>>6196564You were confident that controlling Eman and his men was within your means. You saw how they treated you underground. How the people revered you and saw you as the second coming of their Great Leviathan. That was no mere lip service. You could see it in their eyes that they were true believers. You’d have their aid, that much was certain. It would just be up to you to ensure that it wasn't misplaced.
>“You have my word that they will follow my lead. I won’t be content to sit around and wait for this Marek and his band of serpents to come knocking on your door. Let’s bring the fight to them and save as many of your people as we can. After all, if I am to rule Morfis as its future king, then those villagers are my own people as well. And I cannot allow further harm to come to them.”“Hah, foreigner or not, you’ve got a good way of thinking.” Tobias says with a smile, clasping you on the shoulder. “Very well then. But if what you say is true, we have no time to waste. We’ll need to leave first thing tomorrow. I’ll mobilize my men to be ready. In the meantime, go down to The Sleeping Dragon. Check in on those soldiers I sent, and bring Uriyan over to our cause. Though he may be your rival contender, I’ll expect the two of you to put aside any differences while we face this common foe.”
You and Alvin take your leave of the governor’s office, and head down towards The Sleeping Dragon tavern. When you arrive, you find the soldiers that Tobias had sent to be milling about outside.
“Bad news.” The lead soldier informs you. “Seems Persefoni and her companions left this morning. Said they had another performance to get to.”
“Damnit.” Alvin curses. “Perhaps they’ve gone to rendezvous with this Marek before the attack.”
>“Whatever. Capturing her would have been great, but so long as she is out of Hima and can do no further damage, we’ll manage.”Stepping inside the tavern, an empty tankard of ale smashes against the wall nearest you. A rowdy party is underway, and Almyrans and Morfisians are both partaking in copious amounts of booze. At the head of the largest table is Warlord Uriyan. He swings around his tankard, singing along to some awful Almyran shanty that you are unable to understand. Him and his boys had clearly been sitting here for a while, drinking without a care in the world. Would you really be able to convince this man to join you in his current state? Before you can think too much about it, he spots you.
“Tristain d’Rusalka! Get over here!”
Leaving Alvin behind, you march over towards the Almyran’s table, while the rest of the bar looks on in a mixture of anticipation and dread.
“Someone get this man a drink, right now!” Uriyan roars as you sit across from him. A full tankard slides in front of you, and you prepare to make your pitch. “Good to see you again, lad. Did you come for another round?”
