Luthais and Pierce in the Prancing Pony
========================== Bree Time ==========================
Real time: Tue Oct 18 20:31:10 2005
Bree time: Early Night <9:33> on Monday of Summer - June 6,1436
Moon Phase: Waning Crescent Moon
===============================================================
Breelands Weather:
The early night summer air is very hot and dry around you. The dark sky is overcast and dreary. The moon is above the horizon and in its waning crescent phase.
[Pierce(#32225)]
[Luthais(#27587)]
Outside, by the sign of the Prancing Pony:
[Pierce(#32225)]
The setting of the summer sun paints the edges of the night sky with thin whisps of crimson. Despite the deepening shadows and the promise of night, the evening offers no respite from the heat. The windows of the Prancing Pony are wide open with the hopes of catching any hint of an evening breeze. The light pours out and spots the ground outside with golden patches. Through one of these patches, a tall figure passes, momentarily lighting his grey cloak with a yellowed hugh. Pierce Rushlight stops outside the archway to the Pony and looks back and forth along the way, as it looking for someone.
[Luthais(#27587)]
Garbed in clothes as dark as the evening promises to be, Luthais Graywelle would be a dark figure even without his austere attire. Even in the shadows, a healthy sheen of summer sweat coats this man's face, most likely due to the fact that he has yet to loosen even a single shirt button. His walk is stiff and rigid, and his fingers seem to twitch uncomfortably at his sides as he walks, his gaze carefully taking in all things, while seemingly not interested in a single one. As that piercing gaze falls on the burly figure of Pierce Rushlight, himself alight from the light provided by the inn, Luthais seems to take interest and speeds up his walk in his direction, a slight smile painted onto his visage.
[Pierce(#32225)]
A large cheer rolls out of the common room through it's windows and catches Pierce's attention momentarily. He looks towards the window allowing a brief scowl to cross his face. The blacksmith turns away from the window and takes up his vigilant sentry at the street. He notes the figure moving towards him, but makes no attempt to greet him. Instead Pierce's eyes continue to rove the area.
[Luthais(#27587)]
Luthais himself stops short for a moment to scan the area at the outburst of sound from the Inn, and scowls darkly for a moment, most likely for having to stop at all. His greedy eyes reacquire their target, and an even more wolfish grin seeps onto his face as he closes the gap between he Pierce.
Stepping up to the larger man, Luthais has to crane his neck slightly to look Pierce in the eye. "So, you're the one people whisper about, are ye?" The grin that paints his slimy visage only widens, now lighting up his eyes with its sinister mirth. A spindly hand emerges from within a well-hemmed sleeve, and Luthais' voice is its typical nasally tenor as he greets the man. "Luthais Graywelle, of Combe. I must say, this is the first time I've spoken to an accused murderer face to face. A pleasure, indeed."
[Pierce(#32225)]
The final approach of the thin figure catches the blacksmith's attention, and his eyes cease their roaming. The greeting settles sourly on Pierce and while he extends his rough hand to the smaller man, his eyes narrow slightly and his jaw tenses. He pauses long enough to swallow before he answers, his words metered slowly and cautiously: "Whisper yes, but I ain't a murderer. It was an accident, an' I didn't kill 'im. If it weren't I wouldn't be standin' here." He allows his eyes to briefly look over top of the man and scan the area before quickly returning to the inquisitor. "An' it ain't no pleasure when it's you their whisperin' about." He shakes his head, sincerely but slowly.
[Luthais(#27587)]
"Mmm, indeed. Come, I'm sure it has been too long since someone bought you an ale, hm?" Though less pronounced, the corners of Luthais' lips twitch involuntarily into a mealy smile, and his rake-thin form seems to twitch, either with anticipation or from some kind of nervous disease. He wipes at the profuse sweat that slicks his brow with the back of his hand, and carefully flicks the moisture onto the road, careful not to damage his finery.
[Pierce(#32225)]
Pierce shakes his head, clearly confused by the offer. "I, uh. . ." He squints at the man, despite the darkness around them. "Well, " he folds his thick arms across his chest, straining the sleeves of the blue shirt he's wearing. "I guess so" is his final reply.
[Luthais(#27587)]
"Ah, good. I am a bit parched myself, and peckish from walking today. Come, come, let us find a table, hm?" Without waiting for Pierce to follow, Luthais makes a hasty line toward the Inn's front door. As the creaks of the hinges make ghastly shrieks in the stuffy air, the light from the entryway floods like a golden rectangle on the dusty ground. He leaves the door ajar, waiting for the man to follow him into the Inn.
[Pierce(#32225)]
Still unsure of what exactly is happening, Pierce lags behind the man by a few paces. He reaches the door and hesitates as he sees the activity in the inn. A snarl curls at the edges of his lips and he steps in, pulling the door closed behind him. He pauses briefly, letting his eyes adjust before he plunges into the common room, only to be assaulted by the boisterous group already present.
[Luthais(#27587)]
Pushing by drunken hooligans seems a chore to Luthais, especially given the fact that he seems hell-bent not to have a single drop of ale or mead mar his expensive coat or breeches. Finally, after much evasive manuevering, he finds a "quiet" table in the corner, far away from the activity within the common room, and quickly flags down a reluctant serving girl.
[Pierce(#32225)]
The blacksmith winds his way thought the crowds of people towards the selected table. As he moves forward, some of the lesser men hush and move out of his way. Others merely stare at him warily. Pierce drops his eyes, but watches carefully as me makes his way to the corner. As soon as he passes out of arms reach, each small group of people resume their conversation. When he finally arrives at the table, all but the closest tables are back to normal. Pierce drags a chair out from the table and sits on it, his back against the wall, and his eyes scanning the room. His hands rest uneasily on the table.
[Luthais(#27587)]
The serving girl arrives at the same time as Pierce, and her wary look takes in both patrons. Luthais orders two ales in his typical overhanded way, flicking a thick copper coin in her direction which, naturally, falls on the Common Room floor. Turning his attention to his guest, Luthais smiles coldly. "Why ever do you look so nervous, hm? Something bothering you, friend?" He leans back in his chair, crosses his arms, and grins like some hideous beast, his helmet of hair shining in the well-lit chamber.
Real time: Tue Oct 18 20:31:10 2005
Bree time: Early Night <9:33> on Monday of Summer - June 6,1436
Moon Phase: Waning Crescent Moon
===============================================================
Breelands Weather:
The early night summer air is very hot and dry around you. The dark sky is overcast and dreary. The moon is above the horizon and in its waning crescent phase.
[Pierce(#32225)]
[Luthais(#27587)]
Outside, by the sign of the Prancing Pony:
[Pierce(#32225)]
The setting of the summer sun paints the edges of the night sky with thin whisps of crimson. Despite the deepening shadows and the promise of night, the evening offers no respite from the heat. The windows of the Prancing Pony are wide open with the hopes of catching any hint of an evening breeze. The light pours out and spots the ground outside with golden patches. Through one of these patches, a tall figure passes, momentarily lighting his grey cloak with a yellowed hugh. Pierce Rushlight stops outside the archway to the Pony and looks back and forth along the way, as it looking for someone.
[Luthais(#27587)]
Garbed in clothes as dark as the evening promises to be, Luthais Graywelle would be a dark figure even without his austere attire. Even in the shadows, a healthy sheen of summer sweat coats this man's face, most likely due to the fact that he has yet to loosen even a single shirt button. His walk is stiff and rigid, and his fingers seem to twitch uncomfortably at his sides as he walks, his gaze carefully taking in all things, while seemingly not interested in a single one. As that piercing gaze falls on the burly figure of Pierce Rushlight, himself alight from the light provided by the inn, Luthais seems to take interest and speeds up his walk in his direction, a slight smile painted onto his visage.
[Pierce(#32225)]
A large cheer rolls out of the common room through it's windows and catches Pierce's attention momentarily. He looks towards the window allowing a brief scowl to cross his face. The blacksmith turns away from the window and takes up his vigilant sentry at the street. He notes the figure moving towards him, but makes no attempt to greet him. Instead Pierce's eyes continue to rove the area.
[Luthais(#27587)]
Luthais himself stops short for a moment to scan the area at the outburst of sound from the Inn, and scowls darkly for a moment, most likely for having to stop at all. His greedy eyes reacquire their target, and an even more wolfish grin seeps onto his face as he closes the gap between he Pierce.
Stepping up to the larger man, Luthais has to crane his neck slightly to look Pierce in the eye. "So, you're the one people whisper about, are ye?" The grin that paints his slimy visage only widens, now lighting up his eyes with its sinister mirth. A spindly hand emerges from within a well-hemmed sleeve, and Luthais' voice is its typical nasally tenor as he greets the man. "Luthais Graywelle, of Combe. I must say, this is the first time I've spoken to an accused murderer face to face. A pleasure, indeed."
[Pierce(#32225)]
The final approach of the thin figure catches the blacksmith's attention, and his eyes cease their roaming. The greeting settles sourly on Pierce and while he extends his rough hand to the smaller man, his eyes narrow slightly and his jaw tenses. He pauses long enough to swallow before he answers, his words metered slowly and cautiously: "Whisper yes, but I ain't a murderer. It was an accident, an' I didn't kill 'im. If it weren't I wouldn't be standin' here." He allows his eyes to briefly look over top of the man and scan the area before quickly returning to the inquisitor. "An' it ain't no pleasure when it's you their whisperin' about." He shakes his head, sincerely but slowly.
[Luthais(#27587)]
"Mmm, indeed. Come, I'm sure it has been too long since someone bought you an ale, hm?" Though less pronounced, the corners of Luthais' lips twitch involuntarily into a mealy smile, and his rake-thin form seems to twitch, either with anticipation or from some kind of nervous disease. He wipes at the profuse sweat that slicks his brow with the back of his hand, and carefully flicks the moisture onto the road, careful not to damage his finery.
[Pierce(#32225)]
Pierce shakes his head, clearly confused by the offer. "I, uh. . ." He squints at the man, despite the darkness around them. "Well, " he folds his thick arms across his chest, straining the sleeves of the blue shirt he's wearing. "I guess so" is his final reply.
[Luthais(#27587)]
"Ah, good. I am a bit parched myself, and peckish from walking today. Come, come, let us find a table, hm?" Without waiting for Pierce to follow, Luthais makes a hasty line toward the Inn's front door. As the creaks of the hinges make ghastly shrieks in the stuffy air, the light from the entryway floods like a golden rectangle on the dusty ground. He leaves the door ajar, waiting for the man to follow him into the Inn.
[Pierce(#32225)]
Still unsure of what exactly is happening, Pierce lags behind the man by a few paces. He reaches the door and hesitates as he sees the activity in the inn. A snarl curls at the edges of his lips and he steps in, pulling the door closed behind him. He pauses briefly, letting his eyes adjust before he plunges into the common room, only to be assaulted by the boisterous group already present.
[Luthais(#27587)]
Pushing by drunken hooligans seems a chore to Luthais, especially given the fact that he seems hell-bent not to have a single drop of ale or mead mar his expensive coat or breeches. Finally, after much evasive manuevering, he finds a "quiet" table in the corner, far away from the activity within the common room, and quickly flags down a reluctant serving girl.
[Pierce(#32225)]
The blacksmith winds his way thought the crowds of people towards the selected table. As he moves forward, some of the lesser men hush and move out of his way. Others merely stare at him warily. Pierce drops his eyes, but watches carefully as me makes his way to the corner. As soon as he passes out of arms reach, each small group of people resume their conversation. When he finally arrives at the table, all but the closest tables are back to normal. Pierce drags a chair out from the table and sits on it, his back against the wall, and his eyes scanning the room. His hands rest uneasily on the table.
[Luthais(#27587)]
The serving girl arrives at the same time as Pierce, and her wary look takes in both patrons. Luthais orders two ales in his typical overhanded way, flicking a thick copper coin in her direction which, naturally, falls on the Common Room floor. Turning his attention to his guest, Luthais smiles coldly. "Why ever do you look so nervous, hm? Something bothering you, friend?" He leans back in his chair, crosses his arms, and grins like some hideous beast, his helmet of hair shining in the well-lit chamber.
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