RP: A guest of the White Horses

As he disembarks the boat from Borian, Fritz gives Ashara a look of reluctant resignation, “I thuppothe we betht be on our way.” he says in as jovial a tone as he can muster before the two set off for the White Horses. Being a major advocate of research and experimentation, a part of Fritz is looking forward to finding out more about the two beings that are within him. The names Scuris and Flurris are all he has and he isn't even sure which is which. Upon reaching the White Horses HQ Fritz takes a final deep breath of outside air and feeds Charles a goodberry while he waits for Ashara to sort out the formalities.

Ashara would inform the man by the entrance to the White Horses of the situation with Fritz and that he would like to be examined by the Horses. While he finishes any paperwork he has to do Ashara walks up to Fritz and stands beside him while asking, "Are you sure this is what you want to do? You never know what will happen if we find something bad on those tattoos, and you will be forced to stay here for a long while for examination." She would look at the old man by the desk and say in a hushed voice, "Some mages will do anything to unravel the mysteries of the arcane, and some will even harm others for such knowledge."

*Kabooom* a small exsplosion goes off on the second floor, and black smoke billows out from the sleeping quarters belonging to one of the newest members. "IM OK!" a highpitch voice shouts. " Its indeed flamable! i told you it would work!.

"Well, thith should make for an interethting month." Fritz say's to himself, the smile evident in his voice despite being hidden by the beaked; leathery mask that always obscures his features. Fritz hauls his large wooden block onto his back and makes his way into the White Horses building; following Ashara past the still smouldering room of a small slightly flustered looking female gnome and to his new quarters, a relatively comfortable space with a heavy door and an even heavier lock. Mages flank the doorway awaiting Fritz's interment, undoubtedly to magically secure the door once it is closed. "Well old friend," Fritz adresses the owl perched upon his shoulder, "lookth like it'th jutht you and I for a while."

From the hallway you would hear tiny footsteps approach the door to the room. Followed by metalic clinks and clangs comming from the actual door. If confronted you would see the little gnome with a spanner in one hand and some metalic door lock looking parts in the other, wich he/she would quickly tuck behind his/her back.