When she received the little eskimo-smooch from the lizardman, Druid Girl smiled awkwardly and her cheeks flushed - she also let out a soft giggle at the sensation. Big Red's muzzle wasn't exactly moist or soft like that of a horse or mule, but it had a certain scaly feel, which was rare to touch, since reptiles like snakes and lizards weren't as comfortable or prone to letting you touch them as most mammals in the wild. Still, she decided it felt nice. Perhaps he was a big old softie deep down after all?
After the process of signing on for the quest was done, and instructions were given on where to go, the group's bouncy and boisterous archer led the way. Exiting the guild, they started heading for the center of Palisade Town, following the main road. The streets were even emptier now than thy had been back when they got back from ditch-duty, and a lot more lights shined and glowed from windows, doors and cracks in walls. As they walked, the road eventually turned from cobblestone to proper, flat stone bricks, and the houses grew progressively larger and more impressive as well.
It made sense though, they were in the heart of the town now, where the rich merchants, nobles and town officials lived. Obviously, those with power and wealth had larger and more impressive dwellings than those who worked the fields, were day-laborers or were otherwise lower on the hierarchical ladder of social status. Being rich also meant you lived closer to the garrison, which meant guards could respond more quickly to crime and villainy that occured here in the posh and wealthy part of time. Speaking of the garrison, they were rolling up on it quickly.
A large, rectangular stone building, reminiscent of a keep without towers. It had two small buildings adjacent to it though, but these were made out of wood - likely extensions or add-ons built as the town grew and the need for more men and more space increased. There was a black-iron fence, roughly seven feet tall, with spiked tips like spearheads, surrounding the structure. There also seemed to be a courtyard or other open area on the backside, but given that our heroes entered through the front door, they didn't exactly see.
A sign near the entrance, with two crossed swords over a kite shield, was the emblem for the guardshouse. The door was a thick, oaken and weatherworn thing, complete with an iron ring for knocking and a slidable slit for peeping out from the inside, in case you wanted to keep the door shut but see who was banging. Still, there was no fuss in getting inside, as the guard stationed outside let the trio in as soon as they mentioned that they were there to help with the quest.
Inside the garrison proper, things were rather.... Bleak... A very spartan interior, with no real wall-hanging, tapestries or even carpets. Dark, dull wood floors and grey, empty walls. Walking into the first main room after getting inside, they found a reception-like desk with haggard, middle-aged man (with a receding hairline) sitting at it. After introducing themselves and being told where the Captain was, tehy left to climb a flight of stairs to the second floor. Once there, they followed a hallway until they reached the room at the very end.
The archer wasted no time and burst into the room, giving a make-shift salute and declaration of her readiness to serve. The lizardman was... Less enthusiastic about the whole thing and had a look of boredom or perhaps apathy. Druid Girl entered last, standing next to her two companions and doing nothing in particular, except giving a soft, friendly smile and an affirmative nod towards their new employer.
The Captain of the Guard, as it were, was sitting at a heavy-looking desk, littered with papers, parchment, ink wells, quills, books, an hourglass, scrolls and other knick-knacks and office-type apparel. He had been busy scribbling something in a thick-looking book when the three adventurers had barged in, causing him to cease his writing and look up at them - half annoyed, half confused.
"Wha- Oh, right.. The patrol." He said, a deep and low voice with a surprising amount of base to it. He set the quill into one of the inkwells and straightened his posture. He was a man in his early-to-mid fourties, a glorious moustache and a well-groomed goatee. His hair was of a darker brown, though streaks of grey could be hinted here and there. His eyes were that of healhy hazel and his face looked like it'd been chiseled out of stone, with a jawline so square you could mistake it for a brick. His physique was rather average otherwise, strong but not overly muscular, nor exceptionally tall - rather average actually. He was wearing a uniform with the guards' emblem, along with two small gold brooches, one on each shoulder - shaped like stars.
"Well then, I take it you're the adventurers the guild sent over to cover the shift some of my boys are too sick to carry out?" He asked, rising from his seat, the wooden chair slightly screeching as it was pushed back.
"That's right. We saw and accepted the notice posted on the guild' bard." Druid Girl said. "But, if you don't mind me asking... What exactly happened to your men?" She asked quizzically, tilting her head sideways.
"Ah, well... Those idiots went and overdid it at the pub. Had a contest to see who could down the most flagons. The end result being that they all conked out, puked their guts out and are in such a sorry state now that they can't perform their duties." The captain said, almost cringing at his own words as he placed a hand over his face in both shame, disbelief and disgust. "Anyway, back to what I want from you three." He said, quickly regining his composure and turing to look each of them in the eye.
"What I need is for you to patrol the streets of the town, from now until the green moon's at its zenith. At that time, your shift ends and some of my lads, who aren't sickly drunk and hungover, will come to relieve you." The captain explained. "You start here at the Garrison, work your way clockwise through the town, and come back here at the end of your shift. Remember though, you'll be representing us Guardsmen here, anything and everything you do will come back and end up at my desk. So don't go doing anything you shouldn't!" The man stated dryly. "If you see a burglar, you apprehend him, you don't lop his head off. You find a pair of drunks dishing it out in alley? You break'em up and bring them back here to sleep it off. Only time you get to draw blood is if someone attacks you, or if they're a rapist or murderer. Otherwise, I won't accept any bloodshed from my guards, that understood?" The Captain finished, looking at each of them in turn.
He then pointed to one of the room's walls, on which hung a half-dozen or so round shields, each with the guards' crest on it.
"I think you got your own weapons, but you'll each be taking one of those shields with you as your 'uniform'. Sorry to say, but we don't have suits of chainmail for lending." The old fogey said, slightly smirking at his own joke. "Any qestions? Otherwise, pick a shield and get out and patrol my streets, guardsmen."
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