Hans, impugn not the character of this fine town and its worthy denizens! Let us find an inn of a decent sort, where neither proprietor nor common thieves are likely to render us impecunious, and rest for a while.
<Gawain scratches at a flea-bite, muttering something very unpaladinly under his breath>
And act with virtue once we get there. Should you pluck another malady of the nether regions from a poxy doxy, do not expect me to cure it.
You are working just outside the town (Clever Hans rode out to see what the fuss was about, made his comment, then rode back).
A number of folk coming to Oakham from Burley-on-the-Hill and Upper Hambleton stop to listen.
Most are fascinated by the rapid plant growth but look puzzled when you mention Marian.
Their comments include:
I didn’t know we had any Druids in Rutland, let alone senior ones
there aren’t any Rangers round here, are there?
I like your dog; what breed is he?
this mine job; does it pay well?
I thought Sir Guy was the Sheriff?
no, silly, Gisbourne’s the Lord of the Manor
so who’s standing for Sheriff?
it’s that woman there; the one with the kestrel on her arm
why doesn’t she speak?
dunno, but this bloke 'ere could sell eels to fishermen!
aye, he’s got the gift of the gab alright
Attracted by the crowd, a couple of uniformed* troopers come over to you. After listening for a moment, they order you to move on.
A peasant (smelling of fish) promptly shouts “You ain’t got no right to do that! These people ain’t in Oakham, so it’s got nowt to do with you.”
The crowd obviously agree with him and the troopers reluctantly retire back inside the town boundary.
Marian is being asked questions about the election, but is looking more and more nervous and uncomfortable. Suddenly she runs into a copse of trees (her kestrel leaps into the air and follows her).
The peasants shuffle their feet and say they meant no harm to the lady. One goes to apologise, but comes back looking puzzled. “She ain’t there! There’s just trees. And she ain’t hiding behind them…”
*they wear the insignia of a mailed fist
A man supervising the construction of the barriers for the jousting turns to Gawain and doffs his cap with a bow.
“Excuse me, Sir Knight, but if ye seek an inn, there are but two in the town. The Old Plough has music, while the **Merry Monk ** is frequented by military men.
You will need to hurry, for the rooms will soon be taken, what with Market Day today and May Day on the morrow.
Of course the Temple here will also serve weary travellers.”
Sorry! Sorry! Computer acting up, grandmother going to ER… RL has been a female dog lately.
“I have had odd dreams,” Cadogan admits, his gravelly voice a touch gruff, “but those last night were odder than normal. If we shared them, there may be more to them, but I am no soothsayer to make sense of such visions.”
When the soldier-folk come ambling and threatening, the Ranger narrows his eyes in their general direction. His generally neutral expression remains, just with a sprinkling of warning and menace as he regards them. This far and no further, his expression says, but he does not start flailing around with a sword, just idly resting his hand on the hilt of his blade.
He does lift his chin a bit in recognition and something akin to amusement when someone asks about Rangers hereabouts. The amused look in his eyes flat out vanishes when the Marian goes running off. When the peasant lady announces that the woman has vanished, Cadogan begins to stalk toward that copse of trees, pausing to look down at the ground before his gaze rises to the trees.
I’m going to try and use Tracking to figure out if there’s some place her footsteps just stop. I’m also looking around to see where her Kestrel went, since if she just vanished, it might have gone with her, but if she’s still here somewhere, probably it is too?
Hulgfar acknowldges, briefly considers catching a fish from under the water, But decides to stay on land and watch all these loud strangers, paying special attention to the well-armoured knight out of the corner of his eye.
When you meet the others, you will discover you all had the identical experience. That’s never happened to you before.
The soldiers initially enjoy ordering the peasants around.
But when they notice you, they look a bit shifty and take a step back. You can see they are making a note of your equipment, and one of them points at your horse and nods in recognition.
Well you and the other couple of Rangers on Rutland patrol are pretty discreet (and good at heading off trouble!).
Cadogan succeeds with a TRACKING skill.
He traces Marian’s footsteps into the copse, but they stop directly in front of a tree. There are no signs of anyone else. The kestrel is sitting in the tree, preening itself.
Crumlin does a double-take at Ergj’s manouevre and stares briefly at the Lizardman, narrowing his eyes.
Then, noticing the Knight and squire, he says to Ergj and Hulgfar “Excuse me a moment, gentlemen.”
Clearing his throat, he addresses Gawain with a bow. "Sir Knight, I notice your shield symbol (Heimdall’s Horn). I too share the faith (Crumlin shows the same symbol in a small version hanging around his neck). I am an Acolyte in the Temple here and I would be honoured to introduce you to a Curate, who I am sure would offer you (Crumlin briefly hesitates) … and your squire … the hospitality you deserve.
If I am not mistaken, your magnificent Warhorse is from temple stock - we have the privilege of a brother horse here in Oakham. And of course I can show you to the stables when convenient.
“Well, if that be your attitude, master,” exclaims Hans very audibly, “you’re on your own next time we’re rooming alone and there’s not a wench to be found!”
Muttered: “There’ll be damn-all thieves in this town, Gawain - at least, none who’re any good. Mister Stick-Up-His-Chutney Gisbourne has seen to that. I’ll make sure none interferes with your worldly goods, if you like.”
A cloak, with the weather so warm? Tailor, we may have use of your services, but why would my friend need a cloak?
Ah, thank you good Curate. Tis true the weather is warmer, but we can surely expect regular rain here in Rutland. A good cloak and hood keeps out the prying fingers of damp.
(turning back to Salazar) May I say that for the discerning (such as yourself), that two cloaks are better than one. 
I see a discreet shade of brown for travelling, but a glorious mixture of yellow and purple (trimmed with green, of course) to truly announce your presence.
(looks at Aciryas) And of course, any friend of Heimdall’s Temple is awarded a small discount!
What do you think Slazar?
Can I examine the cloak he is offering?
Aciryas is not a tailor or weaver, so has no specialist knowledge.
However the first cloak looks perfectly serviceable and effective against the rain.
The second cloak is … eye-catching. :eek: It is bright yellow and deep purple and has fluffy fur trim dyed bright green.
hee, I figured as much.
“That’s… Quite… A… Hm. Colorful. Cloak.” Salazar talks as if he’s having to chose each word from a long list. “It. Might. Look… Good on you…” He looks to Aciryas.
Would that I could friend Salazar, but my order has taken a vow to only wear plain clothes.
But the vendor is right, you might want to keep yourself dry from the rain…I am going to go admire the…um…the bit of wall over there. You can catch up with me when you are done here.
: pats salazar warmly on the shoulder and wanders off chuckling to himself:
Ergj notices that there is a engraving in the half-finished bridge, of the letters ‘W S’.
Crumlin smiles at Aciryas and comes towards him, saying “Good Curate, I’d like to introduce Erjg and Hulgfar. They are Warriors from Portsmouth and have kindly agreed to help us with the election.
We fishermen all want to protect the fish stocks.”
He adds in a whisper “Our order hasn’t taken a clothing vow … oh! I see!”
Charles the tailor promptly offers to sell Crumlin one of the colourful cloaks.
Crumlin cheerfully declines, saying “I think it is too magnificent for me! Perhaps you should think about offering it to a Noble. Of course, as you know, High Priestess Edith Weston performs important Temple ceremonies and I expect **Baron Thorganby Wheldrake ** will be here tomorrow to run the May Day combats as usual.”
Aciryas gives a short bow of greeting to Erjg and Hulgfar: Well met, brave warriors. My prayers shall be with you as you aid our noble quest.
Crumlin whispers to Aciryas “Well said! Now may I please meet this chap?”
He discreetly indicates Salazar.
Whilst doing this, Crumlin carefullly makes sure he does not disrespect the mounted Knight (by turning his back on him).
Aciryas: :quietly to Crumlin: Certanly (insert apporpriate honorific here). :more loudly: Friends, I in turn would like to indroduce you to a great friend of mine, and a cunning ally to us all, my dear friend (insert apporpriate honorific here) Salazar.
Salazar, this is (insert apporpriate honorific here) Crumlin of whom I have spoken to you, and these fine…er…gentelmen are Erjg and Hulgfar, brave Warriors from Portsmouth who have kindly agreed to help us with the election.