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  #31  
Old Jan 22nd, 2018, 12:20 PM
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IntroductionSharn, the largest city on the continent of Khorvaire, knows many names: the City of Towers, the City of Knives, the City of Lost Souls, the Gateway to Perdition... the Gateway to Xen'drik. The ominous name which you ascribe to such a many-faceted city such as this, however, would largely depend upon the nature of your business on any given day.

Within the walls that rise from the cliff faces of the Hilt is a maze-like network of structures that defies not only logic but the very truths that bind the world together, as well. Towers piled on top of towers reach higher and higher still, creating a man-made mountain of spires and skyscrapers that disappears into the dark clouds above.

From the the sordid filth of the shanties and hovels within the churning molten depths of the Cogs to the grand crystalline spires suspended far above the tallest towers of the Upper City, Sharn seethes with activity. Houseless ragamuffins scrape, steal, and fight just to survive, forgotten beneath the weight and shadows of the towers where unimaginably wealthy scions of noble birth and Dragonmarked houses make their homes. To say that the city is beautiful and a marvel to behold is to turn a blind eye the squalor below. To say that the city is the pinnacle of civilization is to ignore the evil plots and selfish schemes of the men that make this city their home.

But ignorance, as they say, is bliss...
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Old Jan 22nd, 2018, 12:22 PM
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Later that evening...

The taproom of the Gray Gargoyle is quiet but for the roar of the veritable deluge falling on the street outside. Most of the year, Sharn's weather varies from hot and humid to hot and rainy, with brief periods of warm and dry conditions. It doesn't rain constantly in the City of Towers, but few days pass that boast no precipitation at all. You may wonder, however, how it is even possible that a such a storm as this came to be within only a few hours...

It may be unsettling to witness manifestations of such a violent, otherworldly storm, but life in Sharn depends on it. Nowhere else in Khorvaire are such architectural and airborne marvels of artifice possible, largely due to its connection with these forces. The window is once more illuminated, a clap of thunder punctuating the thought.

Business is i.e. The taproom is empty but for your group...so slow that the proprietor stands idle by the door, staring up into the sky, tugging on his mustaches and grumbling about the storm. At nearly seven feet tall and close to three-hundred pounds of solid mass, he looks more like a carnival sideshow attraction than a businessman. If this city has taught you anything, however, it is that looks are frequently deceiving. Boyd, as he prefers to be called, is a retired Colonel of the Brelish Army -- and a war hero at that. His scathing rants about the sexual orientation of Aundairian wizards and their obsession with wands is more popular than any song that the bards have performed in his establishment. He's a good fellow, if not a bit gruff and opinionated, but that's half of his charm. A violent flash of golden lightning illuminates his wide frame in the doorway, the ensuing rumble momentarily silencing the lazing servers at the bar as they enjoy the easy evening service.

You can't say that you enjoy being out and about on such a night, but when the opportunity to make a little money calls, people typically answer it. The economy seems to be taking a downward turn and many hard-working men and women worry about whether they are going to have enough saved to get them through the winter, mild as it may be in Sharn. You may not be in such dire straits, but coin doesn't last very long in Sharn, and it's nice to have a little cushion.

Boyd turns from the door and watching the storm outside, wiping at his bald pate and blowing at thick mustaches that look like they were taken from a sea lion. It only takes a look to scatter the servers from the bar, sending them to every corner of the empty tavern to at least look as if they are gainfully employed.

"Hell of a night," Boyd says as he snaps his suspenders across his barrel-like chest, heading back to the bar to draw a pint of top-shelf stock for himself. "Perfect for staying in your favorite taproom, spending all your hard earned coin on overpriced, watered down ale, right?" he says with a chuckle.

On the upside, having the tavern all to yourselves means your cup never gets more than half-empty. On the downside... it is well past sundown and your contact, Provost Bonal Geldem, has not arrived.
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  #33  
Old Jan 22nd, 2018, 06:44 PM
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Ky RavsenHer cloak pulled up over her head, the worst of the rains had been kept at bay, though it seemed, as always, some trickle always managed to creep in and find its path down her spine. Ky shook her head at the sensation though her attention was better focused on the proprietor of the establishment they had been directed to. While it was clear that the others were arriving or had already arrived near the same time as she, Ky had little time for them initially, instead as she threw back her hood and stepped inside with a flourish that only she seemed to pull off and somehow look more a dancer than a dramatic actress. The lithe woman threw her arms out and greeted Boyd with the resounded sound of two loud kisses, one for each cheek. It was clear Ky knew Boyd, at least somewhat, though possibly slightly odd to have greeted the former Brelish soldier with such aplomb, though it seemed his past phased her little. "Mchow, mchow! Hard earned coin and watered down ale indeed, I would be sore disappointed if you served me straight rot gut my love, this lil thing can't handle the burn." A wink and a flip of a coin as she paid for her drink before Ky actually turned to take in the room and look to the rest who had shown. A small part of her had wondered if all would show, but it seemed it was only a fleeting thought. Indeed it was their guide who seemed painfully absent, an absence which left a small frown ghosted about the corner of her eyes.

Drink acquired, room scanned and now left wanting, Ky sighed and began to toy with something in her right pocket. Damp hair clung to her forehead and neck and a steady drip of water began to create a pool at her feet as she seemed disinclined to take a seat for the moment. A soft murmur was all she offered at first on her assessment of the situation."This... does not seem to be starting off well..."



 

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Old Jan 22nd, 2018, 08:36 PM
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Ghir'WasGhir'Was didn't let the rain bother him. He moved through it as if it were not even there. Still, occasionally he would stop and look into a dark space as if he saw something lurking about. If he did, then whatever he saw was not enough to give him pause, or to cause any concern for the group. Lumbering like an Ogre's shadow down the street his arrival at the tavern was much less artistic than Ky's. Sopping wet, The shifter had very little care about stopping to dry himself off before entering. Ghir'Was stopped short in the doorway however once he saw the inside. He had every intention of just walking in, and finding a seat. Once he recognized the owner that changed. He quickly squeezed what water he could out of his belongings and took his boots off as to not track mud into the establishment. He even went as far as to encourage the others to do the same.

"Colonel." He uttered, chin high and eyes alert. It may have been the first time in a long time that he was saddened by the state of his old scout uniform. "Ghir'Was is honored." He waited to be addressed before moving to find himself a seat.
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Old Jan 23rd, 2018, 09:30 AM
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Kova YarabreeIt would come as little surprise to anyone who knew the halfling that Kova chose a seat at the Gargoyle by a broad open window looking out on the rainstorm. The halfling loved rain and while he rarely would allow himself to be drenched by it, he preferred to sit and watch it so close that the breeze or splash from a puddle would inevitably deflect some of onto him. Rain changed the world he thought. It changed the way it looked, sounded, smelled. It changed what you could see and learn. Busy squares, choked with people, would be laid bare and empty by rain. The reek of tobaccos and spices from across Eberron could be washed from the air in minutes, giving way to older and more stubborn smells. Sounds echoed farther, it seemed, across wet flagstones and down empty alleyways. Soft shoes that would muffle footfalls on stone splashed as loud as iron boots in puddles of water. Even places indoors changed when it rained. And so Kova sat by the window, eyes wide as they looked out into the darkness and the rain, wondering when Provost Geldam would arrive.

Kova's spell book lay open in front of him. He had decided to make a last minute adjustment to his memorized cantrips. That bit of studying behind him, he had absent-mindedly left it open to the Ray of Frost page, which now as getting lightly spritzed by rain water. He blotted up the raindrops with his sleeve and closed the leather bound tome. He had nursed one glass of wine since he had arrived and now saw little risk in starting a second, so he removed his napkin from the rim and pushed it outward where a serving girl quickly filled it with sweet red. He nibbled at a piece of bread from his basket and spun a silver coin on its side.

Ky and Ghir'was had arrived, both recognizing the famous Colonel Boyd and making a show of their familiarity. Kova smiled. High-ranking officers seldom knew well as many people as knew them well. But such is the cost of celebrity. If it bothered the Colonel he wouldn't have opened a tavern. Of course to Boyd, Kova would only be an occasional customer. The young halfling had never impressed House Ghallanda enough to be included on one of their "diplomatic missions" to bring the Gargoyle into the fold. That suited Kova fine, people usually showed him more when he remained below their threshold of notice. The wizard sighed absently and leaned against the window frame, peering out across the wet stones of the square and sipping his wine. I wonder what's keeping the provost? he thought, smiling at the juxtaposition with their earlier encounter with the hyper-punctual Captain Marta.

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Last edited by ruffdove; Jan 23rd, 2018 at 03:06 PM.
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  #36  
Old Jan 24th, 2018, 11:06 AM
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Arrun CorliostorArrun strode out of the meeting room, through the university warehouse and out into the city streets. He had only been in Sharn for a short time so the design and layout of the city was a marvel to him. Most cites, when expanding, did so by incorporating lands that surrounded them, growing outwards. Sharn, on the other hand, did not have that luxury, so its expansion must be up towards the heavens. The size and construction of the massive buildings that filled Sharn were an amazement to Arrun and it would be a while before he was comfortable among them.

The one area of the city that Arrun was most familiar with was Hope’s Peak (Temple District) in Upper Dura. He followed the skyways, or what constituted streets, to the north through Highest Towers, Mithral Tower, and Korrannath. As he drew close to Hope’s Peak, Arrun could see the golden glow of the towers even with the cloud cover. He made his way quickly through the crowds of worshipers and priests to his destination, the Cathedral of the Cleansing Flame.

Arrun had spent most of his time at the Cathedral, not because he was interested in anyone in service there, but because it was someplace he could feel close to the Silver Flame. Even if it was only in his mind, he could feel a presence while he was there and that kept his resolve strong. As for those in service, he had spent time with more honorable people back in Thane, and that wasn’t saying much. But, for his current needs, a servant of the temple with some greed and selfishness could still do some good. There was one priestess in particular Arrun was in need of, Isti Graccen, a Brelish cleric with a willingness to provide personal aid at a profit. Arrun had met Isti several weeks earlier as he explored the temple. His disillusionment with those in leadership of the church caused a need in him to evaluate everyone in power in the church. It didn’t take much to find those in positions of power who were corrupt, greedy and selfish.

While Arrun was not completely in favor of the utilization of temple assets, assets that were designated to care for the poor and destitute, he did feel this situation was special. His purchase of a wand for healing was to aid in his new endeavor, one that would result in the triumph of good over evil if successful. The good use of this wand would, ultimately, benefit the poor citizens of Sharn, Breland and all of Eberron. So, Arrun had no qualms purchasing a wand from Isti and the priestess had no issue with selling said item. It was a quick transaction so Arrun spent the rest of the day in meditation on the events of the morning and on what lie ahead.

It was evening and the storms had come, the rain coming down steady as Arrun left the Cathedral. He headed back south the way he had come, returning to the University District, but this time to Kelsa Spire. He found the tavern, the Gray Gargoyle, and quickly made his way through the entrance and out of the rain. He paid little heed to the rain water that ran down his armor as he scanned the room, seeing only his new companions. He stepped over to the bar where the barkeep was serving drinks, "I’ll have one of those ales." Arrun set a coin on the counter in payment, "You wouldn’t happen to know a Bonal Geldem would you? We were supposed to meet him here but there is, as of yet, no sign of him."
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  #37  
Old Jan 25th, 2018, 08:58 PM
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The big man known as Boyd gives Ky a disapproving glare, folding his arms across his broad chest such that it looks as if his sleeves are fit to burst. For added effect, he purses his lips in such a way that it causes his mustache to bristle like a cornered porcupine... but alas, it is all an act as he breaks into a grin once she is done with him.

"Hey, Gorgeous," he mutters with a playful wink, taking her coin and pouring another of what he's drinking. "You? Rotgut? I'll stick to your usual of Brain Rot and Arsenic, hehe!" There's nothing like the attention of a pretty young woman to make a man strut around like a The humans of House Vadalis have a talent for creating all sorts of unusual and exceptionally striking beasts. There are few horses in Khorvaire which can outpace a magebred stallion, and their contributions to Breland's Bear Cavalry is something terrifying...magebred peacock...

When Ghir'was addresses him by his rank, he stops and squints suspiciously at the shifter, trying to put it together. He scratches at his chin when he notices the uniform - a little worse for wear - but doesn't admonish the shifter for it. In fact, you'd think the way the lights play on his eyes that they get a little watery.

"It's just Boyd nowadays," he begins, waving off any sort of military courtesies that might be coming his way. Now that the War is over, he's just a man living out his dream. "Did we serve together? How about a round for you and your friends... on the house," he offers.

Quote:
Originally Posted by Arrun
"You wouldn’t happen to know a Bonal Geldem would you? We were supposed to meet him here but there is, as of yet, no sign of him."
"As a matter of fact, I do," he says before turning to see if his staff is getting busy bringing you all those drinks he promised. He takes a second to assess Arrun before apparently deciding that he's on the level. "Professor at Morgrave University, right? He's been coming in here a few times a week of late. He usually hangs about for a few hours... takes his dinner while reading through a stack of books as tall as he is."

He looks outside, wincing a little as another great peal of thunder rattles the windows and the lights overhead.

"Hmm," he muses. "I hate to think he's out there in that dread. Keeps getting worse and worse, every year! I think it's a sign of the times... ill portents and such... " he trails off. Everyone in Sharn has a theory about the weather...
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Old Jan 25th, 2018, 11:33 PM
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Quote:
"It's just Boyd nowadays," he begins, waving off any sort of military courtesies that might be coming his way. Now that the War is over, he's just a man living out his dream. "Did we serve together? How about a round for you and your friends... on the house," he offers.
Ghir'Was nods approvingly of the offer. "Ghir'Was scouted for the Bear Calvary near Red Bend. Was on Eastern ridge, cut trails for the Forty Fifth irregulars. Not involved in the battle. Ghir'Was and other scouts saw the results. Saw the charge. Were moved back to cut trails for supply lines soon after that Colonel." He understood that he didn't need to use his rank, but it was not something that Ghir'Was would ever take from someone. Especially him. Boyd was a warrior. He respected that.

He considers making himself more comfortable and relaxing, but he did not feel great about Boyd's response to Arrun's question. "Pour drinks, Ghir'Was will take look outside for Bonal Geldem. Will not be far." It would not hurt to look around, and it would benefit everyone here if Bonal Geldem arrived soon. So the shifter went to work putting his boots on, and then tightening the straps to his gear as he headed outside the door once more. A quick loop around the building, maybe find a place to get a better view and he would feel like he did something to fight against any "ill portent".
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Old Jan 26th, 2018, 07:30 AM
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Solomon SaltMost of Solomon's gear was steel - good steel, mind you, but still steel that responded to heavy rain with the ability to soak in every little particle of salt or acid that the rain had brought and allowed for it to work the steel in a way that was far from beneficial. So after having been rumbling curses like a steam roller through the streets of Sharn, he finally entered the Gargoyle - in due time - and immediately started taking off the gauntlets and his breastplate, squirming out of the long hauberk too. With the gear spread around, he looked around and noticed the half-empty bar room, save for those he was supposed to work with. He nodded to each of them, respecting the fact that they had arrived and at least could be trusted to that extend.

Ale. He grunted to the serving wench that suddenly seemed keen to work for her wages. Not that Solomon had anything to say or do in the matter, but it had been nagging him, since he stepped in the saloon, that the staff was idling about and looking at rain. Had he been the proprietor, he had made sure that their wages had been well earned. The tables could use a new waxing, the floor could use a thorough cleaning and there was a crack in the wall, two feet off the chimney that someone with masonry skills should have a look at sooner than later.

An idle soul is a seed for the devil - as they say.

Hrmph! the stern dwarf stated as Ghir'was exited again. There was little else to say in the matter, but Solomon found that if the wild man was a scout, this was his job. Instead he turned to Arrun, And you got the healing remedies, as we discussed? He asked it directly and less accusingly that anyone else would have received the question. While he asked, he produced a little bag from his bag and unfolded it beside his armor. There was all kind of stuff for maintaining gear and it was meticulously organized. Solomon dried, scrubbed and oiled his armor before he strapped it all back on. He ordered another ale midway in the process and first when he was thoroughly through the process, he allowed himself to sit with the others.

Gotta keep the rust from the steel. Less than beneficial. he explained, Damn rain.
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Old Jan 26th, 2018, 09:19 AM
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Kova
Quote:
Originally Posted by mad_gondsman View Post
"How about a round for you and your friends... on the house," he offers.
"Ghir'was, old chum!" Kova exclaimed, hurrying over with his suddenly empty wine glass. "Glad you could make it."

As he sipped casually at his newly poured wine, he listened to Arrun's exchange with Boyd and his brow furrowed. Academic sorts were creatures of habit, schedule, and routine, he had observed in his time at the University's School of Magic. As he watched Solomon unhook his armor for cleaning, he mused that rain had a way of driving men who wore metal from the street, but not men who wore cloaks over leather. Fewer guards, fewer witnesses, and the din of falling raindrops made an excellent environment for crime and Kova suddenly felt considerably more concerned about the Provost.

"Ghri'was, why don't I accompany you?" Kova offered, cinching his cloak up under his chin and muttering some arcane words has he gestured with one hand and crushed a coffee bean in the other. "Two sets of eyes are always better than one and I know the lanes around here fairly well." He then Use Arcane Bond to cast Heightened Awareness on Ghir'was; +2 Perception and all Knowledge for 10 minutes; can end spell for a +4 to any initiative rollpatted a faintly glowing hand onto the scout's back as they walked out the door and into the rain.

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Old Jan 26th, 2018, 10:35 PM
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A Loop Around...

Atop Kelsa Spire...Curtains of water fall from the sky as you step out of the Gray Gargoyle and back onto the labyrinthine walkways of Sharn. Here in the Upper City, the stone paths wind around and between the towers and spires, the areas beneath the the lattice-like bridgework disappearing into the darkness. Peering But not too close lest the winds throw you over...over the side, for a mile or more, you can see pinpoints of light trailing along the sides of the plateaus before they disappear into a void as dark as the night sky. The rain falls hard, running off higher walkways and balconies in drenching waves, making it difficult to see much more than a few feet ahead of you. Even the glow of the Magical lanterns lit every day by the magewrights of the Lamplighter's Guild...everbright lanterns, barely visible in the soaking gloom, does little to light the paths on this warm, wet evening.

At least in temperate Sharn, one never has to worry about freezing to death...

Suddenly, there is a flash of yellow light, followed by an ear-splitting crack! An after-image of the lightning strike, which apparently struck a nearby tower, lingers in the corner of your eye as you wonder if you made a mistake wandering out into a storm of this magnitude. A decently good cloak deflects most of the rain and you find that the puddles are nothing that a good set of boots won't protect against, but there's nothing to shield you from the lightning arcing across the clouds... which you happen to be eye-level with, at the moment.

In a hurry to complete a loop around Kelsa Spire before you find yourselves on the business end of the next lightning strike, you round the corner a scramble down the street, skirting along the awnings of a store front for protection from the wind and rain when you spot something peculiar. A bridge looms ahead, lined on either side by artfully crafted terraces in which low green shrubs and small trees have been planted to soften the hard edge of the city. The everbright lanterns cast a low yellow glow, dimmed by the driving rain...

Lightning flashes and you can see a shape on the stone-cobbled floor of the bridge in the brief illumination...


GMWhat are the odds that we can wrap this up before the others start to suspect something is going on?

Ruffdove, if you succeed at a DC 18 Spot check (already modified to take the rain into consideration), Kova may see what Ghir'was sees.
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Old Jan 27th, 2018, 09:53 AM
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KovaWincing from the lightning strike, Kova got his bearings and peered out from behind the hulking shape of Ghir'was toward the bridge. He sensed from the shifter's bearing that he saw the shape too. Initially content to stand back and let the soldier do the investigating, Kova's curiosity overcame him and he stepped out from behind his companion. Quickly the halfling spun and
Dice Perception:
1d20+10 (3)+10 Total = 13
checked the street behind them for signs of trouble before turning back and moving cautiously forward toward the form lying on the cobblestones.

Removing his dagger from its sheath and a lightning bug from a small vial in his components bag, Kova muttered an incantation that consumed the insect and Cast Light--good for 10 minutesimbued the weapon with a brilliant radiance to illuminate the scene in front of him. Before his eyes adjusted, to the light, he fleetingly wondered what became of the lightning bugs when he cast that spell. Given that they were harmless insects that brought only beauty into the world, he dearly hoped they were traded to some idyllic plane of light in exchange for the radiance. That thought gave him some comfort as the form on the ground came into well-lit focus.

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Old Jan 27th, 2018, 11:42 AM
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Arrun CorliostorArrun took a drink from his flagon as Boyd relayed some information about Bonal Geldem. Arrun had been around a few of the scholarly type when he was in training, and most of them didn’t have any real concept of time. They would be up at all hours, late for services, meals, always getting caught up in whatever they were studying. Arrun sighed in annoyance, an appointment was an obligation and he took his obligations seriously. This was not a good beginning to this endeavor.

Arrun smiled as he watched Solomon clean his armor, he had to respect a man who understood the importance of well-maintained equipment. Arrun felt the same, but he was also a man of ritual…routine. His armor and weapon maintenance were part of his bedtime ritual, talking some quiet time to work on his gear, focus on the steps and let everything else fade away for a while. He would not do it in the middle of a tavern, but he respected Solomon’s commitment.

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Originally Posted by Dressedtojazz View Post
Instead he turned to Arrun, And you got the healing remedies, as we discussed?
Arrun nodded with a wink, "Yes.." he said as he pulled a small, thick wooden wand from his pack. The wand had, engraved on it, a silver shield with a burning flame, similar to the symbol emblazoned on Arrun’s tunic. "I know a priestess at the Cathedral of the Cleansing Flame who was willing to imbue the wand with some healing power of the Silver Flame. Should be able to keep us standing while battling the evil hordes." Arrun smiled in satisfaction and slid the wand back into his pack. He tapped Solomon on the breastplate of his armor, "I do respect a man who cares about his armor." He then rubbed his chin, "These book worm types often lose track of time. You think he might be lost in a book?"

When Ghir’was and Kova decided to scout around the exterior of the building, Arrun agreed. Ghir’was looked to be skilled as a scout and a check of the perimeter was routine. Arrun returned his attention to the barkeep, "Excuse me, Boyd. Do you happen to know where Bonal Geldem’s residence is?"

While he waited for some information from Boyd, Arrun continued his plan with Solomon, "While Ghir’was and Kova check the exterior, I think I might head to Bonal’s place, see if he is there…maybe even check out the university." He shrugged his shoulders, "Since you just cleaned your armor, why don’t you stay here and wait for either Bonal or our companions to return. You can tell them where I went."

OOCArrun will either head out to where Bonal lives or, if Boyd didn’t know, he will backtrack from the Gray Gargoyle to the university to see if Bonal is still studying somewhere.
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  #44  
Old Jan 27th, 2018, 12:33 PM
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As Ghir'was and Kova venture out into the storm, two men arrive, skidding to a halt in the doorway as if coming to an abrupt halt from an impossibly fast sprint! They stop at the door to remove their cloaks, showing off their fancy, custom-tailored blue and gray uniforms with a coat of arms upon the sleeves depicting a unicorn... Many of the humans of House Orien bear the Mark of Passage which allows for fast movement, or in some cases, teleportation. Couriers such as these are typically hired to deliver valuable parcels throughout the city when time is of the essence.House Orien couriers. They nod in greeting to you and Boyd before snapping the wet out of their expensive-looking cloaks and leaving them to drip-dry by the door.

A few of the servers, their services unneeded this night, say their farewells to the other staff before donning their soon-to-be-soaked coats. One-by-one, they disappear into the street outside, the rains indistinguishable from the sounds of the howling wind and the water gushing off of the higher structures above.

"No, sirrah," Boyd calls out across the empty taproom to Arrun as he serves the Orien newcomers. "Can't say we're that close." Is he speaking of his relationship with the provost? Or his lack of a relationship with Arrun? Either way...

Before taking a seat, one of the Orien couriers smiles and hands a The Sharn Inquisitive, no doubt. It's a very popular zine within Breland.paper to Boyd, who stops in the center of the common room to take a look at the headline.

"What kind of garbage is this?!" he bellows to no one in particular, slapping the top of the paper with the back of his hand. "There's talk about abolishing the crown and giving all the power to parliament once King of BrelandBoranel retires!? I bet old The last ruler of the Kingdom of Galifar. Upon his death, his children started the Last War to decide who would rule in his stead.King Jarot is spinning in his grave..."

The door hangs open to the streets beyond, a strong breeze driven in by the pouring rain. At least the air is clean and the night is warm. Arrun may be soaked but at least he won't have to suffer the cold...

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Old Jan 27th, 2018, 09:10 PM
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Ky RavsenKy almost sighed as it seemed she should not have offered up coin so quickly when a free drink was in the offer, though she still managed to swig down her already poured ale in a manner which would have left Argrim proud. A second drink on hand now even as two of their little group seemed keen to head back out into the storm to look for their wayward guide. It was a troublesome conundrum, to go and search was almost futile, it would take luck to randomly find a man that none of them had ever seen, to sit here and do nothing though, ought someone to track down someone like Marta or something and indicate a missing individual? Worse, or better, or otherwise, dependent on how one looked at it, if their guide was missing, and it was not merely a lost or distracted reason, that meant that someone either sought to prevent the task at hand or to take it on themselves. Neither seemed like options Ky was interested in, though as she sat once more near the door, her hand wandered to her dagger as her fingers danced along the hilt.

Arrun's conversation with the cranky, utterly annoying dwarf seemed to paint the gruff dwarf in a better light and just as Ky tried to decide whether to interject any thoughts or otherwise, the tavern became just a little more crowded, which was not to say much with staff who had just left as well. Dark eyes watched the two as they made their entrance and seemed to offer up a bit of news which offended Boyd. He was not a bad man as far as military killers or whatever others might think of them, though his passion to do with anything which regarded king and crown was always enough to bring on a rant. A faint smile at his outrage as she took another sip of her free drink and allowed her gaze to wander and take in the pair once more. Couriers, were they at the end of a delivery, the beginning, to have arrived so fast, and to here..

Ky slunk down lower in her seat and brought her tankard to her lips, no sip this time though as she Perception: 15 (8+7)searched the pair for any sign of letters, packages, anything of interest. It was habit, possibly a bad one as she was not about to attempt to relieve them of any said packages, but old habits died hard in any situation.

"Do we even know what he looks like Arrun? How exactly do we find someone we don't know?" Her voice was soft as he prepared to head out, though made no move to stop nor join him. "If we all bother off searching, and he shows up late what then hmm? St...a Solomon and I will stay put just in case and hopefully not have to come find you three if he arrives. "You may not like him Ky, but calling him Stumpy would have been stupid... better slow up drinking the second.


 
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