I'm looking forward to hearing from Thren for sure! 

I'll hold off on a post for a couple of more days to give you a chance to get the post up with work being so much... well, work! Believe me, I get that. 

Thank you, everyone, for your posts, they were all excellent as per the usual. You can expect the game to progress by Friday at the latest. 

Nomad, I'm going to put up a separate post up tonight detailing your interactions with the Innkeep to try and keep the game moving a little faster.

"I will find the song, or another will find the song, but the song will be sung this year or in a year to come. As it once was, so shall it be again, world without end."
   —Tuatha'an farewell

Excellent posts everyone! I will get another post up soon, probably within the next couple of days. If anyone is hoping to get a post up before then you stand informed!

May peace favor your swords!

I shall. As of now I've updated it with descriptions from everyone who's sent me one.

Also... Lanur has a strange mind.

Or however that's spelled.

I've progressed the game. Nomad, I know you wish to talk with the innkeep, but I wasn't sure if you'd still like to approach in light of what has just happened. Whatever Dane decides to do, it can be handled in the next post I think.

I look forward to your posts! 

May you forever walk in the Light!

"This whitecloak she was seeing.  What is his name?  Does he know of Millae's situation?  You have given the impression that he might be involved, or that this relationship might be a reason why Millae was accused.  Why?  And do you have any idea what has brought whitecloaks to this town?  Are they here often?"

Mistress Velalin paused and gently sat back down in her chair. A look of disgust painted her weathered, tear-streaked face as her reddened eyes turned towards Dane. "Jollin is the upstarts name. I don't know what he knows and I don't care to know. It'd be better for everyone if the whole camp of whitecloaks just up and left." Mistress Velalin paused, she sniffed and wiped her eyes. "Every few years a group of them will come into the area. That time is always marked with dragon fangs and hatred. I just don't understand why Millae is so infatuated with one of... them."  

"The Lord's son died?"  Dane had trouble feeling too badly for a lord, but apparetly some were good people and if this young man had been one it was a shame he had suffered and been lost.  "Is there a reason his death would be linked to Millae's trial?  Is it more than just the Lord being in a black mood?  Is it just that the Aes Sedai was trying to heal him?"  

"Blood and ashes!" Lanur interrupted, leaning forward so as to look the inquisitive man in the face. "I've not been able to eat in peace as my ears are filled with this simpering. Maybe if I were to draw it out in the mud, the case might be clearer.

"The girl was tending the Aes Sedai who was caring for the young lord. From all accounts, the witch was the only one keeping the little lordling alive so with her death the natural result is the lord's demise. The girl is in bed with the light-blinded fool of a Whitecloak, so he's in a prime position to set the whole thing in motion. 

"He likely has the girl's routine with the witch memorized and knows what she's fed and when. Would be a simple matter to either convince the girl to deposit some poison or to sabotage the girl's offering with poison. Then the Tar Valon Witch's death is blamed on the girl by the wooden-headed buffoon of a ruler and the Light-forsaken Whitecloaks get off without even being looked at.

"A blind baby goat could have put this together. The only one who seems to be not guilty of anything is this poor woman." Lanur tips his mug towards Mistress Velalin, spilling some of its contents over the side. "The lot of you would do well to follow my lead; eat your meal, get some rest, and then leave the boneheaded behaviors of city folk to the city folk.

"Now, mayhaps I can eat in peace? Hmmm?"

An awkward silence fell over the table. The silence was brief, however, as the scrapping of chair legs on the wood floor drew everyones attention to Mistress Velalin. The woman had risen from the table, her eyes alight with fury. Without pausing for thought, the old, grief-stricken woman scooped up her untouched bowl of stew and threw it at Lanur's hulking form, spattering his being with the cold meal.

"How dare you!" She shrieked, causing the common room to fall silent. "Millae had nothing to do with Nelelle Sedai's death! NOTHING!"

All eyes in the common room seemed followed Mistress Velalin as she whirled around and stalked out of the building, her dress flapping behind her. As the door to the Gleeman's Abode slammed shut, all eyes then turned to the table that Mistress Velalin had just vacated. 

This silence that now occupied seemed much deeper than the one experienced before, even more apparent with the contrast held between the jovial atmosphere that had permeated the room moments prior. The quiet seemed to last a long moment before Master Masteon cried out.

"Music, man! We need music. And drinks! Come, a free drink for everyone!" There rose a clamor of cheers as the patrons of the Gleeman's Abode quickly forgot the scene they had just seen in the light of free ale. The few furtive glances that were shot at the table stopped as the drinks were passed out and the fiddler began to play another jaunty tune. Master Masteon, however, scowled at the group as he assisted in serving drinks. 

I have an in with a certain rather well renown inn member. Honestly, I've known Bromern for all my life. In fact, I can say with the utmost confidence that the man basically raised me and is responsible for the person I am today. So he's the one to blame if anyone has any problems with me.

Yeah, when I was in 7th or 8th grade, Bromern asked if I'd like to create an account. Under the name of TsAh I joined. I was a part of a Star Trek game, but my young mind wasn't willing to consistently put up posts so I eventually faded from the Inn. A couple of years older, shortly after I had moved to the other side of the country for work, I decided that I wanted to play some more RPG and write some more. The RDINN killed two birds with one stone, and so I created a new account and joined a Cyberpunk game that Bromern was running.  That's how I ended up here.

It's good to be back, I can't wait to fully dive back in. And thanks!

That is the plan as we didn't really make it that far it should be easy enough to pick back up.

I intend to progress the game forward this Sunday, so if anyone would like to get their posts in before then, than feel free!

"This isn't my area - either going in straight up or contacting the cult.  I'm more than willing to let Charlie ply his trade.  We have to go in at some point - and soon - that isn't negotiable.  But if he can make that move easier I am all for it.  But we are not rich in time."  He looked up and down the street.  "Do we really want to keep standing here across from the door?  We don't exactly fit in this neighborhood.  Whether its the cult or the maid who spots us, that doesn't seem good.  Where do we sit while Charlie works his magic?  I wouldn't mind getting out of this rain, but I really want to get out of sight.  Makes me nervous."

Bloodbank felt that same sense of nervousness. It was a creeping feeling that itched at the small of his back. Furtively, he glanced up and down the street, eyeing the smattering of homeless on the street. He felt as though each and every one of them was eyeing the group of Edgerunners, appraising the gathering as one might a particularly juicy cut of steak at the butchers. Suppressing a small shudder, and unconsciously resting his hand on his sidearm. As he idly stroked the hard metal of the weapon, Bloodbank nodded. 

"I'm with Fixer on this. Let's pull down the street here a little way or somethin'.  I don't really care where just as long as we're not all loitering out in front of this building as though we mean to raid it." Bloodbank paused for a second there, considering the fact that that just might be what they ended up doing. He hoped not. 

Instead, a nasty little voice whispered inside his head, you're sending in some homeless bum to do it for you. 

With a slight twitch to his lips, Bloodbank disregarded that thought out of hand. It was just some nameless bum whose only real worth to this world would be the assistance he gave the group tonight. Honestly, if the bum ended up dead, it'd probably be a blessing for him, no longer having to spend his days wallowing in the filth and rot of this Midcity slum. 

Suddenly, with a crashing jolt, Bloodbank realized what he was thinking. What was he thinking!? His pistol suddenly seemed to burn in where he rested his hand, and without really thinking of how he looked, he snatched his hand away to rub the palm. He'd been on this job for mere days and already he was sliding back into habits that he'd spent months and months trying to purge from his psyche. Months of rejecting job offers, of alienating friends and colleagues, of tarnishing the slight reputation that he'd built in his trade while he lived in near destitution. All to try to be a more upright individual, and look at how well he was accomplishing that!

He grimaced, thinking back to his actions the past couple of days. Sure, he'd protested whenever the group had done something that had seemed even slightly morally gray, but that all seemed so hollow. So fake and forced. So illegitimate. Bloodbank felt a fraud, lying to the others and himself in an attempt to feel righteous and good. 

This isn't really who I am, Bloodbank thought morosely. I can pretend to be otherwise, but in the end, I'm just as I've always been: self-absorbed and quick to the gun. I can't change that. I can't change me. 

"Who am I fooling," Bloodbank mumbled softly, the quiet words lost against the inside of his Battlemask. 

Hey y'all! Hopefully you've all recieved my PM's. So, is anyone still down to participate?

Yeah, Brom can write and he makes good use of the ability.

Dragon, I will dig through your first post to see what I can find.

Alright, Mistress Velalin has answered your questions. I changed a question or two of your's Nomad to fit with the explanation that Mistress Velalin gave. If you don't approve of the change, let me know and I'll fix it to whatever you want it to be. 

I've also included the character descriptors for those that have sent me descriptions in the first post in the Q&A.

I look forward to your posts! May you forever walk in the light!

Aside from the Innkeep, nobody paid any significant attention to Lanur as he made his way to the only empty table. There were a couple of raised eyebrows or the scooting of chairs in the opposite direction as wandering gazes caught his visage, but their attention was quickly drawn back to their drinks and companions as Lanur passed them by. As the hardy outdoorsman sat with his back to the corner of the room, even that small notice he had garnered disappeared and he became just another patron to the Gleeman's Abode.

Lanur was quick to notice as the rest of the individuals he had met outside entered the inn, and it was also not lost to him that they had Mistress Velalin in tow. He watched with the eyes of a predator as the innkeep who had just momentarily welcomed Lanur bellowed out another welcome to the other group. The group of six made their way inside soaking in the homely atmosphere and heading to the only table empty enough to seat all of them together: the one where Lanur sat, cleaning his nails with a belt knife while awaiting a barmaid. 

The anticipated barmaid arrived shortly before the larger group made it to the table. She was a young, pretty thing with a rounded face flushed with the effort of keeping the inn's patrons desires met. Her dark eyes shone as she brushed her curly brown hair out of her face and surveyed Lanur sitting at the table. 

"Welcome," She smiled slightly, her eyebrows slightly raised at the state of Lanur's dress. "What can I get you, uhmm, sir?"

"Three bowls of stew, a loaf of bread, and a couple of mugs of ale."

The barmaid's eyebrows rose even higher as she heard Lanur's rather extensive dinner requirements, but she nodded. "And will you be wanting a ermmm, bath after dinner?" She asked, looking the outdoorsman up and down once again.

(OOC: any response)

The young woman turned to leave but paused as the others reached the table and began to sit down. Obviously baffled by the variety of the group of strangers she asked again for orders. She nodded at each of the requests made, informing the group when necessary that the inn was currently only serving stew, goat's cheese, and bread this evening. Having everyone's orders at hand she turned to walk away, but not before casting a quick, sympathetically curious glance at Mistress Velalin.

With the orders given, an uncomfortable silence descended upon the table like a thick blanket, only broken by the soft reassurances and comforts that Cho'Ra was offering the distraught mother. The silence seemed to last until finally the barmaid returned carrying several drinks in each arm. 

"I'll be back shortly with the food," she informed the group as she turned to leave, her plain dress swishing as quickly stalked away.

With the silence broken, the young bowman Dane spoke up, "Mistress Velalin, I think the time has come for you to tell us your story.  Why don't you start at the beginning and tell us what happened?  Without information, we cannot do anything.  In the end, perhaps there will be something we can do."

Mistress Velalin, who had seemed to recover from her shock slightly under the comfort of Cho'Ra, sniffed slightly and dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief before quietly whispering, "Are... are you all really going to save my Millae?"

(OOC: Assuming affirmative responses.) 

Fresh tears leaked out of the corner of the woman's eyes as she breathed out heavily, "Oh, thank you! Thank you so much. I... I don't have much, but I'll give you everything I can if you can bring me back Millae. Oh, please." She sniffed again. "What happened... I... I don't know much. My Millae was working for Nelelle Sedai, just as a maidservant. She was so very fond of Nelelle Sedai. Millae practically worshipped her. She never would have killed her. Never!" Mistress Velalin paused again, clenching her fists and taking another deep shaky breath. "She... She came home late last night and she seemed a little nervous, but also a little... Proud, perhaps. I didn't think anything of it, she was always very proud of the fact that she was serving an Aes Sedai. Then... Then this morning... Those two light forsaken guardsmen arrived at our home. They said that... that Millae wasn't allowed to leave... After... After a couple of hours a runner came, he talked with the guardsmen and... and... and they told Millae that she was under arrest... under arrest for the murder of Nelelle Sedai. Millae was so shocked... she fainted straight away  And then... then... the guardsman took her!" The last couple of words came almost like a cry, causing nearby tables to glance over and divert their gazes upon realizing who they were looking at. Tears started anew and Mistress Velalin slumped in her chair, clutching her face in her hands.

The barmaid had arrived during Mistress Velalin's spiel. It was quite apparent as she passed out the food that she was listening very hard while trying to appear not to. As Mistress Velalin broke down into tears again, the barmaid's brow furrowed and a frown creased her lips as she turned and scurried off. 

Silence fell at the table again, broken only by Mistress Velalin's sobs and the sound of Lanur sloppily tearing into his feast. This silence didn't last nearly as long, however, as Dane spoke up again shortly thereafter.

"What was the Aes Sedai doing here?" he asked.

It took a couple of moments before Mistress Velalin began again. Through her tears and her hands, she answered in broken sobs, "Nelelle Sedai was... was just passing through on business that I am not aware of. She stayed in Maelon to heal Lord Lanara's son who is... who was incredibly ill. He died last night as well in a terrible fit, I've heard. It's a shame, he was a good man. He treated us common folk fairly, once... once he even saved Millae's life... he... happened to be riding by when she was a young girl swimming in the Arinelle and a current took her... She wouldn't stop talking about it for weeks... to think of it, to be saved by a Lord... Oh, my Millae..." 

"How quickly are the authorities likely to act on their suspicion?  How long do we have to learn anything?" Dane asked after another moment or two passed.

"Lord Lanara is a harsh man. A good Lord, most of the time, but... but still very harsh. He will... will likely be very angry and grief struck... he will likely want her hanged within a couple of days... at least that's what that bloody guard Dain said... my Millae... hanged..."

"Who has the authority to order the young woman's arrest, or to order her release?" Dane asked, after a swallowing a spoonful of stew.

"Likely only Lord Lanara... We... We have a judge appointed by Lord Lanara, but I suspect that he... he will want a personal involvement due to the loss of his son..." Mistress Velalin sniffed, pulling her hands away from her face and making a visible effort to take control of her emotions. She seemed to have very minimal success, as tears still trickled from her eyes. Those eyes seemed to have a fire behind them though, a fire that up until now seemed to be all but distinguished. 

"Are there any other Aes Sedai in town that you know about?" Dane continued asking, ignoring the exasperated look that Cho'Ra seemed to be giving him.

"None."

"What is the evidence against this young woman?  What sort of investigation has been done?  Was it more than just those two who arrested her?"

"I... I am unsure... I spent all morning with my Millae, trying to provide comfort and the guards did not tell us much. It isn't much of a secret, though, that Millae and a young Whitecloak were getting... rather close..." Mistress Velalin paused here, a slight scowl twisting her tearstreaked face. It was only a brief pause, however, and Mistress Velalin picked up again, her voice a little stronger.  "I would bet my last copper that has swayed opinions."

"Was your daughter acting strangely today?"  

"No... No, I don't think she was... Well... Actually, aside from being scared out of her stockings by the guardsmen restricting her to our home, she seemed unworried. Normally she'd be... she'd be worried sick about keeping Nelelle Sedai waiting..." Mistress Velalin paused there, the scowl on her face shifting to a worried frown as she considered the revelation.

With a clatter, Cho'Ra cast her spoon down into her nearly empty bowl. With a small sigh, she adopted a polite smile. “Bowman, please do excuse my intrusion here. Mistress Velalin, as she has just relayed to you, has had quite the traumatic morning, wouldn’t you say? Would it be alright with you if we allowed her some air to gather her thoughts before addressing your questions, or at least let her have it of stew first? I am able to heal the body a little here and there, but,” she sighed, “alas, I am unable to heal the soul. And it would appear the Mistress could use a little bit of that, don’t you think? Stew can’t to much for it, but at least it’s warm.” Her smile moved to the side into a teasing smirk, “Well, hopefully, it’s still a little warm.”

"Thank you, Lady," Mistress Velalin murmured, wiping some of the tears from her flushed face. "But... But I wish to do all that I can to help Millae as soon as possible... Even if it is... difficult to talk about." She tried to smile at Cho'Ra, but with her red eyes and blotched face, it came out as more of a grimace.

As Cho'Ra continued to comfort Mistress Velalin, Za'ahrat leaned forward and fixed the tragic woman with a piercing violet gaze,  "Mistress Velalin," the Aes Sedai began, "perhaps you can begin by telling us about your daughter and the Aes Sedai. Begin wherever you like."

"I will tell you what I can, Lady, but I know very little of Nelelle Sedai," Mistress Velalin replied, quietly. Unable to maintain eye contact with Za'ahrat. "She... She was of the Yellow Ajah, and although rumors indicate that she was very proficient at healing she evidently had... difficulties with the healing of Lord Rain. As for Millae... She is such a sweet girl. When she was younger, she would bring home injured birds or other animals, determined to nurse them back to health. Until she was brought into the service of Nelelle Sedai, she assisted me at the tailor shop I run. She is such a beautiful young woman." Mistress Velalin perked up at that, looking almost fiercely proud. "She had any choice of suitors, why she picked that Whitecloak, I shall never understand! He is--"

Mistress Velalin stopped short as the Innkeeper walked up. Behind him stood two burly men with telltale scars that pointed them out as the Inn's personal guards. All three of them were carrying cudgels and looking grim but determined. Ignoring the others sitting around the table, the Innkeeper focused on Mistress Velalin. "Mistress Velalin, Teni tells me that these strangers seem to be troubling you. Shall I escort them out?"

Mistress Velalin blinked, obviously surprised. "Master Masteon, that's not necessary." She replied, her voice hoarse from the sobbing. "These kind strangers have offered to help free Millae. I'm... I'm just answering any questions they have."

Master Masteon visible relaxed, and as he eyed all those around the table, he began to blush. "Oh," He said, rubbing the back of his neck and looking down bashfully. "Oh, my. I see... That... Well... I'm glad to hear that, Mistress Velalin. We're terribly sorry to have interrupted... You know that everyone here at the Gleeman's Abode is with you. No one here believes for a second that Millae did... well, no one believes what the guards say. And if they do," he added forcefully. "Then they won't be here much longer. If there is anything that we can do for you, Mistress Velalin, don't hesitate to ask." With on more embarrassed look at the group, Master Masteon turned and shooed the toughs away, scurrying back behind the bar.

With a soft sniff, Mistress Velalin addressed the group, "I... Please. Please, if you can save her... Thank you... I... I am very tired and I just wish to return to my bed. If you have everything you need from me, please, I would like to take my leave."

Bloodbank had an idea. I'm unsure of the viability of the idea, but I'm pretty sure that Bloodbank himself would know of any possible negative side effects. Brom, is the idea even worth the attempt?

“Dear gods above and below,” Blossom gags. “That’s worse than last time. Is that worse than last time?” She looks to her companions for confirmation. “That’s gotta be worse than last time.”

Silently, Bloodbank nodded his head in agreement to Blossom's observation. The sewers here did seem to smell significantly worse than the other sewer sections that they had the misfortune of experiencing.

“Ok Blossom you, Echo, and Bloodbank head down. Fixer and I will become ‘homeless’ and watch the alley for ‘intruders’.” Casino instructed them through the stink.

Bloodbank watched as Echo moved first, scrambling down the ladder and into the filth. She was only down there a moment before she stumbled back out, looking very pale. She stumbled past Bloodbank and Blossom, pulling her balaclava down just quick enough to miss soiling it as she emptied her stomach into the alley walls.

“Ew!” Blossom steps back quickly and holds the back of her hand up to her mouth. “Gross.”

Slinging his bag from his shoulder Bloodbank dug inside, searching for a rag or something to hand over to Echo so that she could wipe her mouth. Doing this caused an idea to spring to mind. Rummaging further into his bag, the MedTech listened as Echo coughed and bemoaned her ability to spend any more time in that sewer. 

“Uh-uh,” Blossom shook her head emphatically. “Nope. I’m not going down there now either. Sh*t be too real. Too real!"

Casino glanced over at them, and seemed to understand. "Well that was my idea, Blossom, Echo, anyone got another one? I'm out."

"What if," Bloodbank asked, rising from his crouch holding two items. "I was able to fashion us some masks to filter out that sewer smell. At least for a bit." He held up the items he was holding; an undershirt and some rubbing alcohol disinfectant from his medkit. "I could tear this into strips, and soak those strips in this alcohol, and we could tie that around our noses. As long as we tried to breathe through our mouths, I'm pretty sure that the fumes wouldn't be too much to cause us problems, but the sewer smell could be largely blocked out with that of sterile alcohol. Think you two could stomach the sewers then?"

"Could I stomach the sewers, then?" Bloodbank wondered silently to himself. The smell was truly toxic, and he could feel the bile trying to rise in his throat as he thought of descending into the filth. "Do I really have the luxury of that choice, though? We are running out of time, and we are out of ideas. We need to do something!"

Just waiting on a couple of more individuals. I intend to progress the game by next Friday either way, as I know holidays can get busy and people just run out of time.

Oh no, enjoy your holidays! There's no hurry, I just wanted to make sure we didn't lose you guys. I look forward to seeing the posts when they come up.

Breebles got it. We are no longer accepting new players, but this game isn't dead yet!

Breebles, Nimu, Eol any idea when you'll be able to get posts up?

Also! If everyone would kindly PM me their character descriptors, then I can post something here for everyone to see as Bromern suggested.

“Ghlahn can you hear me. Come in Ghlahn.” 

Bloodbank froze in the process of stepping away from the fire escape as the homemade walkie-talkie in his pocket squawked. Feeling the eyes of the others upon him, he pulled the device from its pocket an looked down at it. He felt the heat rise up in his face as he realized just exactly what he'd done in leaving Ghlahn. Again, the group was separated without any form of communication. 

"Well, sh*t..." the MedTech murmured, reaching up to sheepishly rub the back of his head. He glanced around at the others as they stared at him. "I... I didn't think to return the radio to Ghlahn when I broke off to join you here."

"Unf***ing believable,” Casino cursed before taking a deep breath and then looking to the rest. “I’ll try to hook up with him, let’s meet back at that small diner we hooked up before.”

“No,” Vegas shook his head, “Casino, get the team to a safe place nearby. I’ll go get Ghlahn. Fixer believes that there’s a clock on this, so make it somewhere nearby and stay in radio contact.” Not waiting for confirmation, Vegas slappped his partner’s uninjured shoulder and turned to stride away leaving the remainder of the edgerunners waiting on Casino’s lead.

“Look,” Blossom remarks as though the information she’s sharing doesn’t really matter. “Fixer’s probs right. Many companies rig these boxes with tracing hardware in case some of their employees decide to make a few bucks selling surplus. So, we need to find someplace secure where I can jack in and do my full data transfer. Give me a quarter and I’ll make this pony dance.”

“Subway, maybe?” Echo steps up to the blonde solo so that their shoulders are touching. “We might be able to find a corner and give her some cover while she works. It’s close.”

A brief lull fell in the conversation as Casino considered their options while watching Vegas' retreating form. After a moment more, Casino turned to the group and spoke. “Ok, Echo suggests the subway, however, we are carrying too much stolen stuff to blend in. I say we find a sewer entrance somewhere out of sight and use the area below it as temp base till we reconnect with Vegas and Ghlahn. Or any better idea’s? Blossom you ok with a dark deep sewer squat?”

Bloodbank didn't have a better idea. In fact, his mind was clouded with embarrassment and he couldn't think of much more than the mistake he had made. He gritted his teeth as he tried to force his mind to focus on the activities at hand. It was difficult, try as he might he could just not get his thoughts to focus. It didn't take any thought to follow the rest of the group as they wandered over to a sewer grate and opened it up, unleashing the putrid scents that were always prevalent in the deep and dank places.

“Ok Blossom you, Echo and Bloodbank head down. Fixer and I will become homeless and watch the alley for ‘intruders’.” Casino directed, wandering over to some trash and refuse and arranging himself a small hobo nest. 

Bloodbank took the lead, sitting down on the wet, trash-strewn ground and dangling his legs into the sewer and then sliding into the darkness. He splashed into the sewer muck and blinked as his eyes adjusted, his optic splices granting him sight in what would've otherwise been blinding darkness. He grimaced, his boot were good ones - worn, but good - but even good boots would leak if they soaked long enough. Trying to divert his mind from what was soaking his socks, he reached up offering to take the equipment off the hands of the others as they jumped down.

As Blossom and Echo splashed down he handed Blossom the tech and leaned against a grimy wall, watching as Blossom began to work her magic. 

Have an absolutely wonderful time!

Im sorry to hear that, Eol. Hope everything goes better and looking forward to hearing from Thren.

Breebles, you're good to go. Nothing more is necessary at this point.

You're all good, Dragon. Just a little heads up.

It shouldn't be too hard to add another character to the story.

PM me what type of character you'd like to have. I'll create the character and send it to you for your review and approval then we can work on getting you in!

After you, however, I think I'll be officially closing recruitment. 

Alright, I didn't progress the game very far. You have all entered the inn, and I assume you have questions you wish to ask of poor Mistress Velalin.

I look forward to your posts!

Also, a little note Dragon. Generally, posts that aren't about your character and her actions would be more appropriate to post here in the Q&A thread.

"Sir, before you go, who would accuse such a gentle young woman?"

"Millae has been accused by no one but the law. Our investigation led almost directly to her. Now please, I must be off!"

"Thank you, sir, we shall see you shortly."

Shaking his head sadly, Jandran turned away carrying an unconscious daughter and turning his back to a defeated mother and six onlookers as he strode down the solemn street.

Cho'Ra moved toward the hysterical woman, still bleeding and sobbing at the fear of losing her daughter, "Ma'am, Mistress," what was it? Oh, "Velalin, may I heal you? I am no Aes Sedai, but I have been a healer in my, home, for as long as I can remember. May I?"

The healer's kind offer was met with nothing but sobs as Mistress Velalin fell to her knees, clutching her hands to her chest and rocking back and forth gently as her daughter was carried away from her. The heartbroken mother was so focused on her loss, the agony of it apparent on her face, that she seemed oblivious to the world around her. 

"My fellow travelers," the women standing behind the group began a little awkwardly, but found confidence and spurred on by the conviction of her feelings towards the woman she wished to save, she continued. "Will you join me in investigating this terrible matter and, if discovered that she is indeed innocent, assist me in allowing the woman to be pardoned and set free? Please, my friends, I implore you to help me with this task."

"Of course." came the almost immediate reply from Cho'Ra.

"Blood and ashes," Lanur growled while still watching the retreating soldier. Swallowing the urge to leap after the soldier, the woodsman waved him off with the women. "You heard him. This is a matter that does not concern us. I have traveled a good distance and am due a meal and a roof over my head. If you lot wish to pursue this, it be at your own risk."

With not so much as a glance back at the heart-wrenching scene, the bear of a man turned around and marched back, into the Gleeman's Abode, nodding slightly at the roguish Ebou Dari man as he passed and mumbling under his breath about the foibles of the aristocracy.

“Your pardon, good sir,” the Ebou Dari man smiled, returning Lanur’s curt nod as he stepped out of the woodsman’s path, gesturing toward the doorway of the Gleeman’s Abode as he did so. Thren al’Rilin’s gaze turned, again, to the women – first to the Domani healer who was tending Velalin, then to the onyx-haired and violet-eyed beauty who still floated nearby, and, at last, back to the timorous little Ebou Dari girl.

“Sweet girl,” he smiled softly, “Thren al’Rilin has not survived so many turnings of the Wheel by being fool enough to present himself, willingly or otherwise, in any jailhouse. A man stays out of the law’s way and the law stays out of the way of a man, yes? For a man to put himself directly in the face of the law is quite the risk.” The charming smile faded a bit, then, and his honey-hued eyes swept over the women, once again, before finding Jandran’s back some distance away, now. He sighed, then, and, stroking thoughtfully at his whiskers continued; “In this instance, however, a man believes that the law in Maeldon may not be working just so…” The smile returned to his lips as his gaze returned to Alyrëa. “…And where there is risk, so, too, is there often reward, hm?

Of course there is,” he laughed even as he bowed with a flourish, “Thren al’Rilin will happily cede to a girl’s request. But first,” he suggested as he rose from the bow and gestured toward the Gleeman’s Abode, “perhaps a meal and a drink, at least?

 "Yes, aid may be needed." A voice broke in, drawing the eyes of the group to the slim bowman standing closest to the door into the inn. Unfazed by the attention of the strangers, Dane continued, "But we don't know much.  The gentleman made a good suggestion when he proposed a meal in the Gleeman's Abode - it seems we were all heading there anyway.  Perhaps Mistress Velalin you would accompany us into the inn?  I don't think chasing down the good guardsman will do anyone any good right now, least of all the young lady.  But at the very least your exploits on her behalf this evening have attracted our attention.  Perhaps over a meal you could tell us more so that we might better understand the situation and formulate a plan to help the young lady.  Even going to the guardhouse won't do any good just yet."  Dane looked at the rest of the group.  "Anyone else tired, hungry and looking for more information before jumping feet first into a hornet's nest?"  Without waiting for a response he looked at the injured woman in the street.  "And you Mistress Velalin?   Some food and a chance to convince us of your servant's plight?"

Za’ahrat nodded her agreement and glided to stand beside the intriguing bowman. “I agree. We can discuss the matter as easily indoors as we can out here. The coming night will bring the chill with it, there is no reason we should add our suffering to the mix.”

With that being said, the beautifully serene woman turned and walked into the inn. A moment passed before the others began to follow. Mistress Velalin remained where she was, and only rose and followed when Cho'Ra gently helped her to her feet and led her out of the street and indoors, away from the small crowd of farmers and shopkeepers who were trying just a little too hard to avoid looking in her direction.

The inside of the Gleeman's Abode was clean and well maintained, although the tables and chairs seemed a little worn. At least, in another place it would have been considered worn. In the warm, genuine atmosphere of the inn's common room, it appeared comfortable and well broken in. The very essence of the inn was that of a lived in, merry little home. 

In the corner, sitting on a table with his legs resting upon one of the chairs, a young man played the fiddle. He creating a jaunty little tune that was vaguely recognizable as a song that Cho'Ra and Thren knew as Bouncing on the Stormy Seas but was known to Dane as Dancing in the Jackrabbits Den. The fiddler had a reasonable audience, all common folk who seemed to be trying to forget their worries in the music and drink. They sat interspersed among the tables, leaving only one completely empty that was located in the back, unfortunately not too near to the crackling fireplace.

"Welcome to the Gleeman's Abode!" a rotund man exclaimed. His bright white apron and ruddy, slightly shiny face seemed very genuine and open as he smiled from behind the bar on the wall opposite the door. "Please come in and make yourselves comfortable, I'll send someone right over." 

Yes, work got rather crazy and overwhelming these past couple weeks for me. However, its calming down for a couple of weeks so I am going to have a post up by the end of the week. 

Thank you all for your patience.