Onida, a boglands wolf-hound, Outi the Iron Hound, Gene Erique, Guardsman, 3 Iron Guardsmen, Tero the Iron Hound arrive, following Jyri.

It's a crisp autumn morning in Arx and the smell of chimney smoke is in the air. The sun has only risen an hour or so ago, which leaves the sky a slightly overcast gray-blue color. A shopkeeper on the southern stretch of Honor Walk has lodged a complaint with the Iron Guard regarding a pair of peddlers who, the shopkeeper alleges, have been trying to move haze to people coming and going not only from his shop, but also the central marketplace of Arx as well. Of course such dastardly deeds can't go unacknowledgedin the very heart of Arx's economic center, so a few of the Iron Guard are given instructions to pass by and look into the matter during their next patrol.

The shop is a quaint thing with windows shuttered against the cold. Outside the shop stand two men, one of them actively calling out to passersby, trying to lure them closer. The other keeps quiet, simply taking everything in with quiet wisdom contained within his gaze. Soon a call fills the street as the more lively of the pair calls out, "Hey! You wanna lose feeling in your toes?!", at a young squire hurrying along on some business or another.

Being on one of those next patrols today, Jyri marches down the street with the subtlety of a large red bull in that armor and his entourage of dogs, as well. His patrols are singleminded things - he makes a route, he follows it, if he sees trouble he fines people. He loves fining people. So, he's decided to go by this area today to see if that complaint has any merit and seeing those two suspicious fellas there? He veers straight in their direction.

It's hard to miss a large red bull, whether literal or metaphorical. Especially when that bull is preceded by a pack of dogs. The squire veers clear of the Iron Guardsmen and his patrol-buddies, while continuing to ignore the calls from the lanky man standing near the shopfront. Jyri's presence though sends a different signal through the tall fellow among the two suspected haze-dealers. The animated way that he moves seems to diminish somewhat, all while he leans aside and tells the other man quite firmly, "Don't say a damn word, let me do the talking!" he practically hisses at the other. Meanwhile the man in the greatcoat simply shrugs his shoulders in answer while he watches the direct approach of the dogs and their Iron Guardsman handler. The silent one even goes so far as to lift his hands, palms facing toward Jyri, as if to show that he was unarmed. The talkative one though, he begins to fidget more and more as Jyri and his hounds draw nearer.

On the other hand, Sir Bhandn is just walking by, going from point A to point B. His presence is far more coincidental and not a matter of patrol. He's also got the telltale signs of being a very tired man: his bloodshot eyes are blinking more than normal, and he's yawning a /lot/. Yet despite the apparent fatigue, his shoulders are squared up and he can put one foot before the other in a normal stride. The shouting catches his attention on the way by, and he turns his head towards it, all while covering his gaping maw with one gauntleted hand.

Jyri tells his dogs something in his Shav dialect - the immediately stop right behind him, as Jyri moves up to the two men without even looking to see that the dogs ARE staying. He pushes his visor up, that one green eye taking in the two figures with the air of someone who has no time for foolishness and nonsense. "We've had complaints about you two," he starts matter of factly. "You know what we do about complaints form earnest citizens? We look into it. So, I'm looking into it. Looking right at it, me and my dogs here," he says, hiking a thumb behind himself. Though not that perceptive, he notices the large muscular knight walking by and gives a respectful nod.

"Complaints? We haven't done nothing!" the tall one states excitedly back to Jyri, "Quiet Rob and I are just sittin' here, taking in the fruits of Gild's commerce, and enjoying a little morning air!" The quiet one simply shrugs his shoulders while he hikes a thumb over to his tall, lanky friend. The presence of Bhandn doesn't seem to gather notice from either of the two men for the moment, given that they have a one-eyed Iron Guardsman staring back at them. The tall one reaches down to throw open his wool jacket in order to show way lays beneath it - nothing, by all appearances - as he exclaims, "We don't have weapons, we don't have nothin'! Upstanding, respectable citizens, we are!"

Bhandn checked perception + investigation at difficulty 20, rolling 20 higher.

Rymarr GM Roll checked perception(3) at difficulty 15, rolling 10 higher.

Bhandn, while largely content to let someone else handle it, has come to a grinding halt. Complaints? Done nothing? It's got his attention. While he does glance sharply at Jyri at the command to his dogs, he does give a return nod, then focuses his attention on the man commenting on the weather.

"A likely story," the Knight of Buttinski says, ruining the effect of his blunt tone by yawning /again/ right after. "Why not save everyone some time and just take what's in that coat's pocket out already. If either of /us/ -" a gesture to himself and Jyri "- have to do it, I think you'll find his dogs a more companionable option. They know how to drag someone by the leg, I'll wager."

"Uhuh," Jyri responds with the sort of droll cynisism of many guards in many cities that has heard it all before. He looks down at Onida who is sniffing the air interestedly, the dog's body tense and waiting. He didn't expect backup but sure isn't going to refute it - he shoots Bhandn a nod and a sharp appreciative grin. "Aye, they once chased down a running thief, pounced on him, and pull in three different directions. Lots of screaming," he explains helpfully. Onida emphasises with a little growl, like he can't wait. "Give it up, boys. Hand it over, you pay a nice fine, you go on your way. And keep away from around these parts. We get complaints again, a fine is gonna be the least of your worries."

Jyri checked command + intimidation at difficulty 25, rolling 10 higher.

Rymarr GM Roll checked composure(2) at difficulty 25, rolling 15 lower.

The tall one glances toward Sir Bhandn, looks back to Jyri, and then performs a double-take back at Bhandn. The comment sends the lanky man's eyebrows high upon his forehead and then Jyri's follow-up only seems to serve to further get to the resolve of the tall one. Without warning he pivots and begins to move, running as far as fast as his legs can carry him. Even as he begins to run, the lanky man shouts aloud toward his companion, "Flee, lard ass! Flee!"

Meanwhile the portly man in the greatcoat watches after his companion as he takes off running. The man in the heavy coat does not flee as instructed. In fact he remains rather rooted in place. Whether from shock, sluggishness, or innocence - who knows!

Rymarr GM Roll checked dexterity(3) + athletics(2) at difficulty 20, rolling 5 higher.

Rymarr GM Roll checked dexterity(4) + athletics(3) at difficulty 15, rolling 32 higher.

Rymarr GM Roll checked dexterity(3) + athletics(2) at difficulty 15, rolling 20 higher.

Rymarr GM Roll checked dexterity(3) + athletics(2) at difficulty 15, rolling 8 higher.

There's a great, I'm-getting-too-old-for-this sigh from the knight with the silver hair as the lanky man bolts for it. The dogs will probably have it handled, and that's enough for him. He'll watch with a hint of interest as far as how long it takes the dogs to catch up to the man, though, but that interest is passing and he shakes his head. "Your companion is an idiot," he says to the portly man remaining. "And so are you for trying to hide that." The majority of his attention will be kept for the fatter man with the Coat of Many Questions(tm) on him. "Take it out," he continues in a tone of forced patience, "give it over, and maybe you won't get thumped for wasting everyone's time /and/ coin. And speaking of coin, I hope you can remember faces very well, but I don't want to ruin the fun for him." His thumb points at Jyri meaningfully.

Jyri lets out a sigh. "They always run," he notes to Bhandn, like he's tired of the predictability. He barks out a command to the dogs - who shoot off after the running man. Jyri? He doesn't move much, apart from shifting closer to the remaining man and holding a hand out demandingly - Bhandn rally did all the talking needed there, apart from the inevitable Iron Guard addition: "Three hundred silver fine. Then bugger off." He glances over towards dogs and running man. "Err. They're trained not to bite people in the face, but Outi there, he's a bit of a rebel. I can't be sure of that one."

Onida, Tero, and Outi have been awaiting this moment all morning. Something to chase. Something to chase when told to chase it! Damn it feels good to be an Iron Hound! No sooner than the order is issued by Lord Jyri Whitehawk, the trio of hounds start off after the tall, lanky man. Really though? It's a decidedly short-lived chase as the tall man only makes it four steps before Onida's harrying him, barking and growling. She, perhaps to her own dismay, doesn't even need to bite him! A menacing snarl is enough to stop the man in his tracks as a potential contender for the Iron Guard's shortest lived foot chase. There he stands, hands at his shoulders, shouting frantically, "I'll pay the fine! I'll pay the fine!" Even as the trio of hounds continue to bark aggressively at their prize.

The hefty man in the greatcoat simply looks back at Sir Bhandn with raised brows, though he says nothing. Without a word he lifts his hands, again revealing that he has nothing in his hands as he shrugs. He even goes so far as to open his coat to show at Bhandn and Jyri both, though it doesn't appear out of the ordinary beneath.

The one who ran continues to stand still as a stone, his hands up as he shouts back from a few feet away, "Three hundred?!?" A snarl from Onida only serves to quiet him again before he calls out, "Alright! Alright! Just get them away from me!" he says while he points a finger toward one of the three dogs, with little more than a pointed finger on a hand still held high.

Bhandn doesn't bother to hide the roll of his eyes. "It's like people think I'm blind because I'm old." He mutters it, but everyone is close enough to hear, so he'll quit being nice about it. This is to say, he's going to step forward and make a bid for what's "not there", on both men. He's no spring chicken, after all. "The thing about dealing with squires," he says aloud, "is that they are very good at teaching you what to look for, that they don't want you to find out about."

Since it seems the running man is the one to pay and the other isn't about to give anything up, he calls over Tero to watch over the standing still man, while he walks over to get the money off tall running man. "They think I'm blind because I only got one eye," Jyri replies with dry humor. "They're not totally wrong. But I got three dogs that see quite well." He reaches out tog et that money. In truth? he doesn't seem TOO interested in the haze here. The fines are the important part. "And after this, you will bugger off, and not be seen around these parts unless it's walking calmly right on through without bothering anyone or selling anything. My dogs got your scents now. Can find you anywhere."

"Three hundred? Really? I ain't carryin' that on me! There's real criminals about!", the tall one exclaims. Soon enough the tall, lanky one hails down one of the Compact's greatest unsung heroes - a messenger. After a brief exchange the messenger sets off! That leaves the two men to stand about, eyeballing the trio of hounds warily. It also provides Lord Jyri and Sir Bhandn ample time to investigate the coat of the taller one. Contained within a hidden lining that find a meager amount of haze; barely enough to make proper use of. In fact, some of it doesn't even look like haze, but just a bit of dried out grape vine!

Some time later a middle-aged woman comes thundering down the street, shouting loudly, "That idiot boy!" Soon enough she arrives before Lord Jyri and Sir Bhandn, at which point she proclaims loudly, "My dumb ass son fetched himself a fine, eh?! Here!" She hands the fine off to the Iron Guardsman, determines whether it is permissible for her to take her son into her own custody, and once that permission is given... well, she marches over to the tall one, crooks a finger expectantly, and when he leans down to her own level - she grabs him roughly by the ear and begins to lead him eastward, "Some day your stupidity's going to get you killed!"

The one in the greatcoat, Quiet Rob, he simply watches after the mother-son pair and then exhales a sigh as he begins to walk after the pair.

Lord Jyri Whitehawk and Sir Bhandn Yvar. They fight crime!