Renwold - The Curse of the Ware-Wolf

Discussion in 'THREAD ARCHIVES' started by Ming - Ladd Russo, Sep 29, 2012.

  1. ~`- Renwold -`~

    The Curse of the Ware-Wolf

    It was getting close to midnight, the falling rain from the darkened sky above that blocked out the setting sun. It always rained like this towards the south-eastern regions of Renwold as the region crept ever closer to the fall, one would guess it was due to the fact that nature her self wanted the leaves and seeds off of her dearly beloved trees and plants so they can start germinating through the months leading up to winter. The trail leading to Mithmigal, one of the farther villages off to the east. It was boarded on three sides by thick forest. The only occupation one could even do was be a Lumberjack, a coal Miner, or a bartender at one it's many pubs and Inn's that littered the small town. It was as if each house was it's own pub from home-grown wheat based whiskey an grape based wines. The town was full of drunks, and if every city in the region had a sentience to them, Mithmigal would be the town drunk between the southern cities.

    Here, we find our brothers, Martin and Christopher Le-Chance, standing in the mud of the road just outside of the city. They are guided over the path with their rusty Iron Lantern as well as the flickering lights of the small village just through the trees to their right. Martin is ahead of Christ, his hood drawn over his head to protect his field of vision from the rain that fell upon the two weary
    trailers. Looking back, behind his shoulder he sees that his brother, Christ has slowed down to a crawl with his head lowered. Martin stops and turns to him, shouting towards him with concern in his breath, "Christ, what's the hold up? We're nearly there, brother!"

    Christ didn't answer him, remained silent as the sound of splattering rain water fell around them. Martin scuffed at him and turned, walking to his brother as his feet splash in the puddles of mood built up in the rain and grabbed hold of his brother's hood where it was ties and shook him out of his dead-minded like state, "Christ! Snap out of it! We're only a few more meters away from the village, just a few more feet from salvation..."

    Christ slowly looked up to his older brother, his hood hiding his eyes from the shadow that was made from the lifted lantern in Martin's hands. "... Alright..." He would speak softly and walked around his brother, continuing his march towards the city ad he trudged through the thickening, quicksand of a pathway.

    The Pub

    The place was a dump, smoke filled the air as a few Lumberjacks and a group of Miners rest their feet to a pint of imported Ale and Whiskey. Just to relax the night away from their hard day's work and to spend their hard earned cash to drown their sorrow's away, that's what this town's work force does every day and every night. They have few visitors, but welcome them with open arms just as long as they don't cause any trouble to the village as a hole. If they do, they will form a mob and kick the trespassers out of the city and banned them from ever coming there ever again.

    Back in the corner of the pub, sits a man with a large sword, a Claymore perhaps. The blade was long enough to be called such but it was far too wide to be one of normal craftsmanship. He had to of had it custom made by hand by a blacksmith. Across the room from him, sitting at the bar of the pub was lovely young woman. Her hair was blonde and long, draping over her ears with curly ribbons of silk. Her eyes were kept close as she held a glass of wine, swirling the liquid around in it's container. She looked to be bored as she waited on the stool at the bar.
  2. The soft scrape of wood on wood was all but drowned out by the idle chat of some of the patrons as the slightly husky man in the corner stood up. The sword with scabbard he had leaned against the wall while he sat was strapped back to his waist before picking up the mug of ale and finishing the last swig all the while heading up to the bar. Keeping a stools worth of distance between himself and the blond women the man set his empty mug on the counter as well as dropping two silver bits next to it.

    "Thanks Pete" His voice was less rugged then he appeared but still felt as though it held authority to it. "Keep your ears open for me about any openings will ya? Just for the week mind you, I don't plan to stay much longer then that."

    Pete the tender smiled as he slid the coins off the counter top into his open palm and picked up the mug.
    "I think old man Drover could use a hand then. His roof was hit pretty hard when this storm first rolled in. Says he might as well sleep out side then under that waterfall inducing hole." Pete smiled as he pointed a thumb off to his left. "He's staying over at the Tucker residence till the storm blows over."

    With a nod the man leaned on the rail of the counter and turned toward the elven woman that for the most part was minding her own business. Those stone gray eyes of his traced over her face and ears and without hesitation, either coaxed by the fire in his belly the the smoke it was causing in his mind the next words followed.
    "You are the third most alluring elven women I have ever laid eyes on."

    His blond hair didn't match with the radiance in which hers displayed but the feature that was sticking out was that smile and unwavering presence he gave off as he allowed the pause to end by following that last remark up guessing she had enough time to register that she only came in third. "The first mind you I've only seen in my dreams." Yeah at this point it had to be the ale talking, at least that's what he would tell anyone that asked.
  3. The fair Elf Maiden Looked to the man who had taken his seat on the stool one away from her, talking to her as sweet as he was. She voided her gaze from the glass of wine and looked to him with golden eyes, her pupils that of a predator which are common in woof elves around the area south of Renwold. Her eyes half closed, giving him a small smirk, she would whisper something in elvish that he probably wouldn't understand, but for if he were to know their language, it would go as fallows, "-And who is this second of which you speak?" Gaining interest only for a moment towards the man to her right, she would tell him softly, "And for a human such as your self, you are the one hundred-thousandth most handsome I've seen. And the one before you was only seen in my Nightmares." She would tell him the last part with her hand upon his face and eyes locked with his, telling him that she was in no mood to be flirted with. She closed her eyes and giggled to him for a few seconds and stood, placing a few gold coins onto the counter and turned away from the man with the bandanna. As she walked away, swaying her hips from left to right as was from her posture, she turned when at the door and looked to him, smiling to him, then put her hood over her head and left the pub.

    Outside, the two brothers walk side by side but with a space between them of about three feet. The sun was setting rapidly with the clouds over head that blocks it out, the town was getting darker and darker with every passing minute and the village was slowly closing for the night. There weren't a lot of people outside of Mithmigal, all who were out were people either heading back to their homes and pubs. The two brothers seemed to be welcomed but not so much as to be told hello, mostly silent and to them selves. They would look up and smile to them in a welcoming manner but then go back to their business as normal. Both Martin and Christ stand outside a pub, named "The Fair Horse Maiden" with a female centaur, naked and resting her legs as she plays a pan flute, her eyes were closed. Someone left the pub, letting the door close behind them easily and then turn, walking to their right and left towards the entrance of town.

    Martin kept his eyes on the person as they left, and when out of his sight, looked to the door and opened it for his brother who seemed ill. Christ walked around his brother and entered the pub, taking each step as dust would fly up from under his feet, some of the dust was placed lightly one his feet. He took a seat off to the far right of the bar, taking one far enough away so not to be noticed. Martin looked through the crowd at his brother and smiled warmly hoping that this city would have some kind of salvation for their family. Looking towards the bar, he saw the tender and became serious, walking up to him and taking a seat off to the side, next to a drunken swords men with a black bandanna. The seat was still warm, which surprised him. Giving his attention to the bar tender, he would ask him, "...Give me a pint.‚Äč"

  4. Pete couldn't understand the first words she spoke but the man they were directed to seemed to as a light smile curled at his lips. The second part however made Pete snort a laugh before he ducked his head and walked away a bit busying himself with the cleaning of the mugs. As the second part came out in common the man didn't lose his smile yet it only got bigger as if he had succeed in at least capturing her attention in himself.

    "At least I made the numbers, and here I thought I would have been just a nobody." He let the gentle touch of her skin on his cheek wash over him and met with her own eyes before she pulled away. Watching her hips shake as she turned only briefly once she reached the door to flash him a smile. In his head that last look screamed "Follow me for a good time." but his feet didn't move.

    "That was way out of your league Brenden, way out." Pete scuffed while holding back the laughter. Apparently he had come back from wiping off the mugs to lean against the counter to watch those hips shake as well.

    "She bit Pete, she bit." Turning back around to look at the scrawny man Brenden placed a hand on the mans shoulder and gave him a firm pat. "You should really pick up some other languages in your field of work." Taking his hand of Pete's shoulder and double tapping the bar top Brenden said in a stout voice just as the door opened and another pair of gentlemen came in from the rain. "Another round 'fore I go would ja?"

    Just as the drink was set before Brenden one of the new comers pulled up the seat that had just been occupied but moments ago. A younger man that he but still the worn look that covered his face was something all to familiar to his own past. The thought of asking a stranger his problems, how would one respond? How would he have responded if some one did that to him in a public place? During that time the only thing he could draw a conclusion to was a firm sock to the jaw... "keep your nose out of peoples business, unless invited, Brenden." Was what that nagging voice told him but his mouth was acting already.

    "Your buddy not want a drink too?" His eyes shifted to look at the man just past the rim of his own ale while he swung it back.

  5. Martin looked to his brother only briefly and answered the man's question, "No, for he is far too young to partake in the consumption of ale... Just one pint if you would." His voice was deep and commanding, would be fit enough to be a general's if he were to of been born under the crown. But his appearance, the way he dressed with commoner cloths was far to easy to describe him as a farmer. The only thing that was hard to understand was how he came to have the sword he had on his left hip, stashed away under his tanned white cloak. He looked to his right and saw the man sitting before him and smirked at his drunken appearance. Martin took his coin purse and placed onto the counter twice as much from what it would cost him for one pint of ale and told the tender as he received his drink, "This should cover what my friend's choice of poison is... keep the change" Smiling to the tender, then the man next to him. He left with his mug of ale and went to sit next to his brother off to the side.

    Martin took the seat opposite from Christ and placed the cold mug onto the surface of the table, looking towards his mopey brother with disappointment. Christ had his head lowered and rested his arms on the table, leaning over it as he tried to keep him self up. Martin knew that nights like these were when his became worse to bare. " ... How do you feel, brother?" Christ looked up slowly but didn't answer. Martin frowned to his lack of answer and told him, "Your weak, you need something in your system before you pass out." Lifting his hand, Martin calls out to the tender to take a food order for the two of them. It is common around these parts for there to be food serving taverns, bed's and breakfast's for the wondering adventurists.

    When they were served, both given a drumstick from what must of been a very, very large chicken, Christ was finally enthusiastic for once. Taking the bone part with his right hand and taking a large bite out of the meat, he held the other side of it as he tore into the food like a wild animal. Gaining the attention from the entire pub from how loudly he ate. Even Martin him self was in shock, perhaps he was a little cranky from not eating as much as he should, they hadn't ate anything for a while since on the road from their family farm.

    After Christ had finally finished his food, gaining a great smile on his face, he perked up and shouted, "My god, this is delicious!" Martin smirked to his sudden found spark of happiness and asked for more food.
  6. With the young mans outburst it broke the final straw for Brenden. A snap of the fingers was all it took to get Pete's attention and Brenden held out a think finger and tapped his mug once as if signalling for one more to be brought over. Once the other pint arrived Brenden's massive hands clasped around his and the newly arrived ales and stepped away from the counter.

    Solid and heavy footfalls echoed over the chatter of the patrons before they fell silent once more as Brenden now stood next to the table of the pair of new comers.
    "He say's your to young for the bite of ale son, but the way I see it." Brenden set the mug right in front of Christ as he raised his out waiting for the lad to pick up his own. "If your old enough to feel the warmth of a women, or the enjoyment of good food or company, you can have the choice of drinking or not drinking your own!"

    His words were quickly followed with a hoot of cheers and a flurry of raise mugs from the others in the pub before they all took a drink. Brenden's eye's, stone gray yet holding a clear shine to them peered across the table toward Martin. Offering a nod of the head as if apologizing for stepping on any toe's but a man should be allowed to make his own choices in life.

    "So what say you friend? Is the brew for you or will you pass in on to your friend here?" Waving his mug toward Martin as he waited for Christ to answer.

    In this entire ordeal something clearly came to light. The fact that this man didn't seem at all drunk, the others in the building rallied around the words he spoke so easily, and the massive sword that was now evident hanging from his hip. Who was this man and why wasn't he minding his own business?

  7. Christ looks to the drunk man then back to his brother while food still hung in his mouth. The man who had just set their glass onto the table seemed to be the well known to the town and would it would seem to be rude to excuse his offer. Martin gave his brother a glare, as if asking him if he was alright, if he could handle him self this time around with out saying a word. Christ nodded and asked, "Y-Yeah, sure? If you would be so kind." For a young lad, he sure does have a fine taste in liquor. Whiskey is a very strong substance, made from wheat grown from the not so fertile fields of Mithmigal, making the brew's more potent from how strong the wheat can get.

    From the corner of his eye, Martin looked up to the man and smiled at him, "Hey, friend... Why don't you join us, I'll buy you another round of your favored poison you love so much." chuckling a little to him self. Martin moved off a little to the side, to let the man have enough room to pull up a chair and sit down with them if he wanted to. "Come now, We'll get to know one another through common drink."

    After a few hours, with fine ale in Martins body, and food and wheat based whiskey in Christ's, both brothers have became more
    susceptible, more qoi and relaxed then they were previously. Christ even had a smile on his face as he leaned his back over his chair while still holding the bare bone of the chicken leg he had. They were stuffed, and Martin had hardly touched his food, just watching his brother eat was enough to make him satisfied from hunger. The man with the bandanna and the outrageously large sword that was obviously custom made. Martin would of commented on it, but he didn't want to bring too much attention to it and make the swordsmen uncomfortable.
  8. "I'll have to pass up your offer on the drink tonight friend." Brenden smiled as he watched the younger brother toss his drink back like a champ. Those stone gray eye's turned back to Martin though while pulling a seat up to the table. "But I don't mind sitting and chatting for awhile since you offered."

    As th
    e next hour passed a few stories were shared between the few, how truthful each story was, or how much exaggeration was put in couldn't really be defined. They were having fun though, at least that's what it would seemed like to anybody that watched them. After Martin finished his last story and Brenden's booming laughter was starting to die down his face softened up as he spoke softly now the emotion in his voice was a little different but it still had the vibrant feel of friendship in it.

    "You really care about your little brother don't you Martin? That's a good family bond you hold there, just don't make your life all about his." He was leaning in close toward Martin as so Christ couldn't easily hear what he was about to say. "He wouldn't want you wasting your whole life on him, I'm sure he wants you to find your own happiness." Sitting straight again the next question took a sharp turn and didn't leave time for Martin to really contest what he had said about finding his own happiness.

    "What brings you guys down this way anyways? Looking for someone? Cause you don't look like your equip well enough to be takin a hike through the Azrithen mountains."
    The look on his face had taken a more serious tone to it yet the smile was still plastered across his cheeks. He was genuinely curious as to why these two had traveled out here since most people in this town were either born here, crossing the mountains to or from Kelton, or were using it as a rest stop while they traveled around as adventure seekers. Brenden was the later and had been in town for about a week now, but these two didn't seem equipped well enough to do either and they didn't live here.

    Just what was their goal?
  9. Martin looked to the man who he had came to be known as Brenden and smiled as he gave the two brothers good company, enriching their time there in the small village of a town with his tales of glory of past events that he was in. Martin took his mug of ale and sipped it lightly, pondering Brenden's question for a moment. Closing his eyes and swallowing the ale, feeling it burn down his neck as it made it's way to his gut, Martin placed the wooden mug on the table ad wiped his lips from the moistness of the liquid he had just consumed.

    Martin opened his eyes and answered him, "No, we are looking for no one in particular. Just on our way towards the south-eastern shore where the ocean meets the two countries. We're adventurers and wish to see what lies past that wall of blue past the horizon." It was a lie, and Martin believed that the new comer who accopanied them at the table could tell it was. He was never a good lier, always twitched the right corner of his lip and his eye always shifted to the left every now and then.

    Martin didn't like to lie to people, even when he had to. It always made him feel bad, making himself tell the truth after a few moments. Martin took another swig from his mug of ale and told him why they were here while Christ slept before them. So no one else could over hear their conversation, Martin leaned into Brenden and told him with his hand cupped over his ear as he whispered, "
    Actually... We are here to see someone, a very powerful Mage who is said to be deep in the forest of Mithmigal's woods." Shifting his eyes to his brother as he paused, he would continue after a few moments, "They say that the Mage in these very woods can heal anyone from any kind of illness, wither it may be physical, or magical." Martin put forth some influence on his last word, to hint at what Christopher might have but not fully. For if he had told him what Christ had, he might be shunned, or worse, hunted down like an animal like all the other villages where his transformation happened on accident.
  10. The first response was easy to read through as the lie it was but wasn't going to push the matter. Surprisingly though he didn't have to since Martin decided to lean in and reveal his truth, or at least part of his truth. Either he wasn't entirely sure of what was going on himself or if he was still trying to pull the wool over others eyes, Brenden couldn't quiet tell. Still he would have his own theories and would share them openly while keeping the hushed tone, Martin didn't seem to want to broadcast his brother plight.

    "He doesn't seem ill in the least. Actually quiet the contrary, his appetite is strong, his spirits are high, and he's able to hold such strong liquor back that I don't anything is really causing him to be sick." Brenden looked over to the resting younger brother then back to Martin his face had lost its smile and had taken on a harsher look. Not one of anger or mistrust, just a look that seemed like he wasn't playing around with what he was about to say.

    "If it WAS and magical and he shows no signs of illness then I would think it's a curse. Which leads me to believe he got it in two possible ways. One he was doing something or was somewhere he shouldn't belong." Brenden's cold stone eyes watched Martin's very closely as he spoke the next one. "Or your brother has angered a very powerful person." Staying silent for a moment to read the facial expressions Brenden finally added something else that might even sound a bit harsh.

    "And frankly I hope he is cursed." He didn't allow a pause before going into his explanation. "Because if it was a magical illness it would most likely be highly contagious and bringing him to a populated area like this would be the worst case scenario for all of us."
  11. Martin looked to Brenden then to his brother, Christ. Giving a sigh then looking down to his feet, he told him, "... My brother isn't ill, I am." This time, Martin gave no clue that he lied to the man before him, with serious eyes that gazed at him, focused in place and did not shake no matter how much he didn't want to lie, to anyone. There was something's Martin was that made him mad as a person, and a lier wasn't one of them. "When he found out I was ill, he told me a story about a Mage, a powerful Magic user deep in the woods of Mithmigal. After that day, we've been on the road looking for the cure to my illness." He paused for a moment.

    Christopher woke with the two of their voices bickering to one another and asked, "
    ... Wh-... Where the Whiskey gone?..." then fall back into a drunken stooper. Martin laughed at his brother and smiled to him. He joined the conversation but ignored the topic of which brought them here to this city, only answering the questions by, what my brother said...

    After a while, the night grew as dark at pitch and the sky was still falling upon the small city. Martin looked to his brother and saw that he was tuckered out, sleeping on his face on the table and smiled to him. He stood from his chair and found him self wobbly, holding him self up with the table and asked the keep if there was a room
    available, lifting his brother and supported him up with his right arm. Christ woke only slightly when he realized he was being carried and let his legs carry some of his weight to keep the carrier from collapsing from his weight. He sure was heavy for a man of his size.
  12. Brenden decided to stay silent for the rest of the conversation smiling and nodding as needed. He could tell that the full truth of the matter wasn't being disclosed but what was a lie and what was truth was a bit out of his grasp. Deciding it best they kept the secret to themselves Brenden let himself accept the words Martin was telling. It's only natural to support and protect ones family after all.

    Once Martin stood and helped his brother to his feet Brenden rose as well.
    "You lot rest well for the eve'. If you need a steady hand in the mornin look for me, I know a great deal about the surrounding land. Although I don't know of this mage in the woods I'm sure they can't be too hard to find, if they are alive that is." His wide body stood firm while he cast those stone gray eyes upon the two of them as they walked off.

    Needing to get a more sound job lined up, Brenden thought it would be best to swing by the Tucker residence to see that crone Drover about patching up his roof once the storm blew over. After that sleep would be in order so heading back to Trevor's Tavern where he was holding up in this village was going to need to be the final step in this evenin's agenda.
  13. It was the next morning, Martin was restless through the night so he didn't sleep much. Christopher on the other hand slept like a stone at the bottom of a calm crick on a cool spring evening. His snore would of kept Martin up if it wasn't for something else on his brother's mind. He thought of the lie of which he told the stranger from which brought them here to Mithmigal, he does not enjoy lying especially to strangers. Lying right off the bat to someone is a terrible way to start off a relationship of any kind.

    Now, Martin was contemplating to him self, on if he should go out side or not to find that man from last night and either see if he is willing help them, or if he should apologize for lying to him. Personally to Martin, this brought him deep into thought. Deep enough in which he didn't notice his brother waking up, asking if he was alright and knew he was long gone.

    Christ, seeing an opening to go out and about in the city populous, sneaked out from under his brother's nose to fraternize with the local wenches and scullery maids out and about the streets. What he found would prove to be ever lasting to his boyish amusement. Given that the culture of the city as being nothing but drunkards, it is also famous for having some of the most beautiful ladies that can be offered by the human race, as well as a few elf girls here and there from the local forest's around the city. He had his fair pick and from what he saw, it would be easy to catch a fish in high water, The ladies being the fish and the chance of getting them being the high water.

    Sneaking into one pub a few blocks away from the inn / bar he and his brother took their residence in, Christopher begins to flirt with what the city had to offer him and was sometimes successful, most of the time. With his boyish good looks and deviously charming smile, he was able to captcher their hears just enough to brake them and move onto the next one. It was his game, trying to find the right one, the hardest one to catch for he was the fishermen in the sea, and he was looking for his white whale, the one that would put him on a marry chase through thick and thin just to obtain a glimpse of it once again. And there she blows, not literally though.

    There, sitting off towards the far end of the bar so her beauty wouldn't be easily seen from the door whence you walked in, sat the fairest woman Christ has ever seen just outside his peripheral vision. She wore a dark purple dress with gold lining most of it. Towards the bottom of her dress, the colours change from dark purple to light as the fabric looks to be worn from its extended usage. At first glance it was hard enough for him to tell if she was in fact an elf, but when she turned her head to him, her face just angled enough to see her face and expression, Her eyes and the tip's of her ears which poked out from the locks of her hair gave her away. Such beauty, he would think to him self, What a Masterpiece of pure radiance.

    I must have her...
  14. Spending much of his morning at the Drover's patching up his roof Brenden found himself back in town, with a bit of mud and saw dust coating parts of his clothing and face. It had been some time since he had last had a HOT bath and today seemed like a good a day as any to put a request in to have some water heated up and prepped for him.

    It had only taken a few minutes to place the order at one of the bath houses and walk back to his room to fetch his spare clothing but Brenden had sworn he saw the younger man from the night before striking up conversations with two separate women in that time. While making his way back out to the streets his eyes drifted off to catch a glance of Christ now moving into another building a little ways off the beaten path.

    "That kids got spunk... I can see why some one might have it in for him. I hope he's got enough common since to not bite off more then he can chew, I'd feel sorry for his brother." Brenden's thoughts trailed off as he closed in on the bath house, the thought of a hot bath actually the second best thing that kept his mind calm. The first he had long since lost yet her memories tend to creep up enough to keep his heart sated.
  15. By the time Martin found out about his brothers disappearance it had been a half an hour and by that time he didn't really care for where his brother had gone, he wanted to speak to that man from the previous evening. He left the Inn after taking another serving of ale and went to search for either his brother or the handyman which ever came to his sight first. The city of Mithmigal was a rather beautiful sight for sore eyes to say in the least. The wild life the Jarl of Mithmigal has planted across it's fair land match quite nicely to the foliage of what kind of culture they bring to the fair country of Renwold.

    As Martin searched for the fellow from last night with the large blade, Christ was making his way towards the lady of his dreams.

    She sat at the far end of the bar on a stool closest to the back enterence of the pub they resided in. Holding a cup of red wine as she swirled what was left in it's container with her right hand and staired back at her reflection for a few minutes before downing the rest of it, slowly. Letting her mouth relax, the soft textured wine slid down her throat as she let her tight, small adamsapple twitch up and down for a few seconds. Christ watched her as she did this and grew a bead of sweat that ran down his forehead Her eyes were closed up till the point that Christ had taken the set next to her and observed her quietly. She slowly opened her eyes and looked at him from the corner of her eye and smiled lightly, letting the class lightly rest on the surface of the bar. She turned top face him as she asked in Elven, "Do you understand what I am speaking, or do I have to speak to you in your native tongue?"

    Martin smirked to her and closed his eyes for a moment, placing his hands onto her left, slowly bringing it between his knees, holding them up in the air. One of his hands rested beneath her palm and the other messaged her knuckles as he spoke to her in Elven, "...Only a little, on my travels I learned enough words to communicate with your kind." She smiled to his comment and blushed to feel her hand in his. "How respectable, not normally seen in those of your kind."

    "Well, you could say that I'm not normal." Smiling softly to his new friend, Martin gazed across her body and he knew she did the same. A few hours past, not that the two of them would even notice the fact that time had past to quickly while in their company. From his time talking to the woman of his dreams, he learned that her name is Inwe, and he told her his name was Christ. The last few minutes before leaving the pub, Inwe invited him back to her home, deep in the forest of Mithmigal and he accepted gladly.

    A few hours back, Martin had found the man from the previous evening. He was in a bath house and when he finished, he left to go to the pub from which they had first met them. Fallowing him only to find him self back at their residence, Martin entered the pub, holding the door for as long as he could before fully coming into the building and found him self next to the bar, taking his seat on a stool far to the left and asks the keep for a pint. He waited for the swordsmen to sit next to him, hoping that he would notice the man he had fun with last night. For the fact was, he wished to speak to him once again, as soon as possible.