Though the rest of the band shifts uneasily at the approach of four more armed people, their leader makes a placating gesture before urging his horse towards the newcomers. "Well met indeed, my friends." He replies cheerfully, raising his own hand to return Anchor's gesture. A bronze-skinned half-elf, he give the group a quick, appraising glance before returning his attention to Marcon "You know, it's the strangest thing. I feel as though I know you from somewhere." After a brief, thoughtful moment he shrugs and resumes talking "Ah well, it is of no importance. My name is Xolkin Alassandar. As a token of my goodwill and friendship I will be forthright about my purpose here. You see, I and my companions are all mercenaries- bounty hunters, in truth- tasked with bringing a fugitive by the name of Kella Darkhope back with us to Waterdeep in order to face justice."

Sitting upright in his saddle and craning his neck, he glances around the town square as if expecting to see his quarry lurking behind an overturned cart. I must comment on how few people I've seen about. That, the wreckage, the blood splatters and those little goblinoid corpses leads me to believe this town has seen better days. If you would bring your people out of hiding, I would be more than happy to offer the aid of my men in repairing and rebuilding what we can once we've had a good look over them to make sure the criminal is not hiding among your people.

No sooner does he finish speaking than the door to the northernmost building- a large tavern bearing a wrought-iron sign with the name "Nightstone Inn" facing the square- flies open. In the doorway is the small figure of another goblin that apparently missed out on all the excitement up until this point. It takes a brief panicked glance back within the tavern as it stumbles out into the fading light. With a loud *THWANG* the goblin pitches face first into the dirt, a crossbow bolt sticking from its back.

Marcon quirks an eyebrow, but understanding finally dawns.

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Captain Alessander. We are just arrived in Nightstone ourselves to find that giants have abducted the populace and goblins cavort amidst the ruins. We go to rescue nany survivors, who I am sure will be grateful for your repairing and rebuilding."

The Tumari fighter slings his shield over his back, feeling satisfied in the explanation these men have offered.

"As to your Gella Darkhope, should we find her alive, we will return her here for your attentions. But, as Tiven Tivenson might point out, we cannot find someone whose appearance is unknown to us. Can you describe her?"

And not to be a nuisance, but might we also have this conversation at the inn? I seem to be recovering from a trivial light migraine, and could use a little bit of a rest. And it looks like the last resident has been evicted, so it should be quite nice in there.

"I'm not so sure of that..."

Anchor raised his voice, calling to whoever dispatched the last goblin from inside the inn.

"Come out, friend! The town itself has been cleared of these scavengers!"

Keeping an eye out for any other possible hidden crossbowmen, Theren asks:
Besides this criminal'ss appearance, perhaps you can also inform us of the crimes that they are wanted for?

"Describe her? Why, you can see for yourself- that's the villain right before your eyes! One of you heroic folk seize her!" Declares the good captain, ripping sword from scabbard and pointing at the doorway of the inn, where a woman has emerged to examine the fresh corpse. Wearing a set of brown monk's robes, the face you can see within the drawn hood is that of a Chondathan human. In one hand she carries a loaded crossbow, while a small winged serpent coils around the other arm.

"Drop the theatrics, you thick-headed ass. The townsfolk all jumped ship when the giants attacked, this lot are all just a bunch of vagabonds that showed up later looking for plunder." She says, ignoring the exaggerated gesticulating Alassandar had been doing while she glances over the rest of his party as if making a quick head count. "And most of them are in pretty rough shape as best I can tell from what I saw of their scuffle with the goblins earlier."

"Ah. Well. If that's the case." He responds, seeming almost disappointed to have to end his charade so soon. With a sharp gesture from his left hand, the rasping sound of six more swords being drawn can be heard. "I hereby claim this town in the name of the Zhentarim. Any objections?"

"None whatsoever. Please allow me a moment."

Marcon sets down his rucksack and rummages in it briefly. He pulls out a package, sealed and untampered.

"Mistress Darkhope, I was entrusted with this from Tenfinger Tomyris of Innarlith. Like the Herald in "Seven Letters", I present it to you with her compliments."

"I am but a humble cleric looking to heal and assist the folk of Nights tone as best I can. If you are to become those people, so be it." "But for now I am truly exhausted...May I?" Tortetarte asks, waving a hand toward the Inn.

"No objections from me."

Anchor replied as he looked between the towns new owners and his own group, unsure of where this day has led him.

"I still pLan on heading out to retrieve the towns previous inhabitants once we are rested, though. They may have issues with this occupation."

I have no objection.

Realizing they were in no condition to fight and also outnumbered, Theren decides that standing down is the safer option for now, even if he finds these cravens laying claim to an abandoned town after the people have been forced to flee despicable.

"Wonderful!" The captain exclaimed, clearly thrilled to have claimed ownership of an entire town for himself without having to do more than wave a sword around a bit to do so. "In that case, I would like you all to surrender your weapons for the time being- in the name of peace of course. I'm afraid tha-"

"No." Cut in Kella, not looking at either her Zhentarim allies or the caravan guards but instead peeking inside one corner of the package. She had initially taken the parcel with some mistrustful hesitance, which had abated once she got a brief look at what it contained. "They're friends. We can probably trust them far enough to not try anything overtly stupid. Let 'em keep their weapons.

"Oh. Er, alright then. I suppose if that's all settled, then be my guest." With that, he makes a broad gesture in the direction of the inn, which has clearly fallen victim to at least one boulder. Still, the building was large and sturdy, so there were likely at least a few rooms still intact. " I offer you all the hospitality my grand new town has available at the moment. If you do happen to end up running across any of my new subjects, do be so kind as to inform them of the change in management."

Tortetarte heads to the Inn, and takes inventory of his surroundings.

Anchor gives one last look at the new group and then follows Tortetarte into the Inn.

Theren turns away from the group and heads into the inn, looking for an intact room to rest and meditate upon the days events.

Bowing formally to Mistress Darkhope and nodding respectfully to Captain Alessander, Marcon follows his comrades into the inn. As Thorgen of Thay maintains, there is safety in numbers.

A peaceful night of sleep is what you are angling for and a peaceful night of sleep is what you get! Congratulations, none of you is murdered while you slumber! The last thing you would have seen before turning in for the night would be this merry band of bandits raising the drawbridge to the town and arguing among one another as to who got what watch during the night While Kella and Xolkin confer.

A good thing you all didn't do the same and waste precious hours deciding who would do what and when, since you are awakened at the tail end of your rest by the voice of Captain Alassandar bellowing from the main entrance to the tavern. "Oye, ya lazy fools, grab those weapons of yours we were so kind as to let you hang onto. There's a warband coming at us from the north. At least fifty or so orcs my men tell me, though we're having trouble getting an accurate count in this darkness. Regardless, they seem to be sizing up my town and will likely attack before dawn."

"The nobility of Orcs is clear," Treganne wrote, "in light of the savagery of Men."

Thinking of the seizure of Nightstone not twelve hours ago, Marcon chuckles as he girls himself in armor and equips himself. As before, he has his shield and sword, but will begin with the longbow ready.

Anchor awoke to Captain Alassander's shouting and pulled himself so that he was sitting on the side of bed. Normally such a call might inspire some haste, but from what he saw of the Captain's personality last evening Anchor doubted there was much truth to the : incoming orc attackers. :

Taking the time to stretch out his sore leg before dressing and putting on his brace, Anchor for a brief moment thought that he could smell the salt of a cool sea breeze. Something had changed since yesterday, and something had noticed him.

Shaking his head to clear his mind, Anchor grabbed his gear and headed downstairs to find out what exactly was going on.

Tortetarte sits up, and grumbles at this wonderful streak of luck he is having. First he gets wrecked by some puppies, then he concusses himself (rubs the side of his head), and now a bunch of orcs...?
Grabbing his mace and shield, Tortetarte decides it might be wise to sling on his crossbow as well...Thinks through his abilities and remembers his peers trying to teach him a more destructive spell when he was younger...yes, he'll definitely add that to his list today.

He then walks out of the inn and looks around.

Theren opens his eyes from his meditation upon hearing the call to arms. For a moment he considers ignoring it, since this seems like karmic justice on the would be new "owner" of this town. However, he hears his new companions preparing themselves, and he also considers the fact that the orcs will likely ravage what little is left of this town leaving any survivors completely homeless. As such, he uncrosses his legs and rises from where he was sitting on the bed. Donning his clothes and weapons, he leaves the room to face this new threat.