[PF] The Enemy Within

[Jabas]

The Enemy Within

Part One: Mistaken Identity


“Move aside!” The coachman’s bellow can only just be heard above the deluge and the noise of the horse’s hooves on the muddy road, but there is no mistaking its venom. You stand, rooted to the spot for a moment, mud squelching around your feet, as the horses thunder towards you, urged on by their furious driver.

“Move aside!” he repeats, angrier still, but there is little room for manoeuvre. The coach is as wide as the road, to either side of the which the land banks steeply into water-filled ditches that descend into the dark forest. You will either need to take your chances on the slippery bank, and risk a tumble into the ditch, or stand your ground and hope that the driver reins the horses in just in time.

As if in response to the second option, the coachman raises a blunderbuss. “Move, or I’ll shoot!”

The horses are close enough now that the mud churned up by their hooves is splattering your clothes.

Let’s get straight into it. Avoiding the coach requires jumping down the steep, slippery bank at the side of the road, and you’ll need to make a successful DC 15 Acrobatics check to keep your footing. Of course, you can always take your chances and hope that the coachman is bluffing…

[Athaleon]

Thelios Aroven leaped aside at the last moment, hoping to salvage at least some dignity by not landing face first in the ditch.

Acrobatics: [roll0]

He couldn't even be granted that; the wet grass beneath him caused him to land in an ungraceful tangle in the murky water. Even before he extracted himself from the ditch, he looked around to see if anyone had seen him fall. The idea of these provincial dirt farmers enjoying a laugh at his expense filled him with a cold fury.

He desperately needed a ride to Altdorf, but it wasn't worth getting shot nor trampled. For all he knew, the man was serious — Everything he had seen led him to believe that life was cheap in these parts. All he could do was climb back up and try to engage the coachman for his services.

[DrK]

Wolfgang

"Morr piss on your watery grave you drunken fool! Wolfgang roars back as he stands firm holding up the symbol of the twin tailed comet in one hand and the warhammer in the other and expecting the coach to slither to a halt.

"Hold your damn beasts!" the shout louder against the rain as he refuses to budge aside. He was in pursuit of a vile sorcerer of the dark Gods. He couldn't be wasting time rolling in the mud avoiding drunken coach drivers.

[Madhand]

Doramar was in a terrible mood, he hated the rain and while this trip had been pleasant at times now was NOT one of those times. Then this coach came along and made things worse, now his robes were splattered with mud and some oafish fool, no doubt drunk and in a hurry to get to some harlot, was threatening him! This would not stand.

"Shoot and you'll burn!"

As the Bright Wizard made his threat, he jolted his head so that the hood of his cloak fell back revealing his hair and eyes, they marked him unmistakeably as a wizard.

[the geekish one]

Halmek was scared. He was already wary of the wizard he had been traveling with, and now it looked like he would be caught in the crossfire between Doramar and the crazed carriage driver. Panicking he attempts to jump to the slope at the edge of the road.
[roll0]

Unfortunately, his boot caught in the squelching mud. For a brief moment he thought the boot would hold him, but with a pop he sailed free. He tumbled down the slope, cursing as he went, and landed with a splash in the water below.

"Anything's better than being dead," he thought to himself as he clambered to his feet. Halmek squints in order to catch a glimpse of the coming confrontation through the curtains of rain.

[slugboy_73]

Otto stands firm, confident that Sigmar will keep him safe from such trivial things as out of control coaches.

[Jabas]

Humanity’s pride has so often been its undoing, and now is no exception; as the elf and halfling leap out of the way, both losing their footing on the steep, slippery bank and ending up with faces full of mud and ditch water, the three humans stand their ground, trusting that their faith – or their threats – will stay the hand of the coachman. But with twilight rapidly descending, the driver has no time for compromise. The blunderbuss emits a thunderous roar that startles the birds from their roosts and discharges a cloud of black smoke into the air; a moment later, there is the sound of pellets whistling through the air, tearing through overhanging leaves and embedding themselves in the surrounding flora.

It takes Doramar and Wolfgang a moment or so to realise that they have escaped injury, save for a few holes in their clothing where pellets have passed clean through. Otto is not so fortunate. Blood runs from a gash to the side of his head, while pellets have lodged in his arm and thigh; although they do not seem as severe as the head wound, they are just as painful.

The driver yells something that is difficult to hear above the ringing in your ears from the weapon’s discharge, and the driving rain. Whatever it was he said, it doesn’t seem like it was sympathetic, as he urges the horses forward.

Otto takes 4 points of damage. The horses are just feet away now; even if the driver wanted to, he wouldn’t be able to stop them in time.

[Madhand]

Doramar was livid with rage, the man had tried to kill him, and was trying to kill him again! Still he had no choice but to attempt to leap aside.

[roll0]

While in midair he would also attempt to fry the fool who dare attack him. A lance of fire burst from Doramar's hand while he flew through the air.

Use Fire Jet class ability, DC 14 Reflex for half damage. If he fails his saving throw he also catches on fire.

I rolled a 1 for damage in a previous post that I screwed up the rest of the coding on

[the geekish one]

Halmek charges up the slope when he hears the shot, drawing his pistol as he goes, hoping to help whoever had been wounded, but when he sees the gout of flame shooting through the rain he drops to the ground.

[slugboy_73]

Otto remembers that even the great works of Sigmar can be undone by fools. He lets the impact from the shot carry him down and attempts to dive out of the way of the coach. He lands in a heap down in the mud, but at least he isn't getting trampled by the horses (hopefully).

Acrobatics check [roll0]

[DrK]

Cursing ranalds fortune that had not drawback the crossbow Wolfgang just has time to dive down the bank rolling and crashing through mud and bush.

Lying in the mud he let's the hammer go and pulls out the crossbow training it on the flame illuminated driver...



Acrobatics [roll0]
Fall down slope and draw the x bow.

[Athaleon]

Thelios quickly weighed his options. He would not normally have considered killing the coachman; unlike their mercurial or treacherous cousins the Asur did not have irritants slain out of hand. And the yokels would have him lynched, undoubtedly.

But the coachman had chosen to fire on the men in his path, and they were bringing their weapons to bear for a return volley. Thelios decided to throw his lot in with these people, and hope for a ride to Altdorf or at least to take one of the horses for himself. If they refused him, he was no worse off than before.


Assuming that his last turn used a move action to evade the coach and another move action to stand up, this turn will be a move action to draw weapon and standard to loose.

Attack:
[roll0]

Damage:
[roll1]

[Jabas]

The charging coach scatters those left on the road like pins in a Tilean skittles game, as they hurl themselves to one side, tumbling down the sludge and landing in the ditch at the foot of the slope. In an impressive cat-like manoeuvre, the furious Doramar manages to unleash a stream of flame while in mid-air, but he is too off balance to aim with any great accuracy and the coachman escapes with his hair singed, though the sudden surge of heat does cause his heart to leap into his mouth for a moment and a he roars a few choice curses as he urges the horses on.

By the time Thelios manages to take his shot, the coach has already passed the spot where the travellers were standing just a moment ago, and his arrow thuds into one of the wheels. A moment later, the coach has disappeared around a bend in the road, churning up the muddy road, and leaving the group of travellers to pick themselves out of the ditch and clamber back up the slope.

[the geekish one]

As the noise fades out Halmek lifts his face from the ground and looks about. Seeing no more immediate danger he picks himself up off the ground, and briefly inspects his weapon. Satisfied that it has come to harm he bolsters it and brushes his hands on his pants, while checking that he hasn't lost any of his belongings in the tumble.

With a sigh he begins the climb up the slope.

As he reaches the road again he calls out, "Everyone alright?"

[Madhand]

Doramar's mid-air fire-slinging looked impressive, his land did not. He managed to land face first in a muddy patch on the slope, followed by him tumbling down into a lovely puddle in the ditch. Now he looked not so much like a wizard, but a great shambling pile of mud.

Skyhook cursed furiously in several different languages as he picked himself out of the ooze and climbed back onto the road. Rainy days were always such a bad time.

"I'm fine, my clothing, hair, and pride are not."

[DrK]

"You fool" Wolfgang howls at the receeding coach before slowly climbing the heavily overgrown bank. As he reaches the top and rejoins the road he smiles grimly to the paladin before approaching the wizard, hand on hammer.

"Magister. How do you fare. Which college do you hail from?" he watches keenly, thoughts of the sorcerer he is tracking on his mind.

Looking to the others he raises his grizzly voice somewhat"I am not familiar with the Altdorf road, do any of you know where the next taven is?"

[Athaleon]

"The coachman did hit someone." Thelios motions to the human lying bleeding in the ditch. "Does anyone here know how to treat a wound?"

He cursed inwardly. The magi had pulled Thelios from his martial training as soon as they caught the faintest whiff of the Winds coming off him. He had barely been trained in how to shoot a bow properly, never mind battlefield surgery.

[the geekish one]

Halmek looks over Otto, nodding to himself as he inspects each wound.

"I've seen worse from recruits. Right now we should just wrap the wounds and stop the bleeding. The pellets will have to come out, but this isn't exactly the ideal location".

He begins tearing strips of cloth from Otto's clothing and wrapping the wounds, starting with the nasty gash on his head.

"Consider yourself lucky, friend," He said, smiling, "You almost wound up meeting that god you thought would protect you."

[slugboy_73]

"Thank you," says Otto as he sits up and begins to clean off his wounds. He says a prayer to Sigmar and his wounds begin to glow and close up. The peices of metal shot appear to spit out of the wounds. The wounds close up leaving not even a red mark.

Cure Light Wounds [roll0]

He stands up and offers his hand to the person helping him, I am Otto, priest of Sigmar, who are you my friend? I hope that was not the coach we were supposed to catch for Altdorf.

[the geekish one]

Taken aback by the miraculous healing Halmek carefully reaches up and shakes Otto's hand.
"Halmek, graduate of the gunnery academy in Nuln. Pleasure to meet you," he gestures at the ragged tears in Otto's clothes, "Uh, sorry about that. I had your best interests at heart!" As he says that he rubs the back of his head sheepishly.

"Altdorf isn't too far down the road in any case, it isn't any great loss if that was our coach.

[slugboy_73]

Otto looks down at the rips in his clothes, No apology needed, you were doing what you thought best.

As everyone reassembles Otto first checks to see if anyone else was hurt. He chuckles when he finds was the only unlucky one to be hit by the man. He then makes the suggestion, "Gunner Halmek here says that Altdorf is not too far down the road. Shall we continue on foot towards Altdorf? It is better than standing around here. Maybe we will find a coach more welcoming than the last one.

[the geekish one]

"I see no reason not to, safety in numbers and all that. Bandits are purportedly quite common on this stretch of road. That night explain the coachman's... Reluctance to stop."

[Athaleon]

Thelios sighs, resigned to having to make the journey to Altdorf on foot, and probably never catching up to the man he was pursuing. In lawless country like this, traveling alone was suicidal.

"Yes, at any rate let's get moving."

[Madhand]

Doramar had become preoccupied with getting the muck out of his hair, so he only belatedly noticed that he was being questioned. He glanced at the man addressing him and sighed before reaching into his robe and pulling out his license.

"I am a Bright Wizard, which would be most obvious were I not currently covered in filth."

He turns his attention to the other conversations going on among the group.

"I would almost welcome a bandit attack, it would give us a proper target upon which to vent our ire, since the drunkard is out of reach."

He then starts walking the road back to Altdorf, which at this time seems far too long.

[the geekish one]

Halmek has to jog to keep pace with Doramar, but makes an effort nonetheless. He gives the Mage a nervous smile, I'd be careful what you say. Sometimes you get what you ask for."

[Jabas]

The mud-stained troupe trudges along the road, the rain getting progressively heavier as evening falls and the shadows grow. Somewhere in the forest – it could be miles away, or less than a furlong: it is almost impossible to gauge in this squall – a creature howls, a deep, bestial roar that curdles the blood. On the edges of one’s vision, shadows seem to move and flicker, but the blackness beyond the treeline is absolute, and even elven eyes cannot see more than a few yards beyond the limit of normal vision. It is not a night to be outdoors in the most pleasant of surroundings, let alone in the middle of one of the Empire’s forests.

As if Ranald has intervened directly, the lights of an inn appear around the next bend as a veritable sanctuary. As the group moves closer, the smell of cooking filters through the rain, and the sound of raucous singing can be heard.


http://i622.photobucket.com/albums/tt310/huw_williams/Call%20of%20Cthulhu/Paths%20of%20the%20Damned/The%20Enemy%20Within/coach_and_horses.jpg
A battered wooden sign reveals the inn as the Coach and Horses, a fairly typical coaching inn, and one of scores that can be found on the Empire’s roads. Behind a high, whitewashed wall is a spacious courtyard, where two horses are being unharnessed from a coach by stable hands. The beasts will no doubt be thankful for a dry stall and fresh hay after a long day on the road. A cheer erupts within the inn itself, and the flickering light suggests a hearth with a roaring fire. As rain trickles down the necks, and drips from the noses of the travellers, there can be few sights and sounds so welcome.

[the geekish one]

"An inn! I doubt any sight could be more welcome!

Halmek picks up his pace a bit, trailing behind as he was. He attemots to slip through the door as quietly as possible.

[DrK]

Wolfgang walks quietly in the pouring rain. The sight of Sigmar's power healing the priest had been an insipring one. Maybe the priest would help in his hunt for the sorcerer?

As the lights appeared he breathed a sigh of relief, "A welcome sight." He mutters. "It is not good to be about after nightfall, not until the fires of Sigmar have purged the forests and made them safe for decent god fearing folk".

As he approached the Inn he moves closer to the coach, "Is this our friend's coach?"

[slugboy_73]

Otto joins the rest of the group moving in towards the inn. Thank Sigmar! I am ready to get out of this rain!. He checks back to make sure that everyone is together and no one fell behind.

[Athaleon]

Thelios was grateful to be out of the foreboding woods, but still too sullen to do much more than try to shake the mud off his boots and follow the others in.

[Madhand]

Doramar sighs inwardly as the approach the inn. Though the inn itself is most welcome, and he will enjoy an end to the accursed rain, Doramar did not look forward to dealing with all the people. These people would fear and despise him just like all the others, no matter what he did for the Empire it would only be in the company of other Wizards that he would be at ease. With a shrug of his weary, cold, and muddy shoulders Doramar headed for the door.

[Jabas]

The door is flung open, throwing out a cacophony of singing and laughter as well as the delicious aroma of something being slowly roasted. The frame is filled by a squat, jowly fellow with a red face and a set of whiskers that give him the appearance of a flustered walrus. He regards the group for a long moment, beady eyes peering out from beneath heavy unkempt eyebrows, before the whiskers part to reveal a yellowed grin. “Good evening!” he booms in a voice that cuts through the air like the crack of a musket. “I thought I heard someone, though Sigmar knows how with all that racket in there. Now, come in, have a seat by the fire, get yourselves warmed up. Got a lovely big boar on the spit tonight – no, no, I’ll take your cloaks, you just make yourself comfy. Now, how about some drinks, eh? We brew our own ale at the Coach and Horses, or there’s some lovely brandy we just got in that’s all the way from Estalia, if that’s more your thing.”

The man barely draws breath in the midst of his effusive chatter and whirls through the bar room like a cyclone, knocking into tables and barging aside chairs with his considerable frame, as patrons, clearly used to his antics, pick up their drinks and slide back their chairs upon seeing him approach. One fellow is too slow, and finds his bowl of soup upturned in his lap, prompting a flurry of apologies and shouts to the kitchen for another serve, on the house of course.

[slugboy_73]

Otto looks around and finds a table big enough for everyone to sit together. He plops down into a chair with a sigh of relief. He makes no attempt to hide his holy symbol or shield with Sigmar's hammer on it.

[Athaleon]

Thelios keeps his cloak pulled up, hoping to pass unnoticed. He followed Otto to the table and took a seat facing the rest of the room. If he was lucky, the man he was after had laid up here for the night.

[the geekish one]

Grinning at the innkeeper's antics Halmek moves to the table that Otto has picked out. He calls to the innkeeper for a mug of ale.

[Madhand]

Doramar blinks a few times and then shakes his head slowly to avoid any splatter. He did not know why he got such an easy welcome, but he would enjoy it as long as he could. He squelched over to the table and sits down, his robe oozing mud onto the seat.

[DrK]

Wolgang smiles a grim smile as he taps pulls out his pipe and holds the tobacco to a flickering candle flame. Taking a long draw he nods to the inn keep. "Ale, Bugman's if you've got it?" before doffing off his coat and hat shaking off the rain. "raining down like Mannan's own piss out there."

Looking about to the others he nods a grim smile. "What takes you fellows to Altdorf?"

[Athaleon]

Thelios doesn't take his eyes off the patrons as he says quietly and evenly "I'm after a man who stole something from me. Fortunately he fled in the direction I was going anyway."

[slugboy_73]

Otto gets a small grin on his face. Nothing so dramatic here. I have been sent by my church to go on the mission to the Gray Mountains that is venturing forth from Altdorf.

[the geekish one]

"I've just been following the crowd. Right now there seems to be quite a few people headed to Altdorf, so I might as well go.

[Jabas]

It is a curious group indeed that settles itself at the table. There are several reproachful glances from some of the patrons, particularly at the elf, but that is as far as things go. Doramar’s appearance alone is enough to keep most potential troublemakers at bay. Unless they are witch hunters, or part of a superstitious mob, of course, but there do not appear to be any such gatherings at the inn tonight.

The bar room itself is generously proportioned and well maintained, with freshly lacquered beams and a well scrubbed floor. The furniture seems mostly in good condition, with only the chance nick or scratch around the edges of the odd table or chair. From first impressions, the landlord’s bustling could be the main cause of much of the wear and tear.

Of the patrons, the most noticeable are the two men dressed in coachmen’s livery – white collared shirts beneath loosely buttoned green and maroon waistcoats – who appear to be the source of the laughter and singing that could be heard on approaching the inn. Both are clearly well into their cups, and seem to find the most innocuous comment or incident hilarious, interspersing their off-key crooning with fits of red-faced mirth.

Their behaviour is clearly not to the taste of a young noblewoman, who looks rather out of place in such surroundings and makes her displeasure clear with constant scowling and pursing of her lips. She is a young, attractive lady, finely dressed and with unblemished, porcelain skin. Accompanying her are a small, shrew-like girl of about fifteen who seems to be more interested in her own feet that anything that is happening around her, and a tall, burly woman dressed in leather armour, her hair pulled into a severe bun that accentuates the hardness of her plain, weathered face.

In the corner, a young man with brown hair and a pale complexion sits absorbed in a large, thick book, his face immersed so deeply between its covers that his sizeable nose is almost brushing the pages. A mug of ale and a bowl of stew sit untouched beside him, most likely forgotten in his fascination with whatever he is reading.

Leaning against the bar is a colourful gentleman dressed in a rather garish, lace-trimmed outfit, his jacket and trousers finely embroidered. Long, curly hair falls about his slender shoulders and his soft, pasty skin is punctuated by a beauty spot on his right cheek. He gazes at the new arrivals with interest before returning to his goblet of wine, his nose wrinkling in obvious revulsion as he takes a small sip.

The landlord returns bearing drinks, clutching them between his thick, sausage-like fingers. He distributes them randomly, crashing one of the tankards down on the table and slopping ale onto Otto’s lap.

“Enjoy!” he booms, slapping Wolfgang on the back with a little more weight than he is probably aware of. “Fine brew, that, we only opened it yesterday and we’re already nearly out. Let me know if you need anything else. Got a cracking boar roasting out the back, just brought in this morning by a local hunter. Good man, very generous with what he brings down. Had some lovely venison a couple of weeks ago, now that went down a real treat, I tell you. Well, I bet you can imagine it can’t you. Yes, a real tasty treat, that one. Well this is just as good, been roasting it all day so it just falls right off. Just sing out if you’re keen. Gustav’s the name, don’t be afraid to use it.”

The man seems in no hurry to depart, and hovers over the group, his red face beaming. “Heading south are we?” he continues. “Down to Altdorf, I expect? Ah, yes, that’s a grand city, a grand city indeed. A bit lively for a man of my age, I’m happy enough tucked away up here, but that’s where youngsters like yourselves want to be. That’s where the fun is, after all. Ah yes, a grand city.”

He looks a little wistful, and his eyes glaze momentarily as if he is remembering something, but his reverie is interrupted by the arrival of a large crow that drops from the rafters and perches on his shoulder. He winces as its claws bite into his flesh, but chuckles. “Blackie! Where have you been? You hungry? Of course you are, you always bloody are! Excuse me fellas,” he smiles apologetically, turning to leave. “Let me just get this one his supper, then I’ll be back to finish the story.”

[DrK]

Wolgang coughs and sprays ale over the table as Gustav hammers his back. Scowling slightly he grunts a muffled "Altdorf Aye." Before tucking into the sasuages.

As he leaves he glances at the others "The man may be a fool but he can cook." Looking to the others he replies to his own question, "I am in pursuit of someone as well," glancing at the Priest "A dangerous Sorcerer, a rogue one not aligned with the colleges."

[slugboy_73]

An unsactioned wizard?!, gasps Otto. That can definitely trouble.

[slugboy_73]

Otto scans around the room. There are quite a few interesting folks around here. He motions for food for the table. When the landlord comes back by he asks him Do you know if those men over there, pointing at the coachmen, are headed to Altdorf, or are we close enough that we could walk into the city?

[DrK]

An unsactioned wizard?!, gasps Otto. That can definitely trouble.

The witch hunter nods, a wide smoke ring puffing out of the pipe and lofting towards the ceiling. "Its gets worse Father Otto." Wolgang says gravely, "not only unsactrioned but a dark mage of the ruinious powers. Dark magics from the far north if you get my meaning." Staring darkly into the blazing fire, "don't worry, when I catch him he's got an appointment with the flames."

Glancing back at the coachmen he stands up and strolls over to the two lewd coachmen. "Travellors, you be heading South to the City? Any room for some faithful of the Heldenhammer?

[Madhand]

Doramar eats and drinks in relative silence, his discomfort with this situation growing. Here he was eating with mundane people, at least half of whom would no doubt try to murder him in some grisly fashion if his license was ever stolen or lost. There might be a number of interesting characters in the bar, but Doramar would not approach them, he was as afraid of them as they were of him.

[Athaleon]

Thelios had a hunch, and waited for the opportunity to speak with the proprietor without having to yell. This was no country for a man to be camped outside at night, and with any luck, his quarry might be lodged in this very inn. He didn't see the man in the common room, at any rate.

[the geekish one]

Halmek chews his lip nervously at the mentions of dark magic, and begins eyeing the pale young man in the corner, looking or any sign of power.

[slugboy_73]

Otto notices Doramar's souring expression, Doramar, is our talk of dark mages spoiling your mood? I hope you don't fear us turning on you? That certificate you have shows us that you have been trained in the great Imperial colleges. How great that must have been! You have been trained to recognize the temptations of the darkness and to fight against it! You could possible give us insight into what to look for in others to help look for any start of corruption. Please don't let our conversation spoil your dinner.

[Jabas]

“Walk to Altdorf?” says Gustav, panting a little from the exertion of constantly barrelling to and fro between the kitchen and the bar room. “I wouldn’t advise it, not even if you’ve got friends with you. It’ll take you the best part of a week on foot, and the roads are a danger at the best of times, and even worse nowadays. Bandits everywhere – and worse! Only last week a coach didn’t get through. That one was bound for Altdorf too. About time the Emperor started looking after the common folk and maintaining the roads, instead of spending all that money on his army.” He drops his voice and looks around surreptitiously as he utters the last point.

“No, I’d say you want to have a chat with those fellas over there,” he jerks his thumb at the two coachmen. “They’re heading for Altdorf, though not sure how much room they’ve got. But as long as you’ve got the coin, they should be able to squeeze you in.”

He waddles off to check on the young ladies, and is promptly dismissed in the most sour fashion. Clearly a man without prejudice, after an abrupt about turn, he has no hesitation in heading over to the subtly beckoning elf.

Wolfgang finds the two coachmen to be well past the point of intelligent conversation. They are presently engaged in trying to spit beer into one another’s mouths, but cease when they find the priest standing at their table. “Oops! Sorry, father!” grins the more sober looking of the two. “I was jus’ sayin’ t’ Holtz here, I was... I was jus’ sayin’...yep! Ah, yes, I was sayin’ that it’s good to see a man of the churches here. Nice to see. Yep!”

He sways in his chair a little as his companion looks positively comatose. “So you wanna ride, ay? Well, we are...um...we are a bit...how you say it? Full! A bit full! But we can make more room. But it costs of course, you see, father. Wear ‘n’ tear on coach ‘n’ horses and all that. So yes, we can do it father. We can certainly do it, father. And for you, father, a special fare of only seven gold crowns each. That’s it father. Jus’ seven crowns all the way to Altdorf father. Sounds good?”

[Athaleon]

Thelios assumes his most sincere, not to say unctuous, demeanor.

"Thank you again for your hospitality, my good man. Tell me, has a man of this description passed through here today?"

He goes on to describe, as best he can, the man who stole his spellbook.

[the geekish one]

After listening to the drunken coachmen's rambling speech Halmek nods to himself. "Sounds like a deal to me. I'd happily pay seven crowns. For now though I think I'd like a room and a bath." He waves over the innkeeper and indicates as such.

[DrK]

Wolfgang nods to the others, "I'll talk to my colleagues. Reckon we'll be clutching on the roofs if we all want to hop on board".

He looks about, waves to the barman, "Couple for the lads here". Pointing at the two coachmen. "Enjoya couple on us".

Heading back to his newfound colleagues he motions over to the coachmen. "Well, 7 crowns apiece and we can avoid a long walk."

[slugboy_73]

Seven crowns is definitely better than a week long walk. Although the way those guys are putting drinks away we may end up driving the coach instead of them.

[the geekish one]

"Maybe!" Halmek laughs. He stands up from the table hands a few coins to Gustav.
""I'll be upstairs if anyone needs me. Walking in thenrain isn't as fun as it looks.

[Jabas]

Gustav shakes his head at Thelios, his jowls wobbling noticeably. “Not seen someone fitting that look,” he says. “And I never forget a face. I could pick out any man who’s been in here in the last ten years, I reckon. Of course, a few of them I’d rather not set eyes on again, but I’d know them, no doubt about that.”

There is a loud cheer from the coachmen as Wolfgang arranges another round of drinks, and Gustav waddles off to pour them, knocking another chair – thankfully an unoccupied one – flying in the process.

Once Halmek has made his way upstairs, the foppish gentleman who has been standing at the bar approaches the table and smiles through a full set of lips. “Good evening gentlemen,” he says in a heavy Bretonnian accent. “I cannot ‘elp over’earing, you travel to Altdorf too, yes? I ‘ave not been to there before, I am liking to know, if you can tell me, ‘ow is it?”

[Madhand]

Doramar can only laugh at Otto's question, though it is not a particularly lighthearted one.

"Ask anyone in this inn the difference beween a dark wizard and an Imperial one, I imagine the only difference is that they're not allowed to burn me. The College saved my life, by I live on a knife's edge, if anyone were ever to steal this," here Doramar throws his license on the table, "they'd be after my blood in an instant."

Doramar then snatches his license back off the table, the very act reaffirming his point. Doramar hears the offer for the coach and winces.

"That price is too high for me I'm afraid."

[Athaleon]

"Hmm. That's a shame. Thank you anyways."

Thelios is now considering the exorbitant price for the coach. He decides to take a look around outside beforehand, though. There was no other safe place to spend the night, that he had seen, and the odds were not terribly poor that the thieving scum was hiding in the stable.

[DrK]

As Wolfgang counts the money for the beer he curses silently to all the Gods. 6 crowns stare back, not 7 plus some silver shillings of little note.

Joining the others he shrugs sadly, "7 is too many for me as well, shameful to admit. If they are more in their cups later we can see if we can negotiate a new price."

As the drunken Breton approaches Wolgang stares coldly, the strange people to the south worshipping faeries. "Its Is well I believe"

[slugboy_73]

This is my first trip to the capital too. I'm afraid I can't give you any insight.

[Jabas]

Thelios slips through the door and into the courtyard; the storm has worsened and the rain strikes the cobbled yard with such ferocity that it threatens to chip away at the stone. The coach stands unattended with a tarpaulin draped across the top to shield it from the deluge, the stable boys having finished unharnessing the horses and putting them to bed. The boys have retreated to the shelter of one of the stables, where a table and a candle have been set up, and are playing a card game.

Thelios skulks around the courtyard, examining the stables and outhouses, but finds to trace of his quarry. Unless he were hiding in one of the buildings, the driving rain and wind would make it extremely difficult to track anyone right now, even for the most skilled outdoorsman.

In the warmth of the inn, the Bretonnian fellow is not dissuaded by the group’s indifference. “It will be the first time for me in Altdorf too,” he repeats. “But I am a little worried, no? It is seeming that the drivers of our coach might be a little – ‘ow you say it – worst of wear, in the morning!”

[Athaleon]

With a dejected sigh, Thelios returns to the inn. Discarding the now soaked bit of oilcloth he used to keep the worst of the rain off himself, he returns to the inn. He's at a loss as to what to do next - The loss of most of his coinage meant he was unable to afford the coach that some of the others had hired.

[slugboy_73]

Otto glances around at the his fellow party looking dejectedly into small pouches.

Alas, we are not able to get passage on that coach ourselves. Unless we find a way to make some crown quickly we will be walking into Altdor.?

[Jabas]

Finding little welcome from the group, the Bretonnian saunters back to his spot at the bar and resumes drinking his wine. Soon after he leaves some coins on the counter, which are snapped up by Gustav, and heads upstairs. Slowly, the bar room clears as the patrons make their way to their beds, the coachmen having to be carried off by Gustav and a member of his staff – a tall, reedy barman with dark eyes and a sour expression.

The next morning brings more rain and the welcoming aroma of breakfast. Gustav has laid on an impressive spread, far too much food for the number of people that find themselves in the common room at eight o’clock. All of the patrons from the previous night are there, with the exception of the coachmen, who have not yet surfaced. Their absence is causing much agitation, particularly from the pretty young noblewoman, who makes several choice promises as to the drivers’ fate if they do not appear soon.

[Athaleon]

Thelios is barely bothered by the drunken coachmen's tardiness; he couldn't pay their exorbitant sum anyways. Actually this might work in his favor, if some of their customers made other arrangements he might be able to catch a ride at a discount.

[DrK]

Watching the agitated young lady Wolfgang murmurs idle thoughts on the free coach parked outside but not too loudly. Then turning to the others hr asks Can any of you drive a coach. The coachmen will ]be in poor spirits today and an opportunity to our avert may save us a couple of crowns?.

A glance to the window and the bleak weather outside is the source of the thought. Wolfgang like walking in rain no more than any other.
thank you Gustav for this fine spread. It is mist generous of you.

[slugboy_73]

Otto

I cannot drive a coach. I am not very skilled in horses, other than following one behind a plow.

[the geekish one]

With a yawn and a stretch Halmek awakes. He throws on his clothes while rubbing tired eyes. Thoroughly disheveled he makes his way down the stairs. His eyes brighten when he sees the food laid out on the table. Quickly he moves to the table and sits down next to Otto.
"And how are you this fine morning?" , he says. Making small talk as he grabs a piece of bread from Otto's plate.

[Madhand]

While Doramar's mood is brightened both by a good night's sleep and a bath, he is still not in a very talkative or particularly good mood. He has a lot of walking ahead of him, and would no doubt have to deal with more than a little unpleasantness before he was once again in the College. He eats in silence not particularly caring about the disposition of the coach drivers.

[slugboy_73]

Otto give Halmek a scowl, turning into a smile. He also note's the mage's foul mood. He thinks to himself.Maybe it's just something with mages. All that knowledge up in their head's, knowing it could turn on you at any time.

He turns to Wolfgang, We could probably give it a shot even without any training. The fair lady over there seem's in a desperate hurry to get going and would probably take whatever came her way. To think that those drivers would neglect their duty like that, what's the state of people these days!

[Athaleon]

"On that note, why don't we go up there and drag them out of bed?" Thelios asks the others, only half-jokingly. "If they're too wasted to drive, we'll do it ourselves and lash them to the horses like sacks of grain."

[DrK]

He turns to Wolfgang, We could probably give it a shot even without any training. The fair lady over there seem's in a desperate hurry to get going and would probably take whatever came her way. To think that those drivers would neglect their duty like that, what's the state of people these days!

Wolfgang smiles back and tilts his hat slighttly before walking over the Bretonnnian damsel. "Fair Lady. You look in need of drivers to control your coach. Could we be of assistance?"