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The Kingdom of Mordant


Lady Tam
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Archibald darts out for a moment, and is almost immediately back with a bucket of what looks like, well, white, fluffy, and about the size of the ball of one's thumb.  He sits back on his haunches, popping the white fluffy things into his mouth, and watches the impending slap-fight 'twixt bard and monk with great enthusiasm.
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The dwarf literally appears to chew on this information for a moment, his jaw work back and forth.  He shakes his head once again at the bard's dramatics, but finally nods at the Castellan.

 

"If this boy is in trouble, perhaps we might be able to help.  and if there is any chance he's been put him harms way by any of these humanoids rangin' about ini the mountains, I will happily rid the kingdom of a few."  He crack his knuckles.

 

"So, when do you need us to leave?"

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Dymitri listens to the Castellan's response, and is about to accept, but is stepped on by Lucius, who overdramatically accepts the "mission".  Giving Lucius a sidelong look, Dymitri thinks to himself, "He seems a bit highstrung.  Father, told me about such "men", he also told me to steer clear of them, and their depraved ways.  I believe that is good advice."

Then the man sitting against the wall, glares at Lucius, mumbles something under his breath, then also accepts the mission.  The Elf, who is standing between the two, is taken aback by the man's mumblings, and he casually steps back out of the way, looking as if he has a headache.  

The Dwarf then speaks, also accepting the "mission".  Dymitri looks at the group and back to the Castellan, and says, "Sir, I too accept this "mission", to help my new comrades as best I can," looking at the assembled group, "and to honor my Father and family."

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Anden's hair falls away from one ear, revealing that, although quite the charismatic paladin, he isn't really an elf, just fashionably clad in the same gorgeous colour as the elf. He awaits either the castellan's word, or possible conflict between the bard and the monk, and savours the smell of butter and salt wafting from the psuedodragon's snack.
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"Yes your Magesty" Finishing his 3rd gobblet of wine.  I accept your mission with much interest.  Aramil gets up, pours himself another gobblet of wine, then procedes to sit back down.

 

(sorry all, didnt get to the computer at all yesterday)

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At young Lucious's dramitc speech the Castellan's eyebrows raise to his hair line. Young Lucious is a bit high-strung. This mission ought to calm him donw a bit he thinks.

 As each member in the group gives their assent the Castellan nods in approval. “Good!” he says, “I was hoping you would all accept. I can have everything ready for you tomorrow morning. I will need to know who will be needing mounts for the journey, so I can have the stable hands have them ready in the morning. And if you wish you may have rooms here at the castle for the night. Now, before you all leave is there any more questions or anything in particular you think you may require?”

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Not looking at the bard, Reg looks to the castellan

 

"Castellan" says Reg in a firm voice "as it appears most of this troupe will be riding I request two horses. One for me to ride, and a pack horse to carry my hand cart. It contains my life, and I've pushed it long enough to miss it if we were parted. It should also provide a sufficient perch for yon Footstool, and I would converse with it some more."

 

Reg says his piece and watches the reaction of the dragon thing. He wonders curiously at the substance the dragon thing is craming into it's mouth.

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Reg shrugs at the response of the dragon thing.

 

"Castellan, I assume supplies will be waiting with the mounts in the morning? If this is so then I believe I will retire to the parade ground for my evening training session. I will not require a room for the night, thank you all the same."

 

"I bid thee all good night, and to you strange creature." Pointadly at the Footstool. With that Reg leaves the room shaking his head slightly.

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