(Prologue) It was a dark and stormy night......

[Custom_Hobby]

Aurum is looking at the bottom of his mug and watches as the barmaid brings a fresh mug to Rogon. He decides to get another so he raises his empty mug and says "another" with a harsh accent. You can tell he speaks another language that you have not heard before.

[Balgin Stondraeg]

"Courtesy of the priest," mumbles the maid as she sets teh drinks down on the table. After the group have had a few minutes to sip away (and wonder what's going on), the priest signs for the magician to remain seated (sort of a "wait here" gesture) and combes ambling across the room towards the small company's table. (I'm assuming Kiaphas and the dwarven brothers are not there but the other three characters are).

Brother Berden is in his late thirties and robed as befits a priest of the order. A dark skull cap rests upon his pate and a close cropepd goatee frames his mouth. He currently seems quite perplexed and is clearly relieved to see some civilised faces amongst the crowd.

"Greetings," he says, and his voice speaks of eloquence and learning, "I am brother Salian Berden of the church of Theydori and I currently require your help." With that he pulls up a chair and stands behind it, resting his hands on the top of the backrest. "If you are willing, that is. You see, the church requires the services of the eminent scholar, Naedath Kelden over there, to assist us in a matter of great importance. Unfortunately, he is unwilling to do so without some, assistance and protection. You see, it's the weather, you see...." Here he casts his eyes back across the room to the "eminent" Naedath before continuing. "He claims that his joints sieze up at this time of the year, but I suspect he's just trying for more money, and then it is nearly time for the raiding season again and he just wouldn't feel safe upon the ship without some bodyguards."

Pulling the seat back slightly, as if to sit, he asks "shall we retire to a more suitable room to discuss the matter away from the prying ears of the mob?"

[Fabian]

Alarian looks at Ivor and Raul, "It seems like a sensible idea to me, what say you?"

[Alex]

Ivor draws himself up in his chair, trying hard to look suitably like bodyguard material. The effect is vaguely comical, as his brow furrows and his singed eyebrows knit together.

He doesn't want to blow the contract for the others, so he keeps quiet- he's used to letting Raul do all the talking in this sort of situation. Scanning the room for inspiration, he sees an intimidating pair of dwarves glancing in this direction, and subtly tries to emulate their body language, taking a big glug of cider.

[Fabian]

Alarian suppresses a grin at Ivor's posturing, and turns back to the priest "I think that we might need the services of a particular kind of man if we're to venture out onto the whale's path; perhaps you could sound out the man of Gurthor there to see if he is of a mind to accompany us?"

[Keeper]

Raul has visibly relaxed from the earlier escapade with the "mouse" and with the prospect of finding some useful work. The extra pint of ale has helped too, even if it is only the weak rotten slop they serve in this dive: but ale is ale after all.  Ivor's upkeep is something that Raul needs to consider; but Raul is sure it will pay off for them both one day.

"Perhaps, then, if he is agreeable we might all retire to a different location together to discuss this proposal of yours.  I'm certainly interested enough to find out more, brother."

[Fabian]

Sorry keeper, I meant Teufel's character (the druid), not the dwarves (whoever they are)  :icon_razz:

[Keeper]

Fixed my earlier post.  Thanks Fabian :)

[Mr Teufel]

OOC: Whoops, missed this til now.
Kiaphas Stormvoice is oblivious to all around him, staring out the window into the storm. He whistles tunelessly thru his teeth, tho someone listening carefully might hear it parallelling the ebb and flow of the rain across the roof. He grins hugely each time thunder rumbles.

He wears dark seagreen robes, weathered and sun bleached, and as wild as his black mane.

[Balgin Stondraeg]

Brother Salian Berden leads the group back past the bar towards the empty room at the back where drunkards can crash out for the night. As he passes the two dwarfs he suggests that "perhaps you might care to join us" and keeps on moving.

The venerable Naedath clutches at his staff and uses it to lever himself to his feet. He begrudgingly follows the assembled company into the back room whilst the two acolytes nervously pinch disused barstools and hope none of the patrons notice. If they do, they don't seem to care.

[Mr Teufel]

As they pass where Kiaphas is standing, he turns. In a rumbling voice he asks, "Did you mention a need for Gurthor's aid?"

[Balgin Stondraeg]

"Why yes indeed," replies the sage Naedath, "a safe hand to guide the ship to it's destination." Brother Berden scowls and the wizard sneers at him, clearly intent on putting him in his place.

[Keeper]

"Well done." Raul says quietly to Ivor, leaning down a little to put a friendly hand on his shoulder.  "You're doing really well.  Keep it up just a while longer, my friend."

[Mr Teufel]

Kiaphas grins. "I have need to commune with the sea again from an open deck. It seems Gurthor intends for our wakes to cross." He pats the sage on the shoulder heartily, and sweeps along with the group as if he always belonged.

[Fabian]

Alarian smiles and says to Raul "It would seem that we have joined a veritable warband now! I'm glad that the sea-priest was amenable."