“A letter from the Spellguard?” the shardmind asks himself “Did they found out I’ve killed one of them? I thought I had sorted that out…” He walks across his apartment, while deep in thought, milling over the words on the letter. Finally he says “I should head over there, to see what’s wrong. I don’t want to get in trouble with them. Again.”
Being a mound of stone, the shardmind quickly readies himself to go. He doesn’t lose time with the frivolities of life, like eating, washing or even dressing. He wears only a tattered robe, so he can cover what would seem appropriate for the society in general, so he can easily fit in.
He arrived a short time later at the bar, his presence and odd aspect always commanding the looks of everyone around him. It doesn’t bother him, though. Living among the flesh bags for more than 3 decades has hardened the already rock hard psion.
Shortly after him, a human walks in. Wearing a brown robe, with the hood pulled over his head, he looks flustered. He promptly sits in the same table as Biff and Beef “Hey! So how’s it going guys?” he asks the brothers “Did someone steal all the ale? I know a bovine that’s gonna be mad at that!”
Trading confused looks with his brother, the minotaur lets out a low growl while saying “The ‘bovine’ here thinks you’re at the wrong table, human.”
“Calm down Beef” the halfling says, getting up and near the human “You’re certainly in the wrong table buddy. What makes you think this is your place?” he says, now to the human, while putting a hand on his shoulder and the other starting to make her way towards the human’s pocket. He quickly returns to his seat “Maybe we’ve got ahead of ourselves. And maybe, just maybe, you can explain us the meaning of this” he slams a letter he had just stolen from the human’s pocket in the table “Mr. Wuobi Wan.”
“I-I’m sorry for my rudeness, friends” Wuobi stutters, clearly intimidated by the burly minotaur and the sudden appearance of his own Spellguard letter “As I was arriving here, I saved a young elf child that was being mugged. But when I thought I had the scoundrel under control, more of his friends appeared, so I had to flee. Since I had business here in the bar, and since you guys look tough, I thought they wouldn’t mess with me.”
“It pains me thoroughly to know that there are those who take what does not belong to them.” Biff says, shaking his head in disapproval. “Still, you’ve done well to come to us. Surely the bullies won’t try to mess with the bull here. No offense Beef.”
“None taken bro.” the minotaur says dismissively while reading his book.
As the conversation progresses towards the letter from the Spellguard, another figure enters the bar. A tall, shapely deva walks in, gracefully, almost if floating. She has a mystical aura about her, one that makes most men turn around and look at her. That is, until she stumbles on a loose plank of wood in the floor and falls face first to the ground. As the laugh bursts, it quickly subdues as a group of bad looking thugs enter the bar.
A human and a half-orc lead them, followed closely by a goblin and three kenkus. The goblin stays close to the door, keeping an eye on the barkeep, as the kenkus spread out through the bar, one pushing the deva aside, knocking her again to the ground, and the human and half-orc approach Wuobi Wan, one on each side, putting a hand on his shoulder and shaking him.
“You, asshole, you got a problem with us?” the human says to Wuobi, threateningly.