The barkeep's eyes looked from Annabella's to Karlus', and stayed locked on the mage for a moment. He then looked to Captain Rial "[color=92278f][b]Se vero Senore Armonte, lo cantante era un idiota borracho. Lo pallido regazzo es inocente.[/b][/color]" Where once the barkeep stood chest out, now was the visage of a shrunken man. [hider=Annabella] The barkeep looked to you for a moment before glancing towards the mage, and then at the guard captain. "[color=92278f][b]That's the truth, Ser Armonte, the minstrel was some drunken idiot. The pale kid is innocent.[/b][/color]" Thankfully the barkeep sought to keep the peace, as did you. Looking back towards Karlus you could see that he was visibly shaken, but not in the way one might assume. He seemed both here and not. You looked to your other allies as well who were much more present. You'd heard whispers that the prince had locked himself away in the coliseum above the Pits where he and his men would force prisoners into one-on-one combat. Of course, no one, not even the capable of warriors, seemed to survive the ordeal. This city was a powder keg, and one mistake could land you all in an early grave. You couldn't let that happen....[i][color=fff79a]not yet.[/color][/i] [/hider] [hider=Vekyzz] Things had certainly gone to the wraiths. Your rifle had never left your side, but the guard would likely try to sever your head before you could load it. You picked up enough Caracan to understand that the barkeep was on your side. "[color=92278f][b]Whats true, Ser Armonte, that singer is an idiot borracho. The plastic boy was innocent.[/b][/color]" You really needed to brush up, but even still the looks shared between the orc, the barkeep, and the mage were enough to keep you content with negotiations. [i]What did they mean by affiliation? Had the company become enemies here? Perhaps Tali was in the Pits. [/i] [/hider] [hider=Sigemund] You couldn't understand the language they spoke, but at least the orc could. The barkeep seemed timid, and the captain's stance remained hostile. There were only four guards. You all outnumbered them, and save for the captain it was likely Hrunting could rip through them before they even managed to draw their swords. The younger and inferior guards were shaky, clearly nervous, and with poor posture. The captain had a limp in his left leg, but you could see he held his second hand awkwardly just above his waist without a visible secondary weapon. If you were to kill them what would that mean for Dreamer's Draugr and her crew? For Tootega? For these strange folk you'd associated yourself with? [/hider] [hider=Kjellfrid] You still felt the calming sensation of the music you'd played earlier, but even still you could just barely feel your heart sink. If you tried to play again they'd likely retaliate, but what else could you do. You could hardly make out any of the words they were saying. You did understand "drunk idiot", the Caracan merchant you'd met back in Redcliffe set up shop next to a busy tavern. Everyone seemed on edge, and gearing to attack. The stranger clad in the furs of your people studied the guards. Did he mean to kill them all? The scene of a man being held to the ground by guards from before came back to you, if only for a moment, were these men truly like the Wolfram soldiers. Could you survive being captured again? [/hider] Captain Rial Armonte sat with himself for a moment, mulling over the situation. The crew seemed experienced. He'd likely only cut down one or two before the others could retaliate. Even still, he had his orders. He turned his head back towards the younger guards. "[b]Come passiamo determinare se e con La Lega?[/b]" The guards shrugged in response. "[color=7ea7d8][b]La Lega de Magi sono magusi de lo sangue, no senore? Controlla eventuali bende o tagli sulle bracia.[/b][/color]" One of the younger guards finally spoke up. He didn't seem confident. The captain nodded before looking back towards Isabella. "[b]Levanta lo maniche e poi la camicia, l'orco.[/b]" [hider=Annabella] It was clear the guards were out of their depth. "[b]How do we tell if he's with the League,[/b]" you heard Captain Armonte call out to his men. They didn't have any concrete answer for him. "[b][color=7ea7d8]The League of Magic are blood mages, no sir? Check for bandages or cuts on his arms,[/color][/b]" One of the guards finally suggested. The captain turned back towards you. "[b]Lift his sleeves and then his shirt, Orc,[/b]" he commanded. As you went to head his command you could feel a warmth stirring from the mage. His eyes were glassy, and his stare was blank. [/hider] [hr] [hider=Karlus] You couldn't understand a gods' forsaken word of their language. Ten hells, what were they planning? The first few exchanges seemed calm enough, but eventually their words didn't matter. Nothing did. It all turned to dust in the vacuum of the cosmos. Ɏøᵾ ȼøᵾłđ fɇɇł ħɇɍ ᵽᵾsħɨnǥ ŧħɍøᵾǥħ. [center][h3][color=39b54a]Ƀᵾɍn ɨŧ đøwn. Ƀᵾɍn Ⱥłł øf ŧħɇm đøwn. Ŧħɇɨɍ wȺɍđs wɨłł nøŧ ᵽɍøŧɇȼŧ ŧħɇm. Wɇ wɨłł nøŧ ƀɇ ȼȺǥɇđ ȺǥȺɨn.[/color][/h3][/center] [sub]You could feel someone's hand rub gently on your arm.[/sub] [/hider]