Kirun and Bober sat down on a stone made chair.<font color=white>"Who do you think will win laddie?"</font> Bober asked his friend.

<font color=skyblue>Turin


"Well, I suppose that depends on how much money we can negotiate for. I would very much like to raise enough to buy some property right here and live within this quaint little town. There are many opportunities for one such as myself. The others can decide what they like with their share. They are free to choose as they like.

Why do you ask?"</font>

[ 05-01-2004, 04:41 PM: Message edited by: Larry_OHF ]

Thinking quickly, Terias Decides that the best course of action would be to throw the mace then cast a spell. He throws the mace on the face of one of the incoming trolls and hastily starts casting a fire spell on the second one.

For Terias in the arena and Kirun and Bober in the stands:

As you enter into the arena there is already a fight underway between several prisoners and a few trolls. Some bodies lie already on the ground, mostly prisoners but a troll too. The prisoners are chained together in pairs with various weapons. One of the pairs have weapons glowing with fire. The sword is only glowing but the mace is alight. The prisoner wielding the mace throws it into the face of a troll. Kirun and Bober if they look closely then they can see that the prisoner is Terias.

The mace flies towards the troll's head and then hits it. Directly in the eye. Howling in pain and blind to one of its eyes the troll runs away squashing a prisoner in the process, then runs into one of the sides of the arena knocking itself out cold. Terias then started casting a spell.

OOC: Terias has to decide what type of fire spell he is using (for example area effect or targeted, etc.)

For Turin and company:

<font color=black>"I ask because as guard captain of this encampment it is my duty to know what strangers are doing here. Now come my Lord must be growing impatient."</font> He opened the heavy wooden doors and led them in. Inside the building was richly decorated with mostly gold or silver decorations. Several guards stood around the corridor at the end of which there was another door, of approximately the same size and strength as the entry door. The guards saluted their captain who then led Turin, Robyn and Roland towards the door with Therlion being half pushed and half dragged behind the group. Two guards at the end of the corridor opened the door as they approached. Inside was a room even more decorated than the corridor before it. The room was about fifteen times forty meters (OOC: about 50-130 feet). A long table was placed in the middle of the room. People all around the table were eating their supper, servers stood around the tables jumping on every opportunity to serve the guests. The guests were mostly male with a few females. A vacant spot close to the end of the table had probably been occupied by the captain earlier.

At the end of the table on a seat a bit higher than the rest sat a man who just by his appearence generated a certain respect. He looked to be in his fifties with a short beard and short black hair. The man had a round face and a body which was not yet showing any signs of fatness. As the group approached his end of the table he turned to his dining companions, probably excusing himself for a few minutes and then stood up. With a movement of his hand he signaled something to the captain then went through a door behind the table. The captain turned to the group:<font color=black>"This way please."</font> He led the group the same way the man had left. The door had been left open and he went through it first, then followed two of his guards with Therlion then Turin, Robyn and Roland and finally three more guards. These three took up guard positions along the wall, while the two who had brought Therlion stayed close to him.

The room looked like a study with bookshelves along the wall. Most of the covers of the books were in languages that none of the group could understand. The man who had been at the head of the dining table was standing in front of a small fireplace in the room. <font color=lightgrey>"As you may have guessed I am Lord Easthome. It is not to my pleasure that I have to leave the dinner table during the dinner so lets just settle the affair with this elf and then how about you joining me and my guests at the dinner table and we discuss other matter there? How much do you want for the elf?"</font> The guard captain had by now positioned himself in a place from where he could easily defend his lord, and survey the whole situation.

Roland was about to speak but then reconsidred remembering that he nearly jepordized the mission by saying the wrong things back at the inn with the guard captain. He looked to Turin and then back at Easthome hoping he can handle this.

<font color=yellow>Robyn Stratsworth

Robyn observed everyone present in the room. She quickly dismissed the guards from her study as they were not the important ones. Instead she focused on Lord Easthome. On the outside he looked like the stereotypical lord of a few hundred people. But they had seen more on the way here. And then there was what the barman had said. She studied him deeply, looking beneath the surface of this man, who fate wanted was their enemy. She watched his movements and his facial expressions as he talked.

Then suddenly had it. From her years as training as an actor she could see that Lord Easthome was putting on an act. Was he really annoyed about having to leave the dinner table? Or did he move setting to his advantage? Had he wanted them to interrupt his feast to be able to negotiate better? She realised that every move the man made was calculated. That meant that he had already a price worked out he was willing to pay for Therlion. She needed to tell the others what she had observed. Robyn opted for a dangerous gamble. Just as Turin was about to speak she made a step towards the prisoner getting everyone's full attention immediately.

"For my family's best interest I must say that I am sure if you knew what this elf is capable of we would be able to get more money." - she walked over to Therlion. "You. Elf. Tell them what you told us. What you are good at." - she then turned to Lord Easthome. "Now if you'll excuse us we already know what the prisoner is good at, yet haven't had a time yet to discuss amongst ourselves what price would be acceptable." - at Easthome's nod of approval she turned to Turin and Sythe and in a whispered voice told them what she had just observed.</font>

<font color=skyblue>Turin

Turin was amazed at the wit of this woman. She had taken over the conversation, turned it around to give their team the advantage, and had bought them all enough time to continue trying to find a way out of this.

Turin was not a good negotiator. He had earned his reputation as a killer of evil beings, and was not educated in the fine arts of social aristicracy. Apparently, Robyn did favor these traits, and he decided that unless it was time to start killing these betrayers to humanity...it would be best to let Robyn continue her game. He listened and tried to think of something helpful, but could only think of his sword, and the hatred he had for this man that stood defiantly before him. He would give Robyn just one more minute to save the elf and get them into a better position, then he was going for blood.</font>

<font color=yellow>Robyn Stratsworth

Robyn saw the play of emotions on Turin's face and knew that he did not want to give over the elf. She put a hand on Turin's shoulder and whispered to him: "I am sure Therlion is a good elf, but sometimes sacrifices have to be made. Here we are outnumbered by enemies and cannot win. I suggest we give him over and then either count on his skills to escape or free him should the opportunity arise. But still you are the party leader so whatever decision you make I shall accept it."</font>

OOC: still waiting on Therlion's post in which he distracts Easthome and his men with what he is good at. Does not have to be true.

With the help of small magics, Therlion overheard the words Robyn said to Turin. Either turn suited him. If he was turned over to the humans as a captive he could get a chance to free the other slaves with his magic, and if he was set free he could do it from a different angle. But the expression on Turin's face warned him of another possibility. A fight, here and now. He has no intention of starting the fight, nor does he have any ambition towards fighting and ending this peacefully, but he was ready for both options.