Doyl

"I'll have you know Sir Darius was knightly as hell," Doyl grunts with a scowl. "This one time his sword got stuck in the corpse of a horse, so he snapped the blade an inch from the hilt and beat half a dozen revolting peasants to death with the pommel!" He raises his mug of booze, "Here's to Sir Darius!" and swigs it down with a grin. "Ah, that sure peels away the stew from your mouth! Good stuff."

For a moment Doyl looks befuddled, like he'd forgotten something.

"Wait, did you just say you have a girl? Ha! I knew you had a maiden stashed somewhere! So, where'd you hide her?"

Nicodemus

"Those must have been some terrble peasants..." Nicodemus mutters in his mug. His stomach lets out another demanding growl and as if by magic the barkeeper arrives with a steaming plate and places it infront of him. He thanks the barkeeper and quickly cuts a piece of the steak and stuffs it in his mouth with a satisfied groan.

"Mmmm.. This is really good", he mumbles mouth still full. Then he swallows and takes another bite. The fork stops halfway to his mouth and he looks at Doyl bewildered. And then he bursts out laughing.

"You really aren't very bright, are you? Even if I had stashed her somewhere, why would I tell you?" Nicodemus asks still chuckling but then his face turns serious and he looks at Doyl. "You would just go there with you knight friend and 'dip your wick in some quality meat', wouldn't you?" he smiles shortly. "But I can assure that if you as much as touched her, it would be the last thing you do".

The threat seems a bit odd coming from a string bean of a man but he seems oddly confident. Actually the whole speech seems a bit odd considering that the boy seems almost cripplingly shy with his stutter and all.

As quickly as the burst of words came, the moment is gone and Nicodemus seems to realize what he just said. He stuffs the steak and the potatos quickly in his mouth and washes them down with the rest of his ale.

"I'm s-sorry... I should g-g-go", he stutters again and raises from his chair to leave and grabs his bag.

Updated 4 July 2013 (21:07)

Doyl

Doyl takes hold of Nicodemus' bag with a jerk. Through clenched teeth he growls, "Big words from a twerp that couldn't take a single punch!" Then the snarl turns into a grin. "But you'd try anyway, wouldn't you? You'd happily die mangled and broken just to keep the wench to yourself. Ha," he cries merrily, "you've got big balls for a small gnat!" He lets go of the bag and wags a finger twice.

"You can keep your little lady, twerp. Now sit down and have a pint."

Updated 5 July 2013 (00:17)

Nicodemus

Without a word Nicodemus jerks his bag back. He presses his lips in a thin line and looks hesitantly at the chair in front of him. Slowly he sits down and carefully sets her bag back on the floor.

"Yes, I-I would really die for her", he says quietly staring at the table and frowns like had jus relized the meaning of those words. "But I'm not so sure I would be the bloody mess on the floor", he says jokingly raising his gaze back to the other man, hint of a smile playing on his lips.

Updated 5 July 2013 (11:36)

Doyl

"Maybe some day we'll find out," he answers with a grin.

As the bartender approaches, Doyl starts rummaging through his backpack. "Now, where is that purse..." he mutters, and fishes out a blood-spattered pair of boots, an ornate helmet and a grappling hook before he finds a small leather pouch. He gives it a quick shake, and when it fails to jingle he gives it a quick sniff. Disgusted, he tosses it onto the table and plunges back into the pack. "Ha!" he exclaims as he reveals a leather purse, this one jingling as it should. He takes a couple of coins from the purse and tosses them to the bartender.

He takes a swig of ale. "Are all you wizards so keen on foul-smelling bits of beasts," he asks, pointing at the pouch, whose unpleasant odour now reaches Nicodemus as well.

Nicodemus

"Let's hope not..." Nicodemus mutters and turns his attention to the bartender. He makes a swift movement with his hand and there appear three coins that he gives to the bartender.

"That's for the ale and the meal. And I would also like a room for the night, and a bath if possible."

The bartender bites the coins to make sure that the coins are real and then puts them in a pouch that's hanging from his belt. Then he tells Nicodemus that someone will come to show him to his room when he's ready. Then Nicodemus turns his attention back to Doyl, whose company he has started to find... tolerable. Despite his rude manners and vulgar speech.

"Not all of us", he answers with distaste towards his certain fellow wizards clear in his voice. "Me, for example, I'm into more practical magic. May I?" he asks reaching for the foul smelling pouch.

Doyl

"Go right ahead," he says, poking the offensive pouch toward his companion. "Enjoy your bat shit. Veeria was really into bat shit. Odd girl, but anyone who can turn bat shit into balls of fire is fine with me, as long as they're not tossing them my way. That's when I need to turn buggers into a bloody mess, ha!" His grin is part wistful, part mirthful. He raises his mug. "To Veeria the Bat Shit Insane, she put up a good fight!" The toast is followed by a long series of gulps and a hearty burp.

"Be careful with that stuff, or you'll stink so bad your lady love will toss you out to sleep in the yard again, no matter how many baths you take! Hahaha!"

Nicodemus

Nicodemus graps the pouch and wrinkles his nose at the smell. Carefully he opens the pouch, peeks in quickly closes it and pushes it over the table back to Doyl. Then he takes a long gulp from his mug, as if to wash away the disgusting smell.

"So that's what ha-happened to her..." the wizard says. "I met her once or twice... and I agree with you on that bat shit insane part", and raises his mug with Doyl and takes a much smaller gulp.

"And I must say she wasn't a very good wizard, anybody can lit bat shit in fire. You don't need to be a wizard for that", Nicodemus almost snorts.

Doyl

"Well, she must've improved since your last meeting. You should've seen what she did to that one homestead these Orcs were hiding in. The rest of us, we were creeping up on them; we were just over the fence when BOOM! The whole house is in green flames." There is an excited Gleam in Doyl's eyes.

"A funny-coloured fire, but burned good and hot: I swear the stone chimney had melted in places!" Doyl's expression turns sour. "Could've used less heat, that's for sure. She burned up all our loot! No matter how funny people look when they're on fire, the laughs weren't worth all the spidersilk those buggers were hauling.." He lifts his pint with a wistful sigh, takes a swig, and adds with a grin, "She turned entertaining and profitable in the end, though."

Doyl looks back at Nicodemus and asks with a wink, "So, how well did you know Veeria, then? You seem like her type, all scrawny and stuttery."

Nicodemus

"That sounds like dragon fire. Nasty stuff that... " Nicodemus says thoughtfully and pushes his glasses up his nose. "It burns almost everything and not even that difficult to make. Very dangerous if you don't know how to handle it", he continues.

"But I still don't understand for what she needed that bat shit", he says and takes a gulp from his mug.

Nicodemus frowns at the Doyl's question, like he doesn't quite understand what the other one just said. "How well did I know her? Not that well really. Only met her couple of time like I said. She was more friend of my parents", Nicodemus says and hiccups. "How did you meet her?"

Doyl

"Well, there was this fine brawl going in The Miller's Daughter - the coziest whorehouse in Kerrick, by the way - when all of a sudden this woman in robes shoves into me. So I give her the old elbow-in-the-face, you know, and toss her over a table. Then I was just getting back into the fray when this ugly, walrus-whiskered bastard in splint mail bowls into me and jumps onto the table. Couldn't let that sort of thing go, now could I? So I dragged him down and gave him a piece of my mind until he stopped moving." Doyl wags a finger at the bartender, finishes his pint and adds, "I had a dragon-shaped bruise on my forehead for a week from that nosepiece on the bugger's helmet." He rubs his brow. "Headbutting a man in a helmet isn't such a great idea in the long run, but it did show the prunt's buddies not to mess with me, so they buggered off"

"But yeah, Veeria. Well, when the fun dried up she came up to me, nose bloody and eye bruised, and hired me as a bodyguard for a good bit of gold. Not a bad night!" He jiggles the coin purse and grins, "And she just keeps on giving! Ha!"

Doyl takes a swig from his fresh pint, looks increasingly jolly and asks, "Your folks recruit muscle from whorehouses, too? You wizardly lot don't much like to dirty your skinny little hands."

Nicodemus

The wizard rolls his eyes at Doyl, clearly not impressed by his violent story. Though he does cough a bit at the dragon-shaped bruise.

"No, my folks don't hire bodyguards from whorehouses", Nicodemus sounds a bit offended and takes a sip from his mug. "Veeria seems to be an exception in that case as well... Though it is quite true that we don't like to 'get our hands dirty', like you put it. It is only so much you can defend yourself with magic in a tough spot. Sometimes it's just better to hire someone to fight for you if it comes to that. We wizards like to train our minds more than our bodies, and not everyone of us is a war mage".

Nicodemus goes quiet for a moment and looks thoughtfully at Doyl and then downs the rest of his beer.

"Actually..." he hesitates a bit but then continues. "I am going to the King's city and it's still at least two weeks from here... And roads around here can be quite dangerous. And I really don'like that forest out there...", he nodds toward the front door. "How about you joined me?" he pauses for moment and pushes his glasses up his nose. "I can pay", he adds quickly.

Doyl

"We'll see if you can," Doyl says with a smirk. "You managed this far through The Midnight Wood. So why do you want extra help? As I see it, you either lost your previous companions, made some new enemies, or simply chickened out when you found yourself all on your lonesome in a big bad wood, ha! So which is it?" he asks and takes a swig.

Silme

The door to the Inn opens quickly allowing a chill breeze and a tall shadow to enter. Water drips off the figures cloak onto the floor creating an ever expanding puddle. As the hood of the cloak is removed, the face of an Elf is revealed. Through hazel eyes the Elf scans the bar as he wrings out his long brown hair. With a bow on his back and a blade at his side, he seems to be travelling far too light for someone who has ventured this far into the Wood.

The Elf spies Nicodemus and Doyl at their table and nods his head toward Nicodemus in recognition although says not a word to anyone on his way to the fire. Sitting comfortably by the Minstrel, the Elf casually takes in his surroundings.

Updated 20 July 2013 (02:10)

Nicodemus

"Well... Like I said, these roads can be quite dangerous and two is always better than one.." he says nonchalantly and avoiding Doyl's question.

When the breeze touches Nicodemus' neck he shivers and turns to look at the door. He manages to catch the elf's nod before he quickly turns back to Doyl slightly panicing look on his face.

"Bugger.." he mutters and buries his head in his hand.

Doyl

"True enough," Doyl concurs, "'two is one, one is none', as a friend of mine used to say."

Doyl glances at the Elf and asks, "Someone you need protecting from, by any chance, or does he just remind you of buggery? Ha!" Pleased with his wit, Doyl drowns a chuckle with long swig from his pint.

The young wizard raises his head from his hands and his ears turn pink at Doyl's question. He looks scandalised. "I-I don't do that!" Nicodemus squeaks his face flushing even redder. He glances nervously at the elf sitting in the corner.

Doyl

Doyl lifts his pint in a grinning salute toward Nicodemus and gets up with a burp. His legs aren't quite as steady as they were when he arrived, and he manages to give his axe a kick on his way toward Silme.

He walks up to the Elf, smelling of rank sweat and stale beer. "See that twerp over there?" he asks pointing at Nicodemus, "He was boasting about having a maiden - did he mean you?" Doyl bursts into a drunken roar of a laugh.

Updated 22 July 2013 (02:01)

Silme

Silme peers across the near haze of the Inn and takes note of the sign by the bar and subsequently raises a finger. When the ale is placed before him, he nods saying, "Hail and well met. Could I trouble you for a pint of mead if you happen to have some. I'd also like some bread and cheese if you would be so kind."

As the barkeep proceeds back to his station Silme passes the ale to the minstrel, "with my compliments friend."

Watching the near dwarf-like figure approach, the Elf stealthily places a hand on the hilt of the blade at his hip. Hearing Doyl's words Silme appears puzzled. Doing his best to stifle the smell coming from the man he says, "nay friend, although I do not believe I fully comprehend your meaning. If this is some jest I'm afraid I do not understand." Nodding towards Nicodemus he continues, "our paths crossed briefly in the woods and until that day, I had not met him before."

Updated 22 July 2013 (04:41)

Doyl

"Paths crossed briefly, eh? So that's how it is," Doyl says with a wicked grin and turns to shout to Nicodemus "Don't worry, twerp, buy me a pint and your fair maiden'll never find out what you get up to on your travels! Bwahahaha*snort*" He lifts his pint for another swig but is interrupted by a fit of raucous laughter.