An Unexpected Run-in

Cedric agreed to stay at the House of Priests with Ysolt and Hector, considering it meant that he didn’t have to spend any of his shards. He found the establishment’s library to be a fascinating source of inspiration for some enchanted tales, but some of the descriptions and details in their accounts were a little dry. The library’s curators quickly banned the troubadour from accessing the books further when they caught him leaving footnotes, suggestions, and crude doodles in the margins of some of their books. Cedric also understood how the rogue had gone a little stir-crazy with the chores they performed in trade for comfortable, warm, dry beds. Some of the chores were clearly designed to teach humility and moderation. Yet, the wanderlust that stirred in an adventurer’s soul could not be tamed so easily.

The bard hooked arms with the shorter burglar and expediently convinced him that they needed a night out on the town. “My tunes aren’t nearly as appreciated by the priests as they would be by the general public, and earlier you mentioned something about evening expeditions,” Cedric said with a wink as they strolled out a side door and turned down an alleyway. “Exploring the city in a group isn’t the stealthiest way to go about one’s business,” Hector mentioned as his companion holstered his loot and began to tune the strings. “No, not necessarily. However, I’ve always found that it’s better to have someone watch your back,” the troubadour countered as he plucked at the instrument’s strings, made an adjustment, plucked again, and then hummed along with the note.

Hector wondered why Cedric wanted to go exploring the city. Surely, if he had been around enough to determine that there wasn’t money to be earned in Marlock City, then there wouldn’t be much more to experience. He wasn’t even sure how Ysolt managed to convince the bard to stay with them, other than the fact that the House of Priests was a free form of room and board. In trade for chores, jobs, and missions. The daily chores were boring enough to make anyone want to leave, both men felt.

“Well, actually,” the rogue spoke as he got to thinking about what job he picked up from the temple of Sig. “Before we me-” he was quickly cut off by the sound of three drunken men stumbling in from around the corner. One of them knocked Hector off his feet, causing him to fall to the ground. The other two were leaning on each other and stopped to look at the taller man carrying the lute. “W-wh-…whazzish?” one of them slurred into his friend’s ear. Cedric stepped a couple of steps back, so as not to be in the way of their swaggering, but quickly noted their uniforms and medals. While Hector was unaware of the region’s hierarchy, the bard knew these men were militia officers. “WATSH WHER YER GON!!!” the one who knocked over the rogue bellowed out, flailing one of his arms in a threatening manner toward the hooded fellow on the ground.

Hector kept his head down; the hood hid his hair, distinct facial features, and the pure expression of anger that was written all over his face. “Good sirs,” Cedric then sang out as he strummed his lute. “Such disregard for your fellow man paints a poor picture of your military’s good character!”

COMBAT DIFFICULTY – 12

Hector’s Combat Score: 4 + 1 + 6 = 11 – FAILED!

All three men turned their heads and gave Cedric confused expressions. While they were distracted, however, his shorter, blond companion rolled onto his feet and barreled into the soldier who had initially knocked into him. The brutish man toppled over from the unexpected charge, yet before Hector could pin and punch him, one of the other two men stepped in to restrain the rogue. Kicking and wailing, he struggled to get away and took a hard punch to the jaw from the third man. Before he could get a second punch in, Cedric bashed the man over the head with his lute. Unfortunately, destroying the instrument in the process, it effectively knocked the drunken fool out and sent him toppling into Hector and his restrainer.

The rogue wedged his feet against the man falling on him and kicked him back. Cedric reflexively stepped out of the way, yet the force from the kick against a falling oaf messed with the other soldier’s balance. He fell back onto the first soldier, which loosened his grip on Hector. The bard quickly helped his dazed companion up, pulled his arm around his shoulder, and the two of them stumbled and tumbled into the back alleys until they were certain the militia officers were not following after them. Instead of heading back to the House of Priests, Cedric paid for a week’s stay at the Three Rings Tavern. He sent a missive to Ysolt explaining that they would be spending the week at the inn to take a break from monastic life. He didn't describe what happened, since those were details the priestess didn’t need to know. Plausible deniability and all.