Meta Ruins of Myvolia

Sebastian - Still at the table
Ethusiasm growing

Sebastian picks up his banjo and begins to pluck… looking at T’Alen he says

Sacre bleu Wizard, we carry enough arms to raze this town twice over. What else could we be?

Catching the eye of the serving wench Alma is ogling, and indicating the old man, he shouts:

Madamoiselle! A drink for our new friend! Also mon frere with the big sword would like a word with you…

Grinning he picks up the pace on his banjo and begins to sing…

In the morn we march on the great white north, on our way to cut down any horrors that spring forth, I and my fellows we are the eight, for any who oppose us death will not wait…

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T 'Alen - At the table
Cautious and curious

T ’Alen takes a slow pull of his drink, and leans forward towards the old man

What do you know of the lands beyond the spine old one? Have you any maps, or writings of the area?

T ’Alen leans back in his chair a bit waiting for an answer

And how do you know what we are?

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Alma - Port Parlone
Resignation

Alma shares the rest of the companies interest in moving on and finding further adventure. He is a little hesitant to head further north into desolate frozen wastes, but decides to keep his reservations to himself. He instead starts to survey the room for a serving wench, preferably a pretty one. If the frozen north is the direction Alma intends to have his belly warmed by wine and his bed warmed by a fine woman.. Or two, could be a long journey.

North it is then… In the morning I assume

With that Alma excuses himself to corner the finest wench in the place and ply his charms, or coin if need be.

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Cora - Parlone
Cora joins hesitently

Cora looks at the old man to see if he is mad or just had one to many.

Who are you sir? How do you know us?.

I agree with Sebastian I grow weary of this town and seek more excitement!

Although he maybe leading us into a trap the chance of riches untold has tweaked my interest.

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Sebastian - Port Parlone
Skeptical but interested

Sebastian rubs his chin thoughtfully and glances around the table. In Thraycian, loud enough for anyone who understands to hear, he mutters…

I think the old man is a few cups in…

Smirking, he looked around the table once more…

Still, it’s been too long since i’ve had any deeds worth singing about. Should we wander once more?

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DM - Port Parlone - Blunt Nail Tavern
The Musings of an Old Man

The cold harsh winds of the North Sea skate over the Bay of Bangle and barrage the shores in Port Parlone. Grey and hard, the town is not much larger than a village; but, there is plenty of activity as it is the only major port of Parlone capable of housing the large merchant ships of the south. Square sails of the northern Grewhains, arrow sails of the thriving Empire of Sandoria, and the mighty spirit sails of the trade merchants of Thrayce speckle the extensive docks in the early morning.

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