~ Dire Struggle for Dillend: [Archive] [Home] [Previous Turn] [Next Turn] ~

 Posted: 7/1/99

Keeping her eyes focused straight ahead, Emma walked to within a few feet of the table. She executed a quick curtsy, her delicate hands tightly bunched in the folds of her gown. "Your Lordship and Ladyship," she said, smiling to the Duke and his wife, Rebecca. "And Your Grace...," she added, turning slightly to face the High Priest, named Towers, "Anhur has seen me safely here, as you bade me to come."

She gracefully rose from her curtsy and smiled reassuringly to everyone, trying to muster her own courage as well. Her stance remained at attention, her gown a shimmering weave of scarlet with golden threads stitched in an intricate pattern. She raised one hand to her throat where a small pendant dangled from a choker-necklace of black cord, a nervous gesture. The pendant appeared as a miniature sphere composed of interlocking golden rings with small gaps between them. The hollowed center of the sphere cradled a sparkling, ruby gemstone, reflecting the light coming from the table.

Emma smiled to the other newcomer, perhaps sensing a bit of his shyness and immediately feeling a kinship with him. Everyone's eyes were upon them. Straightening once again from another curtsy, she folded her hands before her and wondered if they expected her to address them in some way...to prove her worth to them or something?

When Emma and Hannibal were introduced at the feast, Guilliam quickly looked them over. Hannibal, he thought, would have some stories to tell. Not all of them would be noble but most would be interesting. Emma, on the other hand, appeared more learned. Guilliam thought that her best stories lay in the future. Of course, Emma was also the first woman he had seen since the priestess that took a shine to Edryd.

'Blasted soldier of Anhur,' he thought to himself with humour as he learnt of Emma's devotion to the same deity "Who would have thought choosing the path of righteousness could attract so many beautiful women!"

Despite knowing of her calling, Guilliam could not keep from gazing at her out of the corner of his eye. Lulled by her intoxicating looks, warmed by the glow of wine and made giddy by the merry sounds of music, the young bard was caught unprepared when Emma walked towards him. He was certain that she had spotted him looking at her and felt awkward to have been caught leering. When finally she stood in front of him to request a dance, Guilliam was suprised and tongue-tied. He didn't know quite what to say, and truthfully, didn't remember what eventually came out of his mouth. However, after a few spins on the dancefloor were completed successfully, Guilliam was beginning to feel like his effervescent self again.

When Emma and Guilliam hit the dance floor, Storm looks up from his delicious poultry for a second, and then loudly slides his chair-back a couple of inches. He grabs a leg of turkey and as he leans back swings his dirty boots loudly up onto the table, landing them with a "thunk" a couple of inches from his plate. He eats slowly as he watches the two dance, and as the song comes to a close he begins to laugh obnoxiously. He slams his hand down on the table as he laughs, and then slides his chair forward again as he begins a second offensive on his dinner plate.

Emma raises an eyebrow as she looked directly at the Dwarf as if to show disapproval of his rudeness, but she holds her tongue in check. This one would be much harder to approach, she thinks to herself, her hand tightening upon Guilliam's arm. He certainly seems to be a surly enough character...

"Your friend has had a bit too much to drink, I fear," she whispers to Guilliam.

Crayne smiles as he receives his money and thanks Nigel with a handshake and nodd. He quickly pockets the money and ponders over Nigel's question, "Just one point!" Crayne says with a sniff "Urhmm! Well! You know of this raiding party that you mention based in Lowfield. How many in terms of an estimate would you say there are in this dispatchment of troops. Furthermore, what would be our position within this small army. Would we be simple soldiers or would we have authority to give orders? Also, as our mission is to retake Fort Dillend I would very much appreciate any maps of the area or maybe a plan or sketch of the layout of the Fort, so we can start planning the assault on our journey to Lowfield."

Without realizing what he'd done Crayne had instantly implied his acceptance of the mission. With a number of things on his mind, again he would have to put them back so that he could complete them at a later date.

"I would presume that our position in the army will be one of servitude and advice," Emma boldly speaks aloud to Crayne, "Issuance of orders resides with the commander of any force. Consequently, it would be up to him or her to bequeath additional powers of command to those he would name lieutenant or sergeant." She looked in the direction of High Priest Towers, and bowed her head. Perhaps she had spoken out of turn?

Crayne grins at Emma's interruption. As he begins to speak, however, his features frown all the more severely as time passes, "My lady I am aware of all that you have said and good points they are! Nevertheless, my purpose of the question mainly is to gather from Nigel here, as to whether the Duke has thought about this already. I believe myself it very important, for relations may be very difficult between the soldiers and us if we are not given any authority to tell them what to do. I need to know now for I like to plan ahead and if there is a negative reply to the above then it would inform me that the mission would be a wasted one for me personally. As we seem to be crucial to the cause it seems logical that the Duke would have addressed this matter. I hope I have explained myself clearly and hope that you understand." Crayne nodds hiding a grin. Lifting his head slowly his face returns to his usual stern appearance. He looks at Nigel awaiting his reply.

Emma waits until Crayne had finished his speech, listening patiently to his words, and stifling her impulse to interrupt him. She waits until Crayne had turned his attention away from her once more, obviously expecting a reply from Nigel, before boldly speaking up again, "I understand your position,...Highbrow? Was that how you referred to yourself earlier? The concern that you emphasize regarding the relations between us and the soldiers we will be working with is well-founded, I believe. Given that, however, I think we should be aware of the soldiers' perception of our group. Anhur has taught us that organized troops take time to build a certain level of trust. These soldiers that we will be joining will have very little reason to trust our leadership if it is suddenly thrust upon them. Therefore, giving us the authority to tell them what to do would only cause them to obey our orders with their minds at best, and not their hearts. It may seem like a small thing, but history teaches us that wars have been lost for just such reasons.

"As for the mission being a 'waste' for you personally," she continues, her passion for debate evident by the look in her eye, "without such leave to issue orders for the King's army... Well, I've always been one to believe that everyone has a job to perform upon the battlefield, and we should all be happy with that job, no matter how big or how small. As my master is fond of saying, 'It's impossible for everyone to lead...else there would be no foot-soldiers left to win the day.' If we are truly crucial to the success of this mission against Caerloon, let us not be so hasty in assuming that our crucial role is that of leadership. An independent force...composed of a small cadre of warriors...when placed into the field at the right time and in the right place, most often carries the day. Perhaps our role will be something similar? It will be up to us to trust that our commander knows when to deploy our force and in the manner that will bring us all success. As you said, surely the Duke, in his wisdom, will have addressed the matter."

Crayne responds quickly. "Well I think that you have touched on a point which is of great importance. I myself had considered this. However, it seems we have quite a reputation now as the Rinder's Six so perhaps and I am hoping that we will be regarded with a little praise. We have in one of our missions assured material to build armor for the soldiers. I just hope that they consider that!" Crayne says relaxing his frown and speaking with the lady on his level.

Emma nods to Crayne, remember the Knight who appears a little miffed that he has yet to respond to the issue. She turns to regard Nigel, smiling apologetically for interrupting, "Please forgive me. Perhaps my words do not matter. What has His Lordship decided regarding our role in the campaign?"

"Oh my dear I did not mean to offend." It is Crayne's voice again. Emma can see Nigel roll his eyes as the overly polite debate continues. "I am happy to fight for the cause. What I was saying, perhaps I put it wrong, was that I feel I would be wasted as a mere foot soldier. I believe I do have a skill and I feel it a shame if I was to put that to misuse. For me as I said, personally it would be a waste." Crayne says as he again awaits Nigel's answer.

Nigel then loudly clears his throat, as if to say "enough!" He looks hard at both Emma and Crayne, then casts a glace toward Towers. "The details of your role in this mission will be worked out with the commander at Lowfield. The Knights and King simply want the situation on the front brought under control. Do not presume yet," Nigel looks to Crayne, "that you are officers within the King's Army. If that is to be, it will be so after you've completed this mission. But, neither will you be common foot soldier's, I'm sure. You are right, Mage Crayne. To relegate Rinder's Six to that would, indeed, be a waste." He looks to Emma as if to prove that he is siding with no one. "It would make sense to me if your group were not leading a large contingent of troops. This group has proven itself to work extremely well when given authority over itself, but not responsibility for others. The commander at Lowfield would be wise to take that into consideration."

"One other, small question," Canter says, raising his finger and peeking into the tense conversation. "I know I speak not only for myself, but also for the very hungry dwarf and my dancing friend. But where shall we meet you, Sir Nigel, once we've recaptured the fort, to claim our prize?"

A small smile appears on Nigel's face, and he chuckles a bit. "Once the mission is complete, you should return to Merriam. I will meet you there at the King's Castle." He then remembers Crayne's request. "You do seem the planner in the group! I will see to it that the Duke's mapmaker gives you a sketch of Dillend before you depart."

Crayne then turns to the newcomers, offering his hand to both, "Good day to you both! I am Crayne, or Highbrow as they like to call me!" he smiles at Guilliam as he says this, "I am sure you will be an asset to our existing party. If it possible maybe we could later speak in private together just to establish who you are and what you are skilled in. Obviously we will tell you more of us too! It is always helpful, especially at times of war to know each others strengths and maybe weaknesses." Crayne nodds in an assertive manner. You see a 6-foot human, slight and a dark complexion with dark intelligent eyes and black hair. At the moment there is a slight stubble to his chin displaying a sign of travelling. He wears a cloak which drapes over his shoulders down to the floor. He holds a staff in his right hand, with a beautiful shooting star crafted into the end.

"I am prepared to speak freely," Emma offers, "I am a Shield Maiden of Anhur, God of Justice, Truth, and Guardianship...twin to..." Her voice faltered as she looked once more toward the High Priest, but then tightened and became stronger with determination as she returned her eyes to Crayne, "Twin to Nire, God of the Sun, the Sky, and Our Future." Emma inclines her head, tilting her chin in acknowledgement of Crayne's nod, happy to see that he has accepted her declaration and inclusion within the group. Her eyes wander over the rest of the group, but studiously avoid looking toward High Priest Towers again. A small smile of personal triumph curls at the corners of her mouth.

"Hello," Canter says, extending his hand across the table to Emma. "I'm Canter. I'd be honored to watch your back in the battles ahead." His thin frame, and slight goatee reveal a smile as he shakes her hand. He then turns to Hannibal. "A pleasure to meet you, Hannibal Smith, I'm sure your talents, whatever they may be, will no go to waste in this party."

Edryd, silent so far, then smiles toward Emma. "As one worshipper of Anhur to another, I welcome you. I am Edryd of Kalt." Emma bows her head slightly and smiles at his greeting. Edryd then greets Hannibal as well, being polite and concise.

"And what about you?" Emma asks Cy, who also has been silent.

"Milady, you are deceiving. You don't look the warrior, though I cannot but compliment the way you look." He bows his head slightly with the greeting. "I am the warrior and mercenary Cyveiliog. Welcome to the party." His strength is plainly evident as he grips her delicate -- though not weak -- hand. "And I must also compliment you, good man," Cy says to Hannibal gesturing toward his longsword, "on that fine piece of craftsmanship you have there." Hannibal nods and smiles in thanks.

Then, the other members of the court rise from their seats, sensing that Rinder's Six will need some time to themselves to plan their journey. They begin to file out, and Towers stops by Edryd before leaving, whispering in his ear, "The caste greatly thanks you for your continued and faithful service. And for parting with some of the spoils you have received along the way..." He raises an eyebrow, patting Edryd on the shoulder, and exits the hall.

Standing up with a bounce, Guilliam walks up to Hannibal. Before reaching the reclusive man, he stops to pick up a glass of wine for himself and a beer for his destination. "Looks like you're the type of man who could enjoy one of these" he says, putting the beer down beside the half-finished glass of Hannibal's. Guilliam turns to Hannibal, trying to find a part of his belt to secure his new money pouch to. "Well my friend," he says. "You know that I am Guilliam and I know that you are Hannibal. Now, I'll let you know something else about me. I am a collector of stories and a singer of songs. More than that really. For I am also a teller of truths. 'Don't let the facts get in the way of the truth', I always say. And these two professions of mine are intertwined magnificently. For the best way of telling the truth is through stories and songs." Guilliam stops abruptly to decide if he is making an impression or not.

Hannibal stares longingly at the pouch of gold at Guilliam's belt, wondering what treasures it may contain. Realizing the Bard was done, he returns his gaze to find Guilliam looking at him inquisitively. "Sorry, force of habit," he states with a slight grin. Taking time away from his drink, he extends his hand in friendship, "Name's Smith, Hannibal Smith."

Hannibal seemed a hard man to read, so Guilliam straightens his colorful cloths, inches the beer closer to Hannibal, and says "I'm always interested in hearing something new. Feel free to illuminate me on a truth that I have never heard and perhaps I can put some fame to your name in a story of song that'll be sung and retold long after yer gone." With a wild smile, Guilliam taps his money pouch, winks at Hannibal and says as he turns "'Tis a fine life I lead, don't you think."

Hannibal looks at Guilliam in utter fascination for a moment before replying this time. "Sorry, it's just that I've not spent alot of time in the company of Bards. If indeed our future rewards are as great as that," motions to pouch, "I think I may just have a new line of work." Finishing off the beer he had been working on, he takes the drink offered by Guilliam with thanks and offers a toast between the two of them. "To a profitable future...and hopefully a long one." With that he smiles again, taps Guilliam's cup, and takes a slug of his beer.

After Guilliam talks with Hannibal, Storm gets up slowly from his chair with another piece of chicken and moseys on over to where Hannibal is sitting. "Ay there, how ye be? I be Storm! Ye only non human in this here band o' scallions!! Ha!!" Hannibal can probably smell the excessive amount of liquor that Storm has already imbibed on his breath. Despite his being bathed by maidens in the castle before arriving at the feast, Storm is looking rather disheveled. His several daggers lie uneven around his belt, and his two long swords hang low below his waist. They even occasionally scrape the floor as he walks, although he pays that no heed. His beard is covered with food, discolored by chicken bits and soup, and his unattractive face looks weary with travel and fatigue. His boisterous attitude would never show it, though. The dwarf is just happy to be eating free food and wine.

Hannibal gives Storm a quick once over and grins. 'If he wasn't my team member,' he thinks to himself, 'I'd pick his drunk carcass clean!' Extending an arm and patting the stout Dwarf on the back he says, "Storm, a suitable name for a warrior. I'd love to hear about some of your past adventures, and maybe even why I'm here now."

"I don't know about some of those court-types," Guilliam announces to the whole group now that the last of the others have left. Only Rinder's Six (all eight of them) remain in the hall. "If the Duke trusts them, they must be trustworthy, but I have my suspicions. Gladstone and Peters Lander seemed decent men, though watchful. I'm not sure about that man Paros, though. Does any one know of his role? I suspect there is more behind him then we know of. Perhaps some connection with the Red Dragon School? And I did hear Gladstone and Jornek talking rather secretively about the mine, though maybe they're as cautious around Paros as I'd be."

"Arrr! Sut yer trap and eat up!" Storm growls, the wine obviously taking its full effect.

Guilliam turns to the others, looking at Emma, "I think you're right. Maybe someone here has had a little too much..."

Edryd then speaks. "I think perhaps we should all get some rest tonight. We'll meet here tomorrow morning to bid the Duke farewell before we leave. Perhaps stop at the Church and marketplace before leaving the city?"

"Sounds like a plan," Canter says with a smile and a yawn. "I haven't had such good wine in a while but good gods is it making me sleepy!"

The following morning arrives too early for some, the effects of the previous evening still lingering painfully in their heads. Aside from those lasting effects, however, all are in good spirits. Canter, Cy, Guilliam, Cranye, Storm, Hannibal, and Edryd meet in the hall before the Duke arrives. Just after the Duke enters and takes his seat in the center of the room, another side door opens and a figure steps through.

For a moment there is silence in the room as she approaches. She has the same face, the same rebellious eyes, and the same beautiful hair as the Emma from the previous night. But the shiny chain mail armor and seraded spear in her hand, coupled with the hardened and focused look on her face make her seem like a totally different woman.

"The gods be merciful," Guilliam whispers as she approaches. "Who are you and what have you done with my dancing partner?" He jests, getting only a slight smile in return.

"My apologies, gentlemen, your Lordship, I was just finishing my morning prayers."

The Duke nods in acceptance. "Gentlemen, I wish you the best of luck in this mission. Though my Dukedom is far from the border and well protected by the sea and the mountains, I care for the entire Kingdom of Rinder and will not stand to see it turned to wasteland by those barbarous animals from Caerloon. I expect you will do all in your power to see that the situation along the border is resolved, as the Knights so hope. May the gods smile upon you. Good day."

The group leaves the hall, crossing through the main gates of the castle and out into the city of Parton itself. The morning is bright, with not a cloud in the sky. In the distance one can just barely see the tall mountaintops of the Raimead mountains. On the street, various vendors sell their wares and shopkeepers stand in their doorways calling buyers. The smell of baking bread wafts down the narrow streets and fills the nostrils.

So it is through these pleasant streets that the group walks, stopping every so often to examine a sword, a suit of armor, a wagon wheel, or just a melon or loaf of bread. The morning's pleasantries are brought to an end, however, when a man comes running from down the street directly at the party.

He is portly, perhaps six feet or a few inches shorter. His frame may be large, but he is not fat. The stubble on his cheeks and chin sets him far apart from the royalty the party has been used to seeing. Behind him, two other men come jogging, clubs in hand. The lead man heads straight for Guilliam, grabbing the bard by the arm.

"You!" He yells, startling the people in the street. He growls in Guilliam's face and looks over the rest of the party. The men behind him simply pat their hands with their clubs in the other, wearing their studded leather armor proudly. "You haven't lived up to the bargain! Han is really, really, mad. He wants his money!"

Guilliam smiles nervously, turning from the party back to this Neanderthal. "This can all be explained...you see...I just....well...."

1. Edryd - will you tithe any of your newfound wealth while you are in town, during the morning?

2. If anyone would like to make any purchases before the long trip to Lowfield, now is a good time to do it. Being a major city, most commonly found weapons, armorpieces, etc are available, though for a price...

3. As you've probably noticed, I consolidate each character's response to the previous turn in the next turn. I am very pleased that the previous turn generated so much of a response, and I highly encourage that for every turn! Just be aware that to include every single line of each person's response will make each subsequent turn extremely long, so I will not always reprint everything that you send. It is assumed in most cases, however, that even if it does not appear in the subsequent turn, all the conversation and thoughts did take place. All major actions will be included in each turn.

4. Any other actions before getting on the road? How will you deal with this marketplace encounter?

Crayne looks towards the man and Guilliam, "Gentleman! Gentleman! Please! Please! We are in a public place! Lower your voices" Crayne says in a manner of calm, "Now perhaps we can find somewhere that is a little more private and settle this manner." Crayne looks the man over. "I am sure here that my friend Guilliam has a good explanation for his not living up to your bargain! Now please let us go the cafe over there and talk this through in a respectable manner."

Guilliam is shocked by the audacity of the thugs who stalked him in broad daylight in such a crowded public place. So suprised was he that he couldn't even manage to evade them with a deft leap to safety. Held, like a fox in a trap, he looks anxiously to his friends, then to the thugs and then back to his friends again. "I...I can explain everything" he says. While talking, his worried expression disolves and his face becomes an actor's mask. "There's obviously been a misunderstanding. You see..." Just at that moment, Emma stepps up to the long armed the burly man with his grip on Guilliam.

She steps forward and pushes her gloved-hand against the newcomer's chest as if to separate him from Guilliam, or at the very least get his attention. She doesn't look at all happy with his lack of manners. "Do you know this man?" she asks the bard, "Why would he approach you with such rudeness?"

"No, no, no, no" Guilliam exclaims. His face once again takes on an anxious look. But this time, it also shows guilt. "I don't want any problems here." Guilliam then squirms a bit, trying to escape the grip of the thug.

Hannibal, meanwhile, falls back and attempts to melt into the crowd. Slowly, he works his way around to a rear position on the two thugs...dagger at the ready for trouble.

As the three men face the party, Storm stands idly toward the back of the group. He is, though, very wary of the situation; he notices Hannibal blend into the crowd and start moving around behind the men. As he sees the practiced stealth in Hannibal's moves, Storm cracks a small smile and snickers to himself. As he does, he very smoothly and without obvious movements removes a dagger from his belt with each hand. Hoping that his relative size and location to the men will prevent them from noticing. He cuffs the daggers, holding them with the blades running up his arms so as to further prevent their detection.

Cy measures the situation quickly. He takes on the manners and seeming lack of intelligence of a street thug. (Cy has worked for organized crime in the past.) With his 'Guido Act' in place, he interposes himself between Guilliam and the Thug, standing close to Emma.

"I wo'd be'n inclined if you wo'd place yerseelf at a reespectible way from my boss. These aren't words forin streets. As he say'n, lets teek theese elsewhere."

Emma raises an eyebrow at the scene unfolding before her. At first, she had assumed that the ruffians had simply mistaken Guilliam for someone else. She would never suspect him of having anything to do with these sorts of people. But then, Guilliam's actions don't exactly seem to be those of an innocent man...and suddenly Cy has begun to act very convincingly as if he too could be a ruffian. What sort of people had she gotten herself involved with? She had taken these men to be honorable servants of the King and possibly Anhur as well. Confused, she takes a step back, not sure what to do or say...

Canter and Edryd, both seeing the situation get very crowded, decide not to intervene. They remain where they stand, effectively blocking Storm's actions as the dwarf stands behind them in the street, peeking through between their tall frames. Canter's confusion at Cy's sudden change of persona does betray him, however, as his jaw drops slowly when he hears the war-hardened warrior speak.

Hannibal continues to creep through the crowd, knowing that the two ruffians are probably unaware of him but being careful just in case. He is more worried about a 'sleeper' at the moment, recalling a few jobs for a Thieves Guild once where he learned that when facing superior forces you always used every trick possible. (When they jumped a party of adventurers back from a successful hunt, he distinctly remembered how surprised the adventurers had been when their thief had been taken out by a sleeper and thus took away their flanking maneuver.)

Now Hannibal was aligned directly behind the two thugs. He peers through the crowd, picking out the ones that could pose a threat should something bad happen. 'I had better get a good cut from this job!' he mutters to himself while he waits, dagger in hand.

It was the lead thug's move. Confused by Guilliam's, Cy's, and Emma's speeches, he pauses for a moment. Then his face hardens. "Han said not to fall for no tricks," he says, looking directly at Guilliam. "You pay up now, or me and my pals'll have to hurt you."

"But I...can't we just...wait..." Guilliam sputters, not exactly sure how to play the situation.

The two thugs behind the lead man then take a step forward, and Hannibal can see their grips on their clubs hardening. Seeing the situation go from bad to worse, he decides to take action. 'Better to strike first,' he thinks to himself, 'at least you live to strike again next time!' With that, he leaps on one of the thugs, pushing a couple of common-folk out of the way in the process. He sinks his dagger into the big man's back. The man begins to turn around, but soon runs out of energy. He coughs, spitting blood on the ground, and collapses in a heap at Hannibal's feet.

Meanwhile, seeing Hannibal make his move, Storm instantly acts. He shoves Edyrd and Canter aside, whipping a blade at the second thug. The blade hits the man square in the chest, and he falls to the ground on his knees. He drops his club and clutches at the blade, still stuck in his chest, blood pouring all over his mud-stained shirt.

The lead thug, hearing the commotion behind him, turns around to see what is going on. His eyes widen as he sees his two men on the ground, one dead, one dying. He then tightens his grip on his own club. He growls quickly and turns back to face Guilliam (who has broken from the thug's grip when he turned around) and Cy.

"Get down!" Canter calls to Guilliam and Cy. They duck just in time, and the lead thug faces front just in time to be met by Crayne's color spray spell, which shoots from his outstretched hands with rainbow colors. His mouth drops in horror, seeing the ray of colors approaching him, but then his eyes close. He drops to the ground next to his two companions, knocked out.

At this point, the actions in the middle of the street have caused quite a scene. Passers-by, shopkeepers, and children line the side of the street, looking anxiously at the three bodies on the ground, and the eight standing above them. Hannibal's right hand is covered in blood as he raises his eyes and looks to the others across the bodies.

Edryd then steps in. "Hannibal, Cy, Canter. Grab these bodies. We must get them out of the street." The thief and the three warriors grab the bodies, dragging them (leaving two trails of blood) into a nearby alley. Before leaving for the alley, Edryd turns to the others. Looking at Guilliam, he says, "You deal with these people. We don't want more trouble than we've already got." He sounds a bit annoyed, having not wanted such bloodshed in broad daylight in the middle of the crowded city street. He turns to Emma, who stands still, not sure of what to make of the situation. "My lady of the warrior caste," he says, almost mokingly, "maybe you can help your bard friend and get us out of this mess. Tell these people something...anything." He then talks quietly, "I'll see you in the alley."

Emma steps quickly to Guilliam, placing her gloved hand on his shoulder to calm him. "Guilliam, won't you tell me--and the others--just what happened here? But before you do, what will we tell these people?"

1. During the morning shopping spree, Emma bought one Broad Sword, paying 10 gp. I've added this to your CIS, please update your records accordingly.

2. Emma, Guilliam, Crayne, and Storm: What will you tell the people in the street? Or will you simply turn and meet the others in the alley?

3. What will be done with the two dead thugs? And what about the lead thug who is temporarily unconcious? Will you kill him? What happens when he wakes up?

4. Guilliam, how will you answer Emma's question and explain this little encounter to the party?

~ Dire Struggle for Dillend: [Archive] [Home] [Previous Turn] [Next Turn] ~