You have travelled for many days, as you have travelled the farms and towns have become less frequent and travellers few. The countryside has become craggy mountains and pine forests. At the far western edge of the kingdom lies Fourtower Bridge, the last mark of civilisation. The fortified bridge offers safe passage across the river for travellers of the Old King's Road.

The towers on the bridge are thirty feet high and made of rough stone. There is a copper pot on the bridge where travellers pay the toll of one silver piece for the crossing.

On near side of the bridge is the welcoming sight of The Moorland Magpie Inn. A cosy and welcoming two storey building. The innkeeper Lorna rents private rooms on the upper floor for one gold piece or travellers can sleep in the common room for one silver piece.

OOC Lady Chessintra and Eskaton, feel free to explore the town. More info available at:

link to a message in this game

https://r.rpol.net/gameinfo.php

http://wiki.rpol.net/75834

Eskaton arrived at Fourtower Bridge on foot.  The road had been dusty and long.  The man was wearing plate armor and had both a sword and dagger upon his hip, a shield slung across his back ... and a spear in hand that was currently being used as a walking staff.

Fortune.  Glory.  Renown.  These things and more awaited the fighter ... and he was ready to claim them.

He had a large frame and a slow gait.  This was accompanied by an easy going manner that belied an inner confidence — an unshakability — in his convictions.

The warrior made his way toward the Moorland Magpie Inn.

It has not be just days for young Chessintra but months for her journey away from the Elven nation was long and dangerous.  She wished to study and learn more about what she been told of the Humans and other races and if they were able to help her acquire more magic of different aspects.

Coming upon this new location she looked at it for a few minutes before moving further into it.  Pulling her hood over her head to help hide the fact that she was an Elf.

Once at the bridge she dropped a coin in the copper pot and continued onward till she saw the sign for an inn.

For more than a few minutes she walked around the town to get the layout of the area and if there was any other noticeable buildings or excites out of the place.  She didn't wish to be trapped her as she was in the palace.

Once she got her understanding of the place she made way to the inn.

She entered Moorland Magpie Inn and taking a moment to scan the area, once that was done she moved to the bar to see if she was able to order a meal and get a private room.

Taking notice of all that was already in the inn.

The payment of the toll on the bridge gained a nod from the large man with a black beard that kept an eye on such things. The surly fighter however did not smile or offer any greeting.

At the Moorland Magpie Inn the atmosphere was more welcoming and cosy. The Innkeeper Lorna was a friendly, middle-aged woman. Her husband Bren kept out of the way, spending most time in the stables.

Lorna charged Lady Chessintra one gold piece for a private room. She seated both Eskaton and Lady Chessintra down with equal care and offered them tonight’s fare which was fish cake with crowberry tart and a mug of perry, charging silver pennies and said she's happily keep the perry flowing.

Across the other side of the inn someone else had taken Lorna up on the offer and clearly drunk too much of the perry, the old hooded man laid half comatose but whenever Lorna tried to take his drink away he would awaken and mutter nonsenses until he was left alone again.

 A woman came to Fourtower Bridge in her search for for knowledge and magic.  She was a mage of some sort, dressed in robes of beige and grey.  Her hair was dark, skin pale, bearing confident if not smug at times.  While she had a "gut feeling" that this search might be just as much of a waste of time and lead to another fist-fight with pedantic prestidigitator and acerbic academics, there were a great many exciting rumors that suggested otherwise... that suggested that there was arcana to unearth!

 Dropping a copper piece into the pot, she nods at the guard and makes her way into the town proper.

 While the journey was fairly uneventful, she would need to find extra hands to help her out.  Where there was arcana to unearth, there was also magic and mayhem.  Hopefully, the hands she could find were somewhat brighter than the oafish halfling she once travelled with.  What was her name again, Brandywine?  Baranduin?  Brandli!  Yes... her.  Sweet woman, but as sensible as a god-hero from the Ancient Empires at times.

 Brilliance enters the Moorland Magpie Inn after a glance or two at local businesses.  Food and drink are ordered...

Chessintra moved to the location offered and with her suggestion of a meal she smiled with a nod.  Then she noticed that there was another being seated and offered the same meal.

Looking at the other person for a brief moment before the doors of the inn opened and a very pale looking female walked into the establishment.

It seemed that she arrived at the right time before everyone started entering and taking over all the seats and rooms.

The one that was drunk and wouldn't allow the innkeeper to take his drink was an interesting character.  One that she might want to speak with later, after he is sober.

The atmosphere in the Moorland Magpie was warm and friendly as Lorna bought out the meals of fish cakes to everyone and kept their mugs of perry filled up.

 Brilliance, quite possibly invading personal space... and privacy... steps in with Chessintra and Eskaton, chewing on a fish cake as she does.  "Well met..." She swallows, and gestures at any empty seats with the rest of the cake.  "Is this seat taken?"

 True to her nature, Brilliance seats herself at the nearest available seat after spotting such a thing.  To the elven woman, she says before halting a mouthful of her cake, "I am called 'Brilliance'.  True to the moniker, I am a seeker of knowledge, currently as a medium of a sort." Her expression thereafter suggests that she is searching the elf for a reaction of a sort... as if she were a wizard seeking a burglar for an adventure!

 Pfaugh!  Silly mageling.