Hmm... What would you guys think of...

The huntsman smiles back at the wench. " jus some bread, cheese an a bit o warm mead to take the chill of ifn you dont mind good lady".

he looks around some more after the serving wench left for the kitchen. the people for the most part seemed run of the mill locals, except for one table where a hulking half-orc sat gnawing on a piece of meat and a young lady that look very uncomfortable at the moment. there is also a third man there that he is unsure what to make of. he watches the to men with thier backs to him and studies the young ladies face trying to decide what is destressing her, the mens company, this place or something else.

 

Kestrel shifted her weight from one side to the other, chewing on her bottom lip. She hated being trapped in a room with so many people and so few exits.

Instinctively she reached under her cloak and was reassured by the cold studs in her armor and the smooth handle of the dagger she stowed in a hip sheath. Exhaling slowly, she drew one leg up to her chin and rested her head upon it, feeling a little more in control of her situation. Ironically, an outsider would see her as anything but--her small, lithe body looked almost childlike in this position. She was tall for a halfling, but still very small.

The tavern was filling up; she noted that she hadn't been in a room with this many people since she left her home. And she sure as oblivion didn't miss that.

She was uncomfortably aware of the silence that was hanging over the two civilized (most civilized) people at the table: herself, and the guy with the coat. She swilled her tea in the cup and sighed, trying to ignore the awkward air hanging about the place. No use.

She took a sip of her tea and set the cup down a little harder than she intended to, causing the lukewarm tea to splash at the coat-guy. "Um, sorry," she said lamely, making eye contact with him for the first time.

 

"Thats ok shorty," he replied "I grew up on the streets of Verbobonc so I might look alittle rough, but then I spent a few years in a monastry off to the west before traveling and meeting Thorg here. He's been an interesting companion although he once carved my staff into a spear which wasn't very helpful. Well anyway I'm getting sleepy, I'm going rent a room, I might see you in the morning."

With that he got up and made the nessary arrangements with the innkeeper, including allowing for Thorg to sleep by the fire out of earshot of the other guests, and retired upstairs.

 

the wench returns with a small plate of cheese and bread along with his mead. he reaches into his pouch pulls out the first coin he feels glances at it and tosses it to her telling her to keep it. he sips at the warm meed as he nibbles on his food still watching the trio.

gathering his damp hair togeather pulling the water out of it before letting it fall over the back of the chair as he slides down in it. a careful observer might have noticed the slight point to his ears, maybe.

he watches the one head to bed as he scoops the remaining bread and chees into a small leather back for later and downs the last of the mead. he props his feet up on the chair across from him as lowers his head and eye lids appearing to doze off in the chair.

 

((wow two stickied threads. I'm on a roll ))

 

Kestrel sighed heavily and absently ran her finger over the shining white scar on her eye. She shook her hair into her face and did her best to look composed. She was hating her situation right now; she was more than capable of being on her own, but for some reason, she was feeling vulnerable.

She accepted a tea and continued to eye Thog warily. She glanced longingly at the stairs leading up, but knew that she wasn't going to be able to sleep anyway. She pushed her tea away from her and slid off of her bench to her feet. She ducked behind Thog and weaved through the tall people, exiting the tavern into the rainy night.

((So anyway, while I was supposed to be doing something more important, I drew a quick sketch of Kestrel. I am not an artist by any means; I have no eye for proportions and whatnot, but anyway :


Then I decided I didn't like the way she looked in that, and while I was filling out a college application, I doodled this:



I think she looks more like an elf than a halfling there, but whatever. I know they're not exactly masterpieces, but it should give you an idea of what she looks like (and how short my attention span is.) ))

 

(Nice sketchwork. )

 

after seeing the halfling slip out into the rain TaArryn quietly gathers up his bow and quiver doning them. in two quick steps he his at the door his rain cape being draped over his shoulders as he ducks out into the night.

after taking a couple of steps to get away from the light he stops and allows his eyes to readjust the darkness. in a few seconds he sees in the dark as well as a human sees in the day. glancing around he seeing the young halfing lass. a few long steps bring him up to her.

"hello there lass, you looked a wee bit uncomfortable in there. wasnt a bit surprised to see ye dart out like that. do ye need help wit anything id be more then glad to lend o hand ifn ye be needin it ." he smiles down at her and thinks its a bit odd for him to have to look down since being only 5'6 means he usally has to look up at the towering humans around him.

 

Out of the night and storm black sky, there comes a sound like-yet-unlike thunder. A featureless shape impossibly large swims through the air, and fire pours down.

The fire washes over the dockside warehouses, sending a half dozen geysers of flame sizzling back into the night. The dark shape, huge, cloaked in clouds and rain, rises back up and away into the storm. The fires blaze and begin to spread East and West. To the West are the great merchant houses; to the East is the brewery, with its highly explosive contents. For just an instant, the night is silent save for the sounds of fire and rain.

 

Silhouetted against the firey skyline stands a figure on the roof top going through a series of fluid motions with a pair of long blades. he stands half naked and is dripping with rain but that doesn't seem to bother him.

with a quick leap he jumps to the ground like it was only a few feet and runs to the door of the inn.

"Thorg! we've got trouble, hurry up and follow me!" he yells through the door
with that he turns and runs to the west.
"Are you two just going to stand their with your mouths hanging open or are you coming along?" he shouts back at Kestrel and TaArryn as he runs down the road.