[nubz]

funny how that one works out, huh? i'm skipping the background, you got in two fights, sold some stuff, have your sword Fang, a claw type thing on your swordarm, two javelins, some lamp oil, 11 gold, 6 silvers, and 8 coppers.

Youre in the elven city, its a few hours after sunrise, in the general store. I'll just write what i have to, jump in any time before, during, or after anything you feel. Ive got the little narrator type squire dude for you to interact with and it wont change the flow any. Unless it changes the flow enormously, in which case i come up with something different. Dont do that to me or i'll have you on a quest to rid the apple orchard of blackbirds. (unless its legit . . . you know what i mean)

So, you finish your barter with the funny looking prissy elf man, and he's looking for an impolite way to tell you to get the hell out and never come back when you hear a bell. Its a gentle note, hanging softly in the air, like the church bell some of the human deities seem so fond of, but more, well, elflike (musically magical, or maybe magically musical). Your little squire boy nearly jumps out of his pants. "Oh, Oh! Thats, uhh, oh, wait." He looks at you for a second, hand on his hilt. "Umm, its the guardsummons. I'm supposed to answer it, but they told me to not leave your side no matter what." In a heartbeat the master plan comes to him. "I know, come with me!" Without really waiting for an answer, he grabs your wrist, dragging you along with him at a full sprint across the suspension bridges. Cross one, up another, then wrapping around a tree that seems freakishly huge like a spiral staircase - maybe thirty or more arms breadths around (the average big one only about twenty or so). A small archway curtained in silvery silken threads is at the top - and bursting through it you find yourself in a dimly lit auditorium. You barely come to a stop at the banister that wraps around the outside perimeter before going headlong into the middle.


Taking a look around, its too dark to see the other figures standing along the edge (but they're elves, the can see you just fine, slightly panting as you are). The nearest are clearly guards, shortbow and quiver strapped to their hips, rapiers across their backs, in elf type armour. Oh yeah, they're staring at you. *rolling* damn. The outer rim of spectators fills quickly, and a hush falls over everyone as a skylight opens up, and the center dais is lit up. Its a circular platform, maybe twenty feet across, with five steps ringing it. the platform itself is maybe eight feet lower than what youre standing on. circling the base of the platform are seated figures, older looking elves, likely the council members. wow, you snuck in to their meeting.

In the center of attention, you see a slightly balding elf, later in his years, with short-trimmed hair and a look that could peel the bark from a tree. He begins barking out something in his natural tongue, and though it has the melodic lilt everyone knows and loves, he somehow makes it sound angry and bossy. For some reason the squire feels the need to translate word for word.

dont feel like typing in allcaps, but hes yelling this whole thing. i'll add in the squires smartass comments because i feel like it.

"ATTENNNNNTION! WE HAVE A PROBLEM! Three dead ogres have washed up on the southern shore in as many days. This can only mean one thing. Trouble. (hehe way to state the obvious) Nothing like this has happened as long as I can remember, and the respected members of this council have nothing reasonable to suggest as to what this may mean. SO! It is now a matter for ME to deal with. Its below me, so YOU deal with it." He throws in the obligatory pause for everyone to mutter a wise crack to their neighbours, and a general murmur of whispers and chuckles ensues. "I'll pretend I didn't hear that. NOW! I need recon. You know what to do. I'm placing everyone on standby. I will not ask for volunteers, I won't demand service, or send out any extra search parties. WHY? Because, until proven otherwise, this is not a threat. Hell, they're all dead, what do I care if a dozen of the fat bastards wash up? Long as the smell doesn't ruin my breakfast, I couldn't care less! (that man and his breakfast, I could tell you stories) BUT, I know my men. Never a lackwit in MY army. SO, why don't we cut the chit-chat? I need answers. One of you will bring me answers. Not stories, PROOF! If i wanted stories, I'd be knitting doilies with the old widows." the crowd laughs, except the council members. old people dont laugh at jokes at their expense. The crowd settles, and the commander stands silently. And stands. The awkward silence is just getting to that nervous stage when he finally continues, "WELL? What're you doing here? This is a council meeting, and unless youre a council member, I think there's something you should be doing ELSEWHERE!

And, the squire near rips your arm out of its socket in his rush to be the first one out, back down the spiralling walkway, across a bridge, and into what looks like a tavern built by women. (starbucks hehe. damn prissy elves)