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[right][b][color=ed1c24]Praetor City, Dall[/color]
Winter - 941 F.M [color=0072bc](Finis Mortem)
[url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_YQpacAuhX8][ ♫ ][/url][/color][/b][/right]
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The call for a free round never failed to garner the attention the guardsman sought. His worn visage was upturned in a light smile as several people were quick to bound forward. The veritable charge was led by the mountain of a man that the veteran guard had spotted earlier. He had a feeling someone of his demeanor was here on business of this sort. The leather-clad stranger carried himself like a warrior- it was a walk the old soldier was well acquainted with. It was one he had once walked as well in his younger years, before his body and temperament were weathered by too many winters.

"Ahh, don't you worry- the man'll get what's coming to him soon enough." He scornfully replied, knowing full well that the steward's punishment would be a light slap on the wrist compared to the hell any man of lesser status would be put through for such a short coming. "Pleasure to meet you, Blackwall. I'm Sergeant Howle of the Royal Guard." Howle held out one hand toward Blackwall, offering a shake, while the other reached behind to take the first of the whiskey brought up by the barkeep. Howle passed it right on to the warrior in exchange for his summons.

The two younger guards accompanying the sergeant were quick to snatch up drinks of their own. The darker haired and fairer skinned of the two lifted the harsh liquid up to his lips, only to pause before he could drink at the sight of the next to approach them. He launched a sharp elbow into the side of the companion with him, wordlessly bringing the other man's gaze to follow his own. The next to come forward was easily ousted as a wizard, given her attire and the company she'd kept. Their was suspicion in the first man's eyes- though it was not mirrored by his fellow. On the contrary, his second's gaze was filled with a captivated fascination. Magic, and those that wielded it, was an incredibly rare thing to behold. Praetor City was one of a handful of hubs of activity that saw wizards pass through at all. Many cities would consider the presence of one magic user an omen, and a moment to be recorded in the history books. For most in Dall, however, magicians just meant one thing:

Trouble.

Neither of the two flankers spoke up as Tegan introduced herself, though for entirely different reasons. They took a step away and allowed Howle the floor, letting him take a step forward to offer yet another handshake to yet another adventurer. "His highness King [i]Astius[/i]-" The sergeant emphasized- "Surely appreciates your answering his call." Howle silently figured the exorbitant pay offered to types like these ones was thanks enough, but it wasn't his place to comment; especially not when he was meant to be convincing these people to take the job for his lordship. One summons in hand, he looked to the other magician accompanying Tegan. "I'm not made of coin, but if your friend has his summons, I'll see what I can do." Howle's smile faltered just a little, wincing as he totaled up the costs in his head. The Steward was going to have to reimburse the sergeant for all of this, or there'd be hell to pay. For Howle, more than likely- but he'd be very upset about it.

"You all have my apologies, but I'm afraid you'll need to drink and walk. We're pressed for time as it is." Howle nodded. He silently tore the drinks away from his two guardsmen, sliding them back across the bar. A protest nearly started from both guards [i]and[/i] the barkeeper, but a single glare was enough to choke down any words they might have for him. He didn't doubt the bastard across the counter owed the king anyway, and the two with him knew the captain would whip them both on sight if he caught them drinking on duty. With that, the group had to be off, returning to the keep in due haste. Any questions could be answered along the way, or deferred to the steward upon arrival.

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"I'll have a cup brewed for you immediately, then." He insisted with a slight forward nod of his head. The gray haired captain turned heel, leading the way for the single adventurer back toward the castle keep. His smile, already characteristically thin, drooped into a frown when he heard the calls for a 'drink at the tavern' from the guard stationed at the front. His nose was further stuck up when the woman he was escorting mentioned that she was married. The captain made a mental note to take the man aside later and explain in no small detail the etiquette expected of the king's own.

He had always been a strict man of chivalry and code, and he expected his men to follow in his stead. Those that did not rarely remained in [i]his[/i] guard for very long.

A slight turn of his head to look back at the oddly dressed treasure hunter, the royal guardsman answered the questioned offered him with a wiggle of his thick, gray mustache. "The nearest inn is the Lame Mule. It's a short walk from the keep up the main road." He explained, his voice echoing in the pit of his gut like a drum of war. It was a short, factual explanation- his own ill-feelings about the lowly establishment kept to himself.  

"I'd personally recommend an establishment in the eastern district. The Flightless Pegasus, it's called. The best drinks you can get in Praetor. More expensive and out of the way, but the woman that owns it is wonderful." The captain added after a moment of hesitation.

Before them the great wooden doors of the keep were thrown open, the freezing cold air plowing into the warm exterior. It's halls of grand marble and sapphire curtains weaved from the finest linens and silks were a sight to behold indeed. No place on earth could match it's splendor- according to the men of Dall, at least, who were known for being totally objective and not at all self-absorbed.

Inside the castle hall, a handful of unfamiliar faces could be found. An odd, weasel-looking man stood near an equally shifty-eyed woman bearing heavy iron shackles. And then there was the robed man with a distant look on his face that they'd seen outside before. The captain judged them all quite harshly, though the only sign of his disapproval was the creasing of his wrinkled visage.

He cleared his throat, stepping forward to hopefully get their collective attention. "You have my sincerest apologies for the delay." The captain began. "And I would like to thank you for your patience. Steward Lethino will be overseeing your departure. If you'd all follow me, I'll lead you to him." The guardsman waved, beginning to move through the sparkling hall with the hope that they'd all fall in at his rear.