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You checked in at Frostale Tarven under the name Jarrel. The rest of the day was uneventful. Regin, exhausted after the escaping from the poisonous death, slept soundly. Odin sat alone in the other room, considering the current issue at hand. The name "Happy Island" is perhaps a simple riddle, it surely spoke a name, an address, but the problem is where?
It was already nightfall, Byronas and Lucre would return soon. |
<font color="gray">Odin Magnus struggled to stay awake,
"Drat it all!" he muttered, "What could it mean? A reverse puzzle? A metaphorical puzzle? A coded puzzle? A nonsense puzzle? What, what, what?" What indeed.</font> |
perhaps you need to find a map
A quiet knock on the door at Odin's room |
The door slowly opened, a mid aged man peered his head in. "Master Magnus?"
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Regin sat up of bed..
*Hey spellthrower! You goota visitor, take care of him, will ye? I gotta sharpen me axe!* OOC>>All I have time to post, I'm afraid, I gotta study [img]tongue.gif[/img] [ 01-16-2002: Message edited by: Sir ReGiN ]</p> |
<font color="plum">Lucre had just checked in as Jarrel and was currently walking up the stairs to the room. He was thinking about the halfling at the Inn Of Nighthawks, "Happy Island", what kind of place was called that? Maybe some kind of city halfling term he hadn't heard of? As he was thinking Lucre bumped into a the back half of a man, the front half was poking into his room.
"Oops sorry mister!" He chirped in his high halfling voice,"I just need to get past."</font> |
Lucre noticed another robed figure near the corner further down. The person's face is covered in black silk, only a pair of beautiful dark blue eyes showing, watching intently. Judging the way this person carries herself, Lucre suspected her to be a female, perhaps one of high status.
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<font color="gray">Odin Magnus was going to response to the man, when suddenly, the sing-song voice of Lucre could be heard.
"Oops sorry mister! I just need to get past." The man seemed to be a little startled, and tried to retreat, but Odin got up quickly and managed to grab the man's clothes. Lucre meanwhile, seemed to be distracted by something outside and went out of sight. With a hushed voice, Odin spoke to the man, grateful that Regin was sharpening his axe, as it provided a convenient masking background sound for the conversation. "Have we met before?"</font> OOC: Odin is on his guard. One hand is still holding the man, the other in his robe, holding his dagger. |
The man coiled back, trying to break free from the mage's hold, but stopped struggling as he felt the mage's dangerous gaze upon him. "No...no, no, Master Magnus, we've never met." replied a nervous man "I've heard your reputation, and certainly wasn't expecting this."
Seeing his apparent attempt at humoring failed on the alerting sorcerer, he quickly cut to the point "My name is Sedan Creekly. I come with an urgent request. A very important person is in grave need of your talents. Now can we talk in private, please?" The man looked at Odin's questioning eyes. |
<font color="gray">Odin narrowed his eyes and examined the man carefully with his eyes, but did not let his guard down at any time.
"We booked this room under another name, and yet you somehow know my true name. The obvious conclusion is that you have been tailing us for quite some time, most likely under somebody else's instructions, and now you have the auducity to expect us to trust you and help you? Who sent you? How long have you been following us? What proof can you offer and show us to convince us that you are not some trickster trying to lure us into a trap? Finally, whatever you have to say, you can say it right here and right now. In front of everybody." At the end of his speech, Odin called Regin over and hollared for Lucre.</font> [ 01-18-2002: Message edited by: Dundee Slaytern ]</p> |
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