Xeresgate
You move slowly toward the back corner of the Inn where the rowdy warriors are. They are still being quite loud, so you have no delusions that they might be able to hear your approach.
As you get closer to the din, one of the men speaks out a bit more boisterously than his compatriots: "So, Krull the Widowmaker, I hear you and Maude the Merciless got down to business much like that whore over thar th' other night!" At this, the men erupt in guffaws and deep laughter the likes of which you would think could not be easily quelled.
It is then that you see the subject of the laughter rise slowly and deliberately. This "Krull the Widowmaker" is an absolute beast of a man... well over six feet tall, his shoulders alone are as wide as any door you've been through in your life, his grizzled beard would remind you of Genghis Khan (if such a person had ever existed on this world), the deep scar on his cheek boasts of his brazen battle tactics, his black eyes burn from within his skull with an evil you've never seen before, and the black bear pelt that he wears as a cape is rumored to have been ripped from the bear while it was still alive - with Krull's bare hands (no pun intended). As Krull rises to his feet, the laughter quickly and nervously subsides.
"I'll say this once," Krull booms. "The only reason Maude the Merciless and I ever ended up together..." (at this, he points across the room to the bar) "...is that damned cask of mead over there!!"
A nervous young warrior beckons upward toward Krull: "Enough to never want any of the King's Arms Inn's mead ever again, ey?" A few hesitant gasps escape the group. Krull the Widowmaker, still standing, peers down at the whelp. Slowly cracking a smile, Krull gives in: "Aye, enough to make me want to give the owner of this place the beating of his life!" To which Krull throws his head back, with his arms in a manly pose on his hips, and lets out a thunderous laugh, which the others readily join.
Amidst the commotion, you've become close enough to have access to the only weapons now truly available: Krull's. While he is standing there laughing (which may not be for much longer), his array of arms lie mostly unguarded around his chair. The ones that immediately stand out to you are: an oaken crossbow with a small pouch of bolts, an ornate golden-hilted dagger with a gem-encrusted scabbard, and a heavy-looking steel broadsword, the likes of which are standard boilerplate for the truly great warriors of the region.
While you have the chance, what will you do?
As you get closer to the din, one of the men speaks out a bit more boisterously than his compatriots: "So, Krull the Widowmaker, I hear you and Maude the Merciless got down to business much like that whore over thar th' other night!" At this, the men erupt in guffaws and deep laughter the likes of which you would think could not be easily quelled.
It is then that you see the subject of the laughter rise slowly and deliberately. This "Krull the Widowmaker" is an absolute beast of a man... well over six feet tall, his shoulders alone are as wide as any door you've been through in your life, his grizzled beard would remind you of Genghis Khan (if such a person had ever existed on this world), the deep scar on his cheek boasts of his brazen battle tactics, his black eyes burn from within his skull with an evil you've never seen before, and the black bear pelt that he wears as a cape is rumored to have been ripped from the bear while it was still alive - with Krull's bare hands (no pun intended). As Krull rises to his feet, the laughter quickly and nervously subsides.
"I'll say this once," Krull booms. "The only reason Maude the Merciless and I ever ended up together..." (at this, he points across the room to the bar) "...is that damned cask of mead over there!!"
A nervous young warrior beckons upward toward Krull: "Enough to never want any of the King's Arms Inn's mead ever again, ey?" A few hesitant gasps escape the group. Krull the Widowmaker, still standing, peers down at the whelp. Slowly cracking a smile, Krull gives in: "Aye, enough to make me want to give the owner of this place the beating of his life!" To which Krull throws his head back, with his arms in a manly pose on his hips, and lets out a thunderous laugh, which the others readily join.
Amidst the commotion, you've become close enough to have access to the only weapons now truly available: Krull's. While he is standing there laughing (which may not be for much longer), his array of arms lie mostly unguarded around his chair. The ones that immediately stand out to you are: an oaken crossbow with a small pouch of bolts, an ornate golden-hilted dagger with a gem-encrusted scabbard, and a heavy-looking steel broadsword, the likes of which are standard boilerplate for the truly great warriors of the region.
While you have the chance, what will you do?