[CRP] A Wayward Son Returns

[Quayle_Quartersword]

Quayle Quartersword quirked a bushy brow at that. "So ye claim." It was terrible trouble judging if one was a necromancer just on looks alone, but there were other methods. He looked the his old father, elder Tummson and nudge his head towards this young so-called Baron. "Smell 'im..."

[Tummson_Beanteeth]

"Shnarr." Tummson Beanteeth replied back with a strong nod of agreement, for he was renown in the Mogwire for his great bulbous nose and its skill at sniffing out necromancers.

Hobbling forward in wide, exagerated waddles, the Elder of the Threshold Rangers stopped before Bhenithius and took him firmly by the wrist, lifting his arm and sniffing deeply at the young man's pit before rearing his head as a mighty sneeze exploded from his equally might nose. "Ahh-shnaaar!!"

With lines of goopey mucus trailing down from his nostrils, Tummson pulled a soiled rag out from inside his shirt and wiped his nose saying, "Not a trace of natural magic in this boy. He's very much giftless," he nodded pleasantly, "And he hardly got a stink to him, like he washed today, like a woman! Shnarr!"

[Farnil_Floptop]

The series of heavy chuckles errupted from Farnil's mouth as he stood watching from the rear where his head remained stuck in the lookie hole of the gate. "Ha hah! He bathes like a woman pah! Like a woman do!"

[Quayle_Quartersword]

Quayle looked to glare back at his son, Farnil. The boy was dumb, bordering on simple minded and at the moment a great embarrassment. "Close that hole in yar face where the words come out," he ordered sternly, a trace of bitterness in his tone. "And get yar pig head out o' that hole.."

[Farnil_Floptop]

Farnil struggled fruitlessly to get his head free. "But ima stuck, pah!"

[Quayle_Quartersword]

"We'll see how stuck ye arr..." Quayle grumbled gruffly, swivelling his body towards the gate of Mog Maw's palisade to eye down his fool of a son. Hunkering forward and with a few steady breathes, Quayle lurched forward into a sprint towards the gates, his beady Moggin eyes trained on the stupid head and floppy hat sticking out through the lookie hole. The worried look on Farnil's face brought a smile to his father's face.

As Quayle drew up to the gate, he jumped, swinging his booted feet foward to land a double soled kicked to the face of his son. Thuurump!!

Quayle landed on the ground in a uproar of autumn leafs and as he looked up to the lookie hole he found it empty. Groans of pain could be heard from the other side. "Thar we go, all settled," Quayle declared as he got himself up and returned his attention to the newcomers. "Well then. I welcome ye m'lord Baron," he made a rough and unpracticed bow.

[Magleen_Hoddlekopps]

"As it shoould be...." Minister Magleen Hoddlekopps stated blandly, her narrow nose raised haughtily and very pleased to see these most unsavory Moggins show some respect.

"You shall find all and mooore located hea.." she extended her skinny, long fingered hand to her side expectantly, palm upwards, and her Sunese assistant Lao'Mah placed a rolled parchment upon it. "As yoou will read hea, all lands within the mountain ranges of Månn, from Mog's Maw in the south, to the Hamlet of Lord's Cresent in the north, East Ridge Tör in the east and Möglen Dõr in the west all now belong to Baron Bhenithius Agesarian.." she gave her wrist a quick shake and the rolled scroll flapped open. She held it forward for the Moggins to inspect, all 67 wax seals of the Royal Advisory Council for New Nobles taking up the bottom foot of the heavy scroll.

[Quayle_Quartersword]

Stepping forward to inspect the offered document, Quayle squinted his eyes and made a face and after a while he admitted, "Look pertty, but ain't learned to read yer fancy words. No need o' it in a Threshold Ranger." At that, he waved her fancy document away. "If we can be o' any service.."

[Magleen_Hoddlekopps]

"Foor a start, yoou can explain why your lot has sealed up Möglen Dõr!" the minister's face began to redden, "What riiight do any of yoous have to do such a thing?! I ask yoou that! That mountain fortress belongs to your new Laird... and anything and everything in it must needs be documented, catalogued and dealt with, as those things belong to the King."

[Quayle_Quartersword]

"Shnarr...." the word came out black and foreboding, "If anything, we did ye a great service by sealin that evil and wicked place. Did so the day we heard of the Dark Lord's disappearance."