"There were many lessons to be learned from Azor.  Even for one such as I.  The World is a better place with such creatures in it." Killian responded "Honor, I fear, is a thing that will be cast aside the farther we ride north, but in this place, at this time it shines true."

Neuken covers his mouth for some reason.

Orin was surprised when the giant didn't rage and crash about when the news of his wolves was inadvertently mentioned.  The response was entirely not in keeping with his understanding and experience with other giants, which only made him suspect an even deeper betrayal brewing.

"The sooner we're away from here the better," he grumped in his gravelly voice as he neared the far end of the bridge, well away from the towering warden.  "Giants are best left alone, especially ones who play at games of civility such as he."

On the other side of the bridge the dwarf took a gander at the path Jarder and Renia had found, and nodded.  "Sooner started, sooner finished," he pronounced, and made ready to continue down the trail once all were assembled.

"There was nothing inadvertent about my words, friend Orin.  I saw in the Giant a similar desire that my own Family values." said Killian.

"Mock as you will, mage, perhaps I have earned it for making a decision which was better left to the group.  But one must consider things beyond the immediate future:  If we somehow accomplish our mission we will need to return in this direction.  Leaving without telling him the truth would only hurt our chances later." the Elf spoke to the Human but did not look toward him.

Killian shrugged "After speaking to him I was very confident that my decision was a wise one.  However, in the future, I will defer to the group on such judgments."
This message was last edited by the player at 22:14, Mon 30 Dec 2019.

The forest quickly grows deep, the tall conifers blotting out much of the light from the overcast sky. Only the wind finds its way between their branches, occasionally issuing an unsettling moan as it presses through the wide, ancient trunks that line each side of the narrow, little used, trail.

Although the company is aware of the movement of small insects, buzzing past in flight or leaping amongst the thick blanket of pine needles, the wood as a whole is largely silent. None of the adventurers perceive any other evidence of life within it. No birds call, and no animals can be seen or heard moving amongst the foliage. It is largely still amidst the tall trees, the ancient forest content to leave its secrets untold.

After roughly two hours of travel, the trail reaches a clearing, the woodland thinning, yielding to an open moor, the marshy ground covered in spots by tall reeds and short clumps of grass. Here and there, gray boulders sit, keeping a timeless vigil, each one partially sunken into the soft earth.

Ahead, a village can be seen, surrounded by a tall wall, sturdily constructed from the trunks of pines. A gate, which stands open, leads into the settlement’s interior, flanked by a pair of brightly burning lanterns, hung from hooks on either side. A pair of soldiers, garbed in the colors of Denagoth, loiter near the entrance, each one holding an ebony hafted spear.

“A village of Denagoth,” Neuken says with a smile.  “How charming.  Still, it would be far more charming with a cloud of black smoke rising above it, accompanying the piteous screams of its inhabitants to the heavens above, desperately seeking the ears of whatever gods may be listening, only to encounter amused indifference.”

He abruptly turns his head towards his companions.

“Or, to put it more simply, I’d like ‘em better if they were on fire.”
This message was last edited by the player at 03:25, Wed 01 Jan 2020.

Greyband chuckles. "It would be a short-lived satisfaction once we were swarmed. Come on, we have a man to meet."

Patch pulled his ragged cloak tightly around himself, the multi-colored flaps of fabric seeming subdued somehow, bereft of a certain vibrancy they'd held when the strange old cleric was first encountered. This was a darker part of the world, and his cloak and mood seemed to reflect that somehow.

"Mercenaries, that's our story, right?"

Greyband nods. "That's the idea. Who's our spokesperson again?"

“Although I am reluctant to volunteer, I am well versed in the ways of evil and also possess a captivating personality.  But I would have no objections, were you to make an inferior choice.”

"I think it would be best if one of the Humans among us is spokesman. Greyband or Jarder would be my choices in the matter." offered Killian.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:41, Mon 06 Jan 2020.

Neuken smiles, but doesn’t say why.

The brim of the priest's tall, dilapidated hat, raised just enough for the old priest to look upon the wizard with a stern gaze. He seemed to consider something, his jaw made a chewing motion in response, the tips of a few whiskers in the corner of his mouth. After a moment he shrugged, apparently not coming to a satisfactory conclusion.

"We'll probably need to set the tone and flex a little muscle in order to match our story, but let's not burn the village down, just yet..."

Patch shifted aboard his huge porcine mount. "Ready." The colorful patches of his cloak seemed to have dimmed or faded, the blues turning to gray, the purples to black, and the reds... to crimson.

"I'm indifferent-either the wizard or one of the fighters would make the most sense as our 'leader'" he says with air quotes.  "Definitely isn't me..the fun sized underweight human scoundrel."

Greyband shakes his head. "Jarder, I disagree. You are the perfect man to speak for us. I am too blunt for this situation, and nobody would buy me as a mercenary leader. I feel you can pull it off. I nominate you."

“Sheer laziness motivates me to second the nomination.”

The party approaches the gate to Geron, a distant rumble of thunder sounding in the gray sky above. The damp ground sinks slightly beneath their tread as they move and as they draw close, one of the guards sights them, gesturing to his companion toward the band of adventurers. Above the wall, the company members can see several narrow streams of smoke rising in the air, doubtlessly the result of warm fires burning in hearths and stoves within the village. As they reach the entrance, each of the explorers can smell the faint scent of roasting meat emerging from the walled community.

Both guards set the blunt ends of their spears onto the ground. One of them, a scarred man with a long black beard, addresses the company. ”State your business,” he says gruffly.

Neuken inhales deeply, relishing the meaty smells.  Probably roasting the babies of their poor, he thinks with approval.

Laughing to himself and then shaking his head at the predicament that has allowed someone like him to be the party speaker.  Jarder moves into the village trying to display some level of confidence.  The others following behind....hopefully.

As the man with beard shouts out at them, Jarder looks forward and doesn't even make eye contact, but slaps his sword hilt as he says: "Our business is simply coin.  We have heard that their is opportunity for some coin, especially for those skilled with blade, axe and bow....."  Leaning down toward the guard from the height of his mount and in a stern voice; "...and great magic.  We wish to sell our services to the highest bidder, and I have heard that we have some high bidders near."

_____________________________________________________________________________________
OOC:  I think we have mounts.....

Based on the strength of Jarder’s performance, Neuken seriously considers getting back into the pimp game.

The guard looks over the gathered adventurers, wiping his nose with the back of a gauntleted hand.

”Well, the dragon let you lot through, so he must’ve been sure you weren’t troublemakers.”

He points through the open gates at the muddy road that travels through the center of the village. ”If it’s just local work you want, you should stop at the Beggar’s Roost Inn. Sits right at the crossroads in the center of town. There’s always someone there, looking to have a problem solved.”

“If you’re more interested in long term service, go to the Sheriff’s Office. Last building on the northern end of the road, right before you reach the spot where all the lancers have bivouacked. The office is serving as the military headquarters at the moment. Ask for Captain Benar. He, or his assistant Camla, should be able to help you.”

The guard nods to his fellow soldier and the pair move to either side of the gate, allowing the party entrance to Geron.

OOC: It has been a while, so as a reminder, Camla was identified by King Gylharen as the treacherous student of magic who had stolen the Elvenstar from Wendar and taken the magical stone north, to Denagoth.

Greyband nods and looks at Jarder, clearly following his lead for now.

Patch reached down and patted his mount, the enormous hog with whom he seemed to share a certain bond. The beast's large tusks were prominent and the bristle-like hairs stood like pikes up the front of his head and across his wide shoulders.

"If the Inn has hot food and a fire, then that'll do for me, boss." Patch said from beneath his wide-brimmed hat, remembering at the last moment to show some hint of respect toward Jarder as their leader.

Nodding to the guard he flips him a silver; "Don't spend it all in one place. Hot food and drink first, work second.  Too the inn." Spurring his horse forward he heads to the inn.

The elf tips hir hat to the guard respectfully as they pass by.