In disgust Nakaida shoved back the hood of her drenched cloak, her hair just as wet as the rest of her. For the last hour she had clenched her teeth, determined not to let them chatter; and afraid that should she speak they would expose the fact that she was colder than she could ever remember being in her life, she pointed silently to a squat brick building. It was singularly unattractive as was the rest of Northkeep, a cold square lump planted in the mud as though some god had discarded it.

A weather-worn sign, barely visible through the drenching fog of rain, proclaimed its name as the Crossed Swords, below an emblem of such. "Typical," muttered Nakaida darkly, urging her horse through the puddles and hunching her shoulders against the biting wind and pouring rain.

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Naidele couldn't keep the scowl off her face as she shook her rain soaked curls away from her face. She absolutly hated the rain and being wet, and now she felt as if she had been dunked into a river. She wanted nothing more than to get a room in an inn and dry herself by a roaring fire. Of course, she could have started a fire in her palm right then, and it would have been fueled by her power and therefore untouched by the rain, but that would certainly draw eyes, something that she didn't want.

Naidele had decided almost instantly that she didn't like the city of Northkeep. It was bleak and dreary, and in a sense forbodeing. Then more than ever, she longed for her beautiful and cheery home on the Isle. Seeing that home again seemed like a dream that was more and more going out of her reach.

Naidele looked in the direction that Nakaida pointed. The Crossed Swords. It didn't look very welcoming or comfortable, but a shiver ran down her spine and she was reminded of just how cold and wet she was. She supposed that any inn would do as good as any other as long as it was a place to stay. "I suppose it will have to do," she muttered as she urged her horse to follow the others towards the inn.

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I'm back!

The none too congenial stable boy, having been jerked to vigilance by Orindil's fist connecting with his shoulder, took their horses and scurried away to the stables. With relief the weary travelers entered the Crossed Swords.

Atypical of most boisterous common rooms, the tavern of the Crossed Swords reeked of the same rigidness that characterized the rest of Northkeep. Warriors aplenty ranging from knights to sellswords - the trend punctuated by farmers and merchants as well - occupied the tables. They conversed over their drink in low voices. More than one eyed the new arrivals with blatant wariness.

Not to mention that all the seats by the single blazing fireplace were taken.

"Rooms for the night and the warmest food you have," Orindil said, glancing at his companions for any objections before passing over the coins.

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Firelight glinted on the coins as they were slipped into the innkeeper's money pouch, and Nakaida pointedly ignored the turning heads of those that sat by the fireplace. She and Naidele were conspicuously female, a trait very few of Northkeep's inmates embodied.

Nakaida would have retreated straight to their rooms, the quality of which was dubious but better than the musty, crowded common room - but she was ravenously hungry. Even for the lukewarm stew the barmaid (likely the only other female present) delivered once they were seated, mostly half-cooked potatoes with a few token chunks of some unnamed meat thrown in.

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(( Ok, I am very, very confused... Help? Please?))

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You may (or may not) know me elsewhere as Elfpen

((I believe we are in some sort of tavern...not to clear myself....just stick by me, SG! ))

Aeryn's shaggy black wet hair was in his eyes, which made him able to glanced around the room. He didn't like how the people stared at them and he gave anyone a hard, cold glare that glared towards him or any of the Keepers, or Orlindil or Khienro.

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Just became a college freshman; be on sparingly

Khienro sheepishly ate a peice of bread given to him. Looking causiously around, he tried to protrey an innocent picture as he expertly serveyed his surroundings. He supposed this place was somehow touched by Okandar, but it really remimned him of his home in some way. Once done with his bread, he began working on a plate of meat. Sitting down next Naidele, he said between bites,

"Why do you think the godess told you to come here?"

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You may (or may not) know me elsewhere as Elfpen

Naidele discomfort increased upon entering the common room of The Crossed Swords. Although she had limited experience with taverns and the like, when she thought of the common room of a tavern, she didn't think of it like this. Despite the large number of people occupying it, the common room was chillingly dreary, not the boistrous and rowdy place that she would have expected.

She was aware of the looks that the men gave her and Nakaida, and she tried to ignore them. Occasionally one's eyes would linger too long, and she did her best to fix him with an icy glare despite her nervousness. The sooner they were in their rooms and away from these people, the better.

Although it bothered her, the fact that most of the men were probably staring at her and Nakaida because they were women was not what worried her most really. She knew it was silly, but she felt as if she was branded for what she was, that everyone could somehow tell who she was. She knew that there was really no way, but still she couldn't help but feel anxious.

Later when they sat down to eat (a meal that was rather lacking in its quality), Naidele ate for the most part quietly, trying pointedly not to look at any of the other guests in the common room. She was lost in her thoughts. She was drawn to attention when she heard Khienro's voice. She looked around to make sure that no one was near enough to hear his words. Then she told him, "I don't know." She lowered her voice and gave him a meaningful look. "But we shouldn't speak of such things where we don't know who else might be listening." Her voice was gentle but firm. She gave him a small smile to soften the rebuke.

[/i]

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I'm back!

Khienro caught on.

"Of course." He said, quietly whispering. "Uh.. Do you think we should use alernative identities while we stay here? Who knows how many spies Okandar could have hiding in the woodwork." He whispered this very quietly, taking the 'hiding in the woodwork' bit seriously."

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You may (or may not) know me elsewhere as Elfpen

Aeryn still ate quietly, being "on gaurd", if you wanted to call it that. While Khienro and Naidele spoke in hushed whispers quickly, Aeryn kept a look out for anyone in the tavern that might be a threat to them, or that seemed to about to cause trouble. His eyes darted from left to right as he took a small bite from the bread he was given. He sighed quietly as he finished his meal.

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Just became a college freshman; be on sparingly

"There..." came the sibilant hiss from a slender figure robed in gold-trimmed crimson robes. His hood pulled over his head, his hands folded in his voluminous sleeves, he stared across the common room at the group that'd just walked in.

A second figure stirred in the shadows. The lambent firelight revealed a similarly clad figure, but in blue. The woman gestured with a shapely hand that glittered with expensive rings. "Do you think this wise?" her voice was low, disciplined. "Our lord is vanquished. What have we to gain by serving him still?"

"Vanquished?" A laugh from the Blood Warlock. "Thwarted, but hardly vanquished. His power lingers in the wasteland. It is manifesting as we speak. The elementals from the plane rift shall rise in potent soon enough. But until then, we shall follow the Keepers until they die."

"An event soon in coming," conceded the Sapphire Sorceress. With an indulgent smile, she flicked her wrist and launched into a spell. Her tapering finger pointed across the room, towards the fireplace. There, at the receiving end of her spell, was a wealthy paladin...

-----------

Trying hard to suppress himself shivering from the cold, Orindil sat hunched over his food. He sampled the stew, but made a point not to touch the meat. He was jerked back to earth by a furor on the other side of the common room, near the blazing fireplace.

An imposing paladin armored in shining silver had his gleaming greatsword drawn and was now threatening the surrounding patrons. "My gold!" he bellowed in a voice that carried across the expanse. "Which one of you thieves stole it?"

Not our problem, Orindil thought irritably, turning back around in his seat -

- until he saw the impossibly bulky coin pouch that'd just now appeared in Naidele's lap.

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Naidele was about to answer Khienro's question, but a commotion near the fireplace caught her attention. A paladin was furiously demanding the return of his gold. Naidele glanced around at the faces of the patrons in the common room, thinking that it could have been any of them but that it wasn't really her business nor her place to interfere.

Then she looked down at her lap.

Her eyes went wide as she saw a large pouch of gold laying in her lap. How had it got there? She quickly covered the pouch with both her hands, not knowing what to do. Her eyes looked helplessly at her companions. She didn't know how it could have gotten in her lap. She had been sitting here the whole time. What was she supposed to do? If she stood up and attempted to return it to the paladin, he would certainly think her a theif. He wouldn't believe that it had just appeared in her lap.

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I'm back!

Aeryn also saw what appeared in Naidele's lap. He looked around and quickly grabbed it and put it in his own. He looked at her and said, "No need for you to get hurt over what you have not done." He said.

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Just became a college freshman; be on sparingly

Nakaida, sharply observing this alarming new turn of events, eyed the enraged paladin calculatingly. With a few swift actions, her expression never changing, she snatched the pouch from Aeryn's lap and in one gesture it suddenly lay beneath an abandoned table.

"Air's malleable," she muttered under her breath, to all appearences returning to her food. But no more touched her lips. Suddenly every muscle was tense. That had not been normal, and if at all possible she intended to find out just how so.

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"There it is!" one patron cried, eager to please the obviously wealthy paladin. He pointed underneath the abandoned table.

At that, a few sniggers from the thugs and sellswords went around the room.

Flushing red under his plumed helm, the victimized man stooped to pick up his gold. "It couldn't have gotten there by itself," he growled. "Witchcraft is at work here." This, of course, engendered an even larger furor. More than a few patrons leaped to their feet and began pointing fingers.

In the shadowy corner where they'd been sitting unnoticed, both the Blood Warlock and the Sapphire Sorceress spoke a few quick words of magic and quietly slipped away.

"Time to go," Orindil muttered, rising from his seat. Keeping well away from the scene in the center of the commonroom, he beckoned to the others and discreetly started over to the staircase that led up to their rooms.

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Aeryn mentioned for Naildele to go first as he watched the men point fingers.

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Just became a college freshman; be on sparingly