Twhirtley — Roleplayer Guild

The Lieutenant Knight looked at Gregory with a lemon sucking scowl. She didn't yet know what this business was about, but one of her citizens was at the heart of it, so naturally, he would receive her ire until this situation was completed. Perhaps even after. Lieutenant Vegarra was well known for taking her duty so seriously, that she held grudges against those that disturbed the peace. She gestured with her right hand to the roofs, her left resting on her hilt, "As you can see, Whitetail, you have company. Do finish your business quickly, you know how nervous Green Fall' villagers can be."

The large male looked down at Gregory, bowed his head, folding his wings lightly over his shoulders, a very formal gesture of a peaceful greeting amongst their kind. "I am Krigar Stonetongue." This name wasn't known to the Lieutenant, nor to Gregory. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see her squire checking through the Stone Crest registry records for the name. "We, our kind," looking around at his brethren, "Need you to help us clear up a small... matter." 

Vegarra's eyes were ever watchful, watching the gargoyle's every movement and facial expression. It wasn't easy, the flying statues being a rather pensive race. She already didn't like the vague tone of his words. He continued, "Consider it... a cultural difference. Normally this would be of no issue to us, or involve you, but you've been asked by name. Some kin of yours. If you do not mind, might you take flight with us?" Gregory would know that that last question wasn't as one dimensional as it seemed. It was a common phrase among his kind, indicating a desire to speak in private. Gargoyles never asked to fly with one another. They just did it. 

Krigar nodded at Vegarra, "Apologies for any startling we may have caused." With a powerful launch of legs and wings, he shot straight up into the air, and began flying northwest, his companions all joining him in silence, save for the flapping of their wings. Vegarra stepped away from Gregory, moving over to her squire, just beside the tavern. Whispering, "Find me the Treggers."

A chuckle gave way to two men stepping out from the alley, "We already know what you want, shall you be joining us?" Vegarra nodded, and the brothers smirked, "Five slips, at the Letvin nursery." Her squire quickly departed to fetch her supplies, as she quickly assessed what she was about to get into. She never knew gargoyles to cause trouble, but these were different times, with rumors of magic and old enemies abound. She was taking no chances.
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