Sunday, April 29, 2012

A quiet drink...

I expected Alina, Indis and Fin to get more "airtime" as it were, but the scene wouldn't write itself and it would have involves explaining what was going on AGAIN. So I skipped it. The scene may expand itself in the edit.
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It was several hours later when the group reconvened in a small pub. It was deserted as the merchants and nobles inside the city focused more on their problems than drowning their sorrows and with the majority of the people from the city on the outside, business was bad for the barman. They were all fairly exhausted, having battled with both the crowds and talked at length with representatives of their guilds and churchs.
"Mercs are gonna spare what they can for it - but they're stretched thin enough as it is, Greg - we may get about thirty men, tops and most of them are gonna be volunteers." Aylix said with a sigh, leaning back on his chair and cradling a tankard of mead. "They definitely knew when to plan this and when to carry it out."
"The scouts guild is much the same, but perhaps with even less numbers. Most of the guild is scouting the area around Mercia to see what the situation is up at the city, while others are scouting Netherthong to make sure that the town isn't in immediate danger of attack... From anything apart from the undead of course." Eliana sounded exasperated.
"I managed to find a few clansman willin' to put in the fight." Grundown added with a belch as he slammed down an empty tankard and picked up a full one straight away. "Yer'll never be short of decent Dwarves wantin' to kick the shite outta some abominations."
"We managed to speak to a High Priest of each of our churches and they are going to do what they can, add their voices to our plight and see if we can get some from the churches to join us. They may even be able to make the field themselves but.. Fromt he sounds of things the communion was just as exhausting. I envy High Mother Dulana-Carcer and Nenharma though - they travelled into Elysium itself and spoke with the Gods." Greg put forth.
Aylix let out a low whistle. "The things adventurers do, eh?" he murmered before adding. "I managed to have a word with the mages guild as well, I know... Knew a couple of contacts and - even though they're not around managed to let them know what's goin' on. I didn't mention your lass, I figured seein' as we didn't tell the Earl you probably wouldn't want the guild tellin'. Anyway - they're gonna send a couple of Necromancers and maybe a couple of others to help out."
"So, that's what - sixty-ish fighters with us for this?" Crow asked, sounding disappointed. Why is it always so hard to garner help for this kind of thing? Is the common man always so expectant on adventurers to sort it out for them?"
"The common man is often too scared to fight Crow. Adventurers are generally made of sterner stuff... others just haven't heard the call of adventuring yet." Addy said softly. They were sat slightly apart, something that all of them had noticed, but not commented on. They hadn't heard them quarrel, so were puzzled by their actions, but none of them felt it their place to question it.
The Kharachian opened his mouth as if to speak, but closed it again fairly quickly.
"So..." Aylix started to dispel any awkward silcences before they started, "Addy, any joy with the physicians?"
The Traldan shook her head. "Not so much, we may get a couple who practice with us but..." she sighed. "Mainly I just got given what supplies they could spare and everything bar a pat on the head and a shooing out of the door."
"It's not going to be enough." Gregory sighed. "I don't want to be leading all of these volunteers into a death trap where a massive force of Kryganites and undead battle it out. We need more men."
The awkward silence descended, despite best efforts to keep it away as they all frowned in contemplation.
A few minutes passed, before the hush was dispelled by a snapping of fingers. "High Father Aston." Eliana smiled eagerly.
"What? That bloody mutt? I'd rather fight it alongside an army of elves." Grundown complained, despite large answering grins from Gregory and Aylix.
"Lass, you're a genius. The werewolves would help us out if we asked 'em, we'd just have to make sure our own side don't mistake 'em for the enemy." Aylix said, slapping the table for emphasis.
"We have no way of contacting them though." Greg frowned, his smile quickly melting away.
"We'll throw a steak out, who cares. If we can find some way of contacting them we can hardly lose. We can head to the woods and try and find them now."
"Sorry... who are you talking about?" Addy asked, confused.
"High Father Aston, clan of the Claw or... similar. We found him on the way back from Mercia -" Gregory started.
"Aye, an' 'e found us after we'd been stabbed in the back by the manlin' lass. Bloody wolves..." Grundown started loudly only to be quieted with a glare fromt he Crowan.
"As I was saying, we met him on our way back and he said he would try and find what was going on. I'm surprised he hasn't come to us sooner."
"We've been in the town most of the day, Gregory - with the problems we had getting in, it's no wonder a werewolf would be denied entry." Eliana reasoned.
"So, we head out to find this group of Werewolves then?" Crow put forward. "We should head out now, before we lose much more of the light."
Assent trickled round the group, drinks were finished and packs were collected.
"Let's go and find us some giant mutts then I guess." Grundown grumbled.

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