A Paladin Walks Into a Bar... [D1, Morning, OPEN]

"Here, at least for now," he answers with a smile.

Moira raises her voice and looks over to the counter, "Any places in town ya recommend visitin', Daphne? Work 'round here ya knows of?"

Kragg had been busy with his meal, not paying mind much to the conversations around him. The food here was so much better than anything the last ship's cook could prepare. Still, as he ate, he couldn't shake the thoughts from his mind about the shiny paladin at the other table. When he had finished his food, he finally stood and walked over to the paladin's table.

"Oi, you there. Shiny one." He stops at their table with his arms crossed, eyes fixated on the paladin. "Would ye mind helpin' me with a problem? See, I've heard tale of a man. A warrior of Apollo in shining armor who performs his duty to justice well. So well in fact... that he left his own family to die." His hands move to the table as he leans forward on it. "Ye wouldn't happen to be that man, would ye?"

Sigismund set his jaw. It was only a matter of time, he supposed.

"There are indeed tales. And I am indeed the man those tales refer to. Have you come to cast your judgment, or is there some deeper meaning behind your inquiry? Is it perhaps that you seek the truth, or is it that you already know the truth in your heart, as you have no doubt already heard it spoken?"

He stares Kragg directly in the eyes. "Or is there something else, instead?"

The half-orc stares back at the paladin for a few moments, then grins and laughs as he slaps his hand on the table. "Ha ha! I knew it! I knew ye had to be that man!" He turns back towards Daphne. "Miss Daphne! Give this man a drink on me!" He turns back towards the man with a toothy grin. "Ye must be a hard man if ye truly put yer duty over yer own family. A man who does whatever is ordered of him. I can respect a man like that. That takes strength." He gives a nod as he straightens back from leaning. "What be yer name, shiny man?"

"Sigismund. Of Stormhall, as you may have surmised," he says with absolutely no humor in his voice. "And what of yours?"

The half-orc thumps a meaty fist over his chest. "I be Kragg." A pause. "Of Bad Wolf Bay, I suppose. Well met, Sigismund of Stormhall." He grins as he cracks his knuckles. "Care fer a fight? Outside, of course. Miss Daphne doesn't care fer tavern brawls inside. Surely even ye feel the need ta let loose."

"I cannot say that I would care for such a fight. Combat is always a matter of last resort, for when all reason has been lost, and from the sounds of things, you still have your wits about you."

"Come now. It be a friendly brawl, eh? A test of strength. A chance ta show off what ye be capable of." Kragg scratches his chin. "Or per'aps ye prefer somethin' less messy, being a paladin and all that. 'Ow about we arm wrestle then? Surely that will do?"

"I would remind you that striking a Paladin is a punishable offense. And while your offer is quite tempting, I have been walking on the road for three weeks, and am eager to lie in a real bed for the first time in over a month. Surely you can understand that feeling, I trust?"

Kragg sighs and shrugs with his hands upwards. "I suppose that be fair. I know the weariness of long travels better than most. Still..." He gives a toothy grin. "If ye ever need good muscle or feel like pitting yer strength against mine, give ol' Kragg a call, eh? Ha ha!" He gives the table a good slap before returning to his own table. "Miss Daphne! Another drink if ye don't mind!"

Moira waits for the sailor to depart, then leans up against the table, an elbow finding rest against its surface as her palm cradles her chin, "A paladin's armor with a bit of a blemish? Seems like ya must have quite the tale yourself?" She asks in curiosity, "Or does it trouble you too much to speak it?"

"That depends entirely upon one's point of view," Sigismund responds quietly. "There is a grain of truth to his words, but only a grain. Some things that are simply beyond one's control. Even if one is a Paladin. I will tell the story if you truly wish to hear it, I just grow weary of letting the story fall upon deaf ears. After all, so many have already decided the truth long before they hear it from me."

Astra leans back in her chair once more, Agreeing with Moira. "I too am more then interested in hearing your story as well. Also I must say you have more restraint then then I, But I supposed I'm a bit more simple minded then you." Astra looks over at Kragg. "Though I'm not best with unarmed brawling as I am with a spear, I think I have a fair chance flattening him."

"Perhaps you would, but then I would be obliged to arrest the both of you for disturbing the peace," he smiles wryly. "And I am not in much of a rush to find how the local guard thinks of me, given that tales of my past tend to spread faster than I can travel."

The paladin looks down at his mug, and ponders where to begin.

"Some years ago, I discovered that bandits and smugglers had been utilizing the abandoned Dwarven halls in Stormhall for their own, ill-gotten purposes. At the time, the city was not unlike Bad Wolf Bay is today - overrun by the worst sorts, with people living in fear. Drugs and shady dealings ran rampant through the streets, and the people lived in fear for their lives should they meet with the wrong people at the wrong time. I convinced the leadership that the best solution to their problem would be to strike at the heart of the bandits that had plagued them for so long. And after a fashion, they agreed."

He takes a sip of his drink before continuing. "I will spare you the details of what we found down there. We had expected that it would be filled with drugs and contraband, but we uncovered a thriving slave trade of the worst kind as well. We put an end to it, but such operations do not grow to be so large without someone else working behind them. We never uncovered the source of their backing, but to remove such a large-scale operation was a great victory for the city, and despite what we had found, there were many celebrations to be had."

He taps his armor. "This was a gift, in honor of my service, forged from some of the materials that were seized during the operation. I tried to decline, but they had insisted that it was an investment - that I would better be able to keep the city safe should I accept it. Between that, and my wife's insistence, it was hard not to accept."

A fond smile passes across his face, and fades quickly. "She had insisted so because she had wished for our daughter to know her father. She wanted to ensure that I would safely return at the end of the day, and that is a hard thing to argue against. Years had passed, and slowly Stormhall had begun to finally get used to its newfound freedoms again. But as I have mentioned before, someone powerful had invested quite a lot into that operation that we had dismantled, and their memories run long."

Finally, he finishes his drink. "I came home one day, three years ago, after working to deal with another bandit camp that had sprung up nearby, to find my home alight, my wife and daughter trapped within. There was nothing that I could do."

He let his words sink in slowly as he calmly, and quietly, tells his tale to the two who had asked.

Moira listens intently, only shifting to rest her second arm on the table as the tale nears a close and Sigismund begins reminiscing of his family past.

"A tale of triumph an' woe.  I can see why ya wear your armor proudly an' yet..." she pauses, her brow furrowing while she tries to find the right words.  She gives up with a sigh, "I imagine whoever burned  it down, probably says quite the falsehoods now about yas?  Important 'nough and it would be hard to dispute."

She shakes her head, "Imma familiar with rumors and gossip, never heard that one though.  I see no reason not to believe yas.  Lies about people always seem to move fast."

Astra listens intently to Sigismund's past, She has an impressed look as he shares how he helped free the city of its chain. As the story continues Astra shifts uncomfortably as Sigismund explains how he lost his family, she stares at her empty mug, sharing an uncanny moment of empathy with it. Devoid of any substance or feeling, for this moment.

As he finishes his tale, Astra looks as she has something to say but she can't find the words, and her thoughts just come out as small sighs. After a few moments of silence from her she just reaches out and places her hand on Sigismund's shoulder. "How.. dare anyone talk such rot about you.." She clenches her hand into a fist. "They know nothing, He knows nothing!" She glances at the Half-orc, with a look of violent intent.

"It is not his fault," the Paladin cautions the angry woman. "Ignorance is not a crime. As you deduced, there were indeed many, many falsehoods which spread about me. It was hearing those stories circulate so quickly that I realized I had made quite the enemy. Within a matter of months, Stormhall itself began to question whether I was truly capable of keeping them safe."

He turns back to Astra again. "When I advise caution on your current path, know that it comes from a place of great experience. People are slow to seek the truth - for the truth is often far less interesting than the fictions that surround it. Seek justice, but know that no matter what you do, nothing will change what has already come to pass. So be certain that you pursue it the right way. Be smart, and take him home in chains if you must."

"Perhaps mercy will find my heart before I find him." Astra stands up and gathers her things from the corner table where she left them. "Thank Sigismund for the company, we really should do this again. I'm gonna explore for Abit." Astra gives a warrior's salute, then disappears out the door.

Moira glances to Sigismund as Astra disappears through the doorway, "If I hadda brother who betrayed me, I donna think I'd find mercy either. But I have no brothers nor sisters, so I need not think on it."

"Though explorin' may be a good option. Maybe the markets or somethin'. Got to be someone lookin' for a job to be done."

"Mercy would be to spare them the just punishment they deserve. It would be merciful to kill him where he stood. But to do such a thing would be tantamount to murder, and that is in fact still a crime here in the capital." The Paladin lets his words hang in the air for a moment, so that they might fully sink in.

"I wish you the best of luck on your search. I am certain that there is an overabundance of it to be found here. I only hope that you do not go searching in the wrong places. You seem like a decent sort, it would be a shame should some grifter fleece you with honeyed words of wealth."

Moira offers a sweet smile as she stands, reassuringly resting a hand on Sigismund's arm, "Hon, if there's one thing I know well, it's how to take care of meself. It's what I knows."

She reaches down and picks up her pack, sliding it over an arm back beneath her cloak. Her fingers grab either side of the cowl and pull it back over her head to hide most of her features, returning her anonymity to that of a short humanoid instead of a rare tiefling that everyone stares at.

"May ye outrun the lies an' fine peace, Sigismund of the heavy armor."