Episode 1 Scene 1 : The Arrival

"I said, I with kid" he points at Quincy odd as it might seem Mukitz seems determined to stick near Quincy.

Quincy closes his eyes for a moment in order to recenter his annoyed and frustrated mind. He inhales. He isn't sure why this particular yroc is so attached and persistent towards him, but any hope of a quiet, meditative night cataloguing everything he is trying his best to remember to write down in his journal was probably thrown out the window the minute he walked up to Mukitz and asked him a simple, simple question.

Then the thought that perhaps Mukitz' intentions might be sinister, that maybe he wanted to fight Quincy to gauge his skill, learn his strengths and weaknesses. Perhaps there is more to Mukitz than Quincy is realizing. Perhaps-

The thoughts of his old master break through the escalating paranoia, you cannot live your life in fear; live it in faith. Faith in Torm, but more importantly faith in yourself.

*Exhale* He made it all the way here to Far Reach didn't he? What could a single yroc do to him?

"Sure, Mukitz, sounds great. Hath, I think I could use a drink or two before heading to sleep though, care if I join in?

Mukitz grabs his large tankard of spiced ale and hands it to Quincy, "Here drink, it good."

A red flag hoists itself quickly in his mind. But Quincy takes the tankard graciously from Mukitz, gives it a quick sniff for anything suspicious, and if he doesn't sense anything, he takes a healthy swig and hands it back, expressing thanks to the yroc.

"HaHA! Gud on ya lad! The day is young yet an we're in no rush." Hath gives Quincy a big grin and slaps him on the back jovially. "Yer all welcome ta join us, ya won't get no trouble in 'ere. Ent no-one stupid enuf ta try startin any in Mamz' place, else they'd ave ta answer to Mam 'erself! 'Tis also the best ale ye'll find in town if ya like it with any kinda flavour to it."

Hath leans out and calls over to Mam "Could we 'ave a round of ales please Mam?"

Looking back to the group he adds "Always make sure ya make an effort ta speak respectful like ta Mam, she won't take any less and the lads 'ere won't neither. First-timers often make that mistake an it don't often go well for 'em."

Most of the monks at the House of the Hand chose not to partake in alcoholic beverages, for it inhibits and confuses the inner workings of the body, which monks spend so long trying to learn to control. But every once in a while, it was nice to give up control and let your subconscious take the reigns.

However, Quincy is most definitely still a lightweight. As he swallows the ale, he coughs once or twice, and his eyes begin to water. Nevertheless, he says to Mukitz, That's some good stuff.

But upon the suggestion of regular ale, Quincy gives thanks to Torm himself, for he isn't sure how much more of that fire ale he would be able to drink.

It wasn't what he was thinking of doing but as Hath has ordered a round of drinks Corwyn thinks it would be churlish to refuse. "Maybe one or two then, before going back to the garrison," taking a sip of the ale when it comes.

With Hath ordering another tankard, Mumkitz passes his to the closest individual of the group that has not had any as his was still about half full. "Hear drink."

Quincy, with sweat already running down his forehead, takes a hefty swig of the new tankard, expecting it to be something else. But as it throws oil onto the fire that is becoming his stomach, he does his best to keep it down and swallow the entire mouthful. (Which, to everyone else, looks like a naïve teenager trying a shot of straight vodka for the first time.) But nevertheless, he smiles and tries to play it off as if nothing is wrong and he very much enjoys the taste of hellfire.

Corwyn takes a gulp and then passes it on to Hath.

Hath takes he mug and raises it in thanks. "So what brought you boys ta the Far Reach? He takes a swig and offers it for the next person to take a drink.

Magnus takes the mug from Huth and has a deep swig of the drink, it feels like liquid fire in his belly, but as a former mercenary sergeant he has a long experience of trying dubious drinks in sleazy dives.

"Hath, Mukitz, my name is Magnus, I was a soldier, I served in the Flaming Fists and reached the rank of sergeant but then I was touched by the spirit of Torm and now I travel the lands, doing my best to be of help to people and fight those who would oppress others".

Mukitz says, "Torm aye, Hath is one Paladin Tormite yes?"

Quincy is already feeling the effects of the ale, but takes another swig as it gets passed down around the group. "As am I. The temple where I grew up and studied in was dedicated to Torm." He pauses for a moment, making sure that he has the name right, "And I am Quincy, I am not sure if I properly introduced myself earlier to the both of you."

He carefully avoids the question of why he is here in Far Reach and responds "But pleasure to be in your company." He then takes a rather large gulp from his waterskin, hoping to make up for the fire that is burning within him at the moment.

"My name is Corwyn. I'm a ranger. I've never travelled to Far Reach and thought I'd join the caravan that just arrived today."