We got a great big convoooy...

[Ymir]

"Hey Ruch."

"Yeah Stelkan?"

"What do you get when you put two...giant looking things, fifteen men, and a wagon with two more riding on it together?"

"Dunno Stelkan, what do you get?"

"A reason to send a missive to Councillor Kerrak, cause all that just came up before the wall."

"Serious?!"

"Yeah, look."

Indeed Ruch did look and spy a contingent of two half-giants and fifteen men whose cloaks were large enough to hide the carapace armor, and exotic weapons that were beneath. The half-giants wore cloaks also, looking like two giant tents. If they didn't appear so menacing the sentries would have laughed. Even the two men who sat upon the wagon wore large cloaks to try to hide their origin. What could not hide their foreign quality, of course, was the fact that it was a large, fat lizard that pulled the wagon and not a horse.

Babajide snarled his frustration at the wall. This WALL was not in the reports from the last reavers who'd tracked it down. If it had preceded them in enough time and passed by with little suspicion...damn it all. This was going to have to be handled delicately. The reaver couldn't allow them to know the exact nature of their business, but he had to gain entry into the province. He spoke in common, "We seek entrance to Myrkenwood...for rest and provisions. Could we be allowed entrance...?"

The two sentries glanced at each other for a moment before responding.

"You're going to have to wait until we can drum up someone with more authority...and it's pretty late. So you're going to be waiting at least a day."

"What do you mean a day Ruch?", Stelkan whispered.

Ruch murmured back, "You going to risk getting reamed out for waking someone up Stelkan? Besides...they might act suspicious if we watch them for a bit."

"Ahhh, gotcha. Pretty good idea.", replied Stelkan.

Babajide nodded and gave a small bow in his seat. "Thank you for your haste. We will wait here." He had no choice but to have the contingent comply with the sentries orders while someone decided if they were worthy enough to 'enter' Myrkenwood or not. So he barked a few orders in a tongue much different from common and the entire 'caravan' began to move in order to set up a makeshift camp.

[Tyralor]

There wasn't much in the way of pomp or ceremony once the Lieutenant heard of the gathering of strange men and their oversized caravan. Merely a shift in position as the Lieutenant leaned back in the chair and considered the situation. Legally speaking, there wasn't any particular reason to prevent any of them entry. they hadn't charged the wall, they'd spoken peacefully, and they weren't dragons. At least by appearance.

Of course, they were big. And the townsfolks had been startled enough recently that having a slew of oversized folk wandering around might just spook a few of them a little bit further. That, could lead to Kerrak forcing another decree forth, and stir up an even greater hornet's nest. So for a good minute, the Lieutenant drummed his fingers on his chin in a thoughtful manner. He couldn't refuse entry, based solely on the size of the humanoids. On the other hand, simply letting them stomp around wasn't a viable option either. Finally, he sighed wearily and leaned forward to address the youthful guard that'd finally reported there were people waiting at the gates.

"In the morning, inform them that they are permitted to pass. Due to their large size, and events beyond their control, they will have to leave their weapons in our care. A patrol of guardsmen will escort them upon their errands. Their weapons will be returned upon their departure from the province. Make sure to search their wagons thoroughly. Just in case they aren't as innocent as they are claiming to be. I'll send the morning patrols to expidite the process."

It wasn't what they would like to hear, Kilborn knew that. On the other hand, he had a region to protect. At least what was left of it. And if they were here for what they claimed to be, there would be no strong objections. Afterall, one required coin to purchase provision, not swords.

[Ymir]

Babajide heard the stipulations issue for their entry and cursed under his breath. If he refused to comply now they would never be let into the province again under acts of suspicion. There was little he could to but roll with the punches, as they say, and so he would.

The fifteen men who travelled on foot set down 5 swords made of bone, and onyx. As well as 7 spears of bone and onyx, 2 weighted nets, 2 lassos, and fifteen small crossbows whose bone crafted bolt tips were coated with a type of paralytic poison. The half-giants had two large clubs studded with onyx spikes and two large spears equally coated with the paralytic poison. Babjide and his driver carried two bone short-swords coated with the same liquid, a crossbow bolt like-wise poisoned, and a whip.

The outside of the wagon was windowless and gave no ventilation. It appeared simply as a secure wooden wagon. The inside of the single wagon, however, was rather intricate. The inside was lined with steel bars that were snug against the wooden walls and door of the wagon. Steel shackles fixed in specific positions on the 'floor' of the wagon that consisted of more steel bars. There were no seats in the back, and one could discern, with an inquisitive eye, that the shackles were laid out to accomodate someone's ankles, neck and wrists.

These men were after something, more accurately someone, very specific. Babajide said nothing to the guards that were inspecting the wagon. He would neither incriminate himself nor try to appeal to their guards good graces by making himself appear innocent. One could only say he appeared calm and collected, his dark red leather armour bearing a tribal dragon's symbol on an epaulet. At the least, he hoped, he would gain the opportunity to inspect the lands of Myrkenwood and at least form a plan based upon the information he acquired.

The decision for entry, after the review of their weapons and wagon, was what Babajide awaited now.

[Tyralor]

Sergeant Otis swished the tobacco juice around in his mouth more slowly than usual. Thoughts tumbled about within his head, and so far he hadn't found one that he liked. Even as he turned to one side slowly, and a stream of the vile brown liquid spewed forth from between his lips, his eyes never removed themselves from the interior of the carriage. Nor, did the eyes of the three privates that stood with the sergeant.

This was not what they had anticipated finding. A supply of New Dauntless carpets perhaps, or some Thessilane ironwood. Perhaps Ruannian trinkets or even Derry cloth. Perhaps a stash of Heath weapons locked in a hidden hold. Certainly, there had been no preparation for a prisoner wagon. This raised innumerable questions, though there was significant doubt that answers would be shared on this particular occassion. Still, the weapons had been turned over without great reluctance, which boded well overall. But why a prisoner wagon?

There were no rights to refuse entry to those that handed over their weapons peacefully. There were no laws preventing individuals from owning a prisoner wagon. There were a great number of concerns that could be raised, but nothing strictly speaking, illegal about the activity.

Muttering incomprehensibly underneath his breath, Otis stepped down from the wagon's interior and sought out Babajibe.

"Eys'un'ike'in'iz." He declared immediately, folding his arms over his chest. "Ut'a-n'utin'ung'eder." He added with a carefully constructed frown. One of the privates close to Otis wrinkled his nose distastefully and glanced from side to side.

"Eys'ages'uz'izit-r-upt'in, un'ux'ayn'uz'lv" He stated, pointing in the direction of the Order's gaol and barracks. "un'e'epek'in'uztu'shek'ooz'en'u'eve," the sergeant concluded, before stepping off to the side and waving to the guardsmen at the gate. The guardsman next to Otis stepped back to assure the gathering passage, and glanced down.

Sergeant Otis would watch the procession pass beyond the wall. The private next to him would hop around and try to clean off his boot. Others, would add these folks to their list of worries, and the Order would keep an eye on them, amongst all their other duties.

[Ymir]

Babajide stood nearby Otis and the three privates as they made their inspection of the wagon in which Babajide would place his intended quarry. It was obvious, in the reavers mind, that the weapons and the wagon would be looked upon with little favour. So the likelihood of entry was slim to none.

When Sergeant Otis shifted to address him, Babajide stood calmly and nodded in a series of successions once Otis ended a phrase, or gestured to some sort of object or building of reference as though completely understanding the man. When the Privates and the Sergeant stepped aside to let them pass, Babajide's cleverly disguised mask of compliance nearly broke in amazement. They were being let in...? Without question the reaver gestured his entourage forward and mounted the seat of the wagon before ushering the driver to press on into Myrkenwood while the men, and half-giants, followed along quickly.

They would explore the area and then go from there. If anything, Babajide would just acquire a weapon inside the town and coat it with a hidden vial of the paralytic poison. The set-up for a strike like that had to be perfect though, and their quarry would know that they were coming. It would expect it.

After a few minutes the driver of the wagon glanced over at the elder reaver.

"What exactly did that man say to you at the gate?"

"I have absolutely no clue Naro."

"...Oh."

"Doesn't matter though. We're inside...for awhile. That's what counts."