(Arc 4-1) A normal day in the motherfuckin' neighborhood?

[Anastasia]

> So a day or two passes.  Nothing of note happens until you gather to meet Commander Oberuth - the three of you minus Lyselle. His mood is crested with a smile, waving for each of you to sit. "At ease. Cadet Armasea'll be a little late, she's attending another matter. Now then."
* Shamal sits down smoothly, waiting to hear what the commander has for them. It's been a while since their last mission, really...
> "Now that matters are settling down here, at least for the time being? We have a more mundane problem." The Commander puts a good smile on it, really, looking quite jovial. "Due to a lot of little things going wrong, we're critically short on manpower for essential functions today."
> "Each of you is overjoyed into silence, I see." The Commander goes on, red cheeks pushed higher as he smiles more.
<Shamal> "Simply waiting to hear exactly what essential functions we must carry out, sir," Shamal reassures him gently.
<Seira> "Any assignment you give us will be done to the utmost of our abilities, Sir!" Seira responds.
* Berlioz yawns, covering his mouth with the back of his palm. "We are here to serve, yes."
> "What discipline." The Commander's smile lessens slightly, "You can choose - town gate dut or city patrols."
<Seira> "I trust you to place me where I can be most effective, Sir," Seira responds deferently, passing on the choice to him.
<Shamal> "Rin and I would probably be more useful at the gate," Shamal volunteers easily.
<Shamal> "Sir," she appends after a small but noticable pause.
> "At ease is fine," Oberuth waves his hand lightly, "Cadet Finley already has the idea." A look to him, not entirely amused. "Now then, the gate it is. Report in a half hour, Cadet Armasea'll meet you there."
* Seira throws a quick sideways glance at Berlioz, before returning her eyes to the Commander.
* Berlioz blankly glances at the commander, and acedes. "For balance's sake, I'll stay with the city patrol."
* Shamal stands up and offers a good impression of a salute. "Thank you sir, I'll be off, then." She nods to her other two co-workers and departs.
> "Go ahead and dedicate yourselves to one. I'll assign others to the patrol, then," The commander says to Berlioz, nodding once.
> The guard station at front is a place that's often considered boring. Indeed, past the gates are weathered roads to look at and dry ground, neither of which hold anything interesting by themselves. Now the people that come through, now...that's another story. But for now the three heroes gather, Lyselle still delayed. (More)
> The three make four another way. A bored young guard with rakish brown hair leans on his guard's spear, chainmail hanging heavy on his sleepy form. He sniffles a few times, sounding lovely. But as the three get into position, he blinks and even smiles a bit. "Um..hi? Are YOU the ones coming to do guard duty since everything's short?"
* Berlioz crosses his arms, calmly staring at the guard. "I'd assume so, since we were assigned to do such. You expected something else?"
<Shamal> "We haven't done gate duty for a while, now," Shamal reminds Berlioz, before nodding to the young guard. "Yes, we're covering this post for today. Anything exciting happen, so far?"
> "I just didn't expect...jeez, I keep running into you guys." He perks up, sniffling again and rubbing his nose against his leather gloves. "Between this stupid illness going around and those people granted leave...bleh. Not at all. Only a single iron trader so far."
* Berlioz raises an eyebrow. "Illness?"
> "A cold." THe guard sniffles again, "I can barely breathe and I'm only on duty since there's no one better."
* Berlioz nods awkwardly. "I... see. That's unfortunate."
* Shamal gives the young man a sympathetic smile, "Well, we're here to relieve you now, so you can go get some rest," she reassures him.
> "Oh no, I just got started." There's a sour sniffle there, "I'm supposed to stay here anyway. It just beats doing it al..al...ACHOOO!" As the young man sneezes, you can begint o see the dust on the roads being kicked up on the horizon.
<Shamal> "Here, if you give me a moment I might be able to do something for your nose at least, Biggs," Shamal offers, producing her healer's kit and setting to grinding a few herbs together into some sort of all natural home remedy.
* Seira merely stays clear of the sick soldier, observing the horizon.
> OOC - Going for a heal check, Shamal?
<Shamal> roll 1d20+10
* Hatbot --> "Shamal rolls 1d20+10 and gets 14." [1d20=4]
> The herbs are administered, the guard sniffling. "Thanks..." he says, "Here's hoping." As you give those to him, you notice that you can see the approaching persons. One person on a white charger horse, head held high. His features are strong and noble, a rapier hanging from his belt. He looks up at the sun balefully, pushing a wide brimmed hat down to shield his face.
<Shamal> "Nature will provide," Shamal smiles to Biggs, before moving to stand by the gate, Rin sitting by her side and wagging her tail playfully as they wait for the visitors to draw near.
> He looks on at the guards, squinting over the brightness of the morning light. "Well?" he asks, sounding impatient.
* Berlioz looks up. "Yes?"
* Shamal smoothly steps in front of Berlioz. "Welcome to Balmuria," she quickly intercedes before things become even more awkward. "As is custom, you'll have to answer a few questions before we allow entrance to the city. Is this agreeable?"
> "Yes, yes." He waves his hand, voice irritated. He sounds rich voiced, but pained. "This damnable sun is intolerable. Hurry."
* Shamal nods. "First of all, are any members of your group practicing spellcasters, and are you carring any magical items, or have you been approached and asked to carry magical items by persons not travelling in your group?" she asks in her best officious voice.
> "No, yes and no." Squinting in the sun, "If you really must know, I believe my weapon is magical. Family heirloom."
<Shamal> "Thank you," Shamal smiles primly. "Is your weapon enchanted with any of the following spells..." and she then proceeds to recite off a long list of spells, focusing mainly on area effect damaging ones and a few nastier necromantic ones.
<Seira> roll 1d20
* Hatbot --> "Seira rolls 1d20 and gets 15." [1d20=15]
<Seira> As Shamal questions the man, Seira takes the time to unobtrusively place a spell of magical perception upon her.
<Seira> roll 1d20+5
* Hatbot --> "Seira rolls 1d20+5 and gets 24." [1d20=19]
> "No, no, no, no, no ...oh by the Gods, no." Glaring now with sharp green eyes mostly obscured by the hat's shade, "Are you done yet?"
<Shamal> "Please, sir," Shamal stares down the man as best she can while he's on horseback and she's not. "These rules are for your safety. Now, we're almost done - please can you tell me if you are carrying any of the following substances which are banned under the laws of the United Baronies," and proceeds to list of yet another long series of plants and alchemical concoctions, while Rin wanders around the horses, sniffing for said contraband.
> "No, no, no." He sounds bored now, glancing around at the guards. He sniffs at Berlioz, haughtily turning away.
* Shamal nods, before pointing to the bag that Rin is currently staring at. "Sir, may I ask that we inspect that bag, please?"
> To this the noble smiles a little, reaching over and opening it. PHEW! Somethingsmells strong - sorta good,b ut very strong in there. Garlic?
<Shamal> "Garlic?" Shamal raises an eyebrow. That's one of the oldest tricks, masking your contraband with something innocent but smelly... Repressing a sigh, the druid searches the bag for anything more interesting.
<Shamal> roll 1d20+3
* Hatbot --> "Shamal rolls 1d20+3 and gets 19." [1d20=16]
> It's a bag of garlic. It smells strong enough to  kill a cat! But it's only garlic as far as you can find. "I've developed a taste for the stuff lately, before you ask."
<Shamal> "It can be nice, in moderation," Shamal smiles, closing the bag up. "Enjoy your stay in Balmuria, sir," she waves him through the gate, offering directions to a few of the nicer inns.
> "Yes," he says, sneering a little as he hurries on, pulling the brim of his hat down. So he goes quickly, another time of solitude at the gate.
* Shamal settles in, leaning on her quarterstaff as she waits for something else to happen, Rin remaining loyally by her side.
> "Oh...that smelled horrible!" Biggs gripes, sniffling clear. But he stops at that, "...my nose is clear now? Finally1"
> But just as Biggs speaks, you can see another coming. Looks like a lot of horses this time.
<Shamal> "Told you," Shamal smirks at the young guardsman, before perking up at the approaching horses. "Busy, busy..."
* Berlioz sighs and lays back a bit. "This should prove mighty interesting, you know."
<Shamal> "You think so?" Shamal asks in surprise.
> You can see several coming - looks like a trade caravan, guards, a few rich merchants, and lots of pack animals in the middle. Looks Malmuthian, wearing blue and making excellent time.
* Seira doesn't speak, concentrating on the caravan headed their way instead.
* Shamal steps forward to greet the caravan leader. "Welcome to Balmuria. Before entrance to the city, we must ask you a few questions, is this agreeable?" she asks smoothly.
> The leader is a middle aged man, silver hair parted straight down his head. He's long and horsefaced, nose tiny. "Yes. Go on, I've heard it a hundred times."
* Shamal smiles, glad to have someone that knows the drill. "First of all, what goods are you carrying?" she asks, gesturing Rin forward to begin her olfactory inspection.
> "Gold bullion and fine glassworks for trade." The leader yawns once at this, "To trade for iron and timber."
* Shamal nods and goes on with her spiel about magical goods and contraband, pretty much going through the motions herself unless she gets a wrong answer.
* Seira makes sure her ears are covered, and approaches the caravan herself. "I'll inspect here," she tells Shamal, picking a pack animal at random.
> As Shamal lectures, Seira opens a pack. In the sunlight she finds wrapped gold bars, a few catching a bit of light in gaps in the cloth, glittering golden.
* Shamal nods to Seira, not even skipping a beat between "Barellian Dream Pollen" and "Devil Fever Dust" on her long list of controlled substances.
<Seira> Not satisfied with what's on the surface, Seira methodically inspect the bag until she goes through it all, taking a moment to ensure that there are no false bottoms sewn into it.
> You notice that the merchant casts a glance back as you do. OOC - Search check.
<Seira> OOC: I'm taking my time and everything, can't I take 20?
> OOC: Okay.
<Seira> OOC: 26!
> After a few minutes of searching, you notice that the pack's bottom is heavy and not as deep as it should be.
> The merchant is nodding absently to Shamal, lookin gat Seira as she searches. "Are you done yet?"
<Seira> "No," she tells him bluntly. "You are under suspicion for carrying contraband. Any attempt to impede our investigation will be punished harshly and swiftly." She smoothly draws her bow and an arrow, aiming it at the ground next to the man's feet. "Cooperate, and make no threatening moves. If you are innocent, you shall be allowed to carry on."
> As you search, Rin comes to that bag and starts barking. Loudly.
* Seira raises an eyebrow, and gestures at their tagalong guard. "Inspect the other bags," she tells him.
> Biggs rises and does so, as you can feel the tension rise. The guards perk up, weapons just happening to be hand held. The merchant narrows his eyes, looking about.
<Shamal> Shamal's expression hardens. "I hope you are aware that the penalty for smuggling in the United Baronies is incarcaration for an unlimited term, and death in the most severe circumstances," she informs the caravan master. "Please line up alongside the wall," she uses her quarterstaff to gesture the caravaners to the city wall beside the gate.
<Shamal> is up to incarcaration*
* Seira withdraws one of her daggers, and carefully discards the bag's contents on the ground before making shallow cuts into the bag's lining, trying not to damage whatever may lay beneath it.
> "Down." The leader shakes his head, going to the wall. "I'll straighten this out with your Commanding Officers once you're done searching." Meanwhile, the wrapped bars of gold plunk on the ground, and inside the hidden pocket is...It's hard and dark colored, nearly black. It glistens, a chunk of metal.
> The guards follow to the wall, following intsructions without comment.
<Shamal> "Berlioz, please see to searching them, will you?" Shamal asks the bard, before going to inspect what Seira's found.
> The metal smells pungent, earthy. It's not a bad smell, but it smells noticiably strong now that's it's exposed to the air.
* Berlioz nods, going to check the contents of one of the still unchecked merchants. "Sure."
* Seira examines the metal with professional curiosity.
* Lyselle finds her way to the involved situation at the gates, raising an eyebrow as the smiling blonde brainer of goblins encounters a less than smile-worthy situation. "I see I arrived just in time...?" she hazards, looking between her comrades.
---FLASHBACK WIGGY SCREEN GO!---
> Aaah, called to duty. The air just past down is crisp as can be, not a hint of anything but the sea in it. So Lyselle heads to the meeting room, down a long hall. But as she does, "Cadet ARMASEA!" A booming voice calls from behind her, attention getting.
* Lyselle turns quickly, rather sharply in fact to face that voice, her muscles almost automatically pulling her ramrod straight. Who in the blazes would be screaming her name like that...?
> He grins ear to ear, his blue mantle ruffling behind him. Khardon walks with his hands in his pockets, making swift, silent time down the hall. "Morning," he says, quite conversational.
<Lyselle> "Morning, sir," Lyselle greets in descending tones of slowly relieving tension as she goes from perfectly square to relaxed. Her eyes slowly retreat from dilation, and the pounding of anxiety settles. At least she isn't in trouble?
> He stops just in front of you, then starts walking the other way. "Come on. I owe you a chat about your parents, and it looks like you're going to be in town for awhile now."
<Lyselle> An eyebrow shoots up, blonde and curious as she trots after the strange and never known man that seems to know way too much about her. "Alright..." she agrees quietly, following hi quietly, then adding, "Thanks."
> "It's the least I can do for you." He says, "Don't worry, I told the Bear I'd probably grab you en route today, and despoit you with the others a little late."
<Lyselle> Lyselle does smile a bit, easing off the formalit of being in the presence of someone she should probably call 'lord' or 'sir' if she was to stick closely to etiquette. "It's not something I've given a whole lot of thought."
> "Well. You had a decent family who did the best they could in bad circumstances. There's very little better praise to give someone." Khardon is casual as you head out a side door, into the sunny mornings
<Lyselle> Lyselle ducks her head, smiling and collecting herself eyes flickering around to the morning scenery, then back toher superior. "Mmmhm," she agrees, trying to consider what she really does know. "Father was always lost in something. Those were...busy times, so yes, everyone managed what they could."
> "Yes.  Your father, though..." Khardon smiles, "How much do you remember?"
<Lyselle> "Nearly nothing," Lyselle admits, shaking her head. "I wasn't allowed outside of Castle Armasea until after the war with Pilltain, dad wasn't at home much, and when I did get to roam, he was gone," she offers, clasping her hands behind her back, looking upwards. "I sort of remember him and mom, happy, but after that..."
> "After that, yes." Khardon sighs wistfully, as you  head through the sideways of the garrison. Very quiet here, morning trainings carrying on the wind. "They were happy while it lasted."
* Lyselle nods a little, an easier smile while they just walk, trying not to wince at some of the trainees. She'd been like that once. "Then...well, what happened happened," she nods,pushing back her pale blonde hair.
> "Yes. The past is the past. ...do you want to hear about the details, or..." Khardon stops at this, smiling sadly.
<Lyselle> "Honestly?" Lyselle asks, almost laughing. "Not particularly. Maybe when I have Armasea and an heir, but...this time of my life is mine, I left my parents in their graves, they're probably happier, and I don't doubt that I am.I don't doubt that they're watching, but I think they'd agree with needing to find who I will be for Armasea before I take my people in hand again."
> "Well then, let us go," Khardon smiles indulgently, picking up his pace. "A slow alk, but the Bear said you'd either be doing patrols or gate guarding work today."
* Lyselle winces slightly, nodding as she walks with Khardon, and only giving a slight sigh. "Gate guarding...the joys of joys..."
> "You'll look back and miss it one day. Maybe." With a chuckle Khardon increases his pace, leading yo uonward.
* Lyselle matches Khardon's pace, hardly looking forward to standing around and watching merchants pass by. "Everything is always better elsewhere."
> "Indeed..." ANd so the walk goes on, as Lyselle soon heads to the city gates. OOC- Go ahead and intro yourself in #dunes.
---FLASHBACK WIGGLY SCREEN END---
<Seira> "Conspiracy to commit fraud," Seira muses. "I'm afraid we must place you under arrest," she tells the caravan leader.
> "What is that stuff?" Biggs peers over, blowing back his bangs. "It smells like a musty rock."
* Seira picks up the suspected adamantine and wraps it back up.
> "I'd recommend you being careful..." The merchant says tightly, hints of red on his face as he faces the wall.
<Shamal> "Adamantine," Shamal tells Biggs. "Very rare and expensive. The import duty is quite high. Though perhaps cheaper than a prison term," she looks meaningfully towards the merchant.
> "...wow. Sea elves and now stuff like this? You guys are lucky." Biggs whistles, nodding, "I'll go get the city guard to help...erm, by your leaves, sirs?"
<Seira> "He may get off with a hefty fine," Seira voices. "It was not a forbidden substance, at least."
* Lyselle stands aside and keeps an eye on the suspects, picking up the situation as it runs, and seeing no particular uses for her skills just yet.
> The suspects aren't doing much, just not putting up any sort of fight.
<Shamal> "Of course, see to it, Biggs," Shamal nods, dismissing the younger man. "There is that," she agrees with Seira, "But sentencing is not ours to pass."
* Seira is happy to keep them company until the guard shows up.
> Soon guards come, cargo and merchant caravan escorted off. This takes the better part ofa n hour, duty done at last. Once they're gone, "...wow. That really is something," he marvels. "I've only seen that stuff once before, and the traveller was open about it. I think the dutyo n it is...geez, over a 100 gold if I remember right."
<Shamal> "That's a fraction compared to what it sells for," Shamal informs Biggs. "It's probably the hardest naturally occuring substance in existence."
<Seira> "It's overrated," Seira voices, frowning slightly. "Mithral is far more useful."
> "I could retire with af ew pounds of either..." Biggs sighs wistfully.
* Berlioz sighs. "We all could, probably. That's not really the point."
<Shamal> "Personally I distaste using any sort of worked metal. Not when there's so much offered by nature," Shamal smiles distantly, leaning on her quarterstaff as they settle down from the previous excitement.
* Lyselle just shakes her head, leaning against the wall. "It's hard to find wood as workable as a lot of metals...well, and that'll keep an edge," she murmurs, shrugging.
* Berlioz nods. "Necessity is the mother of inventions. I don't think we could've gone far, as a civilization, with pointy wood swords. That satisfies children, but not ambitious men."
> Biggs just shrugs a bit, as the time passes. "Hey, I kicked butt all over with my wooden sword as a kid," he gripes, looking offput. "Erm, sir."
<Shamal> "Yes, I suppose it doesn't fit so well with civilisation," Shamal admits. "Magic can make the difference, but I can only do that for brief periods and on a small scale, while a blacksmith can make hundreds of swords."
> Meanwhile, you can notice someone coming towards town at a gallop. A single horse, a rider kicking up tons of dust as he hurries.
* Berlioz grins amusedly. "Sure you did, I wouldn't doubt that. I've seen the kinds of bruises my brothers could suffer with lousy wood sticks with pointy shapes. It's just a whole new league when you grow up, that's all."
* Seira watches the rider, ready to draw her bow if he does not show signs of slowing down as he approaches.
> roll 1d20+3
* Hatbot --> "Kotono rolls 1d20+3 and gets 21." [1d20=18]
> The rider does eventually slow, ending his gallop just in front of you. He's a young man, just a few years out of adolescence. His face is scarred and lean, a greatsword of gleaming silver slung over his back. "Hurry," he says impatiently, "What customs do I have to go through?"
> He wears a breastplate like he's worn it for a long time, not encumbered at all. His brown horse is lathered and tired, yet steadfast.
<Seira> "What is the purpose of your visit, Sir?" Seira asks the rider, stepping forward.
> "Personal travel," he repeats the moment Seira is finished.
<Shamal> As Seira takes the lead, Shamal gestures Rin forward to do her sniffing while she openly casts Detect Magic.
<Seira> "Do you have in your possession any magical items, or various herbs and other blacklisted substances?" she continues, listing the more prominent to give him a general idea.
> There's nothing on him that's magical. "No." He says this quite quickly. His eyes are narrow and blue, sweeping briefly over each of you, then to the city ahead.
* Seira glances back at Shamal.
* Lyselle just smiles a little at the hurriedness of the man, standing back and waiting.
* Shamal makes no move to interfere with Seira's questioning or inspect the rider, having seen nothing to demand her attention. At the half-elf's glance she smiles and shakes her head.
<Seira> "Please follow the Guard's instructions at all times while within city limits, and have a pleasant visit, Sir," Seira tells the man without preamble.
> Without any other words he takes off at a gallop, charging into the city! Dust is kicked up all around you, Biggs going into a coughing fit.
* Berlioz leans against the wall as the man leaves, dusting off his clothes (this time, as an actual necessity!) and sighs. "This has been a busy day."
> OOC - Spot checks.
<Seira> "It appears quite tame for a trading center, so far," Seira responds with a light shrug.
<Seira> roll 1d20+3
* Hatbot --> "Seira rolls 1d20+3 and gets 4." [1d20=1]
<Seira> roll 1d20+3 reroll  -_-
<Shamal> roll 1d20+8
* Hatbot --> "Seira rolls 1d20+3 reroll -_- and gets 14." [1d20=11]
* Hatbot --> "Shamal rolls 1d20+8 and gets 23." [1d20=15]
<Lyselle> roll 1d20+1
* Hatbot --> "Lyselle rolls 1d20+1 and gets 18." [1d20=17]
<Berlioz> roll 1d20+1
* Hatbot --> "Berlioz rolls 1d20+1 and gets 20." [1d20=19]
> Everyone notes that just past the gates a small bag falls from the traveler's horse. You catch a glimpse of something metallic in the small bag as it flaps around, before closing on htiting the ground.
> roll 1d20+1
* Berlioz rushes to the bag, grabbing it. "Hey..."
* Hatbot --> "Kotono rolls 1d20+1 and gets 5." [1d20=4]
<Shamal> "Excuse me, sir!" Shamal calls loudly after the man, being beaten by Berlioz to collecting his bag.
> He's already gone, charging down the street as people often ducka nd quickly move out ofthe way. He's making a bit of a commotion, but most of it is already gone.
* Berlioz shouts. "Hey, mister... wow."
<Seira> "Is it contraband?" Seira asks Berlioz.
* Berlioz raises an eyebrow. "I'll have to check", he muses while opening the bag for appraisal.
> Inside is a small silver rod with a sharpened end, as well as a small silver disk of the sun.
* Berlioz raises an eyebrow. "Wow, this is... interesting."
<Shamal> "Regardless, we should give it back to him. Come here, Rin," she gestures her dog forward, "Even if he's out of sight, Rin should be able to get his scent... looks like a holy symbol," she notes offhandedly, extending her hand to Berlioz.
* Berlioz hands it over to Shamal, scoffing a bit. "Are you sure you're not even curious to know what does this artifact do?"
<Shamal> roll 1d20+3
* Hatbot --> "Shamal rolls 1d20+3 and gets 10." [1d20=7]
<Seira> "We should entrust it to the Guard," Seira suggests. "The lost and found section would handle this."
<Shamal> "Oh, it'll only take me a minute," the blonde insists easily.
* Berlioz shrugs light-heartedly. "Well, it's okay. Maybe my curiosity just gets the best of me sometimes. Anyway, do with it as you see fit."
<Shamal> "It's a holy symbol of Lathander," she tells Berlioz. "He's probably a priest. Anyway, I'll be back shortly," she tells them, presenting the bag to Rin before they head off after the scent.
> OOC - #evil, Shamal, Rin and if anyone wants to follow the blonde hurrican.e
* Seira remains at her assigned post!
* Berlioz ponders. "Hmmm... Shamal. Mind if I go along?"
<Shamal> "If you like," Shamal nods. "We should hurry, though - don't want to be away from the gate too long."
* Berlioz nods and scurries alongside Shamal. "Certainly."

[Anastasia]

---Shamal and Berlioz path---

> It's not really a hard path to follow. He has made it down several blocks, but Rin's path ends at a dead end. Down in this little cul de sac is a comfy looking inn, Rin sniffing around the outer premises. Around it are a few narrow alleys, a butcher's shop besides it.
> The horse of the rider has been left at the front of the inn, alone.
* Shamal promptly heads right into the inn, looking around for the man she just saw at the gate.
* Berlioz follows Shamal in a more leisurely pace than hers.
> Inside is a single desk, then halls going back leading to rooms. A red faced, bewildered woman is here, looking at a stairway that goes up. She doesn't seem to notice you at first, surprised.
<Shamal> "Excuse me, did a man just come in here?" Shamal asks the woman without preamble, proceeding to describe him.
* Berlioz coughs. "You look as if you just saw a hurricane, lady."
> "Y-yes! A strange man with a big sword!" Gesturing to the stairs, "He ran upstairs looking for somebody."
* Shamal nods, "Thank you," she smiles, before hurrying upstairs herself, telling Rin to stay downstairs. Most people don't like dogs traipsing around their inns.
* Berlioz waves to the lady as he runs upstairs. "Thank you, mistress!"
> "Um...that dog..." she tries as the two run upstairs! The second floor is a long hallway without anything seen, a window at the far end letting in sunlight. While you don't see anyone of note here, you see a man with a wide brimmed hat looking out, standing in the sunlight. His back is to you. There are stairs coming up to a third floor as well.
<Shamal> "She's trained!" Shamal reassures the woman in passing, before calling over to the man in the hat, "Excuse me, did you see a man just pass by?" she asks, giving the same description as before.
> He turns, blinking. "You again?" He raises a blonde eyebrow over sharp green eyes. He's still tall, even not on a horse, but the man you saw a few hours ago is here. "Yes, he ran upstairs."
<Shamal> "He dropped something on his way in," she explains with a smile, before heading onwards up the stairs!
* Berlioz nods. "This has been a day for coincidences. My apologies!", as the bard zips along with Shamal.
> To the third floor you go! There's no window on this floor, just a long hall! AT the end a door is wide open, a snarl carrying!
* Berlioz stops for a moment. "Well, we've probably reached the land's end."
* Shamal frowns slightly at the noise, pursing her lips and issuing a soft whistle to summon Rin as she advances towards the open door, a bit more cautious, now. "That doesn't sound friendly," she notes to Berlioz.
> You hear a crash inside!
> Meanwhile, you are quickly joined by Rin.
* Shamal steps into the room to see what's what!
* Berlioz backs off a little and lets Shamal take the front. What the...
> Inside, a desk has been split into two! The rash young man is there, sword at the ground as he sighs in frusturation. "Dammit! There's no way he's that fast!"
<Shamal> "Ah... who's that fast?" Shamal asks, a bit hesitant at first but swiftly drawing upon her officious demeanour as an agent of the law.
> He tursn quickly, greatsword wretched up with both hands! "...you?" He stops cold, a moment of shock dispelling a look of feral anger no his face.
* Berlioz scratches his head. "Well... sir, you dropped a small pouch as you scurried off. We're here to return it."
<Shamal> "Yes, you dropped your holy symbol at the gate," Shamal holds up the bag. "Now, would you kindly explain why you are destroying this inn's property?"
> "Oh..." He goes from angry to abashed, bowing his head. "I'm sorry, I lost my temper." Meekly sighing, "It doesn't matter now anyway, I was too late."
<Berlioz> "Although it's better splitting random desks in half than splitting random people. I wouldn't want to be in that desk's place myself. What could earn such swift and boundless wrath?"
> "The bastar....no. It's best you don't nkow, this has nothing to do with some city guards. If there is a fine or restitution, I'll gladly pay it." OOC - Hearing checks.
<Berlioz> roll 1d20+1
* Hatbot --> "Berlioz rolls 1d20+1 and gets 20." [1d20=19]
<Shamal> roll 1d20+8
* Hatbot --> "Shamal rolls 1d20+8 and gets 18." [1d20=10]
> You can hear a lot of squeaking noises from the hall.
<Shamal> roll 1d20+5 Rin
* Hatbot --> "Shamal rolls 1d20+5 Rin and gets 10." [1d20=5]
* Shamal frowns a bit and leans back, glancing out in the direction of the noises.
* Berlioz turns back, frowning. "What is that hellish racket?"
> Oh my. Coming down the hall is a pack of rats! Rodents?! Literally an entire pack, long nasty teeth showing as they're rushing towards your room? What in the name fo the Gods?
> OOC - React/initiative.
> "What?" The young man turns, puzzlement over his face as the others turn.
<Berlioz> roll 1d20+1 for initiative
* Hatbot --> "Berlioz rolls 1d20+1 for initiative and gets 21." [1d20=20]
<Shamal> roll 1d20+2 Shamal
* Hatbot --> "Shamal rolls 1d20+2 Shamal and gets 7." [1d20=5]
<Shamal> roll 1d20+3 Rin
* Hatbot --> "Shamal rolls 1d20+3 Rin and gets 14." [1d20=11]
> roll 1d20+1 man
* Hatbot --> "Kotono rolls 1d20+1 man and gets 10." [1d20=9]
> roll 1d20+2 rodents
* Hatbot --> "Kotono rolls 1d20+2 rodents and gets 21." [1d20=19]
* Retrieving #evildunes modes...
> OOC - Go, Berlioz.
* Berlioz coughs, and begins entonating a heroic tale. "Once upon a distant time, in the blessed lands of Balmuria, lived a courageous and kind lady with flowing blonde hair. She had a gift. The blessing to understand..."
<Berlioz> OOC - Inspire Competence, if it's not clear (which is probably not. <_<)
> As Berlioz performs, Shamal feels confidence flow into her! Butthe rats are coming, all intothe room! It's an infestation, all around! OOC - Rin is up.
<Shamal> Rin looks fairly alarmed, but refrains from any offensive action without being instructed by her mistress.
> Rats are all over! Around you, around Rin, around the man, around Berlioz! Rats everywhere, crawling over floor and furniture! The man lets out a cry, "Damnations! It was a trap!" With a swear he withdraws his blae, a great slice downward!
> roll 1d20+9
* Hatbot --> "Kotono rolls 1d20+9 and gets 27." [1d20=18]
> roll 2d6+4
* Hatbot --> "Kotono rolls 2d6+4 and gets 8." [2d6=1, 3]
> With a straight swipe two rats are cut in half! With a kick a third is crushed, the man going on rat killing duty! OOC - Shamal.
<Shamal> "They're only rats!" Shamal protests at the sudden display of violence, kneeling down a bit and scattering some breadcrumbs as she makes tutting noises with her lips, trying to soothe the swarm with a combination of food, body language, and vocalisation. For all that the bloodshed probably has them too riled up.
<Shamal> roll 1d20+6 friend of animals
* Hatbot --> "Shamal rolls 1d20+6 friend of animals and gets 25." [1d20=19]
> To your surprise, for a moment the rats stop. Hesitate. The squeaking slows, a few looking to you. But their eyes - they have blood red eyes, empty and chilling.
> OOC - Goa head and react, Shamal.
<Shamal> "I believe they have been enspelled," Shamal murmurs, not raising her voice above a soothing lull as she tries to maintain her tenuous grasp over the animals. "Just what are you involved in, sir?" she asks the mysterious man.
> OOC - check again. You can also talk if you want, Berli.
> "...Exterminating heresies like this," he spits, but stills his blade for the moemnt.
<Berlioz> "We might want to hold off for now. Shamal is unusually good at dealing with animals", Berlioz murmurs to the man.
<Shamal> roll 1d20+6 please be nice little rodents
* Hatbot --> "Shamal rolls 1d20+6 please be nice little rodents and gets 7." [1d20=1]
> The rodents twitch, suddenly coming to life! They lunge and bite, twist and tear! OOC - They deal damage between rounds, to whomever is in the swarm's range. So basically all three of you. Rough luck, S-chan.
> roll 1d6
* Hatbot --> "Kotono rolls 1d6 and gets 5." [1d6=5]
> OOC - Fort saves.
<Berlioz> roll 1d20+2
* Hatbot --> "Berlioz rolls 1d20+2 and gets 4." [1d20=2]
<Shamal> roll 1d20+6 Shamal
* Hatbot --> "Shamal rolls 1d20+6 Shamal and gets 21." [1d20=15]
<Shamal> roll 1d20+6 Rin
* Hatbot --> "Shamal rolls 1d20+6 Rin and gets 10." [1d20=4]
> roll 1d20 man
* Hatbot --> "Kotono rolls 1d20 man and gets 16." [1d20=16]
> roll 1d3
* Hatbot --> "Kotono rolls 1d3 and gets 3." [1d3=3]
> roll 1d3
* Hatbot --> "Kotono rolls 1d3 and gets 3." [1d3=3]
> The bites and tears are all ove ryour bodies, rodent swarm gnawing, chewing and nibbling with dirty teeth! OOC - Berlioz.
> OOC - Also, hearing checks, all.
<Berlioz> roll 1d20+1
* Hatbot --> "Berlioz rolls 1d20+1 and gets 19." [1d20=18]
<Shamal> roll 1d20+8 Shamal
* Hatbot --> "Shamal rolls 1d20+8 Shamal and gets 12." [1d20=4]
<Shamal> roll 1d20+5 Rin
* Hatbot --> "Shamal rolls 1d20+5 Rin and gets 16." [1d20=11]
* Berlioz frowns, listening to an obnoxious racket. "Something's happening in the second floor! It must be yet another swarm, damned be the world... and that man we met earlier is probably in trouble as well!"
<Shamal> "Go look into it and take Rin!" Shamal tells Berlioz. "I can handle this!"
* Berlioz nods and whistles to Rin, running downstairs as fast as he can as the damned swarm lets him.
> "Careful! If it's what I think it is - a vampire can summon rats, bats or other things en masse!" Berlioz calls as he goes through the swarm, racing out! OOC - I'll deal with you next round since you'll spend this round in mvoement, berli. Man is up.
<Shamal> "So can I!" Shamal fires back. "Besides, it's the middle of the day!"
> "All I know is that a vampire has cometo this city!" The man shoots back, as he snarls and makes more sweeps with his greatsword!
> roll 1d20+9
* Hatbot --> "Kotono rolls 1d20+9 and gets 26." [1d20=17]
> roll 2d6+4
* Hatbot --> "Kotono rolls 2d6+4 and gets 14." [2d6=4, 6]
> With a few more savage tears much of the herd has been cleaned out!  Rats fly about, body parts severed into bloody chunks! This eems to take the will out of most of the swarm, the survivors falling back and starting to slink away.
> OOC - Go aheadand go, shamal, but the fight is essentially over.
* Shamal sighs at the sudden violent end of the poor ensorcelled animals, "Come on, let's see what's downstairs," she tells him, casting a spell first. "I call upon the spirit of the bat to bless me with your ears," she incants a listening lorecall before hurrying out and down the stairs.
> The man merely nods as they go down! But Berlioz is ahead fo them! Reaching the second floor, he can hear and see it! The man with the hat and rapier is holding his hat down with one hand, the other withdrawing from a skewered large rat! There is another, a Dire Rat near the stairs and him! He looks up, face shadowed, "On guard! These creatures are fearsome!" OOC - Initaitive round with Berlioz, guy and rat.
<Shamal> OOC: And Rin!
> OOC: ANd Rin, yes.
<Shamal> roll 1d20+3 dog
* Hatbot --> "Shamal rolls 1d20+3 dog and gets 16." [1d20=13]
<Berlioz> roll 1d20+1
* Hatbot --> "Berlioz rolls 1d20+1 and gets 12." [1d20=11]
> roll 1d20+3 rat
* Hatbot --> "Kotono rolls 1d20+3 rat and gets 9." [1d20=6]
> roll 1d20+7 man
* Hatbot --> "Kotono rolls 1d20+7 man and gets 25." [1d20=18]
> The man holds, whirling around as he goes into a defensive pose.  OOC - Rin.
* Berlioz issues Rin quickly. "Go on the offense against the rat, Rin! Strike!"
<Shamal> Rin snarls briefly, before bounding forward at the command of her mistress' friend, diving onto the rat with savage canine fury!
<Shamal> roll 1d20+7
* Hatbot --> "Shamal rolls 1d20+7 and gets 8." [1d20=1]
> Said fury is wasted, however, as the rat is missed entirely! OOC - Berlioz.
* Berlioz winces and takes off his shortbow to strike, aiming at the damned rat.
<Berlioz> roll 1d20+5
* Hatbot --> "Berlioz rolls 1d20+5 and gets 9." [1d20=4]
> But Berlios just flat out misses, sending an arrow to the window sill and narrowly missing real property damage! Instead, the man acts before the rat can, rapier dancing out!
> roll 1d20
* Hatbot --> "Kotono rolls 1d20 and gets 7." [1d20=7]
> roll 1d6+6
* Hatbot --> "Kotono rolls 1d6+6 and gets 7." [1d6=1]
> The rat is gracefully skewered, whipped off the pointed sword! It's dead before it hits the ground, the stranger holding his hat down the entire time. "Hmph. Stupid little creature," he murmurs, as Shamal and the other man come downt he stairs.
<Shamal> "Okay, just what is going on here?" Shamal demands now that the immediate threat seems over.
> "That's what I'd like to know," the rapier man asks, posture slackening.  
* Berlioz scratches his head. "Dire Rat. We were scarcely needed, as the gentleman kindly showed us. Seems closely related to the rat swarm we had to face upstairs."
> "...My name is Donald Smurth. I hunt heretics and heresies, and I came to this town on information that a vampire is coming here." The greatsword is put away, "I'm sorry for invovling each of you."
<Shamal> "Well, you certainly found something," Shamal observes, belatedly handing over the holy symbol. "But these are not summoned creatures - summons don't leave corpses."
* Berlioz sighs. "We might as well have invited ourselves into it, anyway. If it concerns Balmuria, it concerns the Crimson Guard. At least, we're not in hostile terms with each other."
> "Well then, Donald Smurth and town servants?" The man heads to a room near the sunny window, going in. "I'll leave you to your hunting. It was a pleasure."
> "Was it a trap?" He asks aloud as he takes back his holy symbol. "It's the only thing I can think of."
<Shamal> "Either that or this inn has a severe pest problem," Shamal sighs, glancing down at the large dead rat. "I also believed you mentioned compensating the owner for the desk, so we might as well kill two birds with one stone by telling her about the rats as well."
> "Oh yes..." Donald looks down at that, "Yes, I suppose I should."
* Berlioz snickers. "Random acts of furniture abuse aren't as amusing as they sound once you realize they can be costly. Regardless, let us go."
> The innmistress stares at you as you come down stairs, waiting. "W-w-what is all that racket?!"
<Shamal> "You appear to have a rat problem," Shamal notes embarrassedly. "The gentleman here also needs to compensate you for some furniture that he damaged."
> "Y-yes. Here." Reaching into a travel pouch, four gold coins are passed over. "I broke a desk, so there you go." Donald blushes, turning his head away.
* Shamal smiles and pats Donald's shoulder. "Very admirable of you to take responsibility, at least."
> "...broke a desk? Rat problem?" The innmistress stares at the three of you, "What in the name of Chauntea is going on here?"
> "Yeah..." Donald looks down, "I'd never mean to do something like that, but aaah...would you care to explain?" he looks hopefully at Shamal.
* Shamal sets mode: +o Berlioz
<Shamal> "That's what we're trying to determine," the blonde witch returns evenly to the innkeeper, though does her best to temporise at Donald's prompting. "Mr Smurth here appears to be hunting a former guest at this establishment that he believes to be a vampire - is that right?" she asks, seeking confirmation.
> "V-V-V-Vampire?! Those d--don't exist!" The inn keep blurts, turning ruddy red in shock. She wobbles about, like a top ready to fall over.
* Berlioz rubs his temples. "Way to keep the sense of safety to our citizens. Calm down, lady. There is no evidence in favor of such a thing in here. Something unusual is certainly up, but I doubt it is a vampire."
> Donald blushes harder at this, "Aaah...yes, there is a rat problem," he adds. "But don't worry about it. Even if these is one, I'll destroy it!"
<Shamal> "Please ensure it really is a vampire, first," Shamal replies evenly. "I so would hate to arrest you for murdering someone who just happens to be pale and enjoys going out at night."
> "O-of course! I wouldn't make a mistake like that!" Donald glares just as evenly, "Butthere is a vampire here, and I'll kill it!"
* Berlioz rolls his eyes and facepalms. "For the love of whatever god you worship, my good man, there's an innocent citizen in the room. Emphatically affirming there is a vampire in town when no evidence either way has been show is -not- going to do her - or us - any good..."
> The innkeep just dizzes around,f alling back into her chair. "Oh...oh..."
<Shamal> "Come now, Berlioz, she's a grown woman, not a little girl who's going to have nightmares of things that go bump in the night," Shamal replies wearily. "Talk is talk, it's not like we've seen any evidence. Besides, until we see actual evidence of undead in the city, this matter no longer concerns us. We should return to our post."
<Shamal> Turning to the innkeeper, she smiles reassuringly, "Not to worry, citizen - as always, we're here to keep Balmuria safe!"
> "Oh." Donald coughs, "Uh, yes. Now then, I believe this would be a good tiem to take our leave?"
<Berlioz> "I think we have far overstayed our welcome, anyhow", Berlioz remarks blankly.
* Shamal nods and makes her way outside. "If you do find any evidence of a vampire, sir, I would ask that you bring it to the attention of the guard," she tells Donald as they leave. "Balmuria frowns on vigilante action within its walls, however justified."
> Donald nods once, tightly as he goes to his horse. "I'll bear that in mind. Thank you."
<Berlioz> "It would probably spare more innocent lodgekeepers from having their furniture and sanitary integrity sliced in half, at the very least", Berlioz finishes as he takes leave. "Good luck."
* Shamal nods. "And we must return to our duties. Good day," she tells the vampire hunter, before heading off back to the gates.
> "Wait," Donald says as he gets to his horse. "I almost forgot."
* Shamal stops and glances back with a questioning look.
> He goes to one of his bags, rustling in them a moment. "I do owe you. Here." He takes two things out, small silvery sun disks. "If you do happen to run into this vampire, this symbol presented with faith and courage should hold it at bay."
<Shamal> "Thank you," Shamal smiles warmly at the gift, pocketing it. "Will it work on other forms of undead?" It'd be more useful, since she has her doubts about an actual vampire being loose in the city.
> "Mainly vampires. I believe a few other types may be vulnerable, but...not all share that weakness." A nod as he then gets onto his horse, "Goood day and be safe."
<Shamal> "And to you, sir," the blonde with replies, giving a small wave before heading off back to rejoin the gate detachment. "So, what do you think?" she asks Berlioz as they head off.
* Berlioz sighs. "I think that the problems with that fellow are just starting. I don't care if he's hunting a Tarasque or one of your fancy evil gods, his furniture-cleaving days in Balmuria are probably far from over..."
<Shamal> "At least he seems well intentioned," Shamal muses. "But vampire or not, something was definitely controlling those rats, and I'd like to know what."
* Berlioz nods pensively. "I'll give you that. Something unnatural is up in the air. And, while I'd rather leave vigilantes to their own fortune (or lack thereof), I'm certain the Crimson Guard will end up involved in this somehow."
<Shamal> "And we thought today was going to be boring?" the blonde notes with a sidelongn grin as they stroll back to their post.
* Berlioz grins. "Indeed, Shamal. Indeed."
> As you walk down the streets, about halfway back, "Sirs!" You see and hear Biggs, waving as he runs up.
<Shamal> "Oh, Biggs," Shamal draws up short. "Problem?"
> "The other two wanted to know if something was wrong since you took so long," he reports breathlessly, "But it's been awhile now, since I had to track you down."
* Berlioz rubs his forehead. "We ran into some odd problems, Biggs."
<Shamal> "Yes, we got a little bit sidetracked," Shamal admits, glancing down at her somewhat torn attire from the mass rat attack. "Wish I'd prepared a mending spell, today..."
> "...oh, I see. Uh, did you get into a fight?" He asks, looking at the little tears, nicks and bites all over the two. "Sir, you don't look so good," he says to Berlioz in particular.
* Berlioz rubs his temples. "I... it's probably true, those damned rats bit me. I should've known better..."
<Shamal> "Sorry, I thought I could restrain them," Shamal looks a bit abashed.
> "...rats?" Biggs's eyes go wide, but he just starts walking back towards the gate instead.
* Berlioz sighs, following Biggs a bit more slowly. "It happened, no way to avoid it. If you want to make amends, a little help with the treatment wouldn't hurt."
<Shamal> "Yes, they appeared to be ensorcelled - the man we were looking for thought by a vampire, but who really knows?" Shamal explains, before idly reaching over to tap Biggs shoulder, her fingertips glowing softly as she casts a healing spell on the poor dear.
<Shamal> roll 1d8+3
* Hatbot --> "Shamal rolls 1d8+3 and gets 10."12 [1d8=7]

[Anastasia]

---Seira and Lyselle path and then the conclusion.---

> Biggs watches, "Why does this happen whenever you guys are around," he murmurs to himself,turning back to watch for anyone coming.
<Seira> "Superior spotting skills," Seira responds in a deadpan.
> "...heh." Biggs smiles a bit, "I never did thank you for a few weeks ago. Now Wedge hasn't been teasing me as much."
<Lyselle> "I was born into interesting times," Lyselle adds, pulling her gauntlets off and starting to braid the left half of her hair while they wait.
<Seira> "You must learn to tease back," Seira coaches him.
> As you wait, you soon notice someone coming on the horizon. "Really? He just always knows what to say. Whenever I get anywhere, he reminds me that he was fighting Malmuth while I was still wetting the bed."
<Seira> "And he still gets guard duty with such an impressive record?" Seira frowns, and returns her attention to the horizon rather than continuing.
> "He likes it." A shrug from him, "He has a family in town. Says that he just wants to make them a decent living." Ahead you can seea few horses coming. Looks like a trade caravan, perhaps, but you can'tq uite tell from here.
<Seira> "Due to the previous caravan's mischief, we should examine this one more thoroughly," Seira decides, telling Biggs, "Pick one of the packages at random and inspect it most thoroughly. Take your time."
* Lyselle tosses her hair behind her shoulder to get it out of the way, standing. "Want me to help out, or keep an eye on them?"
<Seira> "The latter, if you will," Seira requests. "If they are indeed up to no good, we must watch the merchants themselves, too."
* Lyselle nods, standing back at that and continuing to braid her hair, though thoroughly watching their incoming guests.
> It's a small caravan, only two guards and lots of pack animals. The guards wear United Baronies uniforms, red tunics. "Hail," the leader calls, "Iron shipment from Parsifal as well as a few things from the capital."
<Seira> "Welcome to Balmuria," Seira greets them, before addressing the leader. "May we see your papers?"
* Lyselle watches the guards and merchant without blinking, fingers still working easily on her braid.
> He nods once, passing over a single scroll. "New on the guardsman ship...oh, and Private Biggs, I believe," He nods to the man. "Good day to you."
* Seira looks over the scroll, taking stock of the shipment listed and the authorization.
> It looks official and in order. "Oh, hello, Sir Tinian." A polite nod, "This shouldn't be any problem, they're regulars on the iron trail to Balmuria." Past them, you an see someone else starting to approach, too.
* Seira motions for Biggs to proceed with the examination as planned, as she asks the leader, "Do you have anything to declare, Sir?"
> "Nothing that's not on the papers," he says, "Ran out of mead yesterday anyway, so I can't even declare that." Big guy, rich but over 300 pounds easily. His horse sags under his weight.
* Seira nods curtly, and awaits the results of Biggs's examination.
> Biggs finishes, "It's all in order, sir."
<Seira> "Thank you for waiting, Sir," she tells the caravan leader. "You may proceed. Have a nice day."
* Seira returns the papers to him.
> He smiles once, "...Thank you muchly." The papers are taken, heading into the gate. As this party passes through, you see it's only a few horses close together this time, a wagon drawn as well.
> As this part passes through, you can see the next. It's only a few horses close together, a wagon drawn as well.
* Seira awaits for them to come into range.
* Lyselle keeps braiding her hair, quickly working to the end of her hair, starting on the other half after tying the completed braid off.
> It's four. A man in plate armor and carrying a fearsome warmace on his belt, a tiny human girl with a bow and arrow, wearing cloth, a hooded man with a long beard, and a fresh faced, optimistic looking young fellow with a long sword on his back.
> The leader, the tall man in plate armor, holds up his hand. "Hello," he says, "Customs?"
* Seira nods curtly. "Welcome to Balmuria," she responds, before asking, "What is the purpose of your visit?"
> "Travel and looking for work," he says, wiping his brow with his travel stained gauntlet. "Also rest, we've been on the road for a few weeks now."
> The young girl smiles hesitantly, bowing her head, "Don't forget about taking me to go see the ocean, brother."
* Seira nods at that. "We have several more questions to go through, Sir," she informs him, before detailing the list of contraband and other forbidden substances. "Are you carrying any of these materials?" she asks the leader.
> "I doubt he'll forget," The robed man says quietly, voice rasping with a chuckle.
> "No."
> The leader demurs, "Mostly just gold coins and a few jewels. Bounty and loot from recent work."
<Seira> "I must inform you that magical and precious items and metals must be declared before entering the city," Seira says next, moving fluidly down the rest of the list. "Would you like to do so now?"
> "Yes, three things." A pounding on the man's plate covered chest, proud. "I won this from a spoiled noble in single combat. I've never been so well guarded. My brother's longsword is lightly enchanted, and my friend Garth has magical training."
<Seira> "You three are related?" Seira asks in mild surprise, looking at the leader, the swordsman and the archer girl.
> "Family," The small girl smiles, "Garth is a family friend. I'm Pollyanna, my big brother withthe armor is Seth, and the youngest is Richard."
* Seira nods once more. "I see, Ma'am." She recommends them a decent, affordable inn, as well as gives a general overview of the city's prominent mages and nobles that exist in the public's eye. "One of these may be looking to hire a group such as yours," Seira suggests. "It would not hurt to check. Please enjoy your stay in Balmuria."
> "Thank you," The oldest smiles a bit as the party heads inside and past. The youngest smiles at all, lingering on Lyselle. "My...how did you end up being a guard," she stops. "You're as young as I am!"
> Richard shakes his head, "...and you walked by the other young one...?" he murmurs.
* Lyselle looks up to the mounted ones, raising an eyebrow. "I'm a little over twenty," she offers, a little confused at the young girl. "I wouldn't be very different had I stayed home," she offers, looping her braids into a coronet around her head.
> "Well still...and yes, I suppose I did. It's just that she was so business like," AS the others pass, young Pollyanna looks around. "I suppose I'm not the only young lass in this sort of work?"
<Seira> "The Guard does not discriminate based on gender," Seira informs Pollyanna.
* Lyselle just offers a ight smile and a shrug, content with the state of her hair now. "I don't know as anyone would call me a 'lass', even when I was younger," she answers, shrugging, and nodding to Seira. "They don't, and it doesn't matter so much in the northern regions, either."
> "Amazing." A nod to both of them, "Cheerful, isn't it? Well then, I don't want my brothers to worry, but it's nice to see you!"
> Biggs watches a bit, eyes admittely straying down her as she goes. But otherwise, he keeps his mouth sut.
> *shut
<Seira> "They are late," Seira mutters under her breath.
> "Hm?" Biggs curiously turns to Seira. "Oh, you mean the sirs?"
<Lyselle> "Hm?" Lyselle asks curiously, blinking at Seira and turning to regard the dark haired elf-girl.
* Seira twitches at Biggs's words. "You may use their names when we are alone."
> "Well, you're the one who's all official..." Biggs nods, "Lyselle and Berlioz, they're late?"
<Seira> "Proper decorum and chain of command must be maintained in the presence of our superior officers and civillians," she responds, before frowning. "And yes. Just how long does it take to return a statue?"
<Lyselle> "...I'm right here," Lyselle adds pointedly, eyeing Biggs.
> "....oh. I meant Shamal, the other cute blond egirl..." Biggs hangs his head quickly.
* Lyselle can't help but snerk at that admission, looking out over the road instead of uncomfortably staring Biggs down.
<Seira> "There is no way Shamal would shirk her duties, is there?" Seira wonders out loud, her frown deepening.
> "I don't know about that Berlioz...but Shamal seems too nice to!" Biggs adds as the road is currently clear.
<Lyselle> "They must've run into some conundrum trying to return it," Lyselle agrees, noddng. "They wouldn't just disappear likethat."
<Seira> "We can give Shamal and Berlioz five more minutes, and then check with the guard to see whether they delivered the statue to them," Seira muses, glancing at Lyselle. "What do you think?"
<Lyselle> "Mmmm...I don't know, it seems ike we shouldn't really abandon our post here," Lyselle frowns, shrugging. "The guard in the city should be able to help them with any troubles, right?"
<Seira> "We would not leave," Seira responds, and nods her head at Biggs.
> "If it's that urgent, just get the guard to stay here with me a couple of minutes," he offers.
* Seira shakes her head. "There is no reason to believe such."
> So 5 minutes pass and then 10. Still no sign of Shamal or Berlioz returning.
* Seira turns to give Biggs a calculating look. "Private, see what is keeping Shamal and Berlioz from returning," she tells him. "Check in with the Guard for any news."
> "Yes sir," Biggs nods sharply, taking his spear up as he goes.
> "I'll report back as soon as I can." With that he goes into the city, as the two are a lone at the gate for the moment.
<Seira> Seira's frown refuses to disappear as she settles in to wait more, for either information or fresh arrivals.
> Soon as you wait another arrival comes. This time it's a small, single person. Well, that's one thing. The second is that you can smell him from here, which confirms what he is. A goblin approaches the gates of Balmuria, leather armor and short sword noticed.
* Seira waits for him to come closer, outwardly unconcerned.
> Yep, it's a goblin. It squints it's little eyes at the two guardsmen, then calls, "Hey, hey!" As it walks forward, "Tell me something!"
<Seira> "What do you wish to know?" Seira asks him, her voice carrying over the distance.
> Still several hundred feet away andk eeping some distance, "Are there some cowardly humans who raided into our own territory here? I'm looking for them!"
<Seira> "When were you raided, and by whom?" she asks impassively.
> "Nearly a full moon ago by miserable humans!" Snarling, "ABout four of them!"
<Seira> "That would be me, then," she tells him in that same carefully bland tone of voice. "A goblin tribe was harrassing our farmers. Our team was dispatched to engage in negotiations. The goblin leader, Yezrut, refused to deal with us, and had to be dealt with. The rest of the tribe was allowed to retreat peacefully." She pauses thoughtfully, before adding, "There was nothing cowardly about the battle, I assure you."
> "Ooooh...oooooh...It was you?! I'll...I'll...remember that!" The goblins wears before turning, making a good fleeing run away. "I'll get revenge you cowards!"
<Seira> "You are headed the wrong way to make good on your promise," Seira informs the fleeing goblin.
> So it is. The goblin's still fleeing anyway, to the horizon and gone.
<Seira> What a shame Biggs had to miss this, Seira muses, though she pays more attention to the horizon, now, in case the goblin's friends are nearby.
> Lyselle is just being quiet, seeming to be lost braiding her hair or some such. It's pretty blonde hair, at least...(Sec for catchup.)
> So soon enough Biggs returns, and with the lost three as well. Even if all three look rather bitten up, savef or the freshfraced Biggs as he returns to his post...
<Shamal> "We had a slight rat problem," Shamal explains before anyone can ask. "Miss anything exciting, here?"
<Seira> "Indeed," Seira says with a raised eyebrow, before an annoyed frown crosses her face. "A goblin appeared and declared vengeance on me."
<Lyselle> "I braided my hair," Lyselle adds dryly, snorting.
<Seira> "There was that, too," Seira agrees, nodding.
* Berlioz snickers. "This must be such a sad day for you, Seira. Woe is the poor soul who gets challenged by a goblin."
<Seira> "I anticipate the execution of his cunning ploy with baited breath."
> "At least it's almost over." Biggs sighs, "Not much longer until we should get relieved."
<Shamal> "Well, at least it hasn't been dull, no?" Shamal smiles gamely.
> So the next few minutes pass. Nothing of note occurs, until at last..."There they are," Biggs turns back, five guardsman coming to the gate.
* Shamal salutes the approaching guards, ready to be relieved of her post.
> "Thanks, it wasn't bad working with you," Biggs smiles and rubs the back of his head, before saluting the coming guards and then going off.
* Lyselle adds a salute and a smile, before heading onwards in the direction of 'home'.