Five people walked down the road. The one leading them seemed to be from a poor noble family. The four following were carrying a large boar on a spit. They were currently heading towards the southern entrance of St. Brassel. One of the guards on duty noticed the approaching group and stepped inside the gate through a pedestrian entrance. The other guard waited for the others to arrive before holding it's hand up to halt the group.
A sloven man exited the town through the pedestrian gate and looked at the large hog. The man in the front raised one of his hands and said, "You may rest." The four spit bearers lowered the hog to the ground and massaged their shoulders. He looked to the guard that appeared to be in charge and said, "You there. I seek to bring this into town to sell. Marvel at my ability to hunt, won't you?"
"Yeah, so 'ho are you?" The senior guard asked.
"Marvel before me and rejoice! For Chesterfield Cunningham of the Madelaya Cunninghams has arrived before you." He suddenly drew his sword with a reverse grip and held it before him. The guards reacted by pointing their spears at him immediately. He fearlessly continued, "See here! Upon my family's sword lies the Cunningham familial crest!" A few of the others who were carrying the spit covered their eyes with their hands.
The guard motioned for the other two guards to stand down and he stepped forward looking at the pommel of the sword. "I ain't 'eard o' no Cunnin'am from out o' Maddyladdy or wher'er yer from."
Without missing a beat, the man continued, "How much do you think I would get for this fat pig, good sir?" A chuckle was muffled from behind the man.
"Oi you listenin'? I ain't neva 'eard o' no Cunnin'ams afore. Whacher business 'ere?" the guard said, slightly miffed.
The man, completely unphased by the guard reached forward with his hand to shake the guard's and said, "Chesterfield Cunningham of the Madelaya Cunninghams, good sir."
The guard looked down at the man's hand in confusion and noticed there was a small pouch in his hand. He reached out to take the man's hand, the pouch returning with him when the handshake was over. Without trying to hide it, he opened sack and emptied it out into his hand. His eyebrows raised in surprise, seeing the amount that had been in the small sack and said to the guards, "Let 'em in."
He then turned towards the man who was smiling from ear to ear, "Welcome ta St. Brassel Mista Cunnin'am."
The man replied, "Actually it's 'Sir' Cunningham, but just between you and me, I truly hate those titles, don't you?"
The overweight guard nodded, seemingly uncaring about anything the man said. He turned and started heading for the pedestrian gate when the man called out to him. "Do you know where I could rent a room? It's awfully late in the evening and I must get my rest."
Without turning back, or seeming to care at all, the guard said, "In town." And closed the door to the pedestrian gate behind him.
By this time, the main gate had been opened. The man sheathed his sword and looked over saying, "Come! Let us bring the fat pig to the market!"
The procession entered through the gate and began walking towards the center of the town. The overall impression of the people living in St. Brassel was poor. Most people wore torn and repaired clothing, and dirt was visible on their faces and hands. The town smelled bad, like any sort of septic system in the town broke down years ago. The streets were cluttered with rubbish and horse droppings.
The man saw what appeared to be an inn and approached it. He gestured with his hand for the others to stay out side and he walked inside to. There was an older, skinny lady sitting in a chair, dozing off by a desk. When the door opened, she was surprised to see an unfamiliar face and stood up to welcome them. "Good evenin'. Welcome to tha Dancin' Lion. Are ye lookin' fer a room?"
The man nodded, and said, "Two if you have them, for five people. And I wonder if I could interest you in an alternative form of payment."
The woman squinted at the man and said, "What are ye thinkin?"
The man backed up to the door and held it open, "This."
The woman walked to the door and was surprised to see a giant hog lying in the road in front of her inn. "Ye wanna pay with that?"
The man nodded and said, "How long do you think we could stay for with that as payment, for the five of us."
The woman looked from the hog to the man and the other four, "Would a week be long 'nuff ta take care o' yer business?"
The man looked from the for by the hog and back to the lady, "Does that include meals?"
The woman nodded, "Twice a day. Once in tha mornin'. Once in tha evenin'."
The man replied with a nod, "That should do. Where would you like this delivered?"
"Ah! 'Round back. Follow me." She said as she closed the door to the inn and walked around the side of the house. The four picked up the spit and followed the man around the back of the inn. When they got around to the back, a man was walking out of a door staring at the pig. He was nodding and smiling a smile with missing teeth and said, "Jus' put it o'er 'ere." He said, pointing to a spot on the back stoop.
Once the hog had been put in place, they began untying it and coiled the rope, one of the four holding onto it. The old man seemed like he wanted to say something, but the woman shushed him. "Come 'round front, dear. I'll getcha a room."
The four walked around to the front of the inn and entered through the front door again. The woman came from a door in the small eating area and approached the desk. "I've got two rooms, I'll gitcha some more beddin' 'fore ye head to sleep fer the night." She looked at the group of five. "'ere's yer keys, its tha first two rooms on yer right as ye git to the top o' the stairs." I'll put the three beddin's in tha first room fer ya, an' two in tha second."
The man took the keys and said, "Thank you, my lady. My name is Chesterfield Cunningham. If you need anything, please feel free to ask."
With that the man turned around and started heading up the stairs to the rooms. He opened the door to the first room and stood in front of it, motioning everyone to enter. When everyone was inside, he entered himself and locked the door. He closed his eyes and listened at the door for a bit to see if anyone was outside listening and turned around to the others. He cast 'muffle' on the room and asked, "What do you think?"
"I think you're crazy, Evren." Walter said.
Evren stared hard at Walter and said, "I mean about the town. Walter."
Isobel spoke up and said, "They look so sad, and skinny. And it stinks in here!"
Harley soke up as well, "I didn't see any children, or even young people."
Evren nodded, "I didn't either. Tonight, I'm going to scout around town."
Isobel said, "Do you want me to go with you?"
Evren said, "No, but if you want to watch this place from the outside and see who notices us, that'd be appreciated." Isobel nodded.
"We might need to sleep in shifts too. Don't stay out too late, Isobel. The rest of you, while we're out, don't unlock the door or open it for anyone but us. When we return, we'll knock on the door, you ask who it is, we'll respond with our real name if things are ok. If not, we'll use a fake name. If it's a fake name leave the door locked, go out the window and make sure everyone gets out of here to a safe place. I'll find you, don't worry."
Walter asked, "Do we really need all these precautions?"
Evren shrugged, "I hope not. That fat guard went somewhere after we left the gate and probably reported our arrival to someone. I'm hoping its just observation and nothing else."
Fletcher looked at Evren and said, "No you don't. You want something to happen."
Evren gave Fletcher a look of disapproval, "Shut up, you. What I want and what I want are two different things."
"Sounds the same to me, Mr. Evren." Harley interjected.
Evren sighed, "You too, Harley?" Evren stopped for a moment to focus on his sensory field.
He looked to the others and said, "For now, let's get something to eat. If anyone enters the dining area, don't look at them, just focus on your food and when we're done, we'll head back here."
The five left the room and went downstairs to the dining area. They got a meal consisting of stew and hard bread with ale. Everything was quiet until Evren said, "Isobel, Harley, put your hoods up and don't look at the door. Keep your heads down."
The door opened and a fat and balding man entered the inn. The inn lady said, "Oh Constable. Fancy yer out tonight. Didja stop by fer a meal?"
The man looked around the small dining room and saw the group of five eating. He looked at the woman and said, "Yeah, I'll take a bowl of your slop. Ha ha ha!" He laughed for a while at his own joke and sat at an empty table in a position so that he could watch the five people eating. Evren was the only one who didn't have his face down. He was looking straight at the man with a smile on his face. He finished his hard bread by soaking up the remainder of the soup and walked over to the guard.
As Evren approached with a large smile on his face, he said, "Did I hear the lady call you 'Constable'? Well, I just have to introduce myself to you. He walked in front of, and then to the side of the man and shook his hand. "Good to meet you, kind sir. My name is Chesterfield Cunningham of the Madelaya Cunninghams." He grabbed the hilt of his sword and twisted it around so the man could see it and said, "See here's my family crest."
The man was startled slightly, but didn't react, when Evren grasped his sword, but stared at the pommel of the sword in front of him. "What's it supposed to mean?"
Evren feigned surprise, "You haven't heard of the famous burning blade before?" Evren sat down across from the guy as he said, "That's a story I do love telling!" As the constable was about to leave, the inn lady put a bowl of soup and some hard bread in front of him. He shot her a dirty look and she disappeared into the kitchen.
Evren unhooked his sword from his waist and dropped it roughly on the table in front of him. "Rumor has it that this blade was made by a master smith, hundreds of years ago. It's said that it would one day show its true power when against a mighty foe." Evren's eyes lit up and he said a little louder and with hand gestures, "Flames! This sword will burst into flames and smite those mighty foes with the power of the goddess! It's been passed down for generations, and each time it's passed down, the new wielder will go out and adventure the lands to see if they can find a mighty foe!"
The man nodded as Evren continued to talk, not noticing the table that had four others sitting at it was empty. "Never once has it burst into flames, but I'm hoping that I'll find a mighty foe and my family's sword will be awakened. Now, let me tell you about my great ancestor, Hawthorne the First…"