Ludo stopped working – this would take some time. He heard some voices shouting from the front of the Inn. Hasan and Stephen should be ok, he thought, still it wouldn’t hurt to check up on them. He slipped back into the shadows, and clambered over a wall which separated the Inn’s backyard to a neighboring building. Drawing a dagger and staying in the shadows he made his way back to the street and came up behind a group of men that seemed to be surrounding Feldard. Oh my goodness this is dangerous he thought, the poor fools, don’t they realize that Feldard doesn’t like being threatened.
At the stevedores’ movements to surround him, Feldard took a solid stance. “I have no quarrel with you and your men. Think before you act rashly.” The dwarfs arms crossed as he spoke. “I seek a man in yellow robes. Have you seen the man or not?”
Stephan maneuvered to give Feldard some space should that ax–or whatever weapon he could muster–come out. He also practiced his battle breathing to ready his nerves and sinew for a fight. This had a calming effect on him–banishing any inkling of panic and providing clarity in an otherwise chaotic melee.
Stephan leveled his eyes with one of the bruter-looking stevedores. He could feels his confidence welling and expected that the man could see it in his eyes. ‘These pathetic dock workers don’t know what a real fight is. Or what I can do with a blade in my hands.’, he thought to himself.
His gaze fixed on another of the stevedores. This time, the subject of his stare was clearly shaky. The youngish man could not lock eyes with Stephan and shot nervous glances to his mates.
But Stephan kept a battle eye on Feldard so that if things got rowdy, the two would be well positioned to back each other up.
The stevedores were unarmed, for the most part. A couple of them carried knives, but they were more suited to cutting rope than to battle.
“They have surrounded Feldard,” hissed Miklos.
“We need to wait,” said Maruc, calmly. But the cleric’s pale face fell as he saw Hasan’s eyes close, hands beginning to shape confident glyphs in the space surrounding the elf. With a final, soft utterance — “Ichasa” — the elf released the gathered forces toward the group surrounding Feldard. Miklos clucked, as he saw he saw all of the men crumple.
Others working along the wharf began to notice the commotion. A crowd would be gathering soon, and when the stevedores woke up, they would no doubt want to report the flagrant breaking of town law to the authorities.