czrel): Yes.. A hooded man. A..
[RP]: (Czrel): A Nadrak!
[RP]: Morneson returns to the room with a tray. Chere peers in worriedly over her shoulder.
[RP]: (Czrel): Exhausted and worn down from pain, the young man falls back to his bed.
[RP]: (Morneson): Chere gives a small scream. Morneson glares at her, while putting down the tray.
[RP]: Morneson shakes the Drasnian. 'Wake up! You need some food in your stomach.'
[RP]: Morneson picks up the bowl of stew and sits down on the bed, next to the Drasnian. 'Do you need me to feed you?'
[RP]: (Czrel): He sits up and shakes his head. 'I have no appetite. '
[RP]: (Czrel): Then he looks out of the window and mutters under his breath, 'Nadrak.. '
[RP]: Morneson looks at the Drasnian sternly. 'Young man, you are eating this or I'm going to pour it down your throat... whether you...'
[RP]: Morneson says puzzledly 'Nadrak?'
[RP]: Czrel clenches his fist. He turns back to the woman.
[RP]: (Czrel): 'Yes. A Nadrak did this to me. '
[RP]: Morneson stiffens slightly. 'I see.'
[RP]: (Czrel): 'I shouldn't had let him get away. '
[RP]: Morneson eyes the Drasnian. 'Well. All I can say is at this rate you won't even be able to get out of the inn if you don't eat something. You did lose a lot of blood.'
[RP]: Morneson stirs the stew with the spoon thoughtfully. 'But if you need help I'll give it to you.'
[RP]: (Czrel): 'But.. I have to stop him.. ' There was despair in his voice. Perhaps he had his reasons.
[RP]: (Czrel): After a short pause, his empty stomach growls furiously.
[RP]: Morneson mutters something under her breath about stubborness.
[RP]: Czrel chuckles weakly. 'Yes, perhaps I will need food. '
[RP]: Morneson hands Czrel the bowl.
[RP]: (Czrel): The young man begins to stir the stew and feed himself. He is feeble now but at least he could hold a spoon.
[RP]: Morneson watches him silently. She hears the soft creak of the floorboards as Chere leaves, to return to work.
[RP]: (Czrel): After a couple of spoonfuls, he turns to Morneson and gives her a smile.
[RP]: (Czrel): 'Did she make this? It tastes.. '
[RP]: Czrel peers around himself intently.
[RP]: (Czrel): 'It tastes awful. '
[RP]: (Czrel): Taking just another mouthful, he rejects the rest and lays the bowl onto a small wooden table by his bed.
[RP]: Morneson smiles faintly. 'I have no idea.'
[RP]: (Czrel): Struggling, Czrel tries to clamber to his feet.
[RP]: Morneson grips the Drasnian to steady him.
[RP]: (Czrel): 'Thanks.. '
[RP]: (Czrel): The Drasnian, now on his feet, tries to find his equipment.
[RP]: (Czrel): 'Where is my weapon? '
[RP]: Czrel looks at his torn and bloodied tunic by the bed and frowned.
[RP]: (Czrel): 'I need a new tunic too. '
[RP]: Morneson shrugs. 'I have no idea.'
[RP]: Morneson picks up her cloak from the chair and offers it to Czrel. 'You can borrow my cloak... And my knife.'
[RP]: (Czrel): The young Drasnian took the cloak from the woman's hands.
[RP]: Morneson detaches her knife and its sheath from her belt. 'Here.'
[RP]: Czrel smiles and takes the knife. 'Thank you very much.. stranger. '
[RP]: Morneson nods. 'Call me Morneson.'
[RP]: (Czrel): The Drasnian's brows furrowed. 'Morneson.. Have I heard of this name before? '
[RP]: Morneson gives the Drasnian an odd look. 'I wouldn't know.'
[RP]: Czrel begins to recall. But flashing scenes in his mind felt like needles pricking his head.
[RP]: (Czrel): Then he sighs, knowing that forcing himself to remember would not do him any good.
[RP]: (Czrel): He relaxes himself and once again thank the stranger.
[RP]: Czrel says 'I'm Czrel.'
[RP]: Morneson tips her head sideways. 'An odd Drasnian name.'
[RP]: Morneson nods again. 'So what are you planning to do?'
[RP]: Czrel slowly sits on the bed. 'I will try to track down that Nadrak, ' he says softly. 'The Nadrak and his men. '
[RP]: Morneson raises an eyebrow. 'You think you can even manage a brisk walk?'
[RP]: (Czrel): The Drasnian clenches his fist. He is furious, yet helpless.
[RP]: (Czrel): His voice trembled with rage. 'I will do my best. '
[RP]: Morneson watches the young man for some time. 'I'll come with you.'
[RP]: Czrel appeared a little shocked by the woman's words. 'I couldn't let you be involved in this.. tussle. '
[RP]: Morneson shrugs. 'I've been in many... "tussles" before. One more won't make a difference.'
[RP]: Czrel begins to eye the woman carefully. 'But you don't appear that old to me.. And almost inexperienced if I had not known you. '
[RP]: Morneson chuckles softly. 'I've fought algroths before...'
[RP]: (Czrel): The young man shakes his head in disbelief.
[RP]: (Czrel): Then his eyes brightened. 'So I guess a bunch of Thulls and their Nadrak boss wouldn't mean much to you right?'
[RP]: Morneson smiles slightly. 'Of course not.'
[RP]: Czrel chuckles weakly. He lowers his head slightly and concedes. 'So I guess it'll only be good that you come along with me. '
[RP]: Morneson nods.
[RP]: (Czrel): 'Alright then, ' the Drasnian said as he stood up. 'I'm glad I've found for myself a travel mate. '
[RP]: Morneson smiles faintly. 'You lead the way. I wouldn't recognise the men.'

[RP]: (Czrel): The afternoon sun was blazing down upon the pair as they strode out of Sendar.
[RP]: Morneson squints up at the sun, and draws the hood of her new cloak over her head.
[RP]: (Czrel): At the moment before his female companion covers her head, Czrel catches a glimpse of a scar along her neck.
[RP]: (Czrel): 'How did you get that.. scar?'
[RP]: Morneson stares ahead at the road, thinking about her response. Eventually, she says 'When I was travelling with my parents.'
[RP]: Czrel waits patiently for her to continue her story.
[RP]: Morneson presses her lips into a tight line. 'We were travelling through Arendia to reach the Arendish Fair. My father was a trader, in various materials for clothing. On the way there... we were attacked by algroths.'
[RP]: (Czrel): 'So that was how you killed the algroths?'
[RP]: (Morneson): Her eyes flash in anger as she continues to describe the scene. 'No. I was still a child then. We had no chance, even with the patrol of Tolnedran legionnaires. My parents died almost immediately. I escaped, but not before one of them scratched me with its claws.' She looks out at the fields of wheat.
[RP]: Czrel puts his hand firmly on the woman's shoulder, comforting her.
[RP]: (Czrel): 'It's alright. It's over now,' Czrel said while peering around their surroundings. 'Something is amiss.'
[RP]: (Czrel): The dust on their path swirled about in a gust of wind.
[RP]: Morneson has already drawn her bow and nocked an arrow. She frowns slightly, listening intently.
[RP]: Czrel turns around to face his back. Then he spots a hooded figure dash across the dusty path into the meadows.
[RP]: Morneson releases the arrow. It misses the target. She wastes no time cursing, drawing another and aiming.
[RP]: (Czrel): 'Stop right there!' Czrel shouts after the figure. Then he sprints forward and gives chase.
[RP]: Morneson urges her horse forwards, guiding it with her knees. 'That fool of a boy.'
[RP]: (Czrel): Knowing that on horseback, Czrel will catch up with the hooded figure in no time.
[RP]: Morneson glances around, and notices another figure closely following Czrel. She stops the horse, and slips off the saddle.
[RP]: Morneson lands on the ground nimbly, and still keeping the arrow nocked, follows the figure while keeping close to the ground.
[RP]: (Czrel): 'Bull's eye! ' Czrel shouts victoriously as the fletching dagger hits the first stalker in the back.
[RP]: Morneson discards her bow, drawing her short sword, and closes in silently on the fallen figure.
[RP]: (Czrel): At the same time, Czrel checks on his victim.
[RP]: Morneson uses her boot to turn the man over, and flicks the hood with her blade. A Nadrak stared up at her in pain.
[RP]: (Morneson): 'Help...' he whispers. Morneson crouches down, while keeping a safe distance between herself and the wounded man.
[RP]: Morneson glances up at Czrel. 'This one's alive.' she calls out.
[RP]: Czrel squats down beside his victim. 'Mine's dead,' he returns Morneson's call. Then he retrieves his gleaming dagger from the dead man.
[RP]: Morneson quickly searches the man, pulling out two daggers and a stiletto. 'It... it hurts.' the Nadrak whines. 'Don't talk.' Morneson snaps, claiming one of the daggers to be her own and inspecting the other.
[RP]: Czrel walks over to the Sendarian. His grip on his weapon tightens as he nears the fallen Nadrak.
[RP]: Morneson nods at Czrel. 'He's clean.' She stands up, briefly scanning the meadow, then satisfied, nods again.
[RP]: Czrel bends over the wounded man. 'Where are you from? What's your purpose trailing us?' Czrel questions him.
[RP]: (Morneson): She decides that Czrel can take care of the questioning, and walks back to retrieve her bow and the horses.
[RP]: (Czrel): The Nadrak convulses on the grass. 'Answer me.' Czrel taps his feet and begins to become impatient.
[RP]: Morneson picks her way almost daintily across the meadow, noting the occasional heap of cow dung. She joins Czrel. 'Well?'
[RP]: Czrel points at the fallen Nadrak. He looks at Morneson and shakes his head.
[RP]: (Czrel): 'He refuses to speak.'
[RP]: Morneson smiles thinly and she crouches down next to the Nadrak. 'He's as good as dead.' She grips the arrow shaft and tugs lightly.
[RP]: (Czrel): The Nadrak suddenly chokes and vomits blood. Moments later, he becomes motionless.
[RP]: Morneson yanks the arrow out of the corpse with some difficulty, then cleans it in the dead man's clothing.
[RP]: (Czrel): The young Drasnian looks disappointed. He could have gotten the Nadrak to speak.
[RP]: Morneson slips the arrow into the quiver. 'What now?'
[RP]: (Czrel): 'Spies. No doubt. Following me,' said Czrel as he scans the surroundings.
[RP]: Morneson looks around the meadow again. 'Someone probably uses this as grazing ground... so we should get the corpses out of sight at the very least.
[RP]: Czrel nods in agreement. He rushes back to the first body and heaves it onto his shoulders.
[RP]: (Morneson): A faint breeze blows the scent of blood to the horses, who shy away. Morneson tightens her grips on the reins, and leads them firmly to a fence, where she tethers them.
[RP]: Morneson bends down and grabs the other corpse under the armpits and looks around for a suitable hiding place. 'Ideas?'
[RP]: (Czrel): 'We bury them. At least that's humane enough,' Czrel replies.
[RP]: Morneson glances back at the horses. 'I certainly don't carry a shovel around.'
[RP]: Czrel chuckles lightly. Then he points to a stack of hay in a distance.
[RP]: (Czrel): 'If we cant dig, then hay will do.'
[RP]: Morneson eyes the haystack critically. 'It'll do.'
[RP]: (Czrel): The pair moved quickly. Soon enough, the two bodies were buried and hidden away from sight.
[RP]: Morneson glares at the horses when one rears, smelling the blood on her hands.
[RP]: (Czrel): 'Apparently, those two aren't the Nadraks I am looking for,' says Czrel. 'We should move on.'
[RP]: Morneson nods, and climbs into the saddle. She slips the bow into its customary place.
[RP]: (Czrel): Mounting his horse, Czrel makes a decision. 'Maybe we should head to Sthiss Tor.'
[RP]: Morneson nods, drawing her cloak tighter around herself.

[RP]: (Czrel): But along their way, they have to first pass Tol Honeth.
[RP]: (Morneson): 'Halt, strangers!' shouts an imperious voice.
[RP]: Morneson reins in her horse, and looks at the legionnaire coolly. 'Yes?'
[RP]: (Morneson): 'Unhood yourself! And who's your companion?' the legionnaire snaps. Other men appear behind him.
[RP]: Czrel pulls the reins on his horse. He points innocently to himself.
[RP]: Morneson gives a one shouldered shrug, and pushes back her hood. 'He's my companion,' she says softly.
[RP]: (Morneson): 'He's your companion? A Drasnian spy?' Morneson's eyes narrow slightly.
[RP]: (Czrel): The young Drasnian smiles meekly.
[RP]: Morneson says even more quietly, 'He's not a spy.'
[RP]: Czrel nudges the Sendarian. He could sense trouble brewing.
[RP]: Morneson gives Czrel a sideway glance. 'Yes?'
[RP]: (Czrel): 'Yes I am not a spy,' the Drasnian announces to the legionnaires.
[RP]: (Morneson): The legionnaire attempts to look down on the Drasnian, despite the fact that he is on foot. 'And how do we know that?' he sneers.
[RP]: Czrel tries to defend himself. 'You see sirs, I am but a..' he hesitates.
[RP]: (Czrel): 'A.. merchant. Ah yes a merchant.'
[RP]: (Morneson): The legionnaire scowls at Czrel. 'Then we want to search your baggage. And examine your... goods.'
[RP]: Morneson gives the legionnaire a chilly look. 'Since when did legionnaires stop visitors to Tol Honeth?'
[RP]: (Czrel): The Drasnian's heart is pounding. He had nothing but scavenged weaponary in his bags.
[RP]: (Czrel): 'I sell.. Sell weapons,' Czrel stammers as one of the soldiers check his baggage.
[RP]: (Morneson): The man holds up the daggers triumphantly. 'Weapons? You must be in league with them! So that's where they get their weapons! Seize them!'
[RP]: (Czrel): 'Them?' Czrel wondered. Then he called out to the soldiers. 'Wait I can explain!'
[RP]: (Czrel): But it is too late. The legionnaires already have their spears aiming at the pair.
[RP]: (Morneson): The bow suddenly materialises in Morneson's hands, and she swiftly shoots the speaker in the head. She has another arrow drawn before the man even collapses.
[RP]: Morneson watches them with no expression on her face. 'Who's next?'
[RP]: (Czrel): The remaining legionnaires are shocked at the sheer speed of the ranger. But nevertheless, they charge.
[RP]: Morneson quickly looses the arrow, which punches through the chestplate and into another man's heart. He too falls.
[RP]: Czrel quickly stabs the soldier who checks on him and dashes to aid the mounted Sendarian.
[RP]: Morneson jams the bow into its slot, while drawing her sword with her other hand.
[RP]: (Czrel): A soldier tries to jab the ranger out of her horse.
[RP]: Morneson parries a thrust from a spear, and ducks low to avoid the blow from another.
[RP]: Morneson takes the opportunity to slash one man's throat.
[RP]: Morneson ignores the spray of blood as she wheels the horse around, forcing the legionnaires back to avoid flailing hooves, and rides down one of them.
[RP]: (Czrel): Amidst the confusion, Czrel lands several hits on unsuspecting soldiers.
[RP]: (Czrel): They fall with their blood painting the dusty path.
[RP]: Morneson frowns in concentration as she parries and ducks the blows, and manages to seize a spear by its haft. She yanks it out of the man's hand, towards her, and he stumbles onto her blade.
[RP]: (Morneson): However, that cost her, as another spear slides into her thigh before she can back the horse away. She pales, but hacks the rest of the protruding shaft off and drives her spear into a legionnaire's throat.
[RP]: Morneson frees her sword from the soldier's throat.
[RP]: Morneson looks around at the bloody corpses, trying to ignore the intense pain in her thigh. 'Arrogant Tolnedran,' she mutters.
[RP]: Czrel continues to dart around while the soldiers try to spear him.
[RP]: (Morneson): The remaining legionnaire stands with his legs slightly apart, his spear levelled at Morneson.
[RP]: (Czrel): 'Some help here Morneson?' The Drasnian cries desperately as the soldiers surround him.
[RP]: Morneson starts, and tries to ride past the man, but he jabs at her with his long spear, forcing her back.
[RP]: (Morneson): The man tries to stab her, but misses and hits the horse. It rears, throwing the ranger from her saddle, and she hits the ground rolling.
[RP]: (Czrel): The legionnaires around Czrel closes in on him.
[RP]: Morneson attacks the man before he can pull his weapon from the wildly bucking animal, and runs to Czrel.
[RP]: Morneson takes the group of men by surprise from behind, and kills two before the rest can assess the new threat.
[RP]: Czrel then quickly stabs the other two on their backs as they turn to face Morneson.
[RP]: (Czrel): As they fall dead on the ground, Czrel sheathed his dagger.
[RP]: Morneson slowly eases herself onto the ground, and takes the corner of one man's cloak and wipes her blade clean.
[RP]: Morneson sheathes her sword and examines the embedded spear gravely. 'Careless...'
[RP]: (Czrel): 'Are you alright?' Czrel asks the Sendarian.
[RP]: Morneson tugs on it lightly and winces. 'I will be.'
[RP]: Morneson grits her teeth. 'You'll have to pull it out.'
[RP]: Czrel smiles at the brave ranger. This is only his second time witnessing the courage of a woman.
[RP]: (Czrel): Then Czrel gently grips the spear on the woman's thigh.
[RP]: Morneson tenses, breathing shallowly.
[RP]: (Czrel): As he slowly pulls it out bit by bit, red hot blood rush out of the wound.
[RP]: Morneson screams, and blacks out.
[RP]: (Czrel): Realizing the need to stop the bleeding, he quickly draws out the spear while the Sendarian sleeps.
[RP]: Czrel then turns to a fallen legionnaire and tears of a part of his cloak.
[RP]: (Morneson): The rain-laden clouds finally give up their load, and large droplets of water start falling from the sky.
[RP]: (Czrel): He uses the wet clothe and applies pressure on the crimson wound.
[RP]: (Czrel): 'Oh Belar,' Czrel prays. 'Please let her be fine.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Blood continues to gush out of the wound, staining the cloth red, but the flow begins to slow.
[RP]: (Czrel): Soon enough the entire cloth becomes soaked with the Sendarian's blood.
[RP]: (Czrel): But luckily, the bleeding stops.
[RP]: (Morneson): The rain intensifies, drenching both the Drasnian and the unconscious Sendarian.
[RP]: (Czrel): Then Czrel summons his strength and heaves the woman up from the ground.
[RP]: (Czrel): Thoughts run wild inside the Drasnian's mind.
[RP]: (Czrel): Now that they have killed so many soldiers, the Tolnedrans would never let them pass the city alive.
[RP]: (Czrel): But the life of the ranger is now in his hands.
[RP]: (Czrel): Having no choice, he trudges towards Tol Honeth, praying that a kind soul will help them out there.
[RP]: (Czrel): The rain fell mercilessly on the pair. The Drasnian sneezed as the cold wind blew upon him.
[RP]: (Czrel): His vision was blurred by the droplets of rain falling onto his eyes.
[RP]: (Czrel): But he sees hope ahead. The gates of Tol Honeth, obscured by the heavy downpour, is finally within sight.
[RP]: (Czrel): Czrel uses the rest of his dwindling strength and pushes on towards the huge metal gates.
[RP]: (Czrel): At long last, he arrives. He gently lays the unconscious woman on the ground and shouts for help.
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus, while walking past the gates, hears someone shout. He peers through the rain and sees a figure standing in the rain.
[RP]: (Czrel): 'Anyone there? Open the gates please! I have wounded here!'
[RP]: (Morneson): Curiousity piqued, Harodus nods at one of the legionnaires. 'Open the gate.' The legionnaire salutes, unlocking and opening the gate.
[RP]: (Morneson): With his guard and servant trailing behind, he strolls through the gate, and stops in surprise. 'What's this?'
[RP]: (Czrel): Seeing the gate slowly open up for him, he heaves a sigh of relief. Then he looks up at the Tolnedran.
[RP]: Czrel says 'Sir, my friend is wounded. Could you help us, please?'
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus nods. 'Pick up the lady and carry her to the carriage.'
[RP]: (Czrel): 'Thank you so much sir,' Czrel gratefully thanked the Tolnedran.
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus follows, glad that something new was happening. The drug trade was beginning to bore him. 'Oh, don't think about it.' he laughs.
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus snaps his fingers. The servant runs ahead and opens the carriage door.
[RP]: Czrel places the woman carefully in the warm compartment.
[RP]: (Czrel): Then he follows the Tolnedran up the horse carriage.
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus taps the knob of his walking stick thoughtfully, while his servant closes the shutters of the carriage. 'Have a seat, have a seat.' he says when he notices the Drasnian is still standing hunched over.
[RP]: (Morneson): The servant closes the doors, and the carriage starts moving. 'So, young man, what happened to the lady?'
[RP]: (Czrel): The Drasnian takes his seat. He ponders over the question carefully.
[RP]: Czrel begins to sob. 'Unfortunate, but my aunt and I met up with.. Bandits.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus pretends to be alarmed. 'Bandits?' He tsks. 'I'll need to talk to the guild. I always said they weren't spending enough on security.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus watches the man carefully, and snaps his fingers again. 'Wine. And the young man would like...?'
[RP]: (Czrel): Czrel continues to fake his sobbings. He shakes his head at the man's offer.
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus looks sympathetic, and reaches over and pats the man on his knee. 'There, there.'
[RP]: (Morneson): The servant pours out a glass of red wine, then offers it to Harodus. He takes the glass and sips from it. 'Perfect...' He smacks his lips.'
[RP]: (Czrel): 'My aunt needs water, ' Czrel requests as he observes the man drinking his wine. 'And I need water too.'
[RP]: (Morneson): The servant pulls out a ceramic jug and fills two glasses. He holds them out meekly.
[RP]: (Czrel): 'Thank you,' Czrel says as he takes a glass from the servant's tray. He gulps the water down immediately.
[RP]: (Czrel): 'You wouldn't mind giving some to my.. Aunt,' he continues while turning back and looking at the ranger.
[RP]: (Morneson): 'Don't mind at all...' he says distantly, as he notes the deep wound in the woman's thigh.
[RP]: Czrel turns his attention back to the Tolnedran. 'I am Lazadris sir,' the Drasnian introduced himself. 'And you are?'
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus shakes his head, focussing his attention on the Drasnian again. 'How impolite of me. I'm Molkan.'
[RP]: Czrel reaches out his blood stained palm. 'It is my luck meeting you or my aunt Marcie would have perished.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus recoils from the bloody hand, then gingerly shakes it. 'I'm glad to be of so much help.' he says, wiping his hand on the handkerchief his servant produces.
[RP]: (Morneson): The carriage slows then stops.
[RP]: Czrel follows Molkan out of the carriage after the servant alights and opens the door.
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus ignores the rain pouring on him as he moves into the courtyard. His butler appears at the door, a towel draped over his arm.
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus takes the towel and dries his face. Water drips from his robe and pools around his feet. The butler vanishes behind a door, and emerges with two more towels.
[RP]: (Czrel): The Drasnian eyes the beautiful pillars as he walks past them. 'A towel for me?' Czrel asks the butler.
[RP]: (Morneson): The butler inclines his head, holding out a towel.
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus turns to the guard. 'Take her to the guest quarters.'
[RP]: Czrel stops Molkan and his guard.
[RP]: (Morneson): The guard gives Czrel a puzzled look.
[RP]: (Czrel): 'Please take care of my aunt,' he tells the guard.
[RP]: (Morneson): The guard hesitates, then nods. He leaves the foyer. 'Get the medicine woman.' Harodus snaps his fingers at the butler, who bows and nods at the servant.
[RP]: (Morneson): The servant scurries out into the rain.
[RP]: Czrel feels strange about the silence around Molkan's residence but he keeps it to himself.
[RP]: (Morneson): Having dried himself well enough, he tosses the towel at the butler, and walks to the sitting room. 'Make yourself at home.'
[RP]: (Czrel): The Drasnian wipes himself with his towel, hands it back to the butler and follows Molkan into the room.
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus smiles broadly as young girl enters the room. She curtseys nervously, her eyes darting to the Drasnian. 'Oh there you are, Crysila.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Crysila bobs a curtsey. 'Meet Lazadris. He was travelling with his aunt Marcie when they got attacked by bandits.' Harodus shakes his head. 'What did I say about the guild?'
[RP]: Czrel remains expressionless as the girl smiles at him. He is still worried about Morneson.
[RP]: (Morneson): The girl answers quietly, 'The guild doesn't spend enough on it.' Harodus beams proudly at her.
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus patted her on her head in an affectionate manner. 'That's my girl.'
[RP]: (Morneson): The butler appears behind Harodus, ready to receive orders again. 'Wine. What do you want? Crysila? Lazadris?'
[RP]: (Morneson): Crysila hesitates, then says 'Water please.'
[RP]: Czrel slowly regains his right state of mind. He ponders over the Tolnedran's question and replies, 'Water will do.'
[RP]: (Morneson): The butler bows and leaves the room silently.
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus ponders, then snaps his fingers. 'Musicians.'
[RP]: (Morneson): A few moments later another girl slips in through a small doorway in the corner, clutching a flute to her breast.
[RP]: (Morneson): She lifts it to her lips and starts playing it softly.
[RP]: (Morneson): The music is sad, with a strange lilt to it.
[RP]: (Morneson): The butler emerges from the same small doorway, with a silver tray and three glasses balanced carefully on it.
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus picks up his glass of wine without even glancing at his butler, and sips it. 'Nice...'
[RP]: Czrel reaches out to hold his glass as the butler hands it to him. Then he turns to the Tolnedran.
[RP]: (Czrel): 'So what do you do here sir?'
[RP]: (Morneson): Crysila accepts the glass and sits down unobtrusively on a couch.
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus gives Czrel an odd look. 'Live here, of course.'
[RP]: (Czrel): The young Drasnian begins a light laughter. 'No sir, I meant what do you do for a living?'
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus smiles. 'Ah that. I deal in drugs... herbs for healing, so on and so forth.'
[RP]: Czrel smiles in return. 'So I guess you could really help taking care of my aunt Marcie.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Crysila watches Czrel intently.
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus laughs. 'Of course.'
[RP]: Czrel says 'Then I must thank you.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus waves his hand dismissively. 'Don't bother.'
[RP]: (Czrel): The Drasnian nods at Harodus with gratitude. Then he glances at Crysila. Her eyes are keep still on Czrel.
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus turns his attention on the musician, listening to the music appreciatively. He does not notice the two young people exchanging looks.
[RP]: (Morneson): Crysila starts a little when Czrel meets her gaze, and her eyes flicker to Harodus then back.
[RP]: Czrel begins to feel strange. The girl seems to see through his lies. His lies that he is not the Lazadris he claims to be.
[RP]: (Morneson): Crysila mouths 'I'll talk to you later' at Czrel. The music rises to a crescendo, then trails off. Crysila quickly looks down at her glass again.
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus claps. The musician nervously begins another song.
[RP]: (Morneson): He turns to Czrel. 'The medicine woman should be here. Want to visit your aunt?'
[RP]: (Czrel): Not able to appreciate both wine and music, the Drasnian stands up quickly.
[RP]: (Czrel): 'Yes.. please.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus stands up, considers something, then says 'You come too, Crysila. Maybe you'll learn something new.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus quietly opens the door of one room, and enters the dim interior. Inside, an old woman stands up slowly and bows.
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus peers over his shoulder.
[RP]: Czrel smiles at the Tolnedran. 'Is she in there?'
[RP]: (Morneson): The old woman says 'Come in, come in.'
[RP]: (Morneson): 'How's she?' 'Lost lots of blood. Needs much rest.' the woman says curtly, and counts off her fingers. 'Probably four days before she can sort of walk.'
[RP]: Czrel frowns. Morneson ends up more badly hurt than he thought.
[RP]: (Morneson): The woman continues. 'Abrasions, contusions... No broken bones fortunately.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus nods. 'I'll let you and Marcie talk. Crysila you can stay if you want, but don't disturb them.' He turns sharply on his heel and leaves.
[RP]: Czrel watches the door close behind him. As he turns back to the unconscious Sendarian, he notices Crysila eyeing him carefully again.
[RP]: (Morneson): Crysila looks at the door warily, then says quietly 'He'll tire of you soon... then you'll be kicked out.'
[RP]: (Morneson): The Nyissan girl frowns slightly, and begins to pace the room. Her dress swishes as she walks. 'Who're you anyway?'
[RP]: (Czrel): 'I'm only a Drasnian merchant..'
[RP]: (Morneson): 'And all Drasnian merchants are spies...' the healer says, still seated on her stool. 'How're you dearie?' she asks Crysila.
[RP]: (Morneson): 'Fine...' 'Your father's worried.' 'I know.'
[RP]: (Morneson): 'So laddie, answer the lady. Who're you?'
[RP]: Czrel begins to battle a dilemma in his head.
[RP]: (Czrel): Finally the Drasnian decides to spill the beans.
[RP]: Czrel says 'My real name is Czrel. And the Sendarian is no aunt of mine. Neither is she Marcie.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Crysila chuckles. 'I think my father's pretty aware of that, as am I.'
[RP]: Czrel bows his head in disappointment. He should had known that barely anything escapes the shrewd Tolnedran eye.
[RP]: (Morneson): Crysila nods. 'Well, as I've said, my father does things... out of boredom. I think as soon as your... 'aunt' gets back onto her feet he'll expel you from his house.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Crysila continues her relentless pacing. 'Where are you headed to?'
[RP]: (Czrel): The girl's footsteps ring in Czrel's head like a drum roll as he announces his destination.
[RP]: Czrel says 'We're travelling to Sthiss Tor.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Crysila stops in her tracks. 'Sthiss Tor?'
[RP]: Czrel says 'Yes, the Nyissan city Sthiss Tor. Anything wrong?'
[RP]: (Morneson): Crysila stares down at the ground. 'Can I go with you?'
[RP]: (Czrel): The Drasnian's eyes widens once more. 'Will your father allow you to?' He then looks sheepishly at the silent healer.
[RP]: (Morneson): The healer grins at Czrel. 'Don't you worry. I know all about her.' 'She does. And no, Harodus isn't my true father.'
[RP]: Czrel lets out a slight gasp although he is not entirely surprised.
[RP]: (Morneson): Crysila walks to the window, where she twitches aside the curtains, then lets them drop. 'I'm just what Harodus uses to get his way with my father. A hostage, if you will.'
[RP]: (Czrel): The Drasnian frowns. 'A hostage? Is there anywhere I can help?' Czrel asks in concern.
[RP]: (Morneson): 'I just want to get out of here. Can you help me?'
[RP]: Czrel bows before the little girl. 'I am more than willing to help my lady,' he smiles.
[RP]: (Morneson): Crysila nods seriously, and looks at the healer questionningly. 'Tomorrow, dear. But she won't be able to walk.'
[RP]: Czrel ponders deeply over the situation. He will have to devise a plan to smuggle two ladies out of the mansion.
[RP]: (Morneson): Crysila watches Czrel with worried eyes. 'So what are we going to do?'
[RP]: (Czrel): An idea strikes the Drasnian like an arrow to his head.
[RP]: (Czrel): 'I've got a plan but I will need a stretcher and a couple of horses.'
[RP]: (Morneson): 'But that'll slow us down!'
[RP]: Czrel says 'Worry not. Haste is my forte.'
[RP]: (Morneson): The healer speaks up again. 'You'll need a diversion.' She smiles mysteriously. 'I'll provide one.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Crysila gave the healer a puzzled look. 'What sort?' 'Can't tell you, dear. Besides... it may need to change according to the... circumstance.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Everyone falls silent at the knock on the door. 'Come in.' the healer says. The butler entered.
[RP]: (Morneson): The butler bows. 'My Lord Harodus wishes to remind lady Crysila of her lessons.'
[RP]: (Czrel): 'Thank you for looking after my aunt Marcie.'
[RP]: (Morneson): The healer nods solemnly. 'I'll still be here for some time.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Crysila smooths down the front of her gown, composing her expression into that of a serene, calm lady.
[RP]: Czrel says 'Crysila, you had better go for your lessons before your father gets angry.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Crysila smiles grimly. 'I am. See you at dinner.' She turns the corner and starts down another corridor. The butler does not follow.
[RP]: Czrel makes use of the golden chance to ask the butler for the items he needs.
[RP]: (Czrel): 'Can you tell me where to buy wood?' Czrel asks the butler. 'I may need to craft a walking stick for my aunt.'
[RP]: (Morneson): The butler inclines his head. 'Head towards the market, then when you're there walk along the eastern road. Turn south at the second junction. His shop is down that alley.'
[RP]: (Morneson): The butler looks at Czrel. 'Anything else, sir?'
[RP]: (Czrel): The young man returns his gaze. 'Where is the city's stables?'
[RP]: (Morneson): 'In the market. Northwestern corner. Or alternatively there is one near the southern gate.'
[RP]: Czrel nods. He thanks the butler and heads out into the grand streets to look for the commodities.
[RP]: (Morneson): While the trio were plotting the escape, Harodus was concentrating on the politics within Tolnedra. Poisons were becoming popular in politics, and it was not unknown for a man to keel over and die after a glass of wine.
[RP]: (Morneson): The Horbites are his most frequent customers. He smiles slightly, making a note to start dropping hints for favours, and also milking Crysila's father for more poisons and drugs.
[RP]: (Morneson): He turns his attention to the scrolls in front of him. Crysila is late for her lesson. Where was she? Harodus frowns. Ah yes. With Lazadris and the medicine woman.
[RP]: (Morneson): He is glad that Crysila can socialise with other people, and what is even better is that he can control the durations of her talks with the guests. Of course, not too long, or else she may run away.
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus makes another mental note, this time to remove the guests as soon as possible. When the woman was healed, of course.
[RP]: (Morneson): Otherwise it would be impolite. A soft knock at the door. 'Come in, Crysila. It's time to start today's lesson.' Crysila comes in.
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus nodded. 'Write me an essay about them... I'll be right back.' He pushed back his chair and stood up. He left the room and shut the door firmly. He paused.
[RP]: (Morneson): He took out a small roll of parchment, and carefully stood it next to the door. If anyone opened the door from the inside it would topple over. He smiled thinly.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): As the Tolnedran drug dealer closes in on their baggage inside the mansion, Czrel spots the stable at the south of the grand city.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): He approaches the stable keepers and asks, 'Are there horses for sale?'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): A Tolnedran turns around and scrutinises him.
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus stepped into the room, and looked at the saddlebags with a faint smile playing on his lips. 'Let's see what we have...' He opened one pack. It was half-full with food and skins of... He opened one. Water.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Then he scowls at Czrel, 'Why yes, we have horses for sale.. Drasnian.'
[RP]: Merchant Czrel smiles.
[RP]: (Morneson): He sets the pack aside, and methodically goes through the packs. He pulls out a green cloak, almost identical to the one the woman had worn, except for the small 'A' stitched on it. He folds the cloak and slips it into its original place thoughtfully.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'Good. Might there be two horses that I can pick from these?'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The stable keeper replies, 'If you come this way sir, we have some fine ones at the back..'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Suddenly, the young Drasnian's senses tell him something fishy is going on.
[RP]: (Morneson): Soon, he is done. He stares at the two open packs in front of him. They are full of daggers and short swords.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Nevertheless, Czrel follows the Tolnedran to the dark back alley of the stables.
[RP]: (Morneson): 'Well, well, well. So this is who he is hm? Weapons dealer.' He picked up one of the daggers, and examined it minutely. It was plain and unadorned, not particularly good quality but servicable.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): As the Tolnedran slips into the darkness of the small alley, he mutters, 'Come on, quickly.'
[RP]: Merchant Czrel hastens his pace to suit that of the stable keepers. True enough, the alley leads to another stable.
[RP]: (Morneson): He tucks the blade back into the saddlebag, and closes both bags. 'Illegal? Or were they really attacked by bandits?' he mutters to himself as he walks back to rejoin Crysila.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): But the stable is deserted and holds not a single horse. Before Czrel begins to question the keeper, the latter flees back into the dark alley screaming, 'Get him now! Get him now!'
[RP]: (Morneson): He notes the scroll, which had toppled. He scoops it up with a grim smile and enters. 'Done?' 'No, Father.' she replies, scribbling furiously. 'Ah.' He sits down.
[RP]: (Morneson): A heartbeat later, the door opens, and the butler, his eyes slightly wild, says 'Sir. There has been an attack on a patrol. They believe a Drasnian and another person wearing green attacked them. The legionnaires are closing in on the Drasnian as we speak.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'A trap!' The Drasnian mutters under his breath as a group of legionnaires appears and blocks the exit.
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus stands up quickly. Everything is falling into place. He laughs delightedly. 'Saddle my horse now.' The butler bows and hurries away. 'Ah... some excitement at long last.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'No where to run now dagger salesman,' a soldier says to him. 'Surrender now or be executed.'
[RP]: (Morneson): I knew something would happen...' He gives Crysila a light peck on the cheek. 'I'll talk to you later.' He leaves, striding down the hallway, snatching the rapier from a guard. 'You know what to do.' The guards nod.
[RP]: Merchant Czrel smirks. 'Never,' Czrel defiantly replies.
[RP]: (Morneson): He leaves the house and swings himself onto the horse the butler is holding. 'Where?' 'Stable sir. The stable.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus wheels his horse around and rides towards the direction, escorted by four of his guards.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The soldier grit his teeth tightly together. The legionnaires know that the pair are formidable opponents. Maybe they can capture the Drasnian while he is alone.
[RP]: (Morneson): People jump out of the way, mothers pulling children back, men cursing as they leapt back.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'You shall deserve death without trial!' Scorns the legionnaire. 'For your crime of illegally selling weaponary to the Angaraks and killing Tolnedran soldiers.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus grins as he slips off the saddle, and saunters into the stables. The horse trader stares at him. 'Harodus? What're you doing here?'
[RP]: (Morneson): 'Having fun,' Harodus says, suppressing the urge to grin. He steps into the alley and puts on a stern face. 'Hold it there! What's going on?'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The drug dealer comes just in time before Czrel kills the last of the legionnaires.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Fresh red blood paints over the white stone road.
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus' guards form a protective circle around him, their hands on their weapons.
[RP]: Merchant Czrel frowns at the sight of the guards. 'More?' He asks as he kicks the remaining legionnaire aside.
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus shrugs. 'I doubt it. They're just protecting me.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The last surviving soldier gives Czrel one last glare and scampers out of sight.
[RP]: (Morneson): Although alarmed at the speed with which the Drasnian had dispatched the legionnaires, Harodus keeps his face calm. 'So how do you think you're going to leave?'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'I will leave if you keep mum about this,' the Drasnian answers.
[RP]: (Morneson): 'Keep mum?' Harodus says puzzledly, even though he can guess its meaning.
[RP]: Merchant Czrel walks slowly towards Harodus. Even as the guards level their weapon at his neck, he continues.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'I don't know if you believe me but I have been wrongly accused by the legionnaires.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus smiles broadly. 'If you tell me your story I'll agree to let your... aunt go. Of course, we won't talk here.'
[RP]: Merchant Czrel presses down one of the guard's weapon to have a clearer view of the Tolnedran. Although he seems scheming, Czrel will not mind to relate his story to him in order to get away from the pestering legionnaires.
[RP]: (Morneson): The guards tense.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'Back to the mansion, Harodus?' Czrel questions the drug dealer.
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus shrugs. 'I don't see why not... although you'll have to make your own way back. I don't have my carriage.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The Drasnian then looks back at the corpses. 'Wouldn't you mind asking your guards to remove the stiffs?'
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus shrugs again. 'I don't see why not. Although I suggest you leave quickly before the rest of the legionnaires come.'
[RP]: Merchant Czrel nods. With that he slips quietly into the Tol Honeth alleys.
[RP]: (Morneson): At the same time, the legionnaires appear, spears bristling in front of shields. 'Where is he?' barks the captain. Harodus gives him a cool look. 'My lord.' he adds hastily.
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus lets the uncomfortable silence drag a little, before replying 'Gone.' 'What? But one of my men say you were chatting to him.' 'Oh, I was. I suggest you forget this little incident... because I'll deal with him. Personally.'
[RP]: (Morneson): The captain's eyes widen, and he grins. 'Thank you, my lord.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Before long, Czrel appears back at the mansion despite failing to get both horses and wood.
[RP]: (Morneson): He signals to his men, who march out. His guards sheathe their weapons. 'Not exactly what I expected... but it will do.' Harodus says to the air, and leaves the stables.
[RP]: (Morneson): The guards at Harodus' mansion draw their weapons at the sight of the Drasnian.
[RP]: Merchant Czrel sighs. He has seen enough violence ever since he came to Tol Honeth.
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus rides back towards his mansion, but not as fast as before. He needs time to think.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'Your lord will be back soon. Point your weapons if you like it that way,' mutters Czrel.
[RP]: (Morneson): The butler walks through the ranks of guards, and bows. 'I'm sure he will be, my lord.'
[RP]: Merchant Czrel stares at the butler. Now he must be wary of everyone. 'Can you let me in?'
[RP]: (Morneson): The butler smiles with his mouth. 'Of course, my lord. If you will come this way.' He bows again, gesturing towards the entrance.
[RP]: (Morneson): The butler shows the way to an empty guest room, which is far away from where the ranger was resting.
[RP]: Merchant Czrel settles on a comfortable sofa after the butler leaves him. 'Is Harodus really trustworthy enough?' Czrel questions himself.
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus dismounts, giving his reins to one of his servants. The butler bows. 'He is waiting for you, my lord.' 'Good.' Harodus strides towards the room.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Thoughts whirled inside the Drasnian's mind. As the door slowly opens, he regains his composure and puts on a calm look.
[RP]: (Morneson): 'Welcome back Lazadris.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus waves his guards away and shuts the door firmly behind him. He pulls up a chair and sits. 'So... what do you have to tell me?'
[RP]: Merchant Czrel smirks at the Tolnedran. 'Surely you can sense that my identity is fishy.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus laughs. 'I knew that the moment you said your... name.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'What about my name?'
[RP]: (Morneson): 'Sounds more Arend than Drasnian...'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'Perhaps. I will need you to swear to me that you will not squeal about the.. incident at the stables.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus grins. 'I don't and won't... "squeal". The legionnaires have their memories wiped too.'
[RP]: Merchant Czrel nods. 'Money does wonders.'
[RP]: (Morneson): 'Aye. It does. Enough of this chit chat. What's your real name?'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'Patience Tolnedran,' Czrel calmly says. Then he stretches himself to relax his tense muscles.
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus smiles faintly, folding his arms on his lap.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): After feeling comfortable enough to spill his own beans, he whispers to the Tolnedran.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'I'm no dagger salesman like the soldiers call me.'
[RP]: (Morneson): 'No... you're a dagger and shortsword trader.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The Drasnian chuckles. 'I don't sell anything for a living.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus grins. 'Perhaps. But whatever your tale is... you did attack those legionnaires outside the city.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'Perhaps. They thought I sold weapons to.. 'them'. I suppose they don't like the Angaraks even a little bit.'
[RP]: (Morneson): 'Angaraks. Oh yes, we don't. And by "them" you mean...?'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'Angaraks too I suppose. Thinking that I might be dealing with them, the soldiers assaulted me and my... friend.'
[RP]: (Morneson): 'Assaulted?' Harodus pretends to look outraged. 'Since when do Tolnedran legionnaires attack travellers? Harmless... well, innocent ones at least.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'We need to flee this city soon. I hope telling you my little tale would give me a good chance to. By tonight maybe?'
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus smiles thinly. 'Maybe. After you answer a few questions, perhaps.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Czrel smiles back at the man. 'Questions? Oh well then.'
[RP]: (Morneson): 'The obvious question. Who are you?'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The drug dealer's curiosity seems like an unquenchable thirst. Closing his eyes, Czrel replies softly. 'I am Czrel. I am not a merchant of any sorts.'
[RP]: (Morneson): 'And your friend?'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'She's Morneson. And we were on our way to Sthiss Tor to.. investigate something.'
[RP]: (Morneson): 'Something?'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'Some Angaraks are.. acting fishy. We have to track them down.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus frowns slightly. 'I see. And what does 'A' stand for?'
[RP]: Merchant Czrel becomes a little annoyed by the drug dealer's persistent and almost relentless questioning. But thinking that it will get Morneson and him out of here, he answers nonetheless.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'A for Adventurers. The name of the clan I come from.'
[RP]: (Morneson): 'I see. So both of you work for this... clan?'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'Only me. Not her.'
[RP]: (Morneson): 'Is that so? There's a cloak identical to the one she was wearing... and it has an 'A' on it.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The Drasnian's brows furrow. There is no way a non-Adventurer can have such a cloak.
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus smiles to himself. 'So why did the legionnaire attack you?'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'They checked my.. goods. And they jumped to the conclusion that I dealt with Angaraks.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus stares deep into Czrel's eyes, and decides the boy is telling the truth. 'Well, you probably know my real name anyway. Leave tonight if you want. I'll explain to the legionnaires.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'Great,' Czrel thought. 'Now for Crysila..'
[RP]: (Morneson): 'A litter will be prepared for you.'
[RP]: Merchant Czrel nods. With the Tolnedran drug dealer keeping his promise of a safe exit out of Tol Honeth, Czrel now plans for Crysila's escape.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'Thank you Harodus.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus stands up. 'Not a problem... I'll go explain your situation to the legionnaires.' With that he leaves the room.
[RP]: (Morneson): The butler knocks on the open door. 'My lord? Do you wish to visit lady Morneson?'
[RP]: Merchant Czrel gets up on his feet. Knowing that Morneson can be left with the trusty healer, he says, 'I need to talk to Crysila. Show me to her please.'
[RP]: (Morneson): The butler shakes his head. 'Sorry, my lord. She is still having classes. You will see her at dinner.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The Drasnian has to use this chance when Harodus is away from the mansion.
[RP]: Merchant Czrel says 'This is important. I must see her.'
[RP]: (Morneson): The butler shakes his head again. 'No visitors allowed, my lord.' he says more firmly.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Now the butler begins to get on Czrel's nerves. 'As persistent as master and servant,' he mutters under his breath.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'Very well then. Bring me to my friend.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The silence in the long white hall breaks when footsteps echo as Czrel follows the butler.
[RP]: (Morneson): The butler knocks on the door and opens it. He bows. 'She is in there with Vyradis.'
[RP]: Merchant Czrel grins at the butler and enters the room. He closes the door tightly behind him.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'Is she alright?' He asks the gentle healer.
[RP]: (Morneson): 'She'll be all right.' Vyradis looks at Czrel carefully. 'Something wrong?'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'Nothing escapes a Tolnedran's eye,' Czrel smiles. 'Where's Crysila studying at? I need to find her.'
[RP]: (Morneson): The healer scowls. 'You won't be able to find her. Harodus keeps a very very close eye on her. Not to mention at least six guards watch that room.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Time is running out for the Drasnian. He will find Crysila no matter what it takes before Harodus returns.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'Any other way around the guards?'
[RP]: (Morneson): The healer looks thoughtful, and draws out a small satchet. 'Throw this powder at the guards... they'll be... blinded in a way for a while. Be careful not to get it in your eyes.'
[RP]: (Morneson): She pauses. 'You also need to work fast... and clean up as much of the powder as possible afterwards. Harodus has a surprisingly broad knowledge of drugs... for a Tolnedran.'
[RP]: Merchant Czrel looks at the small packet of green powder and cautiously takes it from the Vyradis' hand.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'Hope it doesn't make a whole mess.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Vyradis waves him away. 'Work fast!'
[RP]: Merchant Czrel nods, opens the door and slips silently into the depths of the Tol Honeth mansion.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Much of the mansion still remains unknown to the Drasnian. Not knowing which way he should go, he hides himself under a stairwell. 'Following a passing guard may lead me there,' he thinks.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Soon enough, he hears a couple of guards marching down the stairs. They walk in an orderly fashion around a corner into another corridor.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The Drasnian, recalling Crysila taking that same corridor, decides to trail the two guards.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Surely enough, the two guards pass a six man sentry point along that corridor. Czrel stops following them and prepares to throw the packet Vyradis gave him at the guards.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Hiding around a corner, he tears open the packet, raises it and hurls it upon the guards.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): As the powder lands among the men, nothing happens.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Czrel gets up from his hiding spot and sneaks silently towards the guarded door.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The guards, under the effects of the powder, fail to see him approach, pick the door lock and enter the room.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Once inside, Czrel shuts the door softly.
[RP]: (Morneson): Crysila jumps. 'How'd you get in here?' she hisses.
[RP]: Merchant Czrel grins. 'Vyradis' tricks. Come on we have to leave if you want to go,' he whispers.
[RP]: (Morneson): 'Now?' Crysila stares at Czrel. 'Are you insane? In broad daylight?'
[RP]: Merchant Czrel calms the girl. 'Relax. Your.. Harodus is away at the moment and the guards outside are blinded.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'In a couple of hours, the sun will set and we can flee.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Crysila's eyes widen. 'That drug? That's expensive!'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The Drasnian sniffs at his fingers. 'And scented too,' he sarcastically adds.
[RP]: (Morneson): Crysila snatches Czrel's hand from his nose. 'Be careful! Now say what you want me to do... the drug won't last long.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'Firstly, I want you to be quiet. The guards are blind, not deaf my dear girl,' he whispers slightly.
[RP]: (Morneson): She looks haunted. 'The door's soundproof. I should know.'
[RP]: Merchant Czrel grins at the girl's naiveness. 'And I thought Harodus was a smart man.'
[RP]: (Morneson): She laughs. 'Oh yes, he's smart. Very smart.'
[RP]: (Morneson): 'Everytime I used to try to escape he'd take me in here... and cane me.'
[RP]: (Morneson): She throws a bitter look at the door. 'None of the guards ever heard.'
[RP]: Merchant Czrel comforts the girl. 'So are you leaving with me tonight? Or are you staying for the cane?'
[RP]: (Morneson): She smiles grimly. 'I'm going with you... but you've got to do it fast after dinner.'
[RP]: Merchant Czrel nods. 'After dinner, I will leave immediately with my friend, Morneson.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'Away from all this.. corruption.'
[RP]: Merchant Czrel shakes his head.
[RP]: (Morneson): Crysila chuckles. 'Corruption? There's corruption everywhere... you'll see more in Sthiss Tor, Czrel.'
[RP]: Merchant Czrel smiles thinly. Corruption is only a small part in the big picture of organized crime. 'I'll see you after dinner,' he says as he slowly turn the door knob.
[RP]: (Morneson): 'Hurry!'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Outside, the guards remain oblivious of Czrel's presence. The swift hands of the Drasnian's manage to steal the door keys off the captain.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): He locks the door and quickly places the keys back on the captain's belt. Crouching down, he sweeps away most of the remaining powder on the ground under a rug.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Now that he has seen Crysila, he promptly returns to the healer's.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'Done?' Vyradis asks as Czrel appears in the healer's room.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The Drasnian nods.
[RP]: Morneson stirs, and opens her eyes. She blinks a few times, then says 'Where...?'
[RP]: (Morneson): Vyradis stands up as quickly as her aching joints would allow her. 'Awake?' she asks.
[RP]: Merchant Czrel beams at Morneson as she wakes. 'You're awake.. Finally.'
[RP]: Morneson smiles wryly. 'Yes... Can I have some water please?' Vyradis nods, and pours out a cup of water. 'Sip.' 'I know.'
[RP]: Morneson sits up slowly, careful to avoid moving her injured leg. Vyradis scowls disapprovingly, while Morneson takes small sips of water. 'You should rest more.'
[RP]: Morneson gives a one-shouldered shrug. 'My wound doesn't appear to be infected, and it'll knit in its own time.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The young Drasnian sighs. He knows that the Sendarian is a healer of sorts too.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Then he explains to her of their situation.
[RP]: (Morneson): Both women exchange hard looks.
[RP]: Merchant Czrel says 'We're leaving tonight after dinner. With.. someone.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Without taking her eyes off the elderly Tolnedran, Morneson says 'Oh?'
[RP]: Merchant Czrel nods. He begins to relate the story of Crysila to Morneson.
[RP]: Morneson nods. 'Then you'll need to get some chocolate and extra supplies. I think she can take care of the antidotes pretty well.' She turns her gaze back to the healer, who shrugs.
[RP]: (Morneson): 'Have it your way then. Don't blame me if it scars.' 'Scars don't bother me.' 'Maybe that explains it.' Morneson ignores her remark.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Although Vyradis takes gentle care of Morneson, the latter returns little kindness to the Tolnedran.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Just as the atmosphere begins to tense, someone knocks on the door.
[RP]: (Morneson): 'Come in!' The butler enters, and bows. 'Welcome to Harodus' household.'
[RP]: Morneson eyes the butler coolly. 'Dinner is being served now. Would lady Morneson like to join?' 'Just Morneson will do. And yes I would like to... though how I get out of this room is beyond me.'
[RP]: Merchant Czrel smiles. He has got nothing much to say to the Sendarian although she is awake now. He turns to the butler. 'We will be there. Thank you.'
[RP]: (Morneson): The butler bows and leaves the room. A moment later Harodus and Crysila enter. 'Hello Morneson! Feeling better?' 'Somewhat.'
[RP]: Morneson examines Harodus, who in turns watches her with interest.
[RP]: Merchant Czrel glances at Harodus then at Crysila but quickly removes his gaze. 'Shall we proceed for dinner?'
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus looks amused, and claps his hands. A few servants enter, carring a small table and a few chairs. 'We'll be eating here.'
[RP]: Merchant Czrel chuckles at the Tolnedran's resourcefulness. 'Very well then.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Vyradis looks uncomfortable, but she remains seated on her stool, while the servants continue bringing in food.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The Drasnian notices the healer's unease and turns to Harodus.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'I'm sure Vyradis would like to join us for the effort of taking care of my friend.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Vyradis presses her lips together in a half grimace, half smile.
[RP]: Merchant Czrel then smiles at Morneson but he appears to be somewhat annoyed by her attitude. 'Say something,' he mutters to the uncaring Sendarian.
[RP]: Morneson gives Czrel a hard look. 'I will when there is something to say,' she snaps in a low voice.
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus smiles as the servants finish setting the cutlery. 'Let's begin.' He picks up the fork and starts on his own food.
[RP]: (Morneson): Crysila casts Czrel nervous looks as she nibbles on a slice of fruit, while Vyradis ate slowly.
[RP]: Morneson blows the scalding broth and sips some of it. There is silence in the room.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The Drasnian has little appetite as he knows that the escape will be only a while later. Thus, he decides to recite a poem to break the silence and dampen his hunger.
[RP]: Merchant Czrel begins, 'The dark grey mountains rise,
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Covered with thick clouds.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The forest is spread across the land
[RP]: Morneson listen to the poem with only the faintest amount of interest. Crysila is too nervous to pay too much attention, while Vyradis and Harodus listen attentively.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Like a casually thrown rug.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): It is thick with shadows
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Cut through by water
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The moon is full
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Throwing light and shadow
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): In a chaotic pattern
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): I can hear a soft pattering
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): I'd like to think of it as animals
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): But it's probably rain
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The world is richly beautiful
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): And incredibly surreal
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): And when I awake, I can see
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The light of the baker's across the street
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Shining on my cracked ceiling
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): I'm too lethargic to sigh.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Vyradis and Harodus applaud, followed by Crysila and Morneson. 'Good poem, good poem. You've got talent.'
[RP]: Merchant Czrel falls quiet after his poem. He picks up his spoon and takes a sip of the warm soup.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Harodus and the healer looks at him interestingly. The Drasnian youth does not seem to be one who is fluent with his words but yet the poem had moved their hearts.
[RP]: (Morneson): Morneson takes a loaf of bread and dips it into the soup, then fishes it out and eats it. When she has finished the bread, she folds her hands on her lap.
[RP]: (Morneson): Crysila stares at the ranger with a mix of hope and wariness, and Morneson stares back, her face void of emotions.
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus then turns his attention back to Morneson. There was no doubt she knew how to fight: her build was enough of an indication. She also had a good grip on her expression, and even after years of Tolnedran politics, he could not discern what she was thinking.
[RP]: Morneson returns the Tolnedran's gaze. She is suspicious of his motives, knowing that no Tolnedran was truly free of politics or the influence of money, but she is also reluctant to aid the Nyissan. Nyissa if anything is as bad as Tolnedra in terms of politics.
[RP]: (Morneson): The butler enters hastily, and whispers something into Harodus' ear.
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus stares at the butler. 'The Nyissan ambassador?' he whispers. 'Yes, sir. And a few traders.' Harodus considers it. 'Tell them I'll be right there... Where are they?' 'The sitting room sir.' 'Good. Get them whatever they want.'
[RP]: Morneson strains to listen, but they speak too softly to be heard. All she can hear are their muffled voices, nothing more.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): But the silent Czrel kept still as the two whisper to one another. He concentrates on their lips and tries to filter out background sounds.
[RP]: Morneson shrugs slightly, and drinks some water. She is a ranger, not a politician. She turns to Czrel, who is staring at the Tolnedrans with intense concentration, and waits for him to finish whatever he is doing.
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus massages his temple, and stares at the wall for some time. Then he stands up. 'My apologies, friends, but I have some urgent business to attend to now.
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus leaves the room and hurries to the sitting room. The butler is already waiting for him at the entrance, his mantle hanging from the crook of his arm.
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus quickly takes it and puts it on, briefly checking himself in the mirror.
[RP]: (Morneson): Crysila watches the door close, then hisses 'We must go now!'
[RP]: Merchant Czrel closes his eyes to relax his tense muscles. As the words of the master and the servant slowly replay in his mind, he recites them.
[RP]: Morneson raises an eyebrow. 'Dear girl, I can't even walk properly.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): After he repeats the conversation to the group, he opens his eyes. This is our chance.'
[RP]: Morneson nods. 'I guess I'll have to hobble really quickly.' Vyradis frowns disapprovingly again, but Morneson ignores her.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'Worry not Vyradis,' Czrel assures the healer. 'Harodus promised me a litter to carry Morneson in.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Then she nods, knowing it's too late to argue. 'Get out quickly. I'll arrange for the diversion.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Morneson carefully eases her injured leg onto the floor, wincing slightly at the pain that blossoms. 'Anyone got a staff?' Vyradis hands her own to Morneson, who nods her thanks at the healer.
[RP]: Merchant Czrel notices the ranger being grateful to the healer for once. He snickers softly to himself.
[RP]: (Morneson): Crysila stands up, and starts pacing around the room impatiently, casting dark glances at the ranger. 'Can we hurry?'
[RP]: Morneson manages to stand with the help of the stout staff, and limps her way to the door. Her lips twist into a grimace as her leg starts burning.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'There wouldn't be a lot of walking,' Czrel comforts the ranger. 'Bear with it.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Crysila curtseys formally to the healer, who nods. 'I'll tell my father what you did for me,' she says, and opens the door. 'I'll lead the way. Come on.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Following closely behind the girl, the Drasnian supports the ranger as she ambles out of the room.
[RP]: Morneson resists the urge to swear, as she hobbles after Crysila. The girl leads them through a few passages, and stops at a door. 'These are the stables.'
[RP]: Merchant Czrel says 'A short distance indeed.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The Drasnian quickly supports the limping ranger as she stumbles through the door.
[RP]: (Morneson): Crysila looks at the horses and litter, and smiles. 'Everything's here.'
[RP]: Morneson scowls as she carefully lowers herself onto the litter. 'It better be.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Crysila awkwardly mounts one of the horses, having to jump to get her foot into the stirrup.
[RP]: Merchant Czrel says 'Careful there.'
[RP]: Morneson lies back on the litter stiffly, and covers herself with the blanket.
[RP]: Morneson stares up at the ceiling. 'Check whether he's given us the seal, permit, whatever. In the saddle bags.'
[RP]: Merchant Czrel nods and does as the Sendarian says. But as he goes through all their belongings, he fails to find any permit to leave the city.
[RP]: Merchant Czrel says 'Is it with you Crysila?'
[RP]: (Morneson): Crysila shakes her head, and her eyes widen. 'Then how're we going to get out? I mean, she looks like a corpse.'
[RP]: Morneson scowls even more deeply at the ceiling, but says nothing.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The Drasnian's brows furrow at the thought of Harodus breaking his promises. 'No choice now. We have to sneak out.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Crysila looks down at her dress. 'I think I need something else to wear. They'll definitely recognise me.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Crysila rummages in her horse's saddle bags. 'Do you have anything for me to wear?'
[RP]: Merchant Czrel opens one of the ranger's bag and pulls out a familiar cloak.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'Try this,' Czrel tells the girl. 'Pull the hood over your head.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Crysila does so, and looks at the cloak curiously. 'What's this 'A'?'
[RP]: Merchant Czrel says 'I am about to find out too.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Then the Drasnian looks down at the litter into the eyes of the ranger.
[RP]: Morneson snaps 'We don't have time for this. I'll explain it later. Do you really want Harodus to find us here?'
[RP]: Merchant Czrel shrugs. He closes the bags and mounts his horse. 'Ready?'
[RP]: (Morneson): Crysila nods.
[RP]: (Morneson): Irritably, Morneson says 'Just go.'
[RP]: Merchant Czrel tugs on the horse reins and urges the beast to move. Crysila, now drapped in the ranger's cloak, follows suit.
[RP]: Merchant Czrel says 'We have to be as silent as can be now.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Nervously, Crysila nods again, huddling under the cloak.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The ranger pulls the blanket over her head and remains still.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'Where is a possible unguarded exit?' Czrel whispers to the girl.
[RP]: (Morneson): Crysila stares blankly at Czrel. 'I don't know. I've never been out here much.' She glances back at the motionless ranger. 'Maybe she knows?'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The Drasnian peers around the area. He can do without the help of the mysterious Sendarian. 'This way Crysila.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Crysila looks around furtively. 'What now?'
[RP]: Merchant Czrel beckons the Nyissan. 'Just follow my horse. We can make it out safely.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Crysila nods, gripping the reins more tightly.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Even in the dark, the streets of Tol Honeth are gleaming in the moonlight. The trio huddles closely to the shadows at the road sides, trying to avoid detection as far as possible.
[RP]: (Morneson): Two legionnaires march through the streets, staring around with haughty expressions, but fail to see the two horses and a travois in the shadows of a mansion.
[RP]: Merchant Czrel heaves a silent sigh of relieve.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): They head south towards the secret stables. Czrel remembers seeing a small gate leading outside the city where he spoke to Harodus the day before.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Soon, they reach the alley where the stables are hidden away from the main streets. They take a turn and venture into the small dark pavement.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Suddenly, Czrel's body stiffens. His sharp ears pick up sounds at the end of the alley. They are whispering voices. Maybe voices of conspirators.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'Stay here with her,' whispers the Drasnian. 'I'll go ahead to check.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Crysila shrinks back slightly, and her horse, sensing her fear, tosses its head uneasily.
[RP]: (Morneson): Crysila nods, trembling.
[RP]: Merchant Czrel dismounts and lands quietly on his nimble feet. He puts a comforting hand on the Nyissan girl's shoulder and smiles.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Then he creeps quickly to the shadow's edge.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): He peeps out of his shroud, only to see the small metal gate open. Two Tolnedran traders step into the moonlight talking about yesterday's events in hushed voices.
[RP]: (Morneson): With only torches for illumination in this shadowed, secluded alley, the traders are oblivious to the presence of Czrel.
[RP]: Merchant Czrel listens attentively as the pair discuss about a Drasnian raiding the stables, legionnaires taking bribes and even horse prices.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): He waits for the traders to engross themselves in their conversation. Then he hurls a small stone to the stable walls away from the dark alley's opening.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The stone lands on the wood with sharp screech. The traders whirl around, their attention now diverted to the noise.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Both the men cower in suspicion but they slowly approach the wooden wall to quench their curiosity.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'Who's there?' One of the traders whispers. The other stays behind and looks over the first man's shoulder, not wanting to expose himself to uncertain danger.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): But little does he expect the danger to come from his back.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): A strong arm circles the trader's neck while another cups his mouth. Czrel quickly drags his captive away while he is unable to put up a fight.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'Who's there?' The first trader repeats in a shaking voice, obliviously that his friend has been knocked out cold in the alley.
[RP]: Merchant Czrel returns to the stables to capture the other trader. But as he creeps behind, the latter suddenly loses interest and turns back to where his friend stood.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'Anyways where were.. ' Czrel cuts him off with a swift dagger before his throat.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'Staying quiet may save your life, Tolnedran.'
[RP]: (Morneson): The trader stared at the blade, not quite believing what he saw, and looked up. But he could not make out the man's face. He swallowed.
[RP]: Merchant Czrel smirks. To the Tolnedran, the set of pearly whites seem like a demon's fangs shining in the faint lights.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'I need to leave town, and I need you to be unconscious.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The Tolnedran nods feverishly. 'Anything you say sir.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Immediately, Czrel pushes the trader against the wooden walls. Then he pulls up his dagger and takes aim.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The Tolnedran inhales out a sharp gasp and before Czrel lets fly his weapon. His eyes widen and sweat rolls over his cheeks.
[RP]: Merchant Czrel continues to show off his fangs. He fakes a throw but that is enough to send the trader crumbling to floor.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Unable to contain his emotions, Czrel chuckles at the sight of the fallen man. He crouches down and prods the fainted trader.
[RP]: (Morneson): Crysila fidgets, staring down the alley. 'Why isn't he back yet?' she whispered to herself.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'I was only joking,' he laughs at the Tolnedran.
[RP]: Merchant Czrel stands up and checks outside the gate. Then he returns to the Nyissan's side, grinning from ear to ear. 'All clear my lady.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Crysila jumps slightly, and beams at him gratefully.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The Drasnian quickly leaps up to his saddle. He pulls on the reins of his horse and gestures Crysila to move off.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): In no time, the three escapees are out of the grand city. Moonlight remains elusive to the sides of the city walls where the trio sneakily move along.
[RP]: (Morneson): Crysila looks around, her eyes wide. 'Everything's so... big.'
[RP]: Merchant Czrel nods in reply. He turns back and looks at the main gates south of Tol Honeth, ensuring no one is after them.
[RP]: Merchant Czrel says 'Finally, away from them.'
e breathes in the fresh air and watches the city recede into the distance.
[RP]: Morneson hearing those words, immediately throws off the stifling blanket. She breathes in the fresh air and watches the city recede into the distance.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The Drasnian takes one last look at the grandeur of the white city. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. 'Now for that cloak,' he uttered.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): While enjoying the slow, carefree ride away from Tol Honeth, Czrel focuses his attention on the travois where the ranger rests.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Morneson catches sight of the Drasnian staring at her. She tilts her head a
nd avoids eye contact with him.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): But Czrel remains firm. He reaches out and tugs away the blanket covering h
er. 'Now that we are safe, can I know the truth behind that?'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): He points at the dark green cloak wrapping around Crysila.
[RP]: Morneson sighs. 'Truth behind the cloak? I'm an Adventurer.'
[RP]: Merchant Czrel slaps his palm across his forehead. 'I should have known!'
[RP]: Morneson pauses, then grins. 'I expected you to find out sooner... Most Drasnians would have searched my pack the first night, you know.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Crysila looks confused. 'What Adventurer?'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Czrel almost ignores the Nyissan girl. 'I trusted you enough to give you the benefit of privacy.'
[RP]: Morneson nods. 'You can probably guess who sent me.' She shifts her leg, grimacing. 'Though I certainly did not expect to end up like this.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'It couldn't be him,' Czrel mutters inaudibly under his breath.
[RP]: Morneson explains 'Adventurers is a clan, Crysila. Basically we help each other within the clan. That's all.'
[RP]: Merchant Czrel scowls. 'Yes, fancy spying one another within the clan too.'
[RP]: Morneson frowns slightly. 'Don't be silly. I'm here to make sure you stay in one piece.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The Drasnian finally loses his temper. 'What? Doesn't the farmer trust me s
urvive on my own?' He rolls his eyes in disgust.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'I'm not a..' He hesitates and glances at Crysila. 'I'm not a kid anymore.'
[RP]: Morneson mutters 'Stubborn as ever' to herself, then raises her voice to be heard. 'And do you know anything about Sthiss Tor? What antidotes to which poisons?'
[RP]: Merchant Czrel grits his teeth tightly. 'The ranger is a witty one,' Czrel says to himself.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'How would I not know you stole one of those cloaks? Or maybe even poisoned one of my brothers..'
[RP]: Morneson scowls. 'Because you don't trust or distrust people at the right time. Sometimes I wonder whether Mortiris was walking around with his eyes open or not.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'Then how come I've never seen you at gatherings or meetings before?' Czrel continues to question the identity of the ranger.
[RP]: Morneson smiles slightly. 'I've only joined recently. Besides, if I was at the meeting, how do I watch over you now? You'd know who I am.'
[RP]: Merchant Czrel shakes his head. 'I will only believe the truth from the farmer's mouth.' Czrel inhales to calm down. 'Until then, you will just rest and not interfere.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Crysila listens to the exchange baffledly, then stifles a yawn.
[RP]: Morneson shrugs. 'Believe what you will.' She smiles to herself. 'And let's see what you're capable of.'
Something about Czrel waking up in the morning, both Morneson and Crysila are still asleep (forgot to log this)
[RP]: Morneson stirs as the sun's warm rays reach her, but still exhausted, continues sleeping.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The young Drasnian notices the ranger stirring in her rest. But something else catches his attention.
[RP]: (Asthiss): Seeing how the young Drasnian looks towards his bushes, Asthiss retreats for the moment.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Czrel spots a figure fleeing from his sight. 'Who goes there?' He enquires aloud.
[RP]: Asthiss thinks 'Well I gess my dagger will have to rest untill laiter, but I gess the poison in the bread will work as its sepose to.'
[RP]: Asthiss pats his dagger and whispers to it 'Dont be sssad my love. Your time will come'
[RP]: (Morneson): Crysila, like the ranger, is oblivious to her surroundings, soundly sleeping next to the horses.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): But the dark figure flees fast. In the twinkle of the eye, Czrel has lost view of him. 'Maybe a rabbit,' the Drasnian comforts himself.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): A loud growling slowly wakes the Nyissan girl from her slumber.
[RP]: (Morneson): Crysila sits up quickly, rubbing at her eyes. 'What was that?'
[RP]: (Morneson): She shakes her head, trying to clear the fog of sleep from her mind.
[RP]: Morneson too wakes, but keeps her eyes shut as she listens attentively to the surroundings, feeling weary to her bones.
[RP]: Merchant Czrel blushes slightly. Embarrassed, Czrel confesses sheepishly, 'It's my stomach, I'm hungry already.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Crysila bursts into laughter, and shakes her head. She stands up and stretches, flexing her fingers, then rummages in one of the saddle bags next to her.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'We have bread, don't we?' The tired Drasnian asks Crysila.
[RP]: (Asthiss): Taking his position on the hill, Asthiss takes up his binoculars and looks down into the camp.
[RP]: (Morneson): Crysila nods, pulling out a wrapped bundle. She unfolds the cloth and takes out a loaf. She pauses.
[RP]: (Morneson): Suspiciously, she tears it into two and nibbles at it. A moment later she spits it up, leaping onto her feet. 'Who...?'
[RP]: Asthiss continues to studdy them awile then looks at hits binoculars.
[RP]: Morneson opens her eyes at Crysila's cry, and automatically tries to stand up. Her healing leg buckles and she quickly lowers herself into a sitting positiong. 'Belar, girl, what's wrong with you?'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The Nyissan girl collapses and begins to foam in her mouth.
[RP]: Morneson stares, and tries to stand up again, this time with her staff. She manages to hobble to the Nyissan before collapsing again.
[RP]: Asthiss takes up his box of chalks and picks the colour pink and makes an ex over one of the persons drawn on the stone next to him.
[RP]: Merchant Czrel picks up the loaf of bread and sniffs at it. 'It's poisoned!'
[RP]: Morneson seizes the thrashing Crysila by her wrists. 'Like I didn't notice,' she says drily, 'Now get the water skin and rinse her mouth. Fast.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The Drasnian throws the contaminated loaf on the ground and immediately follow the ranger's orders.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): In his state of confusion, he has totally forgotten the argument he had with Morneson.
[RP]: Morneson is forced to use part of her body weight to restrain the girl, whose eyes have rolled up in her head as she convulses.
[RP]: Merchant Czrel picks up the water skin swiftly and flungs it to the ranger. 'Catch.
[RP]: Morneson ducks down, and the skin sails over her head. 'Do I look like I have a third arm?'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Obviously still angry, the ranger scowls at him. Czrel grabs the container from the ground and puts it slowly to Crysila's mouth.
[RP]: Morneson twists her head around to look at the bread and scowls. 'Whatever posessed her to try tasting them anyway? They're slightly discoloured.'
[RP]: Morneson winces as Crysila kicks her good leg.
[RP]: Merchant Czrel takes no notice of the woman's constant mumblings. Instead, he tries to wipe the foul foam from the girl's mouth while trying to hold her down. 'Stop moving Crysila!'
[RP]: (Morneson): Crysila does not reply.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'We need to bring her to a healer,' Czrel stutters in fear for the girl's life. 'Why don't we head back to Vyradis?'
[RP]: Morneson glares at him. 'Wait a little. She didn't take in much of the poison. And keep rinsing her mouth.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The Nyissan girl begins to cough violently. Czrel nods in agreement with the ranger and quickly pours more clean water into her mouth.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'Are you alright?' The Drasnian begins to question the convulsing girl. 'Talk to me!'
[RP]: Morneson smiles faintly to herself. 'Can't you see she's busy?'
[RP]: Merchant Czrel glares at the Sendarian. 'She can't die.. Not here. Not like this.'
[RP]: Morneson shrugs, feeling the convulsions weaken. 'She'll make it.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Still feverishly rinsing the girl's mouth bottle after bottle, Czrel starts to see the girl's pupils returning to their original positions.
[RP]: (Asthiss): As he sees the girl getting up to a sitting position, Asthiss starts to rub the X from the stone.
[RP]: Asthiss mutters 'I really nead to work on my drugssss. That one ssshould have died before you could ssssay Torak'sss teathsss... well the rat did anyway.'
[RP]: (Asthiss): Something starts glowing and shaking next to Asthiss
[RP]: Asthiss looks down at his gismo and shrugs 'Figguersss, thought I lost them guardiansss long ago.'
[RP]: Asthiss rinses of the drawing on the stone, and puts his box of chalks into his bag, does a final check of what was his camp, nods and then heads away from where the gismo is pointing.
[RP]: (Morneson): Crysila relaxes, and drifts off into slumber.
[RP]: Morneson releases the girl and sits back on the grass. 'There you go. Sleeping... snake.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The Drasnian wipes the beads of sweat of his forehead. Now that the girl is fine, he can confront Morneson once more.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): But as he stands up and ambles towards the ranger, he can see that she is worn out from all the travelling.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): She seems to have fallen asleep again. The Drasnian mutters a curse to himself. 'Some other time perhaps, Sendarian.'