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Holding his shield high and steady Greil waits A hunter must always know when to strike. Smiling slightly Greil raises his hammer. As he suddenly surges forward, he calls behind him, Bard! I look forward to seeing you getting us out of this one! Bringing his hammer about in a backhanding motion he aims for the nearest Hobgoblin.
Pausing as his vision is flooded with glimpses of divine providence. Seeing the hobgoblin nearest him being ripped to shreds, the bard snaps back to himself as the battle rages on. "I've seen your undoing lawbreaker, this is the one the gods have chosen to die next!" Irimus cries out, pointing to a green skinned combatant.
Stepping into the midst of two of the three remaining Hobgoblins Rune summons a blazing symbol over the Hobgoblin furthest from him. The two next to him attempt to take advantage of the opportunity, but neither manages to hit Rune, who hits the far Hobgoblin hard. Orion steps up behind the sorcerer and lashes out at the two Hobgoblins next to him. The monk's first punch fumbles, but the next lands solidly on one of the Hobgoblins and Orion hits the other with an elbow as he returns to his ready stance. Only one Hobgoblin remains, and Griel wastes no time, stalking right up to the mercenary the warden points at the Hobgoblin, calling him out. Winding up, Griel slugs the Hobgoblin in the chest, shattering the Hobgoblin's scale armor. The Hobgoblin topples over and coughs up blood.
When the last Hobgoblins falls, the Guards look up and see you, weapons covered in Hobgoblin blood. One of the Guards takes a step forward and is about to speak when another grabs him by the shoulder and hold him back, "Its wasn't them. They took out the bastard that did it." Looking at you, the level-headed guard points at the far side of the road, snaps his fingers and "Before the corpse wagon comes, don't make me regret it."
Quickly walking away from the bloody scene you step into the Merchant Quarter. The streets here aren't much wider than the Thieve's Quarter, but the streets are cleaner and the buildings aren't falling down. Weaving your way through the alleys and side streets you reach a wide open square. One hundred yards on each side, the square is paved with broad stones, ground smooth by heavy traffic and bleached by the sun. In the center of the square is a wide stone platform. At one end, is a wooden gallows, empty. This is where the Slave Lords hold their weekly Auction, and execute important prisoners, those they deem worthy of making an example of.
"Agreed, let's get the hell out of here. Next time, don't go getting involved in fights that aren't ours, you heard the innkeeper about how easy it is to get thrown into the slave pits here," Irimus says to the group.
Rune merely creaks his joints at Irimus, But it's far too much fun burning goblins, so I couldn't let the guards have all the fun. As he speaks to Irimus, Rune keeps an eye out as well as his auditory sensors to all that is going on around him.
Greil continues along with the rest of the group, a slight smirk on his face as he gets lectured. Seperating himself from Orion, Greil joins the monk in keeping both eyes out for potential trouble. His delight however from getting to actually do something proves a distraction as he has yet to calm down and he cannot focus on anyone or any particular thing at a time
As you move across the square trying to strike up a conversation with the various merchants and laborers it quickly becomes apparent that neither has the time for you. The wealthy merchants believe armed thugs like you are beneath them, and those laborers that aren't slaves don't dare set down lest their precious pay be docked by their masters.
Orion and Greil's attempts at observation don't fare any better, Griel is distracted by a pretty girl in a revealing dress who is quickly chased off the square by a lone Guard. Apparently he caught the eye of a lady of ill repute. Orion's eye's are not as easily distracted by such fleeting things, but nonetheless even his strictest attentions cannot comprehend the strange manners of the Merchants. Their flashy clothes, stiff manners and false smiles hide ill motives and evil plans. While he can see this clear as day, Orion can make hide nor hair of their manners.
"Interesting, well at least we haven't gotten picked up yet. Let's try to focus so we can this done with," Irimus says, before walking up to a nearby merchant. "Good day sir, my guards and I were traveling with a caravan but got separated at the gate. I believe they were headed to trade here, as Jamir had many fine baubles, but I have no clue where I am. I only know we were to meet them at the slave auction before we returned. Could you please point us in that direction? I have no desire to be accosted and my men are growing restless sir," the bard spews out with perfunctory manners.