[center][img]https://img.gfx.no/1231/1231018/original.812x400.jpg[/img][/center]
[hr]
[right][b][color=ed1c24]Praetor City, Dall[/color]
Winter - 941 F.M [color=0072bc](Finis Mortem)
[url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t2rs-OyJ-Q8][ ♫ ][/url][/color][/b][/right]
[hr]

The frozen breath of the wild brushed against Lethino's rosy cheeks as he stood in the courtyard, his boots soaked from marching across snow-caked cobblestone. "Gods be damned." The royal steward cursed, flinging his head about frantically. There was no one to be seen! He couldn't believe it- he was late. Terribly, horribly, awfully late. Frederick couldn't blame the adventurers for leaving; who would want to stand out in the cold for so long?! Lethino's failure was truly, unequivocally outrageous. So monumental was his floundering that the steward was sure the king would have his head.

Perhaps not his head. That was a little drastic, especially for King Astius II (long may he reign). But he'd certainly lose his position as head steward if he didn't find a way to remedy the horrors of this situation post-haste. "The first expedition of winter, ruined! What an ill omen this is!" He lamented.

If Lethino wanted to preserve his position in the royal court, his first course of action was finding those he had summoned to Praetor City. That was easier said than done, of course- they could've gone anywhere! Literally anywhere! The capital was far too large for the steward to search alone, which meant recruiting the help of others to his cause. Frederick spun about on his heel, rushing back toward the keep. He threw open the heavy oaken doors, raising his voice until it echoed like thunder. "GUARDS!" He cried. "I require your assistance immediately! This is of the utmost importance!" His voice drew the annoyed attention of several men who's duty it was to stand around the keep looking intimidating. They were drawn to him, like moths to a flame, though their slothfulness was less than appreciated.

Frederick was in a hurry! He had no time for dillying or dallying! The steward swiftly explained his predicament to the gathered host, before unleashing upon them orders most divine to seek out any who carried an official summons bearing the mark of the king. Anyone with that letter was to be brought back to the keep- [b]inside[/b] this time.

One of the royal warriors raised his hand. He was a brutish looking fellow with an ugly birthmark on his cheek and several missing teeth. "Oi, there was some bleedin' moron come 'round here shoutin' about a quest from the king. Said he lost his summons, so we's threw him in the dungeon."

There was a pause from the balding steward, a look of disbelief plastered on his expression as he tried to find some words to explain how utterly ridiculous that was. "Just..." Lethino began, shaking his head. "Retrieve him." Even if the fellow was full of it, one more body on the mission couldn't hurt. Especially if the entire party had bailed on them, of no real fault of their own. "I will remain here, since...mine being somewhere else sort of caused this whole mess in the first place. But you all must hurry! Quickly, now! Find my adventurers!"

[hr]

Garbed in coats of thick fur over their chain and gambesons, the keep's loyal defenders, six in total, set out into the streets with purpose in their step. 

They came upon the first potential adventurers almost immediately. A man of a strange complexion and a questionable mental state was standing ramrod straight in the corner of the courtyard, covered in ice and snow and staring into the distance like an utter loon. A few mutters were shared between the soldiers as they tried to decide who was the unfortunate one among them that would have to go speak to the crazy man.

It was decided that the smallest and most junior of the crew had to go. With a huff, the young soldier started forward, hand resting on the hilt of his sword on the off chance the snow dweller was violent. "'Scuse me, sir," the guardsman started, waving to get his attention. "You wouldn't happen to know where all thems adventure types went off to? The ones here to see the king?" It was a bit of a long shot, but the crazy fellow looked like he'd been standing around here for a good while. He might've seen where some of them went off to, or over heard some crucial chatter. If the man could suppress his urge to stare into the distance long enough to recall, he might actually prove helpful.

The others, meanwhile, continued onward, sharing a quiet snicker at the misfortune of the new recruit. They moved out toward the gatehouse, where they once again encountered a few figures. Two, to be precise. One was an rickety old peasant paid pennies to clear the entryway of snow, who looked like he was having a hell of a time with that broom of his. The other was a woman, if her slight build and height were anything to go off of. It was difficult to tell with the strange attire she wore. The group of five stopped and again discussed their course of action in low voices. It was decided that one of them would address the foreigner while another picked the brain of the servant. Surely they would be able to ascertain the location of their quarry with the help of three separate witnesses!

A man of aging years with many a harsh line upon his face and sunken shoulders stepped up toward the seated foreign woman. He was the eldest of the guardsmen present, and his senior rank afforded him slightly better winter clothing that wasn't so rugged. A polite smile on his lips, the guard deigned to lower his hood despite the weather out of a sign of respect. "Good day, madame." The veteran warrior greeted, nodding his head. "Would I be incorrect in assuming you're here on business with the king? I apologize for the wait; there was an error made on the steward's part. If you'd like to come inside, we can see about getting you something warm to drink."

[hr]

It took a bit of effort, but eventually the royal guardsmen were able to determine- thanks to their witnesses- the location of the rest of the summoned treasure hunters. Now but five in number, the eldest choosing to stay behind and assist the steward in treating their found guests, they set off toward the nearby inn. Though the 'Lame Mule Inn' was near to the keep, it wasn't quite as popular as one might think. The owner was a lecherous old scoundrel that often attempted to bed his female guests. And his employees. And, at one point, a young stable boy he mistook for a woman. Most people didn't like the man very much, but he had been acquitted of any wrongdoing thanks to a few legal loopholes found by his Guild-provided lawyer.

The group of guardsmen entered the inn, throwing open the questionably stable doorway to move inside. It was surprisingly warm within, thanks to the roaring fire that looked like it might be a little [i]too[/i] large for the fireplace it was in. They shrugged off the hoods of their coats, striding further inside through the hustle and bustle of activity within. Their impromptu leader, a bald headed and rough looking man who was actually quite fond of quilting, approached the barkeep. There were several people within that looked like they belonged to the crowd the soldiers sought. More than one wizard was present, and there was one particular giant of a man that looked like he could crush a Broken's skull between his thighs.

"Barkeep." The bald warrior called, tapping the surface of the counter. The keeper's eyes went wide with fear when he spotted the King's golden crest on the royal guard's tabard. That was the sort of look one gave when they owed someone money, the bald warrior figured. But he wasn't going to comment- the collectors could handle such petty crimes as tax evasion. "I'd like to buy a round. Colton's Whiskey." A surprised look was sent his way by his three friends, but no one argued at the prospect of free alcohol. He turned, his gaze tracing the occupants of the inn.

 "One of you, head back outside. There may be more of them that need to be found." A groan came from the man at the back of the foursome. He knew neither of the other two would be willing to pass up on free whiskey, and his wife had recently ordered him to cut alcohol altogether. Begrudgingly he left, a grumble on his lips as he hit the snow-covered roads in search of more wandering adventurers.

"Attention!" He called out in a booming voice. "I come for those summoned by order of the king!" The warrior explained. "...And I wish to apologize to you all by buying you a drink. Come forward, produce your summons, and let's share a round!"