Rise of the Blade - Charles Moffat [20]
That surprised both father and son and they looked at each other and back to Pierce. Clinton spoke first: "I hadn't thought of that, but it might prove to be a good idea." He tapped his belly. "I've been getting too lazy of late and could use the exercise no doubt!" Already the warrior in him was coming back and he was remembering all the places he had wanted to go looking for adventure but had never had the chance. It wasn't too late was it? He looked at the older Pierce closely.
Reading his thoughts, Pierce stood and stretched. "I'm not used to being indoors this much. Much better to be outside," he said, leading the way to the door. He grimaced inwardly whenever he put weight on his right leg but refused to show it, sensing Clinton's thoughts. "After all, I have a runaway statue to catch," he said with a wink as he walked down the hallway.
Clinton stopped in the doorway and looked at his son fondly. "What say we go find ourselves some horses and supplies?"
Mitch looked up at him with newfound love and respect.
Pierce turned a corner and scanned the almost barren street. This was a ritzier part of the city where the only thing that plagued the streets was carriages, servants and beggars looking for a generous noble. Of which none existed. If they did, they wouldn't be rich for long when the beggars flocked to their door.
He had a good idea using his foresight of which direction was more likely to find Chev, and with a small group of veteran Harpers following closely behind him he had no doubts that they'd probably find the warrior within the hour. It was when it occurred to him that the d'Or Estate was just down the street that he decided it was time to pay the family a visit as this was most likely Chev's destination.
The elderly ceremonial guards at the estate's gate were actually members of the family, showing that they couldn't afford to hire guards. The pair didn't seem to mind however as they sat at the gate exchanging tales over a game of cards.
The band of warriors coming to the door surprised them a fair bit and then they saw Pierce's tell-tale antique bronze armour and relaxed. Were it not for the fact that it had become his personal symbol, Pierce would have dropped the armour years ago in favour of a suit of field plate. Now however, it was like a second skin to him. Its lack of protection in certain places had been fixed by Marque Draque's enchantments combined with Pierce's own ability to optimize the plates to maximum protection.
The problem was the lack of protection on his legs as the sharp pangs told him everytime he took a step.
Ignazio opened the door for Pierce and ushered them into a parlour room. "Would you care for anything to drink?"
Pierce held up a hand. "No, thats not necessary." He studied the boy, his mind probing into his subconscious thoughts. "We're here to speak with your grandfather and any other elders in the family."
"The statue?" Ignazio blurted.
"Yes."
"I better get mother too then," he said and disappeared with a quick bow.
Pierce glanced around the quaint room at his fellow Harpers. Only Martinez stood at ease, although that was probably due to the bottle of elvenquisst tucked into his belt. He leaned against the wall with his longflail dangled from his shoulder as usual, his leather armour worn a different colour where the chain rubbed constantly.
The Doctor yawned and knew this would be a long wait. He looked around at the other four Harpers: Iacova, a simple swordsman perhaps but his skills at stealth were superior to the average assassin; Thirza, a half-elf enchantress; Kanute, a large and highly skilled warrior with a honest face; Cap'n Tyn, an old seadog. They were all uneasy about this assignment, more because it really had nothing to do with