First Few Steps

Ealhstan rode in silence for a while, watching the townsmen going about their business. He had a few ideas about things he'd like to do in town, but could reconcile none of them with the mournful jingles of his coin pouch. He didn't feel the old excitement of entering a new town as he once had; long years on the road had dulled the romance of it. Nonetheless, he was glad for the prospect of a warm bed and a hot meal.


"We going to find a place to stay?" He asked the group at large. "If we're going to be here for a few days, it's probably be best to rent our rooms now so we have somewhere to leave our things."
 
Osric Silkhand





"We should find the inn, aye," Osric says, turning to glance at Eahlstan, "it'll do us good to sleep in real beds and stable the horses properly. After we'll see about work."
 
Abram





Abram gave out a firm "Aye" at the Inn suggestion. And since nothing more needed to be said he left it at that, trotting quietly next to Lyke as they neared their destination.
 
Lyke


More than a little peeved at her suggestion being essentially stolen by the Cripple, Lyke drew in some of her vivacity, replacing it with a slightly furrowed brow and the sudden urge to hurt something defenseless.


In reality it was something idiotic to get upset over, her displeasure stemming from the inability to vocalize the statement more than the subject at hand but how in the world could she ever get that across with body language and flailing her hands about.


Abram moves up, matching her mounts pace. Not wanting to converse or even to be seen as wishing to interact, Lyke digs her booted heel into the black horse beneath her and trots ahead of the others.


Head on a swivel, she keeps her eyes on the job of finding an inn with beds and a stable for their mounts, maybe a pile of hay for same to bundle up in.


The furrowed brow gains the company of a cynical smirk as she rides onward.
 
As you approach, a few black armored men approach your procession, looking you up and down. They hold long spears, with a mace at their hip, and don't particularly seem to be in a jesting mood.


"What business have you in New Hope?" the first, and most ornamented, asks rather brusquely.
 
Adelaide Auerstedt


"A dry bed and a hot meal, like most weary travelers. Do you know where there is a decent inn around here?" Auerstedt replied matter-of-factly, looking around from atop of Abacus, aside Osric's right hand side. Pausing they return their gaze the armoured men. "Oh, and whom might you be, the town's guard? If so, I hope it is because the town takes its' security seriously and not because there are problems in the area?" She speaks up, but leaves it to Osric to declare whomever or whatever they are claiming to be.
 
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Lyke


The bit goes hard back into the brute horses mouth, causing the animal to momentarily gag in surprise. His hooves come to a hard stop, digging up the road and causing Lyke to have to lean forward and stand up in her saddle in order to not be thrown.


The guards before her really did come out of nowhere and she had been moving too quickly in the crowded city but damn it was no excuse. Unwilling and unable to shout out anything helpful, Lyke spits down at the feet of the guards before taking her place in their caravan.


The wad of spit sits like a dead clam, Lyke settling back in her saddle. A glance over at Abram reveals pride in her eyes at the size of the expectorate. Her hands gesture again, thumbing back at the wagon pointing out Silkhand. She clenches her fist, tapping the thumb side before walking her fingers up and pointing at the guards. In essence, she lets Abram know to tell Silkhand to walk his ass on up here and deal with the guards.


@KamiKahzy @Grey
 
Osric Silkhand





Glancing sidewise at Adelaide with the air of a long-suffering captain and his over-familiar sergeant, Osric gives the guards a curt nod.


"As my subordinate says, we are simply seeking respite from the hard roads behind us," he says. "We're the Unbroken Company," he continues, pausing a beat there as if expecting the guard to recognize the name. Either it sticks, and we're stuck, or I actually get the rest of them to weigh in on a name. "...And we would hope there's work for stalwart mercenaries."
 
The first of the guards gives no notice of Lyte's disrespect, though the second behind him throws a withering scowl in her direction.


"Mercenaries?"


The guard captain smiles mirthlessly.


"Why yes, there is always work for mercenaries. If you wish, I can lead you to the mayor of this fine burg, Nathaniel Leuwaarden,"


He holds up his hand to stop any pre-emptive forward movement.


"However, I must ask you and your compatriots to leave your arms with us for the time being, if you are to enter. New Hope is a good, god fearing town under the vassalage of the Inquisition and House Delat, and I cannot allow trouble to ferment within it uncowed. You understand, of course,"
 
Ealhstan nudged his horse forwards until he drew level with Osric at the front of the party. He inclined his head politely to the Captain, before half-drawing his sword in a slow, placid gesture to show its pommel and the Inquisitorial seal that it bore to the guards.


"I'm with the Inquisition. I can vouch for the sound judgement of these mercenaries as part of my retinue. I would prefer if we be allowed to retain some of our weapons. If we happen upon Inquisitorial business during our stay I would prefer that we were able to handle it directly, in cooperation with your men of course, Captain."


Ealhstan slid his sword back into his sheath and waited. He personally was not overly concerned about carrying his weaponry, but he had a suspicion that other members of the party might.
 
Sam


His initial elation at finally reaching civilisation was soon quashed at the arrival of the Inquisitorial Goons.


He stays - unaturally for him - very still, judging the situation very cautiously with wide scared eyes. The last time he had encountered the Inquisition this close, they were crushing his Master's skull under their maces and setting the house in which he lived on fire. With him still in it.


He swallows sharply to suppress a low rolling growl in his throat.


If he had hackles, they'd be raised, but for the moment he keeps his eyes on Blue, patting her gently to occupy his hands.


He was not welcome to the idea of having to hand over his bow either. Being without it made him feel uneasy. Naked. Declawed.


Just stay quiet and let them do the talking. Don't draw attention.
 
The Guard Captain tilts his head, eyes flicking from the Inquisitorial symbol to Ealhstan's face.


"Oh? A member of the Inquisition traveling with a mercenary company over an Inquisitorial retinue? How very odd," comments the Captain flatly. "Might you have a name to go with the badge, sir?"
 
"Ealhstan Cygnic. Bastard of House Cygnic. I trained at Ymon under Thorik Iortheim, been a qualified Inquisitor for five years now."


Ealhstan cocked his head at the rest of the company.


"As for these fine folk, it was a matter of circumstance. My retinue was wiped out a short time ago, same time that I lost my leg. I started travelling with these people while acclimatizing to my injury. Since then they've been quite useful to the Inquisition's cause. Surely that is enough to justify my identity and those of my companions, Captain, unless you'd prefer to seek me out in the archives at Ymon?"
 
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Gradually, as Ealhstan speaks, the Captain's face grows a little less rigid, a little less lined.


"My apologies sir," he admits, his voice losing that hard edge. "One can never be too careful, especially in this godless land so far from the fatherland,"


"Come, I will take you and the commander of the company to see the Lord. Your men may wait here, set up camp outside, or make arrangements at the inn," explains the Captain, gesturing to a large, slated building that stands at the main corner of what appears to be the main thoroughfare.
 
Adelaide Auerstedt


"Captain, you go ahead." Nodding towards Osric. "I'll get us sorted at the inn."


Once the Ealhstan and Osric depart with the guards, Adelaide turns to the remainder. "Well, that went well enough, considering. Anyway, Unbroken Company is going to station at the inn in the meantime. We'll get the horses stabled first, then we'll eat ourselves. Once the Captain and Inquisitor return, there'll be a chance to take care of personal matters." Adopting the Company's title without hesitation, Auerstedt speaks with confidence, as if this is all run of the mill, both to reassure those present and in case they are being observed.
 
Abram


Abram was glad that things had been sorted so quickly. He would have turned in his weapon of course, but he would have made it awfully hard for anyone trying to forcefully take it from his hand. As it was though Abram just shouldered the poleaxe and looked passively towards Adelaide as she addressed the group. He didn't even bother to look at the guards that had stopped them, they hadn't addressed him and they were simply doing their duty. No need to dwell on it any further than that. Instead Abram just looked to Adelaide and gave a polite nod in her direction. "Aye ma'am," he said with military diction, leaving a tempered edge to his words that even he couldn't suppress. Years of training will do that to a man.


Now that their goal had been set Abram simply waited atop Athos, watching casually as the destrier shook his head and whickered in boredom. He absently patted his steed's neck while he waited for Adelaide to lead the others towards the inn and stables.
 
Lyke


A simple finger point at Auerstedt, a hand miming a mouth speaking, pointing at herself and then a very deliberate eye lock with Lyke shaking her head. You don't tell me what to do. The or else wasn't needed, her expression satisfying any need for a threatening gesture.


She yanks her reigns, peeling aside and trotting off after Abram. The Inn in sight, Lyke wanted only to lift her sore ass up and out of the saddle and into a better looking inn than she had expected. A mental note was agaitaken though, to thank the cripple. His words were keeping her armed with something better than a bootknife and her seax led snugly on her belt.


She spits again, trotting up behind Abram with a smile growing as she pointed out empty stable slots and a large wooden 'tub' of sorts. Bath and a bed? Truly the reason why cities were the best sort of destination.


@KamiKahzy @Bardiel
 
Adelaide Auerstedt


Her fists clenched around the reins, however her demeanor didn't change, instead, prompting Abacus to trot, taking the lead approaching the inn. No good losing temper here, and she isn't wholly unjustified. Things have not been formalised, though that is one of the objectives for us here. And they won't be if she get's us held up in a cell or dead in the ground. Damn it though, if her wiriness wouldn't be useful. Heck, they'd probably work well together in a fight, however, pairing with Abram may have better efficiency... a lot of work is needed to work out the best formations for us. Sam and Ealhstan, myself and Silkhand? I wonder...


Distracting herself with tactical thought releases tension as Adelaide reaches the inn. Trying up Abacus and entering the inn, she asks the keep for stabling for the horses and board for the Company. Auerstedt leaves it to the others to choose what they wish to eat. As the others order their food, she politely whispers to Sam if there is anything he may want her to request on his behalf, in case he is concerned about speaking aloud in the inn.
 
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Abram


As the Inn drew nearer Abram's features began to soften from stony soldier to weary veteran. The idea of a clean bed, good food and an opportunity to bathe had put a slight smile on his face since they rode into town. Abram watched as Adelaide tied up her mount in front of the Inn, so he decided to follow suit. Abram chose a post that was farther away from the other horses, particular other mares. Abram noticed Athos staring at some mares as they came closer to town, and even before then he saw the destrier making glances towards the mares in their own company. He dismounted and rigged up a bowline as he'd been taught, a deft maneuver for him at this point. He patted Athos' muzzle and spoke softly, "Stay out of trouble, aye?" The steed snorted in derision before flicking his mane, which caused Abram to smile at his old friend. He then grabbed his poleaxe and held it loosely before walking into the Inn.


Once he passed through the doors Abram grabbed a seat at a table with the others and laid his weapon against his chair, the head resting against the ground so as not to seem threatening. When the maid came over he ordered a cut of whatever meat they had in stock, some bread, and a mug of malt beer. Then Abram sat back and allowed himself a deep sigh as he let the stress of travel slowly leave his body.
 
Ealhstan unbuckled his crutch from the edge of the saddle before sliding off the mount, landing on his good leg before using the crutch to steady himself. He glanced over to Sam.


"Mind taking the horse to the stables with Blue?"


He asked, before turning to limp over to where the captain stood.


"My thanks, Captain. I appreciate it. Lead the way."


@PixelWitch
 
Sam


He takes the reins from Eahlstan as he dismounts himself, suddenly finding his head dipping.


"Oh, Yessir, of course Sir, ri-," he stops himself. You don't need to say that anymore, remember?


He curses himself under his breath. You'd think I'd have learned to break that habit by now. But his irritation is outweighed substantially by the relief he now feels to be out of the gaze of the Inquisition. He scuttles towards the stables, pulling his dithering pony and the other horses to the barn and finding them a stall.


As if on autopilot he removes the reins and saddles and stirrups from them, arranging them on the nails of the walls, before seeing to the feed and water and while they are occupied refreshing, giving them a brush and comb.


He relaxes a little. Shoulders finally loosening. Being with animals was sometimes easier than being with people.


His stomach then growls with such violent enthusiasm that even the equines raise a brow at him.


He giggles guiltily, "Ok, OK,"


He exits, finally making his way towards the Inn.
 
The name of the inn, as depicted by the hanging sign outside, is the Big Black Dog. It's a large enough building, made of wood with a slate roof, glass windows, and a large enough stable out back.

An older man with slumped shoulders helps Sam tether and tie the horses up, though the Crone is loathe to let anyone else handle the huge draft horse that hauls the caravan. She dotes on the massive thing while the other two see to the rest of the horses, shooing off the mumbling stablehand with one gnarled hand as he comes close.


She finishes up with feeding it a carrot, chuckling at Sam's growling belly.


"Aye, 'bit a food fer th' res' of us wouldn' go far amiss, no' would it?" she laughs, following him inside.


The inside of the tavern is as good as can be expected out here in the Frontier. Better even, as the warmth of a roaring fire hits you first thing as you enter, followed by the warm scent of bread.


Though a little dark, it's easy to tell that the place is relatively clean, with the floors nicely swept and tables free of stains. A few lanterns hang from the walls, and a blazing fire is burning in the hearth. A massive dogs skull hangs on the mantle above it, easily the size of a horses head, and the flickering candlelight makes the grinning ivory look like a thing alive.


A rather plump gentleman, with wispy grey hair and cheeks like red apples, sits behind the counter, standing to attention as the rest of you enter the building.


"Oh ho, travelers into New Hope! I hope the guards didn't give ya too frigid a welcome," he welcomes loudly. "You lot stayin' the night?"
 
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Lyke


The blackhorse whinnied loudly as she handed over the reins to one of the hands. The old quartermaster seemed to have a handle over the stable help, abating any worries that Lyke had over stabling here. If the old witch could do anything,


It was take care of horses. Pulling any essential gear off sadle, it takes barely a minute before Lyke finished scraping off her boots and slipping inside.


The smell of hearth and home seemed to flow over her body, drowning out the combined aroma of travel. Smoke, horse, leather, ureah, and oil all becoming diminished in the warm confines of the Big Black Dog.


All her doubts about travel to New Hope seemed to evaporate as she took a few more steps toward the fire, pulling her gloves off and stuffing them in various pockets. Old habits started rearing their heads soon enough, Lyke leaning up against mantle and quickly eying anything of value and sizing up the owner. As if his fat self would be a threat to anyone.


Lyke rubs her hands together, finally looking up and over as the keeper asked if they'd be staying. While the question was dumb in her opinion, their appearance good enough an answer for him, it did raise some questions. Was she to pay for her own room? Would they be paying with company funds? Grouping up and all that. Did they get a meal with their room?


Lyke snaps three times in succession, pointing at Abram. Once eye contact is made she starts signaling, waving for attention. She taps her purse, thumbing up at the rooms above and pointing out at each of their company before slapping her hands together or apart before miming a meal.


It was a complicated message to get across, one she figured Abram might be able to understand.


@KamiKahzy
 
Abram


Abram took notice of the larger man behind the counter, a jolly looking sort with hints of age all about him. Clearly the barkeep, possibly the owner of the Inn. Either way he seemed amiable enough so Abram simply nodded in his direction when the man posed his query. Abram then took a moment to take stock of his surroundings properly. Considering they were officially in the Frontier this was about as fine an establishment as he could hope for. A sturdy building, clean tables, unbroken furniture, and a hearty fire in the hearth to warm the patron's bones. Hell, if this place had a river nearby Abram might feel right at home.


His attentions were brought short when he saw Lyke enter the building and immediately make for the fire. She removed her gloves and began to warm her hands against the flames, then resting against the mantle with a content look in her eye. Abram watched as her face turned from content to confused, and for a moment Abram swore he could hear the gears turning in her head as she pondered something. When she began to clap at him Abram sat upright slightly so he could see her hands better. What followed was a... somewhat confusing gesture. Something about the rooms above, the company in general, her coin purse, and something about eating. When she started to push her hands together Abram looked down at his own coin purse in thought. He looked back at her and slowly spoke his best guess at her meaning "...You mean to split the tab?"


But before Lyke could answer, Abram's attention was drawn directly above her to the skull mounted above the hearth. Immediately Abram was able to determine the canine features of the skull, the distinct lope of the forehead, and the elongated jaw that a stout nose would rest upon. But this skull was far larger than any canine he'd ever encountered, even the wolves of home would rarely grow to such a size. Abram's curiosity was piqued, and he immediately hailed the older man behind the counter. "Barkeep," he called, gesturing to the skull with one large hand, "that beast mounted on the mantle. That be a hound or a wolf?"


@Teh Frixz @Silvertongued
 
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Lyke


She stamps once in frustration. Trying to think of a way to gesture out her questions. One loud snap to try and pull in everyone's attention this time.


Her coin purse jingles again and she gestures at the rooms again before taking out a coin. She holds the coin forward gesturing at everyone before pulling it back then grabs a few more just holding it close to herself.


Thinking that ought to do it, Lyke comes forward, pointing at the stove and pitcher for a possible bath before she got down to a night of drinking.
 
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