The Order of the Post - IC

[Dr.Gunsforhands]

[Honestly, stopping to sleep was mainly for your employer's benefit. The rest of you have had plenty of time to nap on the cart ride, Hawke included.]


"I see. Well, I just thought it wouldn't hurt to ask..."

The cart approaches the hobgoblins.

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Listen, for whoever has the highest modifier: (1d20)[1]

...huh. Well, never mind that, then.

"Oh hey, look who's come back," says one of them disdainfully as the barrister comes down from the driver's seat.

"That guy?" says the other. "I thought you said you guys told him to scram?"

"Well, I did leave, did I not?"

"Yeah, well, generally, when someone tells you you're not welcome, it's not an invitation to wait a day and come back."

"Of course. However, strictly speaking, I wasn't merely waiting, but procuring a series of exhibits to augment my position regarding our previous impasse."

"Oh?"

The lawyer gestures to our heroes as they pile out of the cart. Hobgoblin #2 looks a bit frightened. Hobgoblin #1, who thus far has been doing most of the talking, simply frowns. "Oh."

"Now, as a lawyer, my recommendation would be for you to-"

"Yeah, yeah, to take our money and run. You said the same thing last time, and I told you that we're paid up until the end of the year, so we're staying put and that's that."

He turns his head away to scan the area, brushing Felbrook off. "So unless you have some word from the guy that hired us that he wants us to leave after all, you can come back when our contract runs out and we'll talk."

"But he's dead!"

"So what?" says #2, who seems a bit less personally upset with the human. "I mean, what kind of guards would we be if we stopped working every time a client kicked the bucket? Abandoned keeps are a staple of the industry."