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[i]Live and let live[/i]... Harth was silent and leaned heavily on his stone-topped cane as he watched the soldiers march through the streets with a cold gaze. A cruel lot they were, with their steel-tipped boots and their trumpets -what a waste of good brass-. He saw the small protests of his companions. Caleb, the valiant warrior heart, Kraseawei, ever pragmatic, and Lucky -- well, Lucky had gone, so that would be something Harth would only find out when all rejoined at the Three Tails Inn. 

[color=B6A99B][b]"The Plight weighs on all..."[/b][/color] he muttered softly, offering his own heartening, if somewhat sober thoughts. [color=B6A99B][b]"But these townspeople are strong, that is for sure. They will persevere, but even the strongest of arches can be ground away by the river of time. And then..."[/b][/color] It was a tale he had often heard in his long life, a tale as old as time, that one: what happened if the foundation one conducted their trade on was pushed too far, and stopped carrying [i]their[/i] weight. It was a lesson people seemed to love to forget. [color=B6A99B][b]"Well, perhaps these merchant princes will find out soon enough."[/b][/color] But that was not up to them, at least for now. It was a fool's errand to take on [i]all[/i] the weight of the world. 

And so, when his companions offered to head to the Three Tails Inn, he concurred. [color=B6A99B][b]"Aye, let's go,"[/b][/color] he said in a tone low and muted, almost as if in deference to the commotion. Then he went, his boots clomping on the cobblestones, down Prince Talaris Street and towards Pauper's Square. Admittedly with [i]some[/i] lingering side-to-side as well, but at least the swaying did lessen as they went, just as Kraseawai had said. 

Until at last they would come to the Three Tails Inn. And once there, he would ask for [color=B6A99B][b]"Zaretha Merchants-daughter?"[/b][/color], mentioning that Vaskandar at the harbor had recommended her.

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