Mercutio hummed thoughtfully in response, keeping one hand on his reins and the other on his belt next to his blade. Just to be safe. "Well you're right on all accounts. I don't have an army in my pocket, and we're not coming through this way with the lady intact." He scanned the outside walls, trying to locate another entrance or a fault, and<span style="font-style: italic">certainly</span>trying to ignore the crowd of guards stationed at the threshold.<br/><br/>Son of a whore, those guards were<span style="font-style: italic">waiting</span>on them.<br/><br/>Merc took a slow breath, smiling once the guards were within proper eyeshot, though his muttering to Halam betrayed his appearance. "Now, I don't suppose you had a plan B in mind," he suggested hopefully, looking at his companion from the corner of his eye.<br/><br/><span style="color: #0080FF">"Unless you can pleasure a man with your mouth, I think we're fucked here."</span><br/><br/>"Fantastic."<br/><br/>Straightening up a little bit in his saddle, as much as was allowed with saddle sores anyway, Mercutio put on his most charming smile as they came to a soft trot at the guard's checkpoint. "A good day to you, sers."<br/><br/>"State your business in Aershire."<br/><br/>That threw Mercutio for a loop. It wasn't as though he hadn't been asked what his business was in this place or that before, but never somewhere like Aershire. From what he'd known of the place, it was beauty and temples and grace. Not the kind of place that would seem like you needed official business to visit. "The beauty of Aershire, of course," Mercutio lied through his teeth. "My friend and I, we've traveled quite a long way to see your temples and perhaps be blessed on our journeys by your priestesses."<br/><br/>The guard that had addressed him straightened himself in his mythril armor. "You'll leave your mounts here," he commanded, reaching up for Merc's reins.<br/><br/>"I'm sorry, I'm sure I didn't hear you correctly-"<br/><br/>"Your mounts. They'll stay in the stables outside of the city walls," the guard demanded, more insistent this time.<br/><br/>Mercutio gave Halam an overly dramatic look of feigned offense, slapping his reins down in the guard's hand and sliding off of his saddle - a feat that was painful to say the least. When he was on his feet and getting the feeling back in his ass, Merc slapped the man on his shoulderplate. "Keep up the good work, ser, I just don't know what Aershire would do without you."<br/><br/><span style="color: #0080FF"><br/>"I would never surrender my mount, under ordinary circumstances," Halam said, even as he slid off the side of the horse to plod heavily down in the dirt. "But to see the beauty of Aershire I would do much more. I trust the good sers will take good care of our steeds while we look upon the splendor of their city." He grinned, wondering if his teeth would crack - needing to come back for the horses complicated matters, and now they couldn't trade them in. <span style="font-style: italic">Fzhegh.</span> Or fuck, in the Common Tongue.</span><br/><br/>Mercutio was acutely aware of the eyes that burned into their backs and they crossed the portcullis into the city, and as soon as they were out of hearing range, he dragged his vertically challenged companion to a deserted side street. "This is not going as planned, my friend," he said, laughing the way he would if he had gotten stabbed in the stomach and decided to laugh about it. "If we can't exchange our horses, or even get them back, we'll be on foot with a captive noblewoman on a trip that took us fourteen days on horseback."