Subject Intoducing Harp and Ran-Ell

Harp, unsure of himself, looks around the elevated platform. It seems obvious to him that the young man is praying or performing some type of ritual, something that Harp is vary familiar with. Remembering his teaching - that patience is a virture - he kneels quietly behind the young elf and waits to see if the object of his search will finish soon.

After 15 minutes of waiting and watching, he finally decides to try and be subtle. He clears his throat lightly, trying to gain the elf's attention. Unfortunately, given his ancestory, his effort produces a grunt that sounds more like the mating call of a wild beast. Fear rises up in his heart that he has not only interupted his subject's prayer but may have startled him as well.

Trying to minimize his error, Harp speaks as softly as he can - "Master Ranthir, I bring tidings from your father".

He waits nervously as the elf slowly stands and turns to him.

OOC - Randy, please pardon my feeble prose and stilted action. I am relatively new to this and still tyring to get into the swing of things.

Kevin

Subject Introducing Harp and Ran-Ell

"I apologize for not acknowledging you sooner but I was in the midst of deep meditation and did not wish to break my focus." Ran states in a calm, almost distracted voice as he seems to look through Harp rather than at him. Ran seems to have barely registered what Harp has said to him as he shows no concern at the mention of his father. "It is Harp is it not? I believe I have seen you before though many years have past since that occasion. What is the news that you have for me that you came all this way?" Ran asks and then before Harp can reply says "No, not now. First we must share a meal with my grandfather and then we may converse. Follow me." Ran starts walking back towards his grandfather's residence without waiting to see if Harp follows.

OOC - Kevin, no worries, I'm new at this too. Everything sounds good so far.

Randy

Subject Salix and Surin

"Hail Master Bitteroot," Salix says bowing slightly and looking quickly to see that they are not being overheard. "My name is Salix. Wealdward of the Northern Forest. I bring word from Master Quarion Smith. Can we talk here?"

Subject Salix and Surin

Surin laughs. "Master Bitteroot? May be you're speaking to the wrong man, sir. My father is by the wagons, most likely, seeing to the ponies.

At the mention of Quarion, Surin's eyebrows raise. "Quarion, eh? Well, may be you're speaking to the right man after all then. I don't reckon Master Smith would have much use for my father, if you take my meaning. As for talking here, best not, if your business is private. Never know where a curious ear might be lurking, eh?" With a blur of movement almost too fast for Salix to see, Surin's arm whips out, flinging something, and there is an indignant yelp from immediately behind Salix, followed by a muffled jingle as Salix's coin purse hits the ground. Surin steps forward, scooping up the pouch in one hand and a small, tightly packed leather ball in the other, and hands the pouch back to Salix.

"Go on with you, Kinnit, or I'll be telling Jarl how you got that bruise!" he shouts, and the halfling child pelts away, sucking his fingers where Surin's ball had struck them.

"Sorry about that, sir. Now, you were wantin' a little privacy? I'll be done here in another 15 minutes, and the caravan won't be leaving for at least another hour or two. Say you meet me down at the King's Bitch in half an hour--I'll have a mug of the Copperhead Ale, and wouldn't take offense if you were to order me a mug if you were to get there ahead of me. Take is as a kindness, in fact--breaking camp is thirsty work. We can get ourselves a booth down there, or a room if total privacy is worth a few extra coppers to you."