Chapter 1: Meeting the Cuckold Moose

"The dwarf said they were headed south," says Skeinkaldr. "Why are we heading west to the city?"

Gellbran found the lax nature of the guards strange, on account of the recent caravan ambush in the area. "It's up to you all if we venture into the city, however I believe there may be something of interest to be found here."

"Fine, just get on with it," grunts the goliath, eager to get his hands on one of the crimson cloaks.

Gellbran and Skeinkaldr lead the wagon towards Neverwinter's northern gate. The path turns to a cobbled stone, making the wheels noticeably loud and their transportation's presence known. The Goliath continued walking beside the wagon while the half-orc still guided the horses. The rest of the group seemed to be quiet in the back seating, most likely asleep or dozing off.

It took no more than a few minutes, but the group reached the gates. The moon has shifted in the sky, just peaking through some darker clouds. The guards had insignificant lighting for their area, so the two of them carried a torch in one hand. They were well equipped otherwise. Skeinkaldr and Gellbran leave the wagon a few feet behind and stop as the guards approach them. The two adventurer's position was more intimidating now that they were standing closer together.

One of the guards seemed to be superior and addressed the adventuring mercenaries with a stern expression.

"Hold there, what business do you have at this hour?"

The guard attempts to see past the two large men, but can't get a good look at the wagon.

"We aren't expecting any deliveries. Show us some documentation, rabble... or leave these gates to save us the trouble."

He motioned something at the other guard.

Malethor, who has been walking silently beside the wagon, hangs back as Gellbran and Skeinkaldr deal with the guards. He puts his hood up and watches.

"Hello, friends. Heard there was a bit of trouble this way. Just thought we'd come investigate. Isn't that right, Gallbrond?" I snap my fingers at the boring one and call him forward as I size up the two guards.

The guards stumble to ready themselves as the half-orc interrupts Xhava's seemingly polite introduction. The bronze scaled Dragonborn can not only tell they are hiding something, but sees an inch of fear in their eyes. The superior guard maintains eye contact with the group, however his right hand man cowers behind his helmet. The tall walls of Neverwinter block much of the bright moon's light. It is hard to distinguish their facial expressions more thoroughly.

Malethor, quiet behind his hood, notices some movement from the watch tower connected to the city's strong walls. He could assume there wasn't just two guards defending these gates. The beds in then nearby barracks will be left unmade. The Goliath blocks any direct few of the Revenant, for the moment.

The night guard's right hand is steady on his weapon to remain calm. He doesn't point it at the group aggressively. The other guard is twitching with nervousness. The night watchmen don't see much action, as this is a particularly reserved gate.

"We don't tend to warlike fashion. Trust worthy or not... put your toy away, soldier."

The guard recognized the half-orc's dress as one of a former soldier, then he tossed a strong wave to his companion to calm his twitch.

The movement shifted to the lower floor of the close building, becoming more obvious to Malethor's watchful eye.

Skeinkaldr folds his arms across his chest and scowls. These guards aren't his quarry. Yet.

"The only place this toy is going is between your head and your shoulders, unless you tell us what happened with the caravan that was ambushed on your watch not long ago."

Gellbran was ready for action at this point.

The guards from the barracks begin to file out one by one. They are all well equipped, though seem to be edgy from the late night stir. The talkative guard straightens up with confidence, now that his crew has fully arrived. His face returns to its previous stern look. Gellbran is the furthest forward of the group and the most aggressive.

"Those are confident words, you have no place speaking them here."

The night guard can tell that the group has been sent by the ambushed caravan's owner; Delrick Helmyre. Despite passively acknowledging that the group of mercenaries are here to track down the caravan, he still gives nothing more than a steady stare.

"Aye, well the caravan must be gone if it isn't here... Kind of obvious, fool."

The guard pays more attention to the group when one of his crew-mates whispers into his ear.

"Enough of this prattle!" Malethor moves forward to stand beside Skeinkaldr and lowers his veil, exposing his ghastly visage for all to see in the moonlight.

Skeinkaldr's nostrils flare, drawing in breath and enlarging his muscular frame. There's a lot of attitude coming from the guards, which is starting to get under the goliath's skin.

Ebri, frightened by the shouting, and threats of her comrades, she hides behind the wagon, and pokes her head from behind it. She clutches at her clothes as she feels a great uneasiness well inside of her chest.

In a calm voice, I take one step towards the guard. "How dare you speak like that to me. I am graced by the God of Death himself!" I smile and point one finger at the chatty guard. "Grovel."

Gellbran is getting excited with all the commotion around and grows a maniacal smile, "You all are going to wish you stayed in your barracks."

The chatty guard was silenced as Malethor revealed his frightful face. The moon's silver light complimented the shock with an eerie glow. The once confident night watch stood defensively in their polished boots, they showed no interest in making the first swing. They kept their mouths shut of any cocky comments. The seemingly superior guard felt the strangeness in Xhava's command, though he didn't budge to her magic.

Ebri was hidden from the guards' sight, giving her a chance to run before the commotion brews into violent combat. She can see Xhava not too far ahead of her standing up front and confident. Something about the Dragonborn gives Ebri a sense of security, maybe like an older sister of sorts.

Skeinkaldr and Gellbran notice the two guards closest to the barracks have their spears readied to throw, if they regain their confidence quick enough.

Frustrated, I raise my hands in the air and gesticulate towards the head guard.