Café de Nuit

Renn curses when he sees Sevet slumped atop his horse. He rides over to his scout in time to see Foerde heal him.

He nods a gruding thanks to the beastman and then dismounts, nocking another arrow. "They're still out there, little bastards," he says to Sevet. "Keep your heads low and your eyes peeled."

PENCHALLIN

Roald looms over the prostrate creature, his boot still on it's chest with just enough pressure to keep it down without interfering with it's breathing, much.

"So you know how speak knife-ear, eh?" He says to himself in his native language. Then in the Elvish tongue. "Where did you learn elf-speak?"

Varrus the Ethical wrote:PENCHALLIN

Roald looms over the prostrate creature, his boot still on it's chest with just enough pressure to keep it down without interfering with it's breathing, much.

"So you know how speak knife-ear, eh?" He says to himself in his native language. Then in the Elvish tongue. "Where did you learn elf-speak?"

The little snouted creature replies in accented elf-speak,
'' I learned in the mines. The elves made me and my mates dig, dig, dig for ore. But we are too smart. We dug out. Now nobody bosses us! We are robbers. Give us your four-legs!''

ewancummins wrote: The little snouted creature replies in accentedelf-speak[/color],
'' I learned in the mines. The elves made me and my mates dig, dig, dig for ore. But we are too smart. We dug out. Now nobody bosses us! We are robbers. Give us your four-legs!''

"Four-legs? Boring. I want to know more about this elf-mine," Roald says, adding a small amount of weight to the boot on the creature's chest. "Where?"

Varrus the Ethical wrote:

ewancummins wrote: The little snouted creature replies in accentedelf-speak[/color],
'' I learned in the mines. The elves made me and my mates dig, dig, dig for ore. But we are too smart. We dug out. Now nobody bosses us! We are robbers. Give us your four-legs!''

"Four-legs? Boring. I want to know more about this elf-mine," Roald says, adding a small amount of weight to the boot on the creature's chest. "Where?"

"'Eek! Don't squish me! I'll show you the hole."

Cormac, seeing that the danger has passed in the short term, signals for Ned to keep watch and for Hob to go retrieve the mule, before walking over to the interrogation.

"Well, ain't that somethin'" Cormac says in Common, "Nice of these little blighters to come along and show us to their front door, eh?"

He smiles down at the Knocker, flashing his yellow teeth and making sure his bow and arrow stays in its line of sight. "The knife ears in the mine," he says in Elven, "Ye ever see one that looked...strange. Mutated." He gives a rough description of the Man Slayer.

Adam wrote:Cormac, seeing that the danger has passed in the short term, signals for Ned to keep watch and for Hob to go retrieve the mule, before walking over to the interrogation.

"Well, ain't that somethin'" Cormac says in Common, "Nice of these little blighters to come along and show us to their front door, eh?"

He smiles down at the Knocker, flashing his yellow teeth and making sure his bow and arrow stays in its line of sight. "The knife ears in the mine," he says in Elven, "Ye ever see one that looked...strange. Mutated." He gives a rough description of the Man Slayer.

The little russet bandit squeals and wriggles.
''No, no no!' it says in Elvish.

PENCHALLIN

Roald eases the pressure on the creature's chest, but the tips of his sword remains hover near its throat. "The hole you mentioned. It's filled with traps, isn't it? Don't lie, I've heard the ways of your kind."

Cormac frowns, disappointed at the lack of confirmation of their supposed enemy's presence.

"How many of them are there?" he growls.

Adam wrote:Cormac frowns, disappointed at the lack of confirmation of their supposed enemy's presence.

"How many of them are there?" he growls.

Cormac's diminutive prisoner answers in a pidgin of Elvish, Anuirean, and something else-

''Many Elves! Cruel masters!''
It gestures towards the Seamist mountains.
''Manslayer, Manslayer!'

Varrus the Ethical wrote:PENCHALLIN

Roald eases the pressure on the creature's chest, but the tips of his sword remains hover near its throat. "The hole you mentioned. It's filled with traps, isn't it? Don't lie, I've heard the ways of your kind."

VIEW CONTENT:

OOC: Roald's still speaking elvish. Changed color to be easier to read.

Roald's prisoner says,
''Our traps are the best.''

Cormac looks around at the other party members and shrugs.

"Well, suppose we should check it out?"

GARDEN OF DARKLING DELIGHTS

Filbert tries to communicate with the surly Halfling, dodging the stones the stranger hurls at him.
Safana gawks at the huge green child that has risen from the pool.

Devlin moves to protect the Khinasi woman. His chaplain, Father Michael, rallies to his duke's side, drawing a rapier.


Hands seize Filbert's arms and legs, and drag the surprised halfing into the bushes.

Two ladies in lace gowns and grotesque masks leap from the shadows of the pool house and land on the green giant's back, biting and scratching.

Devlin turns, but too late to dodge the robed man who tackles him, slamming him hard against one of the pool house pillars.

Two more lean figures, also clad in antique finery and wearing ball masks, close in on Safana and Father Michael, striking barehanded and biting like lunatics!

PECHALLIN

Renn nods in agreement with Cormac. "Beats the hell out of staying here."

He gives the pitiful creature writhing under Roald's boot a look of disinterest. "Done playing with your food?"

Safana gives a cry of alarm, blind sided by the attacking figures as she concentrates on the wierd green giant. She stumbles backwards, trying to open enough distance to cast a spell, murmuring in a rapid rhythm, building in both speed and volume as fire begins to curl between her fingers, lurid and bright in the dim garden. It send glimmers across the water still clinging to her sleek skin and glitters on the deep black wristband she is wearing.