Miklos slunk back a way. He hunted in his back pack and found his old student clothes he used to run around Specularum with when he was truenting with the others. He slipped over the tunic and belted it up. He felt less mage-like and more the nobleman’s son. He didn’t want to stick out too much in this cleric-run town.
“By the way I am looking for Cardia the Elf. Do you know where I could find her?” inquired Ludo.
“We guards are here to protect Threshold, not answer inquiries,” he replied gruffly at first. Then, his mood lightened momentarily. “But, if ye wish to make inquiries of me or my men, ye may have some luck getting answers with the purchase of an ale or two when we be off duty over at the Hook and Hatchet.
At the announcement, Feldard scowled. “Bah! I ain’t handing over my axe to anyone,” The dwarf stated firmly. “If you want, I’ll figure a way to peace tie it.. but I ain’t handing it over.”
Stephan’s jaw was askew at Patch’s proclamation. But instead of objecting, he grabbed a large sack from the Mudlark and stowed his bow and quiver in it. Using the loop from the sack’s drawstring, he hoisted the load over his shoulder.
“Right then, Patch. We’ll keep the arms under control.”
“The name be Sergeant Arthol, and I’m afraid that won’t do. I don’t write the law here. Ye may not like it, but that be the way it is.”
Ludo upon hearing the grizzled veterans statement, sighed “Sir, I am just a hunter, my weapons are of no danger to anyone in town, and I would be more than happy to unstring my bow whilst I am in town.”
“The way it goes is ye give yer name to my scribe Anya here, and she records all yer prohibited weapons. Ye can pick them up over at the Town Hall when ye be ready to leave.” The sergeant’s tone was getting more gruff by the syllable.
Maruc raised an eyebrow. “One moment Feldard.” He stepped right up to the guard, the words ‘clerical court’ sounded interesting. He stood a moment allowing the guard to take in his clerical garb. “Are you about to disarm my guard? Do you know whom you seek to stop in their god given duty? Who are you to stand in the way of a servant of the Lord Halav?”
Not used to having his orders questioned, Arthol was quickly losing his patience. “Father, if what ye say is true, then ye should know that these rules are enforced by decree of Patriarch Sherlane himself.”
“I will hear none of your petty excuses!” responded Maruc. “Take me at once to your High Priest, and we shall see what their holinesses have to say about your conduct!”
“Very well then!” said Arthol, now angry. He whistled loudly to summon the eight guards posted at the docks. “We can take ye to the Clerical Court at once, but first, ye’ll be handing over those weapons!”