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Another wave of fog rolls over the city of Sarton, in from across the expansive blue grey lake that the city was constructed on and next to. The city was one of the largest cities in the land, populated by most every race and though being based primarily on fishing, home to many types of business. The cobblestone streets are slick from the seemingly endless light rain. Several taverns across town are bustling eith activity, filled with people trying to take shelter from the fog and rain. Taverns are well known as being paces where one can pick up a drink and maybe a job.

The local guild is just down the road, and their announcement board is full of parchment advertisements.

Harold was glad to be away from his family, even if away was here. The parting was a mutual agreement, and took up the path of the knight errant to move freely away from his parent's suspicious eyes.

He looked around until he say the announcement board. Something substantial enough had to be there.

Nymphodora had just arrived to the city and although she knew that she should probably find some shelter from the rain, she was too excited about exploring the city. Her first stop, she decided, would be the guild's announcement board. "There's not that many people around it like I thought there would be," she commented to herself as she walked towards the board.

(are we doing this in rounds, or can we just go whenever?)

(Go whenever)

Sir Adelbard Laudessagne rode into the Sarton's outskirt. His horse's hooves squelched in the mud, and the knight feared she might get a foot stuck. The man wore a cloak of thin navy blue wool with yellow-gold trim, the hood up to keep the rain off his face. The garment protected his armor from the water as well. He was a sight to behold, with his tooled saddle, elaborate rapier, and tasseled reins.

The circumstances that brought him so far from home were shameful: after a long time suspecting, his father's guard Sir Gellert Grimslay had finally caught Adelbard canoodling with the winsome Sir Roland Michelage. Naturally, his lord father had not tolerated such proclivities and dispatched him in search of chivalrous deeds to reclaim his honor. Not that it was ever lost, the knight thought furiously. But he preferred this punishment to the alternative: Roland losing his head. Perhaps I'll never go back. He hadn't even been permitted to take his squire, making the journey very difficult. Even the Laudessagne crests he normally wore had been removed--his father didn't want him to flaunt his title so long as he was disgraced. Cloak, brooches, and even breastplate had been replaced with plain alternatives.

But Adelbard didn't anticipate that his travels would take him as far as Ryhmna. This was a strange place with strange creatures, and he tried not to stare at them as he passed them by. He'd heard word of an adventurer's guildhall in the city of Sarton, and he steered Leognon towards it now, hoping that perhaps there he might find a lead pertaining to something other than skullduggery. If the noticeboard was inside, Adelbard dismounted once he arrived and stepped inside. If it was outside, he didn't get down from his mare and instead tried to get a look at the papers from her back. Either way, he noticed two people also investigating the jobs. One appeared to be a young boy and the other one of the elf-kind. She at least looked more like she belonged, but the boy?

"Pardon, ma taime--are you lost?" he asked Harold ... not like he'd be able to help him if he said yes. His voice bore a Beauvraldi accent, a distant country that Ryhmnians might not even have heard of. (Think French)

The announcement board had layers of flyers caked onto it, many of which were scratched off or soaked to the point of being completely incomprehensible by the rain, but only one remains. It is entitled reads "Need Exploration Crew - See Conrad in The Demon's Wing tavern. Good pay-"

Harold eyed Adelbard. He assumed the statement was directed at him, even if he didn't understand all the words.

"No sir, I am not lost. I am undergoing the path of a knight errant, I just happen to not have my arms and armor on my. What of you? Why are you here?"

He subtly shifted his features to appear slightly older, but not so much as to alarm the man he was speaking to.

(I wanted to give people a chance to reply, but I also want to keep things going, so I'm just gonna post again)

Adelbard blinked and rubbed one of his eyes as the boy's face seemed to blur slightly. He'd spent many nights getting little sleep, so it came as no surprise. He must have been mistaken when he first rode up. "My apologies, sir," the knight said. "I thought you were just a lad. Meant no disrespect in questioning you like that."

Though he was loathe to sink ankle-deep in the mud, he slid from his horse's saddle and hit the ground with a splash. Harold looked a little older now, but he was still fresh-faced and short of stature. "I walk a similar path," Adelbard explained, stroking his mare's muzzle. "I am Sir Adelbard Lau--well, ah ... just Sir Adelbard for this journey ..."

The 'why' question made him shift uncomortably. He cleared his throat and adjusted his cloak. "Why? Ah ... I seek beasts to slay and people to save," he finally said. "I didn't expect to see any other knights here ... from what house do you hail?"

Dark eyes flicked over the noticeboard, spotting the only paper left. Exploration didn't sound much like his cup of tea, but jobs were scarce, it seemed. He gestured to let Harold know he was still listening, but stepped over to take and read the notice.

"The FitzGerald house. We have little prestige outside our home to the north. You may have seen our symbol, the Enfield. A lion with talons or some other beast a noble artist drew one day. Our campaigns have been slow ones of lessor gains, so here I am, looking for greener pastures as they say."

He looked towards the piece of paper that Sir Adelbard held. "So Sir Adelbard, would you mind working together for a bit? I figure as there is so little work to go around we might as well share. Additionally you can slay bigger monsters and save more people with a little help from me. Would you be interested?"

Adelbard stroked his chin as he thought on the name. He wasn't sure if he'd heard of House Fitzgerald before, but that was no surprise, for his own homeland was quite a ways south of here. "Duly understood," he told the other knight, lifting his eyes from the paper. "I would be amenable to allying with you for a time, Sir Harold. Do you know the location of our contact? This ... Demon's Wing Tavern?" He handed the notice over to the younger man. "I've only just arrived and I don't yet know my way around ..."

He quickly scans the notice for the location. The Demon's Wing Tavern. Sure enough it was near where he stashed his supplies.

"I stowed my supplies near there. If you would follow me?"

He trudged throw the muddy streets, more hoping that Adelbard would follow him than actually checking. After a rough half-hour he came to the a muddy hole well concealed by foliage and trash. After pushing most of it the side with his foot, he took out the tools of a knight's bloody business: A leather cuirass, similiar greeves, a bolt of treated wood arrows, and a crossbow made of brass.

"The tavern is right across the way. I am ready when you are to go in." This is said as he affixed the armor on himself and stored the arms in a heavy sac.

Adelbard didn't want to be rude and climb back into the saddle when Harold had no mount of his own, so he resigned himself to slogging through the muck behind the younger man. Their destination confused him, and he frowned as he watched Harold digging around in refuse. "What are you ... ?"

His question was answered when the young knight procured his arms and armor from the hollow. "You--you need to hide your possessions so? This city needs to treat people like us with more respect ..."

Grumbling softly, he nodded and gestured for Harold to lead the way into the tavern. The knight paused to tie Leognon to the hitching post outside, hoping that no one would think to get handsy with her, then entered the building as well.

"We're looking for a fellow named Conrad, it seems," the knight mumbled, scanning the sea of scruffy faces.

"Maybe I don't need to, but I know now is a good time to have it. Before, along the masses of the street, being armed puts a lot of people in a state of discomfort. While a bar, or at least one like this, is the only way to gain any respect without a famed reputation."

He scans the room. No matter how hard he looks no one really has Conrad on a name tag. Some other method would need to be done.

"We can post up and hope he reveals himself, or just call him out right now. I prefer the latter, but as a team we make decisions together now. What do you think?"

As he speaks Harold sees a man try to reach into his weapon's sack. A quick glare (and a bit of subtle shape-shifting) scares him away.

Adelbard frowned. "Sight of a knight should never put someone at unease," he said, though he knew that there were some of his brothers who perhaps not as responsible with their status as they could be.

As Harold posed their options, the elder knight dipped his chin. "We're in agreement, then ... pardon me!" Though he raised his voice, he mostly went ignored by the tavern occupants. "I am Sir Adelbard and this is Sir--pardon! We're looking for a man named Conrad!"

A stout looking man with a long beard, a bald head, and glittering green eyes approaches the counter and bangs his fist on the wooden surface. " Aye lads! You've come to the right spot! I'm Conrad, an' I'm guessin' you two's lookin' to take up me offer? Say now, you with all the fancy lookin' coattails n' cloak. You's a knight aintcha? Ain't from round these parts either, I kin tell. Forchunately ye ain't gonna be goin' off to war anytime soon. Ain't enough people leff around these parts to fight anymor'." He stops and looks at the two, and then leans forward a bit on the counter. "Now lads, about the job. I've got a real issue with somethin' that's been prowlin' about this town at night, scarin' me customers half dead and killin' m'neighbor's livestock. I've got a hank'rin that the thing, or things, been comin' from one of the old dunjens' n' ruins out yonder. Ye think you could clear 'em out for me n' the ressa the town?" he inquires. "Pays real hanssome, I promis ya."

(sorry for the delay. I am not good at replacing labtop screens.)

He tried to size up Conrad. He seemed rather simple, but was a hint of deception. Rather real or imagined, I had to make sure we could get all the information we could.

"I find the best way to get any job done is information gathering, and the most important information is exactly how much we are being payed."

Well that was all the important information anyway.