The sounds of a few dozen voices haggling over things like quality or prices was loud enough to even drown out the sounds of the horse-drawn carriages that occasionally made their way down the cobblestone streets. Birds moved to and from the nearby sea, fishing along the coast, or stealing a few pieces of bread from the markets.
Stalls lined up both sides of the streets. Behind them were buildings, shops and offices set to profit along Halle's northern waterfront. All sorts of goods were on display, sold by a diverse array of people.
A lone goblin pushed his way through the dense crowd of people, sort of rudely. A piece of fruit caught his eye.
"How much?" the green-skinned, orange-haired militiaman asked the chubby merchant ogre.
"It's uh, two coins."
"No. One coin."
The merchant nodded coyly and smirked. He held out his hand, ready to accept a single piece of copper.
Obel snatched the fruit and nibbled on it quickly. He had just finished a guard shift at one of the outpost's towers. He was an infantryman, the rank of corporal was worn on his shoulder. He was wearing black pants and the smock-like green tunic that made up his battalion's duty uniform.
The reason he was so hungry was that anxiety had been eating at him all day. Rumors about skirmishes on an island had begun to spread throughout the camp.
Militiamen like Obel had reason to be concerned, namely because of the tall ships that lined the many docks off the Hallean coast. The units were all prepared to launch by ship, at a moment's notice.
Of course, the King they knew would be giving diplomacy a full swing.
But for now, the little goblin was free to wander from Market Street, right across to the Rosebind Inn & Tavern. The building was surrounded by a short, stone wall. It was built on the site of a former armory. The styling was classical medieval, some would describe it as some elven mix of far off Tudor or Bavarian style.
At one point in Halle's history, the indigenous people used this building to make a heroic stand. Archers formerly took up views from the two towers that flanked the narrow entryway into the bar. Now rooms for rent stood in at the tower's tops, as well as the tavern's second floor.
Between the gate and the tavern was a courtyard where patrons were free to wander with their drinks, explore and even lounge in long chairs.
Inside, the vibe was tense. Obel hated the way he had to skirt through the crowd, just to get a drink. When he finally made it past the array of sailors, traders and mercenaries he slammed a few coins on the table. "Berry Grog Ale." Some people just called it a B.G.A..
The barmaid looked down at him with a grin. She flirted with him sometimes, for a tip. But she was too busy on this lazy afternoon. After a few minutes, she brought the dark, malty drink to the inpatient creature. "Here you go."
Obel took it and sipped, moving away from the L-shaped counter and back into the large area of the bar floor. There were tables along the sides, giving diners a view of the courtyard's garden's through large windows. But a good deal of guests stood in the ample space in the center of the building.
There used to be tables here, but there had been too many fights and the manager stopped replacing damaged furniture. Now it became a place for people to mill about.
Obel zoned out and tried to focus on his ale.
Stalls lined up both sides of the streets. Behind them were buildings, shops and offices set to profit along Halle's northern waterfront. All sorts of goods were on display, sold by a diverse array of people.
A lone goblin pushed his way through the dense crowd of people, sort of rudely. A piece of fruit caught his eye.
"How much?" the green-skinned, orange-haired militiaman asked the chubby merchant ogre.
"It's uh, two coins."
"No. One coin."
The merchant nodded coyly and smirked. He held out his hand, ready to accept a single piece of copper.
Obel snatched the fruit and nibbled on it quickly. He had just finished a guard shift at one of the outpost's towers. He was an infantryman, the rank of corporal was worn on his shoulder. He was wearing black pants and the smock-like green tunic that made up his battalion's duty uniform.
The reason he was so hungry was that anxiety had been eating at him all day. Rumors about skirmishes on an island had begun to spread throughout the camp.
Militiamen like Obel had reason to be concerned, namely because of the tall ships that lined the many docks off the Hallean coast. The units were all prepared to launch by ship, at a moment's notice.
Of course, the King they knew would be giving diplomacy a full swing.
But for now, the little goblin was free to wander from Market Street, right across to the Rosebind Inn & Tavern. The building was surrounded by a short, stone wall. It was built on the site of a former armory. The styling was classical medieval, some would describe it as some elven mix of far off Tudor or Bavarian style.
At one point in Halle's history, the indigenous people used this building to make a heroic stand. Archers formerly took up views from the two towers that flanked the narrow entryway into the bar. Now rooms for rent stood in at the tower's tops, as well as the tavern's second floor.
Between the gate and the tavern was a courtyard where patrons were free to wander with their drinks, explore and even lounge in long chairs.
Inside, the vibe was tense. Obel hated the way he had to skirt through the crowd, just to get a drink. When he finally made it past the array of sailors, traders and mercenaries he slammed a few coins on the table. "Berry Grog Ale." Some people just called it a B.G.A..
The barmaid looked down at him with a grin. She flirted with him sometimes, for a tip. But she was too busy on this lazy afternoon. After a few minutes, she brought the dark, malty drink to the inpatient creature. "Here you go."
Obel took it and sipped, moving away from the L-shaped counter and back into the large area of the bar floor. There were tables along the sides, giving diners a view of the courtyard's garden's through large windows. But a good deal of guests stood in the ample space in the center of the building.
There used to be tables here, but there had been too many fights and the manager stopped replacing damaged furniture. Now it became a place for people to mill about.
Obel zoned out and tried to focus on his ale.
the courtyard was quite beautiful this time of year, and thus it seemed like a good spot for the blue bard to relax and gain some inspiration about his next ballad. Aearion had only just arrived in Halle, but so far it seemed nice, if not a bit heavy on soldiers. He suspected something was going on. At this thought, a bard who was clever would have left, but Aearion's curious soul is a burden sometimes.
At this point, he was not drawing much attention to himself. He pulled at a few strings on his lute and hummed some words in Aquan, trying to get a song out of it. The fresh air certainly helped with his mood.
At this point, he was not drawing much attention to himself. He pulled at a few strings on his lute and hummed some words in Aquan, trying to get a song out of it. The fresh air certainly helped with his mood.
Costanza’s form waddled through the streets, a chest plate extended outwards on her small body. Dark blue lines marked the otherwise faintly grey ruffles of her shirt and pants. A piece of parchment was secured with leather, hanging high upon the chest plate so others could see it easily. A group of pouches hung from her belt, and a trident leaned against her shoulder as she walked, a crudely drawn coin on the parchment that covered its front and back. The sun beats down on her white feathered hat, her darker locks curled around its base in the neatest of manners.
Her cheeks were rosy from the long walk to the tavern, her free hand drawing a pink cloth from her pants’ pocket to dab at her forehead. She pushes past people in the street, nearing the tavern. Pushing the door open, her eyes scan over those inside, moving to stand a little taller than the nearby goblin. Taking a deep breath, she lets the air escape her lips before she speaks, “Do you have any peaches, or pears? I would like a bowl of them, if you do.” A clean smell, despite the heat, followed the small toll keeper.
Her cheeks were rosy from the long walk to the tavern, her free hand drawing a pink cloth from her pants’ pocket to dab at her forehead. She pushes past people in the street, nearing the tavern. Pushing the door open, her eyes scan over those inside, moving to stand a little taller than the nearby goblin. Taking a deep breath, she lets the air escape her lips before she speaks, “Do you have any peaches, or pears? I would like a bowl of them, if you do.” A clean smell, despite the heat, followed the small toll keeper.
One thing the foreign investors provided the militia was food. Ships brought all sorts of food, including local fish and delights shipped from the King's Empire.
Each battalion had its own dining hall by their barracks row. Various restaurants and taverns supplemented the typical soldier's menu.
Fruit was something that the bar always had in large supply, using it to flavor fermented drinks or to make brandy outright.
An older, matronly barmaid smiled at the order. "Sure thing."
Obel's ears perked up at the sound of fruit. The goblin physiology craved natural sugars. He watched Elza, the senior barkeep, walk to the back where fruit was kept. The little corporal had just made his way back to the bar to refill his ale.
He turned his attention to the newcomer. She was a keeper of the tolls. He wondered what post.
Halle was the name of the entire city state, which stretched for hundreds of miles. Most of the countryside was farmlands and orchards. Toll guards could be posted anywhere.
Obel was an infantryman. A short sword was holstered at his side. Back at his barrack's armory was a selection of light armor and shields. But his unit was 'light infantry.' They wore a helmet and shield on duty, with pikemen and swordsmen making up the brunt of his company.
The goblin took a deep chug of the ale as Elza brought out a bowl of fresh peaches and pairs. "No fee, this time."
Elza hurried off to another customer.
"Peaches", Obel said, making eye contact with the toll guard. The expression on his face read as way more smug than it was. There was a friendly glint in his eye. "You like peaches? Go to officer's row. They have trees." Of course, one should not get caught stealing the officer's fruit.
His voice was a little scratchy and his words were simple, but goblins knew where to find good fruit.
Each battalion had its own dining hall by their barracks row. Various restaurants and taverns supplemented the typical soldier's menu.
Fruit was something that the bar always had in large supply, using it to flavor fermented drinks or to make brandy outright.
An older, matronly barmaid smiled at the order. "Sure thing."
Obel's ears perked up at the sound of fruit. The goblin physiology craved natural sugars. He watched Elza, the senior barkeep, walk to the back where fruit was kept. The little corporal had just made his way back to the bar to refill his ale.
He turned his attention to the newcomer. She was a keeper of the tolls. He wondered what post.
Halle was the name of the entire city state, which stretched for hundreds of miles. Most of the countryside was farmlands and orchards. Toll guards could be posted anywhere.
Obel was an infantryman. A short sword was holstered at his side. Back at his barrack's armory was a selection of light armor and shields. But his unit was 'light infantry.' They wore a helmet and shield on duty, with pikemen and swordsmen making up the brunt of his company.
The goblin took a deep chug of the ale as Elza brought out a bowl of fresh peaches and pairs. "No fee, this time."
Elza hurried off to another customer.
"Peaches", Obel said, making eye contact with the toll guard. The expression on his face read as way more smug than it was. There was a friendly glint in his eye. "You like peaches? Go to officer's row. They have trees." Of course, one should not get caught stealing the officer's fruit.
His voice was a little scratchy and his words were simple, but goblins knew where to find good fruit.
The toll keeper watched the barmaid go about her business, her gaze drifting towards her own nails, finely trimmed and clean. She then pulled at her ruffled shirt sleeve, before she abruptly looked up towards the goblin, looking him up and down, “I do like them, but I must see to the south road before my shift is over.” Taking a glance between the goblin and the barmaiden, before settling upon the goblin, “You are dressed like a common foot soldier, but you are in a position of power. Are you, perhaps, a general?”
"General, ha! I wish." Obel leaned forward, resting his small arms on the counter. "I'm a Corporal. I lead a team. Just a simple foot soldier."
Militia infantry was an inglorious business. They were not as well trained as Imperial Soldiers from the King's Empire. They were seen as scrappers and brawlers, although they disagreed with that assessment.
"My unit works with the artillery... Their watch.", he paused, turning his gaze down at his drink. "The South Road, hmm? Sometimes I go there to watch the Ox carts come in. Those gates get busy. Anything interesting happen recently?"
His eyes widened... "Gossip?"
Militia infantry was an inglorious business. They were not as well trained as Imperial Soldiers from the King's Empire. They were seen as scrappers and brawlers, although they disagreed with that assessment.
"My unit works with the artillery... Their watch.", he paused, turning his gaze down at his drink. "The South Road, hmm? Sometimes I go there to watch the Ox carts come in. Those gates get busy. Anything interesting happen recently?"
His eyes widened... "Gossip?"
A man had been riding into Halle from east. The man was clad in full plate armor, his barbute-style helm hiding his facial features. There was no form of identification on his person. No sigil, no coat of arms
arms on his shield, nothing. Of course the shield was currently slung over his shoulders, and the mans long-sword at his hip. He rode slightly unsteadily, and it was apparent that he was only using one hand to hold the reins, the other being used to clutch at his gut.
The closer the man got to the gate it became more and more obvious that he was not in the best of health, and that was putting it rather mildly. Across the lower portion of the mans breastplate there was a large gash in the metal itself, suggesting that a terribly powerful blow had torn right through the armor and into the mans stomach. By the time he had reached the front gate the armored man was swaying in the saddle precariously, as if about to fall off.
After he passed through the gate, his horse only took a few more steps before the armored man fell out of the saddle and crashed to the ground in an unmoving heap.
arms on his shield, nothing. Of course the shield was currently slung over his shoulders, and the mans long-sword at his hip. He rode slightly unsteadily, and it was apparent that he was only using one hand to hold the reins, the other being used to clutch at his gut.
The closer the man got to the gate it became more and more obvious that he was not in the best of health, and that was putting it rather mildly. Across the lower portion of the mans breastplate there was a large gash in the metal itself, suggesting that a terribly powerful blow had torn right through the armor and into the mans stomach. By the time he had reached the front gate the armored man was swaying in the saddle precariously, as if about to fall off.
After he passed through the gate, his horse only took a few more steps before the armored man fell out of the saddle and crashed to the ground in an unmoving heap.
It didn't take long before the bard had a rough draft of a new song. Halle seemed favourable towards the Merman's imagination. As his fingers strummed over his decorated lute, he played a strong yet pleasant tune. He allowed the music to course through him and lead his words onward, possibly catching the eye of many. Even inside the tavern as the bard sang with pride.
Once he opened his eyes, he couldn't help but chuckle a bit. He let himself go back there. How easy it was to lose control over your own craft.
The bard stood up eventually and walked inside of the tavern, ready to request some much needed ale and a possible room for tonight.
The waves of the lake splash,
and the pines hum.
The frost of the north hurts,
Human grief it sings.
Woods bleak and stony, unlit,
yet there my mind rests.
There I will forget the pain,
stars and moon will bless us .
O my native land, stand proud, facing the future.
Your were never broken down, banished into the night.
O my native land, stand proud, facing the future,
you will never be broken down."
and the pines hum.
The frost of the north hurts,
Human grief it sings.
Woods bleak and stony, unlit,
yet there my mind rests.
There I will forget the pain,
stars and moon will bless us .
O my native land, stand proud, facing the future.
Your were never broken down, banished into the night.
O my native land, stand proud, facing the future,
you will never be broken down."
Once he opened his eyes, he couldn't help but chuckle a bit. He let himself go back there. How easy it was to lose control over your own craft.
The bard stood up eventually and walked inside of the tavern, ready to request some much needed ale and a possible room for tonight.
The sound of an approaching bell ringing over and over competed with the musician for just a moment. As it got closer, the sound of two horses pulling a carriage could also be heard. But soon, calm returned in the courtyard.
It was an ambulance, speeding to the Eastern gate to help with a casualty. Halle was a dangerous place, especially as you moved away from the military outpost.
Wounded often showed up, having clashed with wild animals or dangerous individuals. Sometimes they were recruited into the militia, if they showed potential.
They would be taken to the nearest facility, in this case probably one of the battalion's aid stations. The casualty was to be treated and assessed.
Obel still kept his focus on the tollkeeper, although the passing ambulance distracted him. He wondered what was going on and where. As the ringing bell faded away, the goblin finally noticed the music.
A few of the patrons stepped outside to listen. In this land, one took entertainment wherever they could find it. It was a rare treat, or it least it had been of late. Things had been all business. It took a lot of work to keep everyone fed and all the gear maintained.
Then, just as soon as it started, the music quieted.
It was an ambulance, speeding to the Eastern gate to help with a casualty. Halle was a dangerous place, especially as you moved away from the military outpost.
Wounded often showed up, having clashed with wild animals or dangerous individuals. Sometimes they were recruited into the militia, if they showed potential.
They would be taken to the nearest facility, in this case probably one of the battalion's aid stations. The casualty was to be treated and assessed.
Obel still kept his focus on the tollkeeper, although the passing ambulance distracted him. He wondered what was going on and where. As the ringing bell faded away, the goblin finally noticed the music.
A few of the patrons stepped outside to listen. In this land, one took entertainment wherever they could find it. It was a rare treat, or it least it had been of late. Things had been all business. It took a lot of work to keep everyone fed and all the gear maintained.
Then, just as soon as it started, the music quieted.
She had only been in Halle for about a week, picking up a room at the local inn and managing to try and find little tid-bits of work here and there. She was normally a wanderer, not staying in places for long as she decided to spend her life seeing the world. Lilly had been passing the Eastern gate, carrying a basket of flowers to take from the fields she was hired to pick to the stand at the market.
She stopped as the gates opened, waiting for who or what ever was coming in to come in, not wanting to be trampled, when the man riding his horse fell off, her eyes instantly landing on the stains of blood around his midsection. "Sir?!" She rushed to his side, setting down her basket and doing her best to roll him on his back, his head ending up in her lap as she checked for signs of breathing and consciousness. Crowds gathered and many began yelling for help which would soon be on its way, the town being fairly decent at response times as gossip spread fast. "Sir please stay awake, help is coming!" The wound looked fairly bad, the bleeding so heavy it must be a deep cut as a shallow one would have began clotting by now.
She stopped as the gates opened, waiting for who or what ever was coming in to come in, not wanting to be trampled, when the man riding his horse fell off, her eyes instantly landing on the stains of blood around his midsection. "Sir?!" She rushed to his side, setting down her basket and doing her best to roll him on his back, his head ending up in her lap as she checked for signs of breathing and consciousness. Crowds gathered and many began yelling for help which would soon be on its way, the town being fairly decent at response times as gossip spread fast. "Sir please stay awake, help is coming!" The wound looked fairly bad, the bleeding so heavy it must be a deep cut as a shallow one would have began clotting by now.
Constanza's lips closed, folded upon each other, "No, I haven't seen anything.." Her eyebrows furrow, but she does look towards the bawd. Her expression lightens, and after the stanza ended, she started to collect the fruit, placing it one of the pouches around her waist, "The roads have been busy. But there was this violent merchant and his two apprentices." Taking the last pear to her lips, she bites into it, chewing in thought. She swallows, shaking her head, "They were strangely armed and walked the road. For a merchant, they traveled light."
The toll keeper looks towards the door, "That is the Eastern gate's bell." To the goblin, "I have to leave." She turns towards the door, walking and eating. Leaning down to discard the pear core on the side of the tavern, after she exited the tavern. Pulling the pink cloth, she dabs it upon her cheeks.
The toll keeper looks towards the door, "That is the Eastern gate's bell." To the goblin, "I have to leave." She turns towards the door, walking and eating. Leaning down to discard the pear core on the side of the tavern, after she exited the tavern. Pulling the pink cloth, she dabs it upon her cheeks.
The Paladin would certainly not be easy to roll over onto his back, the heavy armor that he was wearing adding significant weight, but once he had been rolled over he certainly would stay there. His eyes were open, squinting due to the sun being in his eyes after being rolled over, but they were open. His eyes tried to focus on the woman whom was attempting to help him. If he lived through this he would remember that face. His breathing was shaky at best due to the wound, although it seemed as if he was attempting to keep it steady for his own sake.
The Paladin coughed twice. Each time his body shuddered, still looking up at the woman who was cradling his helmeted head in her lap. "W-what..." He coughed, his speach stopping for a moment. "Is your n-name?"
The Paladin coughed twice. Each time his body shuddered, still looking up at the woman who was cradling his helmeted head in her lap. "W-what..." He coughed, his speach stopping for a moment. "Is your n-name?"
She sighed when he spoke, glad he was alive for the time being, "I am Lilly, but please don't speak, save your strength." Her eyes looked down at his with concern, their purple coloration matching yet contrasting with her fiery red hair. Help was on the way, as she could hear the noise of them as the crowd was slowly parting, people yelling out of the way. Lilly lifted his head, no where near as heavy or hard as rolling him over, his armor so big even though it looks like it was no match against his attacker, doing her best to pull off his large elegant helmet and setting it to her side. She paused for a moment, his face more handsome than she would have originally guessed as his helmet concealed a lot. She brushed his hair away from his face, leaning over a bit to block the sun from hitting his eyes.
The carriage ambulance rolled in front of them both, men hopping down and quickly snatching up the mans body, one boy taking the horse to probably stable it until the man was better. She sat there helpless, unsure of what to do as they raced off to the hospital. She attempted to ask one of the ambulance men a question, but was cut off by the rude man, saying he was too busy for idiotic questions. Before she knew it they raced off, and looking around her she noticed the mans helmet was still on the ground, not having been grabbed by the men. Lilly picked it up, along with her basket of flowers, determined to return it to the man later, figuring he wouldn't be able to have visitors until after they did surgery on him. 'Please live sir..' She mentally said to him, knowing he couldn't hear and that he might not.
The crowd around her had dispersed, the excitement over the injured man having left with him, leaving Lilly to go back to her delivery of flowers to the market, the helmet in her basket, not daring leaving it anywhere. The market was less busy in this hour than it normally was, a good thing to those having to make their way to booths for deliveries. "Here are the flowers, Bea." The short dwarven woman turned to her, smiling as she took the basket from Lilly. Lilly pulled out the helmet, clutching it to her body in prayer from the man.
"Oh what tis dis??" Bea asked, seeing the helmet, "You have present for cute boyfriend?!"
Lilly shook her head, unable to smile at Bea who knew Lilly was single, "No, an injured man came through the Eastern gate, and the ambulance men didn't grab it when they took him away... I'm going to return it to him later, after work. I never even got his name.."
Bea shook her head, "No! You go now! Go make sure he okay and get handsome mans name!" Bea was like this, always the romantic even though she was unwed herself. Lilly attempted to say she would visit him later, but Bea was already pushing her in the direction of the hospital. It would be a bit of a walk from the market to the hospital, but Lilly started on it anyway, her unique dress swaying as she walked down the crowded street, the helmet clutched to her front to protect it.
The carriage ambulance rolled in front of them both, men hopping down and quickly snatching up the mans body, one boy taking the horse to probably stable it until the man was better. She sat there helpless, unsure of what to do as they raced off to the hospital. She attempted to ask one of the ambulance men a question, but was cut off by the rude man, saying he was too busy for idiotic questions. Before she knew it they raced off, and looking around her she noticed the mans helmet was still on the ground, not having been grabbed by the men. Lilly picked it up, along with her basket of flowers, determined to return it to the man later, figuring he wouldn't be able to have visitors until after they did surgery on him. 'Please live sir..' She mentally said to him, knowing he couldn't hear and that he might not.
The crowd around her had dispersed, the excitement over the injured man having left with him, leaving Lilly to go back to her delivery of flowers to the market, the helmet in her basket, not daring leaving it anywhere. The market was less busy in this hour than it normally was, a good thing to those having to make their way to booths for deliveries. "Here are the flowers, Bea." The short dwarven woman turned to her, smiling as she took the basket from Lilly. Lilly pulled out the helmet, clutching it to her body in prayer from the man.
"Oh what tis dis??" Bea asked, seeing the helmet, "You have present for cute boyfriend?!"
Lilly shook her head, unable to smile at Bea who knew Lilly was single, "No, an injured man came through the Eastern gate, and the ambulance men didn't grab it when they took him away... I'm going to return it to him later, after work. I never even got his name.."
Bea shook her head, "No! You go now! Go make sure he okay and get handsome mans name!" Bea was like this, always the romantic even though she was unwed herself. Lilly attempted to say she would visit him later, but Bea was already pushing her in the direction of the hospital. It would be a bit of a walk from the market to the hospital, but Lilly started on it anyway, her unique dress swaying as she walked down the crowded street, the helmet clutched to her front to protect it.
The stout goblin immediately let his imagination wander about the merchant and his two guards. Who were they? Where were they going? Obel was lost in his daydream as the toll keeper left for her shift. Noticing at the last minute he called out, "Take care, stranger!"
After finishing his second ale, he was feeling pretty chatty. His eyes searched around the room, looking for someone to talk to. It wasn't long before he noticed the lute.
Sliding down from his seat and moving along the bar, he approached the musician. "Music, huh? I liked your song." Obel assumed he played the song, anyway. "That's a harp?" He pointed towards the lute, having almost no knowledge of musical instruments. The word harp was something he heard in a story long ago.
He could see that the bard was waiting to order a drink. "Ah, you're thirsty? There are a lot of good drinks here. Dark stouts, light ales, grog... Whatever."
After finishing his second ale, he was feeling pretty chatty. His eyes searched around the room, looking for someone to talk to. It wasn't long before he noticed the lute.
Sliding down from his seat and moving along the bar, he approached the musician. "Music, huh? I liked your song." Obel assumed he played the song, anyway. "That's a harp?" He pointed towards the lute, having almost no knowledge of musical instruments. The word harp was something he heard in a story long ago.
He could see that the bard was waiting to order a drink. "Ah, you're thirsty? There are a lot of good drinks here. Dark stouts, light ales, grog... Whatever."
A smile smile cracked open upon the lips of the Paladin, and he did as he was told, staying silent for now and simply focusing on controlling his breathing. He was rather intrigued by her now. He had certainly never seen that color of eye before, and her red hair seemed to highlight her features, in addition to making it far easier to recognize her. When the helmet was removed the paladin squinted for a moment, his seemingly golden hair now visible to any due to the removal of the helmet. When she had leaned over him to provide some shade he only nodded in what he hoped to be a thankful manner.
When the paladin had been picked up by the men he grunted in pain, being picked up with a wound on his stomach certainly was not aiding his current situation. Once placed in the carrige he just laid down with his arms at his sides, passing out soon afterward from loss of blood.
When the paladin had been picked up by the men he grunted in pain, being picked up with a wound on his stomach certainly was not aiding his current situation. Once placed in the carrige he just laid down with his arms at his sides, passing out soon afterward from loss of blood.
She didn't know what to do, sitting down on a crate outside the battalion aid station, the equivalent of a hospital in this outpost town. The rude men from before were inside when she went to find the injured man, shooing her out and locking the door saying they had important things to do. Sitting this close to the window she could see inside, many men and women rushing around shouting things, disappearing into a back room. The bar and inn was only a few buildings away, and for the mean time Lilly walked there, going to get something to eat for the afternoon/evening.
Once inside it seemed pretty crowded as always, but thankfully there was an open spot at the bar. Never leaving the helmet anywhere else, Lilly sat at the bar, ordering some meat and potatoes from the woman behind the counter. Tossing the few coins she had left on the counter, Lilly began eating, slowly due to not being in much of a rush due to not knowing when she could get back to see the knight, if she even could. Her mind lingered on him, his beautiful golden hair having shined in the bright sun, the few words he said tugging at her worried mind. He sounded in terrible shape, and judging by his wound that wasn't a stretch of a realization.
Glancing occasionally around the bar she saw many familiar faces, most of which she had never met but seen often through town or here at the inn. The bard, who had such interesting songs, looked like he was talking with a blue goblin with a red patch of hair, the creatures in this town more and more interesting and diverse the longer she stayed here.
Once inside it seemed pretty crowded as always, but thankfully there was an open spot at the bar. Never leaving the helmet anywhere else, Lilly sat at the bar, ordering some meat and potatoes from the woman behind the counter. Tossing the few coins she had left on the counter, Lilly began eating, slowly due to not being in much of a rush due to not knowing when she could get back to see the knight, if she even could. Her mind lingered on him, his beautiful golden hair having shined in the bright sun, the few words he said tugging at her worried mind. He sounded in terrible shape, and judging by his wound that wasn't a stretch of a realization.
Glancing occasionally around the bar she saw many familiar faces, most of which she had never met but seen often through town or here at the inn. The bard, who had such interesting songs, looked like he was talking with a blue goblin with a red patch of hair, the creatures in this town more and more interesting and diverse the longer she stayed here.
As Aearion sat down he was immediately approached by the little Goblin. An expression of curiosity and disbelief were on his face. Goblins, by his knowledge, were creatures who were mainly considered to be tribal. To see one in rather high-end looking gear was surprising. But then again, this outpost seemed to have many "monstrous" races in them, and Aearion himself was an exotic sight as well. So who was he to judge a Goblin in the military? He'd seen weirder things in his travels.
"I thank you for the compliment, ser!" The Merman spoke with a genuine smile on his face."It's a song in the rough, really. I was hoping a place such as this would inspire me to come up with something powerful, something a warrior would sing to give himself courage. But alas, I am cursed to sing sappy songs about nature and unfortunate pasts."
The bard couldn't help but chuckle at the misconception."Oh no, this is not quite as angelic as a harp, ser. It's a lute. Harps are not constricted by a wooden case. A lute sounds more sheltered. Its notes do not linger on as they do with a harp." He explained excitedly as he held the instrument in his lap and strummed a few strings."But listen to me prattle on. Please, sit with me, good ser, have a drink on my treat! I myself am quite partial towards honeyed ale. You look like the type who'd enjoy grog if I'm any judge of character." He stated with a sly grin.
As Aearion's ale arrived, he ordered something of Obel's choice and then raised his mug once he too had his alcohol."What shall we drink to?"
"I thank you for the compliment, ser!" The Merman spoke with a genuine smile on his face."It's a song in the rough, really. I was hoping a place such as this would inspire me to come up with something powerful, something a warrior would sing to give himself courage. But alas, I am cursed to sing sappy songs about nature and unfortunate pasts."
The bard couldn't help but chuckle at the misconception."Oh no, this is not quite as angelic as a harp, ser. It's a lute. Harps are not constricted by a wooden case. A lute sounds more sheltered. Its notes do not linger on as they do with a harp." He explained excitedly as he held the instrument in his lap and strummed a few strings."But listen to me prattle on. Please, sit with me, good ser, have a drink on my treat! I myself am quite partial towards honeyed ale. You look like the type who'd enjoy grog if I'm any judge of character." He stated with a sly grin.
As Aearion's ale arrived, he ordered something of Obel's choice and then raised his mug once he too had his alcohol."What shall we drink to?"
Obel nodded, "Ah, honeyed ale. Good choice, good choice." The goblin looked back over towards his finished glass and made a mental note to order one more drink. "I do enjoy a good grog. They make it into an ale now. Grog Ale." The goblin's choice of beer might taste too sweet for many of Halle's diverse races. "But honeyed ale, go with that."
People came from all over to serve in the King's Militia. This was the second army that Obel had fought with. The military took him away from his life as a hooligan. By now, the culture of the military had rubbed off on him. He was much stronger physically and was studying the world around him, learning new things. Of course, sometimes he was a little confused, such as with the lute.
"We drink to motivation for new songs", Obel replied to the merman.
The goblin had caught the barmaid's attention and given the signal for another drink. She brought it soon after the bard's. Obel raised his glass and nodded then drank from the mug as Aearion did the same. The taste of several kinds of fruit mixed with the hop/barley flavor of a pale ale took over the Goblin's palette.
Obel started feeling chatty again. "My village is far. In a mountain valley, a few days walk from here. Sometimes I miss it. But uh, I bet you travelled farther. And you're not from any mountains, hmm? What is it like where you grew up?"
For the first time, the goblin noticed a red-haired woman. She looked terribly worried. A look of concern crept over the goblin's expressive face.
People came from all over to serve in the King's Militia. This was the second army that Obel had fought with. The military took him away from his life as a hooligan. By now, the culture of the military had rubbed off on him. He was much stronger physically and was studying the world around him, learning new things. Of course, sometimes he was a little confused, such as with the lute.
"We drink to motivation for new songs", Obel replied to the merman.
The goblin had caught the barmaid's attention and given the signal for another drink. She brought it soon after the bard's. Obel raised his glass and nodded then drank from the mug as Aearion did the same. The taste of several kinds of fruit mixed with the hop/barley flavor of a pale ale took over the Goblin's palette.
Obel started feeling chatty again. "My village is far. In a mountain valley, a few days walk from here. Sometimes I miss it. But uh, I bet you travelled farther. And you're not from any mountains, hmm? What is it like where you grew up?"
For the first time, the goblin noticed a red-haired woman. She looked terribly worried. A look of concern crept over the goblin's expressive face.
In the aid center the injured man had been laid out on a table so the work could begin on mending his wounds. First those whom had surrounded the table began to remove his armor. To do so without moving him around too much and potentially further open the wound they began to unbuckle the various leather straps that held the armor together and in place, neatly piling the resulting removed armor against the wall. The breastplate however, would be an issue to remove. The metal had bent inward into the wound, slightly digging into and covering the rended flesh there. Having little other choice they would have to remove it to treat the wound properly.
A cry of pain was torn from the paladin as the breastplate was slowly pulled off his chest and out of the wound, anyone within the building or just outside would have heard it. The man on the table did his best not to move, however the pan made it very difficult not to flinch. Over the next few hours the aid stations staff would clean the wound, apply a salve to prevent infection and hopefully speed up the natural healing process, bandaged the wound, and gave the Paladin multiple herbs to dull the pain.
A cry of pain was torn from the paladin as the breastplate was slowly pulled off his chest and out of the wound, anyone within the building or just outside would have heard it. The man on the table did his best not to move, however the pan made it very difficult not to flinch. Over the next few hours the aid stations staff would clean the wound, apply a salve to prevent infection and hopefully speed up the natural healing process, bandaged the wound, and gave the Paladin multiple herbs to dull the pain.
Passing by others, Constanza’s toll-guard banner showed her place in the crowd. Walking with measured steps, she passes by the first-aid encampment. Taking a glance towards the nearby guards, who stood talking to themselves, she approached them, “Has someone been injured near the East Gate? I heard the bell.” One of the guard nods, pointing behind him, the yells of pain calling from the building, “Yeah, he’s pretty banged up. They’re dressing him right now.” Offering the guard a single nod, Constanza stood still a moment, before asking, “Was he injured near the gate? Should I be ready for beasts or bandits?” Her expression became serious, her eyebrows crossed and her lips shut.
The guard shakes his head, “He road in, but I’d still watch for anything or anyone following him. Don’t need the like of bandits around here on top of war tension.” As the cries of pain mellowed, Constanza’s eyes blinked, her facial features softening, “I’ll keep a look out.” Offering a curt salute, she turned to waddle towards the East Gate.
The guard shakes his head, “He road in, but I’d still watch for anything or anyone following him. Don’t need the like of bandits around here on top of war tension.” As the cries of pain mellowed, Constanza’s eyes blinked, her facial features softening, “I’ll keep a look out.” Offering a curt salute, she turned to waddle towards the East Gate.
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