Lochar
God of Storytellers
Millan gropes slightly at Mishka, but is still too soused to even do that properly. Instead, he more or less stumbles into the grasp of the woman, his face falling towards her bosom but arrested by the artful manipulations of the Slayer.
"B'rrcks are eassst o' here." He slurs at her, his eyes shining with alcohol and lust at her proposition. "I'lllll get ya onta tha groundz, then we kin have some funn."
Millan will stagger towards the door under Mishka's guidance, and whether or not the rest follow, he drunkenly stumbles towards the eastern section of town, after being pointed in the right direction by Mishka. The Exalted of Malfeas probably has to hold her breath as he grins and speaks nonsensical words, things that in his drunken stupor he probably thinks are sweet nothings.
Eventually though, Millan leads you to a section of Jotun that has much better buildings and thicker walls in those buildings. Smoke rises in curling plumes from them, and most of the buildings are large. Three and four stories of heavy stone, built in the style of barracks for a hundred men each.
And the whole area has a low fence built around it. Less to keep people away and more to serve as snowbreak and marker for the encampment, you all would assume. Because as you pass through the gates, there aren't any guards out at the moment.
Millan points to one of the smaller buildings. "Gu. gu. gu.. Vistr house. We'll go vist there."
"B'rrcks are eassst o' here." He slurs at her, his eyes shining with alcohol and lust at her proposition. "I'lllll get ya onta tha groundz, then we kin have some funn."
Millan will stagger towards the door under Mishka's guidance, and whether or not the rest follow, he drunkenly stumbles towards the eastern section of town, after being pointed in the right direction by Mishka. The Exalted of Malfeas probably has to hold her breath as he grins and speaks nonsensical words, things that in his drunken stupor he probably thinks are sweet nothings.
Eventually though, Millan leads you to a section of Jotun that has much better buildings and thicker walls in those buildings. Smoke rises in curling plumes from them, and most of the buildings are large. Three and four stories of heavy stone, built in the style of barracks for a hundred men each.
And the whole area has a low fence built around it. Less to keep people away and more to serve as snowbreak and marker for the encampment, you all would assume. Because as you pass through the gates, there aren't any guards out at the moment.
Millan points to one of the smaller buildings. "Gu. gu. gu.. Vistr house. We'll go vist there."