06-09-2020, 11:52 PM
While the party waits at the alehouse they are approached by a pair of guards. The guard addresses Zwiche.
Guard-[Imperial]: "Thy be a foreign looking lot. Mercenaries perhaps? Pff, never thee mind. We seek conspirators. Comrades to a tall flaxen haired lady. Thou perhaps seen such a woman wandering about with some gang of sorts?"
Guard-[Imperial]: "Thy be a foreign looking lot. Mercenaries perhaps? Pff, never thee mind. We seek conspirators. Comrades to a tall flaxen haired lady. Thou perhaps seen such a woman wandering about with some gang of sorts?"