Roleplay

[center]------------------ [columns][img]https://i.imgur.com/jvDAo3N.png[/img][nextcol][color=transparent]...[/color][nextcol] Oh yikes. That wasn't going to go well was it? If they were anything like the people in Obeuron? Deimos could only hope these people had good hearts under their unfriendly exteriors. [/columns] ------------------[/center]

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_{Clearly, this was not the right course of action. One of the guards raises his polearm, pressing the blade against Hal's neck with such fluidity and ease it almost doesn't seem like natural movement. Slanted eyes narrow underneath the shadow of his helmet and teeth bare in challenge. "We need to take care of our own. If you have ill intentions, we cannot allow you to infiltrate our walls. Watch your tongue, outsider, before I cut it out of your mouth." As he says this, the thin edge of the steel presses harder into Hal's skin, drawing a trickle of blood.}

[columns] [center][font=gabriola][color=FEE366][size=6]Seraphina[/size][/color][/font] [img]https://flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/406438/40643781p.png[/img][/center] [nextcol] ----- Seraphina let out a quiet groan, resisting the urge to slap someone. She might be a feral child from the desert, but she at least wasn't going to try intimidating the guards with large pointy weapons of much more superior quality than their own. She reached into her supplies and rifled around, before pulling out the letter they had received before their journey to Croswell. "I have the letter right here, there's no need for threats," she said with a sigh. "Just look it over and you'll see that we have every permission to be here. He's just worried because our companion is injured, that's all. We mean no harm, and are here on the orders of the higher-ups in the city." ----- [/columns]

[b]Behrad [emoji=plague rune size=1][/b] [b]Woah there, why don't we all just calm down.[/b] Behrad huffs, stepping towards the elven guard. [b]I don't think you want any more injured people in your silly little city, and we have the letter, so just back off for a minute, before you kill the saviours of the world."[/b] That last bit slipped out, accidentally, but Behrad puffs out his chest anyway, trying his best to look heroic. He really didn't care if the others got hurt, but he did care whether or not he got into the city. There was money in there, and probably lots of other interesting things, and if his companions getting roughed up was what needed to happen for him to get in, he supposed it would have to do. But if it could be avoided that might be more ideal. Shaking his head softly to clear his thoughts, Behrad looks back up to the guards and tilts his head expectantly as he brushes his hands on his cloak before placing them on his hips.

[columns][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/473969/47396863p.png[/img][color=transparent]_[nextcol]Guards with polearms bullying people at the gates of Croswell. A familiar sight, and not one that he'd ever wanted to see again. His legs were aching and his wounds were still raw and angry, but an oppressive anxiety pushed thoughts of pain from his mind. He pulled the brim of his hat down to obscure his eyes. He had no idea if these guards could recognize him if they got a good look at his face. He'd dramatically changed his looks since he'd left, but he was absolutely convinced that they'd know him instantly if they got a good look at him. ...oh for the [i]Arcanist's sake [b]what were his companions thinking[/b][/i][/columns]

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<sub>The faefolk woman takes the letter from Seraphina's hands gently, reading it over carefully. At last, she rolls it up and tucks it away, giving the Skydancer a curt nod. It seems that, at the very least, that the elf has some modicum of respect for the decorum that the dractare was willing to show... at least, compared to some of her companions. "So you speak the truth. My apologies for doubting your words, it's merely our job to be cautious." She turns to her companion again and says a few words to him in elvish before once again looking to the cadre of heroes. "I will fetch an official to escort you into the city, in the meantime, please stay here. Officer Castien will watch over you in my absence."

As the elf disappears into the city walls, the remaining guard looks at Behrad and snorts in laughter. The butt of his polearm presses hard into the man's chest, pushing him backwards and onto the ground. "Hero? My infant son seems more capable of saving the world than the likes of you." He says something in a foreign tongue that the dractare can't make out, but they feel like they should be insulted by it. It seems like this one has let the power of being a sentry get to his head a little bit.</sub>

[columns][img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/473969/47396863p.png[/img][color=transparent]_[nextcol]Fetch an official? [i]Fetch an official???[/i] What [i]kind[/i] of official?? Surely not another guard. Why would she be fetching another guard? She [i]wouldn't[/i] be. That wouldn't make any sense. It's [i]fine[/i]. She's just. Going to get,,,, like,,,, uh. [i]One of the people they were here to meet! [/i]Yes. That is all. No problems here. Not an issue to be had. Everything is fine! Psilocybe's blood pressure is just fine! He is not worried! Why would he be worried?? [/columns]

[columns][font=times new roman]Autiot had been pleasantly minding his own business, letting his companions take over the job of talking to the guards. It... Wasn't working out well; but at least they were getting somewhere. That sentry was starting to get on his nerves a bit, and the dractare hadn't been talking for a while as they walked here; for good reason, as there was a small pool of blood in his mouth. So he did what any normal person would do and walked up, raising one hand to show he meant no harm. When he was close enough, he spat the blood toward the sentry's shoes. [b]"I'd take it kindly if you closed your maw,"[/b][/font][nextcol][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=38902766][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/avatars/389028/38902766.png[/img][/url][/columns] -----

[center]------------------ [columns][img]https://i.imgur.com/jvDAo3N.png[/img][nextcol][color=transparent]...[/color][nextcol] Well... That definitely could have gone worse. Although Deimos couldn't shake the feeling that Behrad would probably be less than pleased to be comapared to someone's toddler. "So... Family man huh?" Deimos' small talk wasn't exactly elegant, "What's that like?" [/columns] ------------------[/center]

Mazon sighed and rubbed her eyes. She really hoped they wouldn't talk to the official that way. The officials in Croswell tended to be prickly and the group already had given a bad impression. She guessed she should just be grateful that the guards weren't anybody she knew. The 'never being allowed back after leaving the city' rule was no joke.