[hr][center][@BCTheEntity] [color=deepskyblue]Talran Galelove – Medium Friendly Paladin[/color][/center][hr]A degree of loud rapping drew Talran's attention away from Zaerith. The old woman causing the ruckus was immediately rather concerning - not necessarily for her appearance, but for the nature of the shroud hiding her wares. How vile... yet viler still was what came next. As Talran observed the antics of [color=ed145b]"Grandmother Morgantha"[/color], how she intended to take the young boy to [color=ed145b]"Bonegrinder"[/color], and how the parents did this willingly in exchange for mere pastry... perhaps unseen by Zaerith, perhaps not, Talran's expression steadily shifted from confused annoyance to mere fury at the gruesome spectacle he was observing.

[color=deepskyblue]'Pardon me a moment, I have business to take care of,'[/color] Talran murmured, riding his steed steadily in the direction of the old woman. The parents were of a gruesome sort, too, being that they were willing to seemingly sacrifice their child for a sweet. But they might have their excuses. He'd heard of magic that could twist a man's mind when it remained otherwise steadfast, of course; succubi were one of the most obvious topics of discussion in that regard. No such explanation existed for the old woman, though - perhaps she was twisted in the mind too. Maybe she was a succubus. Nonetheless, she had to be stopped.

Surprisingly, the first offensive move came from the newest member of their party, Lady Anala. A web of some sort shot out, an effort to ensnare the old woman entirely; yet, despite her obvious skill, the woman was apparently undeterred, though well aware of the nature of events now; spurring his insectile steed onward, Talran made his way into the path she had intended to take, one hand on his blade's handle, staring her down from beyond the webbing's grasp with a great deal of negativity. He had a great desire to deal with her then and there and be done with it, but he had his oaths to think about.

[color=deepskyblue]'I suggest you take heed, "grandmother",'[/color] he spoke loudly, voice clearly unimpressed, [color=deepskyblue]'for I'll only say this once. The exchange you're partaking in is neither virtuous nor just, and even if I believed the child you intend to abduct has any price that'd be reasonable to pay for him, two pastries would be far below that price. I'll see him freed, or else I'll see you in chains at best; I do not wish to draw my blade upon you, crone, but in Helm's name, I shall do it if it means protecting an innocent life from the likes of you.'[/color] And even if he were willing to let her live after her inevitable failure to comply, he could by no means guarantee that his companions would allow her the same courtesy.

[hr][center][@Hekazu] [color=tan]The Unnamable[/color][/center][hr]Webs and zealous accusations. All following a scene of a ghastly transaction taking place. The man with the purple eyes steered his mount to the side, away from all the action and procured the envelope from the confines of the worn and torn coat. The map drawn on the parchment was folded and returned to the sleeve of it and its kin, followed by the envelope as a whole sliding back into the pocket it had just received its temporary freedom from. [color=tan]"This looks... wrong, George",[/color] the puppet was informed while the mount spun around, now what could be called its eyes once again pointing at the direction of the pastry trader.

Not all was right with this. Urchins being taken advantage of was one thing, but... there was a nervous gulp while George sought comfort against the man's chest. [color=tan]"Worry not George, she will not come for you. She will not come for you. There is no way she will come for you. She will regret if she does, yes she will...",[/color] the man mumbled, evidently nervous about the possible future developments. Several beads of sweat raced down the dirty brow, unobstructed by any wiping sleeve. For now, all that could be done was to wait and see.[hr]