Prison Break (Open to Two)

[Gordie]

Timestamp: Takes Place one month after D.H.T. (http://www.althanas.com/world/showthread.php?t=19480)

(OOC: Alberdyne has been accepted, not accepting any more)

'Nearly four months' Bottlebrush thought to himself during a slow night at the Dragon's Head Tavern, 'I've been here almost four months, and its great.' The young shapeshifter had been the bartender at the Tavern for nearly two months when he was contacted by a person, who referred to himself as 'The Raven.' The young shapeshifter's job had been easy, milk a couple of members of the Corone Armed Forces for information that could lead to several aspects of other jobs. Bottlebrush wasnt paid well for it, but he was paid each time the shapeshifter brought in some relevent information.

Two days ago, Bottlebrush received a letter stating that they needed him to do an actual job, and they were willing to p ay triple the nominal fee. Not like they gave him an actual choice or anything, but he was willing to do 'nearly anything' for money, and that definitely included what they wanted done. Unfortunately though, the young shapeshifter would need more information, specifically any way to get in undetected.

The small pointed ears on the small humanoid's head perked up when he heard the bell ringing for entry. It was raining outside, and from the sounds of it, it was not just a small bout of winter showers, but something more sinister. Bottlebrush looked up to see his friend, Misir Yvul, and unknowingly let out a small grimace as he picked up a glass to start cleaning. Misir was a tall-ish humanoid with what looked like almost elven features and strikingly beautiful black hair that, when let down, went almost down to the small of her back. Other than the sullen look on her face, she was one of the most beautiful people he'd met, since working here, and was more than happy to have some company on this dark, and stormy, night.

"Hello, Misir." The young shapeshifter smiled as he motioned for her to get a chair. "What can i get you tonight. The usual?"

"No thanks, Bottlebrush. I'll just get some," She paused, as if trying to remember something specific, "'Beer Flavoured Ogre Piss'" She laughed, along with him, remembering the dwarves that were complaining about the ale a week ago.

Once the two of them had managed to stop laughing, Bottlebrush brought out a small bottle of some sort of Grain alcohol, and poured out two shots, one for her, and one for himself. "On the house." The young shapeshifter spoke as he pushed one over to her. "Whats on your mind?"

[Gordie]

Misir was a little put off by the young humanoid. 'How dare he think that I will divulge my secrets so easily.' The female guard thought to herself. 'Careful, misir, you dont truly know his thoughts. She reached down and grasped her locket, the only thing her father gave her pefore passing on to the Antifirmament. It was the most prized possession of hers, and easilly the most valueable, although not just for it's sentimentel value. The golden filligree of the locket felt cooler to the touch, indicating that there were indeed no enemies.

She looked around frantically before whispering in his ear. "I found a crack in the wall on the south side of the furnace, though it is only approachable on the cliffside. Something small, like a cat or a rat might get in, but for anything larger, he main gate is generally the way to go." Bottlebrush gasped silently as this secret was revealed. Either Misir was too drunk, and didnt realize she had said it, or she did not realize that he was a shapeshifter. Maybe even it was a little of both. She giggled slightly, intoxicated, or apparently so.

At this time, the bar was nearly empty, save for the pair of friends. Bottlebrush couldnt let his intoxicated friend go in good conscience, so he offered her his bed for the night, with the caveat that she had to be out before morning. Satisfied, he poured himself a congradulatory shot of grain alcohol.

[Alberdyne_Cormyr]

Saturday, February 1st, C.P. 1801
9:30 P.M. Standard Althanas Time (S.A.T.)

Many folk shared on specific pass time in Radasanth when they were off a hard day's work. That pass time was heading over to the nearest Tavern and having a hard drink or three before calling it a night. Rain poured down across the Firmanent in relentless sheets soaking the world below. The sound of water breaking against copper and brass roof tiles created a symphony of music. People carried umbrellas in a futile effort to ward off the rain that was carried by the wind. Certain folk were just coming off work and preparing to venture to the nearest tavern.

Amongst this crowd was a certain blacksmith apprentice.

A typical Radsanthian youth, Alberdyne Cormyr made his way towards the Dragon's Head Tavern where he would partake of a drink or three. Dyne Cormyr entered the Dragon's Head Tavern. He opened the doors casually, some rain poured into the establishment along with cold February wind. He closed the door, stomped his boots to let loose some water on the welcome mat and made his way towards an empty table. "By Tryden." Dyne whispered, he cursed softly after that as he cleaned himself off the rain that soaked his cloathing. "It's a terrible night tonight." He looked in the general direction of the world outside of the Tavern and was glad to be feeling the warmth inside of the tavern.

Dyne wore a heavy coat to ward off the Salvarn winds that came in this time of the year to make everything colder. It was made out of a heavy wool combination and colored a deep brown earth-tone. It was clearly a combination of wool and hide. Dyne unbuttoned his coat and removed the hood of his cloak, also made out of thick hide. Dyne took his heavy gloves off and smacked them together a few times and placed them in a traveler's pack. Walking towards an empty table, Dyne saw that he wasn't the only patron at this late hour.

Several other customers were coming in along with Dyne in an attempt to wait out the ice-cold rain. Dyne sat by the fireplace so that he could warm himself up when a waitress walked over to his person. Dyne grinned, he'd seen her before. "Hey Lucy." Dyne began. "How are you doing tonight?" Lucy was a tall girl standing at about 5'11" that weighed approximately 145 lbs. She was a little on the rotund side. Dyne didn't mind, the extra padding only made her more appealing. Dyne extended his cold hands towards the fireplace, he hadn't realized how freezing it was outside. Shaking in his clothing, the youth shifted in his chair feeling extremely uncomfortable due to the cold rain on his body. Slowly but surely, the warmth was returning to his person. "I am doing well, glad that I'm not outside." She chuckled. Dyne grinned. "Yeah it's a nightmare out there." He said in response. "What will it be tonight, the usual?" Dyne shook his head. "I need warmth. Let me get a chicken soup and and order of Scara Brae Vanilla Tea." Dyne ordered. "Consider it done my friend." Lucy responded and she went to go fetch his order. Dyne returned his attention to the fireplace.

[Gordie]

Lucy Wandered over towards Bottlebrush and back into the kitchen. The kid had said he wanted some Vanilla Tea, so he grabbed a pot of hot water off the stove, and a teabag and prepped the tea for young Lucy, even though he himself was probably smaller than the youngster. Misir had just left to go to his room so that she could sleep off the drunken state bottlebrush had left her in in his attempt at pursuasion, laughable though it was.

He stepped off of the rise that was built along the one half of the bar so that he could greet customers at their own height. Unfortunately for everyone here, He and Lucy were the only ones here, other than the barkeeper, who was running the kitchen in the back.

It took a few minutes, but the tea was finally ready, and the young shapeshifter strode over to the small table at which the young blacksmith sat, and placed the tray that held the tea. "Sir, your Scara Brae Vanilla Tea is here, and your food should be out shortly." The now-tea was hot, Just like it was supposed to be, but it was no where near as hot as the water for the soup needed to be to cook.

Bottlebrush looked at the apprentice for a moment, as he spoke, and slowly closed his eyes. He needed supplies, no, he needed some weapons. 'But how to show him without freaking him out.' The psion thought for a moment, and then decided tonight was not the night, but it needed to be soon.

[Alberdyne_Cormyr]

Dyne Cormyr liked the service in that joint. It was a working middle class establishment, and the on staff hands were generally adequate. Dyne looked at the bartender, a fellow with a strange name. Bottlebrush. Dyne never did forget that name. He grinned at the shorter humanoid, and nodded towards the lad. "Thank you there. I appreciate the quick service." Dyne said casually. His hands were warmed by then and he'd removed his cloak and coat. Placing both articles of clothing on the back of the chair. He wore a scarf, wore a heavy woolen sweater, and heavy pants. His black belt held his pants up.

Dyne adjusted his glasses carefully as he took a sip of the hot tea. His face grimaced for just a moment. He was reacting to the heat of the substance. Then, he put the goblet down on the table waiting for his soup. He was cold and needed warmth. Dyne would probably stay at the Inn section of the Tavern for the night.

Dyne took out a book from his personal packs, and placed it on the table. It was a technical manual on blacksmithing. The youth was doing a vocational study and needed to do research in his spare time. Dyne was eager to get out in the field and do some mining work as well. He'd been given adequate equipment for his trade.

Opening the pages of the book to his last course of study, Dyne planted his eyes on the pages. He was reviewing some information on blacksmithing, and as such focused his attention on his studies. The youth always came to the Tavern to relax and unwind. He'd been doing so for a few years now. At first, he came with his older Brother, Nahagaut Cormyr. Recently, his Brother was placed in active duty status in the Corone Armed Forces. Dyne missed his brother deeply. He worried constantly that something might happen to him. When Dyne turned 18, the youth started to come to the Tavern by himself after work. He'd been coming to the tavern for roughly two years now as a steady customer. Dyne took another sip of the hot tea enjoying the flavor of the substance. He recognized the smell of the cannnibus herb that several of the patrons were smoking in the tavern. He liked the smell of the herb and had always wanted to try it, but his Father, Melothac Cormyr, had set strong rules in the household against smoking and the consumption of herbal substances. Dyne obeyed his Father's rules vehemently. The only time he didn't obey them was when it concerned matters of the blacksmith shoppe he was a part of. Dyne saw that Bottlebrush wasn't leaving and turned to look at him.

"Do you need anything?" Dyne asked calmly with a soft and kind smile on his face. The scars from his recent venture into The Citadel still burned.

[Gordie]

Bottlebrush stood there a few more moments, barely registering the smile on Dyn se's face. 'Dyne is that blacksmith's apprentice, right?' His question was already answered as he saw the blacksmithing book on the table. "I need your assistance, and this is pretty hush-hush."

The young shapechanger spoke quietly, barely audible agains the sounds of the cannabis-type-weed-smoking-group. He closed his eyes in concentration as he willed the mental energy he wielded into solid form. "I need you to smith me some items, eight, exactly: Two shortswords, and a half-dozen throwing knives. The kicker is, though, that they need to look like this."

As he finished, the short man pulled his man above the table and showed the young apprentice the solid-ish energy blade. The blade had a definite bend in the middle about half way between the hilt and the tip, and it was sharp on the outside of the blade, but even sharper on the inside of the blade. Although the blade was transparent, dagger still looked like it had a small bit of weight to it. There were other things that Bottlebrush needed, but wasnt sure he could aquire threw a possibly unwilling gopher.

[Toy Soldier]

No matter the time passed, his young eyes could still see the blood. That thick, soupy red fluid that surged out of severed arms and legs, punctured ribs, decapitated heads, and all other manner of raw, lacerated meat strewn across Raiaeran soil. There weren’t enough Thaynes to grant solace to the millions of souls that were forcibly evicted out of their fleshly abodes courtesy of the continent’s necromancer. Yet even if there were, the weight of sorrow and vexation carried by these spirits would’ve buckled the knees of any listening Thayne under the immense pressure of their demands. Screams protruding from tireless mouths on the faces of aimless ether wanderers would’ve ordered that justice not delay in coming to the much needed aid of the elven people that’d become as powerless in the presence of Xem’zund as blades of grass. Indeed an amalgamated dictate from the indignant deceased would’ve been a powerful sight to behold, but it simply remained a mere pipe dream. Not a single Thayne dared to waste their time by lending a caring ear to roamers of the other realm. Those that perished were worth less in their afterlives and were destined to quickly move on and be disregarded, as their once beloved bodies were stitched up by the dark arts, only to be used as an additional limb in the Forgotten One’s unholy military.

There was no sight more horrific than that vile puppetry. Tobias had seen it first hand as he and Feanaro fled Eluriand in its last few weeks of struggle. Scores of undead savagely clawed through enemy lines, whole-heartedly obeying their master’s orders to conquer the city. However, what’d branded this nightmarish event into his mind was the fact that some of the fiends were people that the child knew, loved, and respected. Mages who frequented the grounds of Istien University, providing Tobias with a healthy dose of chastisement and encouragement during the youth’s stay there had cast away the cornerstone of their mortality thus crumbling the seemingly impenetrable fortress of their morality. And with no foundation with which to reconstruct their character upon, the mindless zombies now went against the very capital that they once sought to protect. The young child understood how an occurrence like this was feasible, but that in no way made it any easier of a pill to swallow.

It was due to this hard pill that the youngster opted to flee the country. This was the second time that he felt moved to make such a decision, and much like the first, he felt that he had no other alternative. He found that his heart guided him back to his homeland, despite Corone being the country that he’d initially ran from. Roughly two years had elapsed though since the string of incidents that had transpired at Oak Grove, so he reasoned internally that the orphanage and Coronian government had carried on to address more important matters.

“So do you finally realize what being of the light rewards you,” Talisman Grail inquired shielding himself from the rain via his umbrella, while Tobias who walked a few feet away from the tactician of the Toy World, remained silent, listening intently as he walked throughout Radasanthian streets with the merciless droplets pelting him from the nightly heaven. Yet the unfavorable circumstances did nothing to alter his apathetic countenance that masked feelings of anger and despair. Those dwelling in the macrocosm deep within his wagon had always warned him of drawing to near to the light, which in essence was any individual that took up compassion, patience, and love as virtues. For too long Tobias had resisted his companions, deeming them nothing but hateful beings that sought destruction where every their hand lay. But with the crisis that was now blanketed over the span of the entire elven country, the young boy found himself giving an ear to that which they had to say now.

“I understand….but it doesn’t make sense,” The child halted and sat on the stairs of a nearby residential home. “Since when does being a good person all of a sudden bring bad stuff into your life?”
“That’s always been the way of the world young one….you just were ill-informed,” Talisman placed a gentle hand on the shoulder of his gate keeper. The gesture startled Tobias since the strategist was always so inclined to treat the boy callously. The Grail’s strong hand was indeed a comforting one albeit a grand surprise. “But let us continue. You are well aware that we did not come to Corone to simply flee from Xem’zund. He just provided us with the excuse we needed to sever ties momentarily from Elensar.”

Hearing Talisman bring forth that reality caused Tobias’ to ponder over his deception. Never before had he lied nor told half truths to Feanaro, for the Bladesinger had been good to him over the last few years, proving to be a true and loyal friend. However, that which he preached was similar to what Battalion’s first caretaker had preached, and sadly the fruits of those lessons weren’t reaching maturation.

Traveling further down the rainy road led the two to a tavern. It seemed to be one of the few places open at this time. Desiring a rest and an ale, Grail led the young child into the establishment and sat down at the counter. There were but a few people in the place, but that didn’t stop him from looking around for the bartender. The action was odd to Tobias, since Talisman wasn’t a drinker, nor was he the type to lower himself to associate with tavern dwellers. But if there was one thing that the child did know about the strategist, it was that he never did anything that did not have an underlying reason to it.

Looking over his shoulder at the two men most certainly up to something, Grail smiled.

“Heh, conducting arms negotiations out in the open? Oh how inexperienced the youth today are.”

[Alberdyne_Cormyr]

He is offering work at this hour? Dyne rubbed a finger across his temporalis region, the lateral side of his head. Then, he ran his hand through his hair as he felt himself growing a little nervous. Nobody offers up work this late...it doesn't make any sense. The apprentice knew that Bottlebrush was an acquaintance. He would have to accomodate that acquaintance as best as he could. Put up against a wall, the youth sighed. To make matters worse, he saw a big man arrive with a smaller child. Dyne looked at the mysterious pair for a brief moment and then returned his attention to Bottlebrush.

Dyne felt a plethora of emotions course through his heart and mind as he considered the situation at hand. Dyne was merely an apprentice, he was not a fully fledged blacksmith working for Corone. He was simply trying to focus on making ends meet. With practically the entire world thrust in a world war, Dyne Cormyr knew that the governments of the world needed able-bodied weapon smiths. He knew that to be true, when other business were failing and loosing out to the oppressive rule of the times, weapons had become the first order of survival. Due to the nature of the Civil War in Corone, the youth knew that they had to supply equipment under the jurisdiction of the Empire if they were to prosper under empirical rule. The young apprentice listened very carefully to what Bottlebrush was saying. He was also thinking very carefully of the sort of response that he would give the bartender. Dyne did not like to turn clients down, but the offer was so sudden and unexpected that the youth knew there could be a lot of trouble for him and his Master.

"Look. Bottlebrush was it?" Dyne began. "I know I am a regular here and you've seen me for some time, but understand one thing. I am merely an Apprentice blacksmith. I do not own my own forge. I am working under a Master Smith." Dyne spoke just loud enough for Bottlebrush to hear. The youth continued. "If you want to employ my Master's business, you will have to speak to him, it is possible that he will assign me to your offer but it is not likely. I am still not of adequate skill level. Though I know I would be making an honest gold piece off your business, I am afraid I am not of the skill level, nor the position to accept your offer. You'll have to go to the smith shoppe I work at and speak to my Master. Follow all normal channels like everybody else." Dyne felt like a bit of an asshole for speaking to the bartender like that, so he took a deep pull of the tea and then turned back towards Bottlebrush. "I'm sorry but rules are rules. There's a war going on right now, and that has to be respected. The shoppes in this area are all in fully demand right now being lifelines for this or that faction. I can't say much more than that. Go speak to my Master on the morrow. He will be able to prepare your order."

Dyne could still hear the winter rain pouring on the roof of the establishment and on along the glass of the windows. Dyne turned to look at one of the closest windows and sighed, he had begun to warm up. He took another pull of the tea and filled his chalice again. He turned to Bottlebrush. "Looks like you have some more customers. You should go take care of them my friend. We can talk afterward." Dyne said and returned his attention to his drink and meal.

[Gordie]

"Very well, Apprentice smith" Bottlebrush said, before dropping his voice so Dyne could barely hear him over the din of the tavern, "but, I would prefer the Empire not know of my transactions, especially with things that will soon unfold, so i am forced to go through Mediaries, like yourself, and after most shops are closed." He glanced around quickly to see if anyone had heard him before speaking back up in a louder voice. "I'm sorry to have bothered you sir, how about a nice refill on the house?" The shapechanger walked away cautiously, and returned to his duties as barkeep now that more people had come in to eat and drink. He spotted a young child in the crowd and shouted. "Hey! Kid! Scram, This aint no place for kittens, like yourself!"

The rain continued to beat mercilessly against the tin roof of the Dragon's Head Tavern, as he worked his way over to the child, and moved to steer the youngling from the bar, when a crash of lightning splayed its way across the window and into the street outside. This caught everyone, including Bottlebrush by surprise as the lightning seemed to carve up the street outside. A man flew by the window, wearing what obviously was Carone Army Garb, and dissappeared from view. 'What the hell is going on?' The young shapeshifer thought to himself, viewing the absurdity that was this storm.

[Alberdyne_Cormyr]

Dyne listened to the canter of the rain pouring outside. It had a sort of rhythmic pulse to it. A sensation that calmed the psionic down. He felt as though water were pouring down his flesh cooling him down and making him feel alive. However, this was a winter's storm and the rain water was ice-cold. So cold that it sent chills down the youth's spine. He listened to the water as it hit the windows and focused on that for a long moment. The fireplace was lit up to its fullest capacity and gave off a powerful warmth to attempt to ward off the cold. It was only mildly successful. Glow-orbs kept the tavern well lit.

The objects were used in common all over Althanas and were fueled by arcane powers. Magi and engineers were capable of producing the glow-orbs so that the general population could use them. Dyne thought about that as he took another sip of the hot tea. Once his goblet was done, he sat back against his chair and closed his eyes to relax for a long moment. It had been a long month of hard labor. Then there was that time (http://www.althanas.com/world/showthread.php?t=19383) that he met that kid named Sabatykos (http://www.althanas.com/world/showthread.php?t=19358) and had a devastating sparring session.

He'd lost that first encounter, but the youth was not discouraged. It filled within him a resolve to survive, a resolve to get better. Rubbing his trapezius muscle, the psionic felt the scar there hurting for a moment. Keeping his eyes closed, the youth prepared to consume his meal after it had cooled off considerably. He liked his food slightly cool, intense heat burned the top of his mouth more often than not. He ate his meal casually, and ignored the situation between the new guests and Bottlebrush. He'd actually known the other youth long enough to know that the kid was somewhat headstrong and got himself into trouble more often than not.

Alberdyne Cormyr felt the texture of the meats and pasta that he was eating, and consumed his meal slowly. He enjoyed the taste, after all, he worked hard for ever piece of gold in his name. As an apprentice blacksmith, he'd earned a steady salary and received a solid education. And so Alberdyne Cormyr finished his meal, got up, gathered his belongings and prepared to go to his room. When suddenly, one of the guards placed a hand on the youth's chest. "Hey you there. You're Krugor Hakhim's apprentice aren't you?" Dyne looked at the owner of the big hand. It was one of the guards belonging to the local district of guards. He saw the flamboyant armor that the guards wore. "What of it?" Dyne asked with his deep Radasanthi accent. "Come with me, there is a matter that needs to be discussed with you." The guard said. "Now wait just a minute, I just got off a hard day's work for you guys to harass me--" The guard shook his head and Dyne saw frustration in the man's eyes. He kept looking around like a caged animal. "This matter doesn't have to do with us. It has to do with your Master. There's been an incident."

"Just what the fuck is going on? Out with it already man." Alberdyne said and waited for a response.

[Gordie]

"Just what the fuck is going on? Out with it already man." Alberdyne said and waited for a response.

The response the young smith got was not the one he expected. The keener hearing of the shapeshifter picked up the urgency in the guards' voices. Bottlebrush had spoken up in the slight lull, his back still making him look like he was dealing with the small child.

"If the matter is urgent, give me a moment, and I will lead you to a more private room, squires." The young shapeshifter extended his hand toward the door behind the bar, before directing the young child out the door. After he saw the child and his guardian leave, he led the trio, two guards and apprentice smith, into the storeroom behind the bar. The quartet of people entered the stores room, which had a pair of chairs, as well as a straw matress in one corner of the room. A small table, big enough for what would seem as a small child, maybe of about ten or eleven. On the small, straw, mattress was a threadbare blanket.

[Alberdyne_Cormyr]

Dyne listened to Bottlebrush for a moment and nodded. The information that these people had for him was probably really serious. Dyne looked at the troubled guards and sighed for a moment, then he went over towards heading in the general direction that Bottlebrush pointed towards. "All right let's be quick about this, I'm sure you gentlemen are rather busy tonight. I don't want to take your time up." Dyne said as he walked towards the empty room. The guards followed and closed the door behind them. Only one of the guards entered the room with Dyne.

The man was considerably taller than Dyne was. He saw that the man had sharp facial features, tightly cropped black hair that was also slicked back, and brown eyes. His hair was damp with rain and sweat. Dyne also noticed that the guard had a thick beard. On his chest he wore the symbols of the Corone Armed Forces. He appeared to be heavily armed and prepared for a long excursion away from home. Under his eyes was a thick trail of crow's feet. Dyne had a funny feeling that the man hadn't slept in days.

Turning his attention towards the guard, Dyne folded his arm across his chest and prepared to receive the dreaded news. "What's the news of the hour then?" He asked of the guard a certain amount of audible respect in his voice. Only just so. Dyne noticed that for a moment the man simply just stood there as if listening to something very far away. "I don't have a lot of time." The man began. "Dangerous times are coming to Corone. As you know the nation is enveloped in a Civil War." The man said. "There will always be casualties as long as the Civil War continues." Dyne frowned at that series of words. "Hear me out. Your Master, Krugor Hakhim has become one of the latest casualties of the Civil War."

"What!? When!?" Dyne suddenly yelled loudly so all could hear that were present in the Tavern. A sudden sense of foreboding gripped his intestines and refused to let go. "Tonight. While you've been here. Someone is beginning to target the most skilled craftsmen of the Empire. I need to put you under protective custody." Dyne shook his head upon hearing that. "I'm no coward. If someone is targeting craft people then that's your job to protect us." Dyne said harshly. Seeing the man's facial expression change to a grim one, the psionic bit his tongue. "What do you know?" Dyne asked. "Not a whole lot. His body has been found in a poor condition. There are no suspects. He was ripped to pieces...nobody is stepping forward to claim responsibility. We haven't ruled out the Corone Rangers as possible suspect." Shaking his head, Dyne looked at the man. "The Corone Rangers are defenders of the people! They would never harm a tradesman like my master." Sensing the tension in the room, Dyne decided to drop the subject. "Who knows of Krugor's death? Has his family been notified yet?"

"A secret dispatch has been sent. You were contacted because you are one of Krugor Hakhim's top apprentices. You know him quite well in life. You will be invaluable in help us solve this case. The Corone Armed Forces will protect you when it can." Listening Dyne laughed at that. "Protect me!? You can't even protect yourselves. You're not welcome here sir, you've over stayed your welcome. Don't bother me again." Dyne yelled and began to leave the room. Reacting, Dyne felt the man place a powerful hand on his shoulder. "Stop. I truly speak in jest. Your master must've meant a lot to you. I am sorry for your loss. If you want to help us apprehend the people responsible for your master's death please contact me again. I can always be found at the City Barracks when I'm in town." Letting Dyne's shoulder go, the man began to walk in front of the youth and opened the door to take his leave. "Dyne. If I were you I'd be careful about which side I chose for during this Civil War." The man said with a dark grin, and left. Dyne, spat on the ground but absorbed everything that was just said to him. He could do nothing more and went to his room to call it a night. His head was filled with dark thoughts.

[Gordie]

Standing there, watching all this, the young shapechanger just chuffed at the retreating guard. "Be wary, soldier," he muttered in a very low voice. "There are enemies far closer to you than you believe." Bottlebrush turned to the young smith whom had stayed beside the bartender for most of the interaction.

The young shapechanger had nearly attacked the guard purely out of spite, and that would have caused an even bigger scene than Alberdyne did with the guards. "How about," Bottlebrush piped up cheerfully, his human features taking on a slightly feline look in that particular light, "we get you another Vanilla tea, on the house, and celebrate your master's life." The young shapeshifter casually led the younger smith out of the room, and back into the main tavern.

[Alberdyne_Cormyr]

Dyne marveled at how Bottlebrush seemed to always be there at opportune moments. Thoughts passed through the youth's head as he considered his master's life. The youth felt like crying and falling asleep. He'd just learned that the man he'd considered a second Father had passed and the C.A.F. needed his help in solving the case. Dyne knew the time would have to come when he align himself with the C.A.F. They appeared to be the overwhelming power in the current war for Corone. Dyne just wanted to avoid everything about the war, but it was obvious that he couldn't at this point.

Listening to Bottlebrush's offer, the youth nodded. He felt completely numb at the weight of the news he'd just been given. It seemed impossible to him that his friend and teacher was gone. Now a member of the Antifirmanent, the man's brilliant life was forever snuffed out by a mysterious party. He wanted to blame somebody, even the C.A.F. for the murder. Dyne shook his head for a moment. He looked down at Bottlebrush as he clenched his teeth. "Some tea would probably be a big help." That's when he finally broke down.

Tears started to stream down his face. Images of the time spent with Krugor Hakhim flashed across his head. He placed his hand against a wall as he cursed out loud to nobody in particular. The youth closed his eyes as tears flowed down his face and he broke down sobbing before he even realized what was happen. Though he was an apprentice blacksmith, he was still a "normal" 18 year old youth. Dyne clutched at the wall for a moment as he stared directly in front of him.

Once he'd regained his composure, but still kept crying, the youth walked over to an empty table. Sitting down, he put his head on the table and began to openly weep. The youth did not notice, nor care, that several of the tavern patrons were looking in his general direction. Alberdyne Cormyr lost one of the most precious people to him that day, and he knew that there would come a time to mourn. Dyne wondered vaguely how the loss would affect his job.

[Gordie]

Bottlebrush watched closely as the younger apprentice mournfully stumbled over to a nearby table, barely concealed tears streaming down his youthfull face. The young shapeshifter watched in awe as alien thoughts came pouring into his mind from places even he didnt know existed.

Bottlebrush knew that part of Dyne's heritage was tied to the Corone Rangers, and his contact had said they'd pay triple his current income, why not share some of that wealth.

The young shapeshifter walked over to the waitess that was working with him. "Lucy" Bottlebrush spoke in a lower tone, "The young man over there just lost someone dear to him." The thirty-something woman looked shocked and stared over at Dyne, who was now openly crying at the empty table. "See to it that he gets whatever he needs, on the house. Use my tab if you feel it's necessary." The older waitress nodded sympathetically, still staring at the blubbering apprentice smith, as the bartender walked back behind the bar, putting a pot of water on the black-iron wood stove once he got there.

[Alberdyne_Cormyr]

Alberdyne Cormyr thought of his master for a long moment. As he thought about him, recollections passed through his immediate memory. Each of the recollections was a precious gem to the youth. More valuable than any of the Thaynes' Artifacts. To Dyne, he'd lost a second Father, a friend, and a teacher. Most importantly, he lost a teacher. Krugor Hakhim was known as an esteemed gentleman in Radasanth proper. Dyne's family knew that to be the truth. In underground networks, Krugor Hakhim's works were requested by the members Radasanth's leadership body. Dyne knew that the man had reached the esteemed rank of Mastersmith by the time he was forty years of age. From Dyne's understandings, the man smithed objects of war and destruction ever since then. Having close ties to the Corone Empire, Dyne could recall times when his Father, Melothac Cormyr, and Krugor Hakhim had vicious arguments about current events and politics. Dyne just wanted the two most important people in his life to get along. Despite these fights, Melothac Cormyr and Krugor Hakhim had developed a relationship that was going strong for many years.

Alberdyne Cormyr knew that to be true. It was the relationships that bound everyone to six degrees of separation. Observing from afar, Alberdyne Cormyr could only watch the ups and down of the relationship. As his memories flowed, he found himself remembering various matters of the man's life. Dyne wanted to celebrate the man's life, but the youth could not stop crying. He'd been through a lot in the past few years whilst he attempted to become a skill Blacksmith himself.

Dyne could see dark spots of his tears on his clothing and on the table beneath him. After about half an hour, he felt a warm hand upon his shoulder. Blinking the tears away, Dyne sat up and wiped his eyes. He had crow's feet under his eyes and they were puffy from crying. At the end of the day he was just a kid that lost someone very dear to him. Looking at the woman, Lucy, Dyne sighed heavily. "I-I'm sorry. I lost someone very close to me. They think it was murder." Dyne said calmly, deathly calm. The last word was pronounced very deliberately.

Lucy's eyes went wide and she sat down next to him. Dyne flinched visibly when she took his hands into her own but did nothing to stop her. His head was still overflowing with memories. He could have sworn he sensed Krugor Hakhim's presence in the room there with him. The youth looked around but saw nothing. At least not yet. Dyne was too preoccupied with the moment at hand, the initial loss of his mentor. Dyne's lips trembled as he thought about the situation further. His eyes quivered, but he held fast and strong.

He knew that his mentor would want him to be strong. He looked at Lucy for a moment as he regained his composure. "Is that tea ready? I could use a drink." Dyne said calmly. His voice broke as he spoke, and his memories were fresh in his head.

[Toy Soldier]

Tobias leaned against the outside wall of the tavern, standing underneath a makeshift awning in the alley that barely provided cover from the pelting rain. He’d grown impatient shortly after both he and Talisman were rushed out of the bar quite rudely for no reason at all. The injustice led the child to want to become uproarious over the incident while being ousted, but the wiser Talisman fiercely grabbed Tobias’ mouth shielding any audible and understandable word from fleeing his lips. “How much longer is he going to be?” The child tapped his foot impatiently. Grail had left him nearly a half an hour ago. “Stay here. There is something that I have to do….” The wagon world resident was never one for much explanation, but Battalion learned that when Talisman told him to do something, he’d better comply with his orders.

Sometime later, Tobias looked down the end of the alley and saw his companion emerge from the corner. He still possessed a stern countenance as if no time had elapsed at all. “Let’s go child.” The boy was clueless as to where they were headed or what they’d be doing, but he once again complied. Following Grail, the two walked up the steps of the tavern again. The lights had not been doused, but instead burned brightly. Several individuals could also still be heard behind the heavy wooden door. Talisman withdrew a thin long device from his pocket and stuck it in the keyhole, unlocking it. The warm air of the establishment engulfed them as the two reentered. Nervousness had also enveloped the boy for reasons that he couldn’t quite put together. Yet the answers to these feelings of his had began to be revealed when his wagon world cohort approached one of the dwellers that they saw before they were kicked out of the tavern some time ago.

“You look like you’ve lost someone,” Grail said to the gentleman who was sobbing with a shirt drenched no doubt from his tears. There was a wide grin across his face as he crossed his legs and sat back in his chair. “What if I told you that I could bring him back?”

When Tobias heard this, a wave of fear washed over him. When Grail said something he never bluffed. However, there were always strings attached. Hopefully for this young man’s sake he would realize that too.

[Gordie]

The strange man walked over to his new friend, Alberdyne, and Bottlebrush barely heard wisps of the strange man's statement. Necromancy, even in it's good-est sense, was trifling with forces even the small shapechanger himself didnt mess with, and generally came with more strings than a marionette.

A snapping of fingers drew his attention back to the table at which Bottlebrush was currently waiting. How long had the young shapeshifter drifted over to Dyne's table, one minute, five, he had no clue.

"Are you going to take my order?" A gruff humanoid, with green skin, growled in a very heavy accented tradespeak. "Or are you my dinner?" the humanoid mention, smacking what Bottlebrush took to be his lips.

"Umm" The young shapeshifter stammered, his mind still mostly across the room with Alberdyne.

[Alberdyne_Cormyr]

(Sorry for the delay on my behalf boys. I am still in this one)

Dyne's hands were shaking when the tea arrived. Feeling the grip around the goblet, the youth shakily took the tea in an attempt to relax himself. After a long moment, the man, Grail, approached Dyne's table. Alberdyne's eyes went wide once he realized what was being offered. He knew that the Monks of Ai'Bron often worked Necromancy, could this be the same thing? Dyne was numb to the world and simply listened to what the man had to say. He looked at Grail's companions for a moment and saw an interesting child, Tobias, that appeared very powerful to his eyes.

Alberdyne Cormyr simply waited for the right words to come to him. They never did. Instead, he stared incredulously at Grail for making such an offer. "I-I don't know what to say. The matter is not up to me." Dyne said calmly. "I am not in possession of my master's remains. Please understand. If it were up to me, I would allow my master's murder to be justified. But its not up to me. Larger forces are at work apparently for the Corone Armed Forces to want my help in solving the crime at hand."

Dyne took a long pull of the relaxing tea, closed his eyes as he focused on memories at hand, and put his goblet down. His eyes then returned to Grail's person. "Alas though, I am afraid that you will have to take a place in a long line after this." He said calmly, meaning no disrespect. "Pardon me, I am still feeling quite the mess." Alberdyne Cormyr said sounding quite educated for a ruffian lad of Radasanth.

"This herbal tea is good." Dyne said to nobody in particular. He turned to look at Grail some more further analyzing the man. "I thank you for your courtesy though. There aren't many gentlemen left in this world." The youth said and after a moment extended his hand towards Grail. "The name is Alberdyne. Alberdyne Cormyr."