A letter to the Cormyrians

A grunt from the Hound's fort makes the extremely dangerous trek across the road to deliver a sealed letter to the Commander within the Cormyrian fort.

Commander Menines,

We have not spoken in some time, I would like to arrange a meeting between the two of us to discuss matters involving our local region as of late. If you agree to meet, please let me know when and where you would like to do so.

Hound Commander Cruven Schlachten.

The next day Cruven makes his way across the road over to the Cormyrian fort, a nice fancy wooden case under his arm. As he passes the refugee camp he takes a good long pause to inspect the various merchants, refugees, and adventurers huddled about.

((edited to move the entering part to next post))

A green-cloaked man steps forth from the tall grass, as Cruven approaches the camp he'd been watching. Tugging down his mask, Abraham gives the Black Hound Commander a nod.

"'Ey Cruven. Is it time?"

Cruven would nod to Abraham.

"Aye, yer welcome ta tag 'long if'n the Commander 'ere is fine with it."

He would then turn and make his way into the gates. Upon entering he looks to the first guard and informs them that he has arrived to speak with their commander.

Upon being escorted to the Commander, Cruven would set down the fancy box and open it up revealing a large selection of exotic cigars from across the realm, letting the Commander take his pick.

"Hope ye don't mind if'n I skip pleasantries an get straigh' ta the point o' this meetin. The refugee camp... I've gotten multiple reports o' um doin' tradin' with um spider humpin drow as well as harborin' such folk an other monsters they'd harbor back when they had their little underground trade city. In fact when I questioned one of the guards 'bout why they let a masked merchant tha' wont show his face ta his clients or other merchants, he told me flat ou' it's good fer their business."

He would pause a moment before continuing

"Now I aint about ta step on yer toes an kick um out seein' as they're outside yer fort, not the Hounds, so I'm here ta see if'n ye agree with me in the idea tha' they've overstayed their welcome."

Abraham, standing behind Cruven, crosses his arms and nods along with everything the Black Hound says. "I followed one a them drows there myself, slipped a mask on and was welcome there like they's proper people. They's lettin' orcs and zhents in, too. Ain't no good gonna come from lettin' killers hang about."

A large scowl crosses Cruven's face as Menines speaks.

"From Freehaven folk? No, however from yerself, aye I did. Ya lot forget what sent ya this way ta begin with? Or forget what've raided both our forts multiple times? We aint talkin' 'bout outlaws an brigands 'ere, we're talkin' 'bout bloo'y spider worshipin drow. Ya really tellin' me yer fine with folk encouragin monsters an slavers ta make camp outside yer walls? The folk these refugees harbor aint good for business, they're good for markin' folk who support um as drow sympathizers an villainous scum seekin' ta make a copper over dealin's with the worst o' the worst monsters.

Now, 'bout Shadowdale... The new "Lord" aint spoke to us since he took office, so I got no problem strippin my men from tha' town ta kick them drow lovin scum outta the area. I'd much rather keep it clean an jus' tell um ta pike off, bu' should it need ta go bloo'y neither me or any o' my men will think twice 'bout cuttin down a bunch of drow lovin' filth."

"He's been blinded by the gold, Cruven. You ain't gonna see no help from him or his, so long as they's pullin' a profit. I's ready to take a stand with you, though."

"So be it, bu' I aint gunna sit 'round while drow get invited ta my doorstep."

Cruven would collect the box of cigars as he prepares to leave.

"I'll try not ta spill any blood outside yer doors, bu' now ye know wha's goin' on when wha'ever kind o' conflict shows itself, which was my main goal 'ere anyway. Ye take it easy Commander... An enjoy tha' cigar, it aint a cheap sort."

He would then turn to Abraham, acknowledging his previous statement as they make their way out.

"Blinded by coin I can handle, lettin it turn um traitor is wha' I dont wanna deal with."

Abraham just nods, a grim look on his bearded face. He follows Cruven out of the Cormyrian fort.

Cruven hastily clanks his way over to the commotion, grabbing the first Hound he can.

"Report Hound, wha' happened?"

As he lets the Hound explain the situation he would signal to the gate guards to seal the door.