The dwarf scowled at the insults to Maruc and the Halav faith. “Well it seems your wisdom is as boundless,” the words said dripping with sarcasm, “as your town’s hospitality.” Feldard commented. “Since our presence is so disturbing, we will do our best to make our visit in your town brief. Just direct me to a weaponsmith where I can purchase a sword for defense, since your rules deny me access to my axe.”
Stephan gulped a little too loudly. He still wished to be way out of this place. He imagined walking into the Black Jug Tavern and ordering a dark, woody brew. He loved the small of ale in his beard and was often purposefully sloppy while drinking just so he could wear the stuff as a sort of cologne. He’d have at least four steins if he could. He’d….
The woodsman snapped back to attention and the reality of his situation weighed heavy on his brow. The chambre was still echoing, at that moment, with Feldard’s final word “axe!”. The dwarf stood defiantly before the town leaders. Stephan still wished to be a mouse and skirt out that window Ludo seemed to have claimed.
“Dwarf,” responded the elder priest. “Your hotheaded temperament is typical of your race, so I will excuse your outburst at this time.”
“Peace! My friends peace!” cried Maruc, quickly trying to cut off another angry retort from Feldard. “Patriarch Sherlane is wise and his views in his own citadel are sacrosanct. If his representative wishes us to leave, then leave we shall. But, remember he has yet to decide. We have laid weighty matters before him. Doubt not the chosen of Halav for the will of Halav will guide him as he has guided me. I believe he will aid us for he will not wish to serve the evil that we chase.”
Maruc turned to look into the eyes of the old man in open honesty and absolute trust. “He reminds us of our humility and that we must be careful of the power we tackle. He is farsighted and may be being mindful of our safety. And what lord would wish trouble within his walls?” Maruc’s level gaze bored into the keen eyes of the patriarch. “But equally his Holiness knows his best chance of swiftly resolving this problem lies with those most steeped in the knowledge of his enemies. He can see into our hearts and he knows we are true. He alone knows we are steadfast in our pursuit of evil. He will not stand in our way for to do so would be against the will of Halav. He already knows the name of the man we seek. Do you not Holiness? Also His holiness knows my rank and refuses to use it, still for his insults against my order I have not judged him for the matter we pursue is beyond petty bickering.”
Miklos was a little unnerved that Maruc had assumed that the Patriarch and his court was aware of Golthar, because it presumed that Sherlane had done nothing about it. For all the others blustering defense of Maruc, Maruc’s words had a edge of steel to them that Miklos had not heard before. He had at once dismissed the rude interpretation of Marucs’ order and maintained the moral highground whilst subtly slighting the old man in the process. Miklos started to wonder what sort of a man Maruc was. Either way he had laid down the gauntlet, the question was the court elder foresighted or blind?
The look on the Curate’s face was not promising. He had been regarding Maruc with some curiosity, but was clearly not taking him very seriously.
Ludo inwardly fumed. The pompous fools! Stepping forward he approached the Court Elder. ‘My Lord, you imply that we intend to take action and violence against this evil mage, however we came to warn you of the danger. What action you take is of course up to you, not us. This mage is evil and he has many spies, some of which ‘could’ be here in this very room. He has murdered and led people into slavery. He has united goblin tribes to invade Duke Stephen’s lands, and murdered his subjects. My friends and I risked our lives to bring you this information, and the reply from you is to evict us from town. I would suggest a prudent course of action is to ask us for his name and his description and then to bring him here for questioning. We have broken no town laws, we have not caused any disturbance within these walls, all we asked for was an audience with the leaders of the town, so they can be made aware of the danger…”
“Enough,” the Curate banged his gavel. “As thee hath not broken any laws, and have agreed to comply with the weapons ordinance, I hereby grant thee access to the town proper forthwith. If I see thee before this court again, I shall be less kind, as thou hast already taken up quite enough of the court’s time. Sergeant Arthol, I trust thee well to keep track of this crew whilst they remain within our gates and be on watch for this supposed yellow-robed warlock of which they speak. This matter is now dismissed.”
The sergeant rolled his eyes and grunted as the gavel was banged again. “Back to our posts men,” commanded the sergeant, leading his men out of the court. “Our shift will be over soon and we’ll be back at the Hook and Hatchet before ye know it.”