GM Wolf |
The year is nearly 1000 YK and festivities are in full swing. Yet still greater parties will happen on the eve of this year the 12th month of Vult. The final wardings of the month should be finished. Sharn is even more alive than it is most holidays as the coming of the millennium is upon the world!
Each of you have been tested over that last few months, others even the last few years, with trials of your own and that of your companions. Adventuring seems to be apart of each of you but now you have settled down into your daily life at Sharn.
Saronis is back to his smithing, creating new weapons for the next unnamed adventure and making a profit on the side.
What are each of you doing now that life has settled down again? Where are you residing? What preparations are you making for the coming party for Cil?
Rhobannon |
His shift in the Deneith smithy in Upper Tavick's Landing complete, Rhobannon leaves the enclave in Copper Arch and begins the walk to Sunrise. Seeing the people waiting in line for gondolas made him reflect upon his luck in securing a residence in the same district as he worked in.
It's no Ocean's View or Dalan's Refuge, but it's a far cry from New Cyre.
He spent his shifts forging mundane weapons, maintaining armor and weapons, and occasionally various other pieces of metalwork. At home, he spent his spare time making a few potions to sell cheaply out of the enclave. Twenty percent profit for Deneith for allowing him to sell out of the enclave, twenty percent in take-home profit, and undercut the competition by ten percent. Not terrible, just enough to subsidize his side projects. And the mercenaries didn't seem to mind buying cheap potions.
Ah, the other unmarked employees. I wonder if I was part of the new hiring initiative. More and more 'monstrous' new hires, hiring even at cost to undercut Tharashk.
Rhobannon arrive at his home, conveniently near the stairwell down to Middle Tavick's. Celebrants on the street were loud, their yells filtering up even this high. Not that he minded, it would just be difficult to concentrate for a few more hours.
Maybe I should just go down and have a few drinks...
Falko d'Deneith |
The Millenium..!
Never thought I would see this day! thinks Falko as he pushes the ashes to the edge of the bowl with a wooden spoon with clumsy but powerful movements. His grey curls tumble down to his face to meet his thick beard as he bends forward, concentrating on the simple task. Once the ashes are all removed, he replaces the burning incense sticks in a neat octagonal pattern and puts down the spoon behind the bowl, then walks slowly to a backroom in the corner of the church. His back gives him pain, but he keeps his posture straight as he can.
I always thought the Mourning would keep growing and cover all of Khorvaire. Perhaps it will. Perhaps the priests are right: It's the end of the World?!
He picks up a broom and swipes around the shrine dedicated to Dol Arrah, then to Arawai. Slowly he makes his way from one shrine to the next, collecting the dust, cleaning each shrine carefully, the only steady work a traitor of the Five Nations could find.
Redemption! That's all they have to offer me! So many dead... Such a fragile thing... he muses further as he carries back the broom to the backroom. Yet, the 'fragile' Treaty of Thronehold held still, despite Falko's claims that it wouldn't. His ideals shattered once more.
In the tiny backroom, he moves a cabinet away from the wall, revealing a crude wheel carved in the stone. Slowly, painfully, Falko kneels in front of it and whispers softly:
"You twist and turn,
Men's every word;
It spins like a wheel,
And rocks like a keel;
The World is not steady,
It changes, never ready."
Then adds as he places a piece of bread on the floor:
"I pray to You.
The way you've torn me inside out,
Tear me outside in.
A man needs a purpose.
I'm no traitor!
I'm no traitor..."
He pushes himself back on his feet, wiping a tear from his face, pushes the cabinet back in place, then leaves the church to walk back to his place.
Shalyna Alathreil |
The sun was quickly setting, and Shalyna had yet to find a place to sleep for the night. It'd been three days since she'd left the small town and made her way to Sharn. It'd been almost four since she found Thunderous Howl in the place's bathroom.
Are you sure you don't know what's going on?
I'm just as clueless as you, Shalyna. I'm a sword, not a historian or one of those social scientists after all.
Well, hopefully this time we'll have better luck.
Shalyna walks through the front door of a small inn, and quickly finds the innkeeper.
"Um? Excuse me. Do you have any rooms free? I'd like to pay for one for the night."
GM Wolf |
The large barkeep with his muscled arms bare, gruffly says to Shalyna, "Sorry lass, all my rooms are full but you can sleep in the commons for three copper. With the end of the year just around the corner, if 'yer lucky enough you might find a slum inn room available. Trust me you don't want to be doing that. I know a friend who connects others to rent a room from Renters if you be interested in that. Much more secure than the first two options."
---
As Falko exits the church a figure of a small folk is leaning against the church wall. If Falko does not look at it or approach it, it begins to follow you.
Falko d'Deneith |
Falko notices the small man but tries to hide this. As he walks past him, he tries to guess the person's intent based on his general posture and demeanour, while he tries to recall whether he's seen him before...
Someone from the War? From the Trial perhaps? Would would know I'm holed up here?!
Bluff: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (3) + 4 = 7
Sense Motive: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (1) + 11 = 12
Intelligence: 1d20 ⇒ 20
Cil |
Sitting in her room above the taproom of the Rusty Tankard, Cil whistled for the job-boy to come up.
When he did, she passes him two rough letters, sealed with candle wax.
Holding one up, "This one goes to Saronis. At the forge."
Holding the other up "This one goes to the sad man, you know, the one I asked you to look in one. Yes , the shrine-man."
Handing the letters to the boy along with a coppper penny, "Go now, be fleet but unseen!" .
She smiled to see the enthusiam the boy had for the task, anything away from the drugdery of the kitchen.
Sar, I've been offered a job. No details yet, but I need you with me on this one. Come to the Tavern this eve, and bring another , someone trustworthy and useful. C.
Falko Denerith,
One dark night , during the riots some years ago, you hid a changeling family , a mother, father and a girl. I am that girl, survived because of your actions that fateful night. Forgive me, but I've been curious about my benefactor's life and know of your current circumstances. I have a proposition for you, I need someone of your character for a task, one I cannot perform alone. Please come to the Dusty Tankard this eve. Yours in gratitude, Cil.
Shalyna Alathreil |
"I think I'll take that option. Where do I find this friend?"
Shalyna does her best to hide the relief in her voice. A little privacy was all she wanted, and the less likely it was someone discovered the mark on her shoulder, the more relaxed she'd be.
Are you sure we can trust this guy?
As much as anyone else, besides, he hasn't asked me to remove the hat yet, that has to count for something.
Sure, if you're an optimist.
What's that supposed to mean?
Oh nothing, nothing at all.
GM Wolf |
"You can find her in the Rusty Tankard. You ask around and she will find you there. Say that old Ben sends his regards and that she still owes me since the last person I sent her way." He says with a bit of a smile forming on his face, then gets back to his other guests.
---
Falko, the small folk seems to keep covered so it would be impossible to really see him let alone remember the few features showing. You think he has been there for a while and likely has been waiting for you rather than just a random person.
Saronis |
Saronis is working late again. He always has enjoyed the heat of the furnace over his bare flat. Though with a knock at the window he sets his project aside and goes over and opens it up. The boy was already nearly gone when the window opened.
He looked out the window to check about what time it was, sure he still had time to finish. He worked a few more hours and set the blade to the side. It just needed to be sharpened and set in the hilt. Now he did not have time to go back to his flat so he washed up as much as he could at the forge. Collected his typical gear and a spare chain shirt, 'just in case.'
He stopped by Rhobannon's lodgings, knowing that he would likely be the best shot of someone not doing something and up for an adventure. With three raps on the door he waits.
Falko d'Deneith |
Left only with questions, Falko keeps walking, ignoring the small man, making his way down the small hallways and stairs, making his way through the Middle Dura district, heading for his home on the edge of Lower Tavick's.
After a few minutes, he takes a smaller street and starts to run, hoping not only to lose his tracker, but also to turn the tables and follow him instead.
Shalyna Alathreil |
"Thank you and I'll tell her."
With a lead on where to find a place to rest, Shalyna heads off to find the Rusty Tankard.
That girl I met right after I had run away said something about finding her at the Rusty Tankard. What was her name? Til? Vil?
If this is the same person, I'll never mention the porridge incident ever again.
Don't promise things you can't deliver.
Who says I can't deliver? Besides, that was a thing of beauty it was. I'll never know how one bowl of porridge caused that huge mess. It was glorious!
Shalyna sighs as she looks for someone to get directions from.
Saronis |
"Come Rhobannon, I will introduce you to one of my friends and perhaps more shall come of this meeting. It seems some adventuring might yet be in our future again. Please bring your 'glassware' as well, just in case." Saronis says to his old army buddy and waits where ever Rhobannon wants him to be or go with Rhobannon if he chooses to leave behind anything extra.
Rhobannon |
"Hmm, interesting. I hadn't imagined stepping out as such so soon, but I guess anytime can be a good time and the best times are unexpected. I'll pack up my stuff, need to leave a note for the landlord as well in case we don't return anytime soon."
"I'll just pack a bug-out bag, the bars aren't far and I don't want to haul my things around all night."
Rhobannon packs his belongings, what is on his sheet, anyway... and sets them in a sack near the door. He pens a hasty note to the landlord and leaves it on a table with some gold coins. This isn't the first time he has left unexpectedly and in a hurry, so the landlord would know where to look when his attempts to collect rent were not fruitful and he had to unlock the door with the master key.
Hurin, If you are reading this, I have left unexpectedly once more. You will find enclosed four months' worth of rent. If I am gone longer than that, please pack my things and hold them an additional two months. Should I return by then, I will pay you accordingly. If not, sell my things to settle my debt. -Rhobannon.
Saronis |
"Right, just a simple prepared bag, if I know Cil trouble may not be following to far behind. I just want you to be prepared if the night goes awry." Saronis says still in his happy demeanor as if the whole thing is just a joke. Though their is a bit of chainshirt armor sticking out of his work bag which holds his personal tools. His elven court blade sitting in the sheath on his bag as always.
GM Wolf |
Gather info for Shalyna DC 10: 1d20 ⇒ 1 hours spent: 1d4 ⇒ 1
Gather info for Shalyna: 1d20 ⇒ 8 hours spent: 1d4 ⇒ 1
A bit more than two hours later and Shalyna finds herself in front of the Rusty Tankard. A duo of males is right in front of you. Saronis and Rhobannon.
---
Falko you do indeed turn the tables on the small fellow. You follow him here and there. It seems he is checking in with others. Though the courier that Cil sent to find you can't as you are following this man.
Saronis |
The obvious elf, of the two ahead of you Shalyna, heading to the Rusty Tankard appears an imposing figure being six feet tall, his lithe and strong body seems bulkier than that of his kin.
His coppery red hair is kept short and he wears a dull grey artisan's outfit. A simple silver band around his neck is his only adornment besides his belt with a few glowing yellow sun stones. He carries a heavy bag though it looks like it does not encumber him, a bit of chain mail armor is poking out of the flap as a slender blade about five feet long is held to the side with a greatsword scabbard.
Cil |
Cil looks about the Rusty Tankard's upstairs meeting room, satisifed there was wine and chilled water, a couple platters of meat, bread and fruit to satisfy.
Nodding, she notes the cook standing in the doorway, a platter of pastries in his arms. Indicating the side table, she watches as he places the tray then straightens.
"Remember, it'll be Sar and a few others. I don't want them stuck downstairs." Cil says to the man distractedly.
Not really noticing his obsequious departure, Cil rolls her neck and sighs, Well we'll see who shows."
She sits for a few moments in one of the high backed chairs, then impatient beyond measure, strides to one of the windows, slides it open and exits onto the shingled roof.
Ascending to the highest gable she watches the street below, watching the spare evening foot traffic.
She sees a familiar figure approach, Sar, with a friend, familiar as well....could be Rhobannon. Excellent!
Who's this , then she says to herself as the woman approaches....Huh....she looks familiar...
Shalyna Alathreil |
perception: 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (18) - 1 = 17
A woman of average height and in a long, high-collared, black trenchcoat and a black hat walks up to the door of the Rusty Tankard behind the two men, an elf and a human. She carries a heavy pack and a sword nearly as long as she is on her back. Under the hat, feathery, red-tipped hair and a pair of golden eyes can be seen.
Okay, no asking the elf with the creepy tattoos, Shalyna thinks to herself.
Aww, why not, Howl asks, He seem like a nice fellow. I bet he only has three killing sprees to his name!
And you seem to think you have a sense of humor, she thinks wryly.
C'mon. Let me outta of the scabbard on open mike night and I'll kill 'em! Howl snickers in the back of her head, while she wonders if the sword might actually be cursed.
However, there were more pressing matters to deal with, namely finding a place to sleep. Shalyna takes a deep breath and walks up to the next person she sees.
"Excuse me," she asks nervously, her face disappearing deeper into the collar of her coat, "I'm looking for a lady that can help me find a place to sleep tonight? Do you know where she is?"
GM Wolf |
The scruffy looking halfling at the door seems a bit out of place, especially with all the daggers secured to all his loose clothing. He nods at the elf and the man that walk up. Then responds rather excitedly to Shalyna, "Yap! You be looking for Cil, me name is Rook." He opens his hand palm up, like he is expecting to get paid. His flashing white smile shows exaggerated canines, he speaks up again before you have a chance to do anything his words quickly coming out, "You seem to be an interesting one and fine at that, you could bed down at my place for no charge."
Saronis |
"Hey Rook, will we see you up there later," Saronis asks the halfling as they walk up to the entrance of the Rusty Tankard. With Rook's nod, he smiles and pats the halfling on the shoulder before entering into the bar.
Not dallying around he looks around for Cil. Likely one of the wait staff sees Saronis as he is known to the staff and tells him that Cil is upstairs in the meeting room.
Without a quick nod and a smile to the lass that helped him, Saronis leads Rhobannon up the stairs and to the meeting room. He walks in with his smirk of a smile on his face and arms wide open, "Hey Cil good to see you, how long has it been?"
Falko d'Deneith |
Perception: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (20) + 8 = 28
"My help for what?" asks Falko with a great hint of suspicion in his voice. "What brotherhood are you a part of, and what's this talk of omen?"
Falko remains with the small man until he answers. "You can just start with your name..."
Once his conversation is over...
Falko climbs the stair to the Rusty Tankard. He feels his old frame complain with every step upward, but pride pushes him on, and he refuses to hold on to the railing.
Once inside, he takes a long look around. He doesn't know the place. He doesn't know anyone.
Yet, that girl is probably the only person left in Sharn who thinks I'm a good person...
He looks for the elf and the shifter the small man had talked about.
Sharea |
Sharea shut the door silently as she entered her apartment. She felt like slamming it, she forced herself to keep quiet. She felt terrible but she knew she did that to herself. She looked on the floor whether there was a letter from her sister slid through the door, but it was empty. She put down the little crate she was carrying and looking inside it cheered her up a little. Wine. From home. From Mister Summers wine farm in Wyr. It was good wine, but not particularly valuable wine, a few silver pieces for a wine of similar quality in the shops of Sharn.
Yet it was a piece of home, so she had imported it via skyship. Not smuggled but perfectly legal, she actually paid all the import taxes, which exceeded the price of skyship transport by far.
Now she only had to find someone to drink it with.
It was a beautiful day to, the sun was shining through the light gaps into the towers of Sharn. Kids were playing in the streets and greeted her as she passed by. I should get myself some of those. she thought, not for the first time. And for a moment she allowed herself to dream of a simple life, with a husband and kids and unimportant but not disrespected position in house Lyrandar. A life like that of her neighbours, a friendly lot.
When the thought faded she realized what she had done without thinking about it. Taken her jewellery off and put it in her backpack, removed the garter belt and silk stockings under her dress and replaced them with short suede pants, replaced her elegant shoes with smooth suede boots, checked the remarkable dagger she found at a bazaar in the depth, elegant, handy, well weighed and yet so distinctly fake-elven that it could not be more authentic half-elven craft. Her scroll case was in place hooked into subtle slope in the side of her dress - she hated wearing belts and the magic ring in her left hand's index finger.
And suddenly, when she looked in the mirror and applied the fantastic markings she liked so much in with a coal stick, she felt real again and the woman in the mirror responded with a smile. Goodbye, arcane academy employee Sharea and hello sorceress Sharea. In a flight of vanity she added the d'Lyrandar mentally to the thought.
A smoky jazz club in an area of the city where the White Lady would be recognized would do her good right now and she wondered how Cil was doing.
Rhobannon |
Rhobannon climbs the stairs behind Saronis and takes a seat at the table he did. He offered a simple greeting to Cil, whom he knew in passing. He was a tall man, clearly a man of hard labor. Loose black hair and trimmed beard in a style popular among warriors, face darkened by that last bit of soot that just can't be scrubbed off. Aside from the obvious prosthetic, high-quality as it was, he appeared to be any other Brelish mercenary or adventurer. His clothes were somewhat tighter than the typical Brelish fashion, conveying the attire of one whose work is hindered by billowy clothing and similarly doesn't venture to the low side of Sharn much. Morningstar, crossbow, breastplate... marks of an off-duty guard; but lacking in a badge of office, it was clear he held no such affiliations and wore the items to cultivate a personal space around him that others rarely dared intrude. As Brelish as his attire looked, he lacked the loquacious attitude common among the locals.
His eyes scanned the table for wine, looking to start his night with the chilled variety. He reaches a heavy metal hand over to grab the jug of wine, pouring himself a glass.
"I see several extra chairs... planning something big, or just a big party?" he asks, a thin smile crossing his face. The thought of wine had loosened up his normally bland demeanor.
Cil |
Caught half-in , half-out of the window by Saronis' and Rhobannon's arrival, Cil fluidly enters as if she entered rooms by windows everyday.
"Hi Sar, Rhobannon, thanks for coming." she says, pulling a wayward strand of hair away from her face, "Well, the fates will bring what they will, at least I've got you two."
She motions, encouraging the two to take what they will of the fare on the table.
She sits herself, grabs some grapes and nibbles nervously...
Shalyna Alathreil |
"Um, th-thanks for the offer, but I think I'll just talk to Cil. Do you know where I can find her?"
Shalyna doesn't move a muscle, but she still gives off the impression of squirming on the spot.
If this needs to speed up, let me know. Shalyna's naive about the outside world, despite being on the run for the past several months, so I don't think she'll understand the concept that information is worth gold just yet.
GM Wolf |
"You have helped changelings and other shapeshifters before? Right? We know that a faction of shifters plan to eliminate as many changelings and lycanthropes soon. On the 13th month, the eve of death comes upon us. This group of shifters believe wiping out the others will give them the power of the dark mark. My name is Baric Nodlec, a wererat, I am here to protect Cil. The Travelor spoke to me to get you here and told me that Cil is important. Praise the Travelor!" He says, he seems to be live what he says but as a same person. He does not give off the signs of a crazy person and with closer inspection looks like he might have some favor with a noble family or well off merchant family considering his fine clothes under his cloak.
Rook looks at the covered female before him a bit more then shrugs. "Your loss babe, two silver and the location of Cil is yours. Coin makes the world move ya know?" he says nonchalantly still holding up his palm.
A quick rap at Sharea's door and a letter does get slipped under the door.
White Lady,
It is time to have some fun!
We will hunt you this night!
Go hide yourself and we will find!
Please bring more players so we can have more blood!
Soon your tender flesh will be in our grasp!
Don't spoil the surprise and don't go to the Rusty Tankard tonight!
Yours always,
Your shifting admirers!
Saronis |
Saronis looks a bit hurt without her giving him a hug. He goes over and puts his backpack on the floor. He sits at one of the tables pouring himself a glass of wine and focuses on it for a minute. Then he grabs a plate filling it with a bit of every option. Snacking on that plate he finishes his first glass and pours himself a second. By the second glass he has forgotten about the slight and wonders who else will join them. He lets Cil mull in her emotions as he asks Rhobannon about life, "Well what have you planned so far? Sticking around here for a set amount of time? Got any love interests yet?"
Sharea |
When Sharea read the first lines she blinked twice. First she thought it was a threat. A took her a moment that it was actually an invitation. It was a bit silly to play catch as a grown up woman to engage in something like this, especially for a member of a Dragonmarked House. But! If she were that grown up she would not have used this masquerade after all.
Where was she supposed to find someone who would play along with this? The note said she was supposed to bring friends. Well, there were a few adventurous types among the academy students. Pretty lasses, but not too pretty, Sharea liked to stand out after all. A little gang of two humans (faculty: evocation and summoning) and a gnome illusionist. They would not do their home work anyway, so she might as well ask them to come along for the ride.
And the her own illusion capabilities added to that of a gnome illusionist would sure make it interesting.
She packed in extra bottle of wine in case she needed a bribe and left for the dormitories of the academy.
On the way she was thinking about where she should hide and whether she should leave some clues to make it not too difficult. The city was pretty big. Something spooky and intense, probably. A graveyard? An old section torn by war? An industry ruin or an abandoned slaughterhouse?
Finally she reached the the dormitories, went down (pretty dirty and graffity covered) tunnels and passed by the students with a business-like demeanor. When she finally reached the room she was looking for she knocked and put on a more friendly face. "Hi! Don't worry, you're not in trouble, unless you want to. The professor did not send me, I am here on my own... and don't call me Miss You-know-who, I am the White Lady. May I come in?" She waved with the letter.
GM Wolf |
Deven Crownick looked at the 'invitation' and seemed a bit concerned, "You sure about this? Even if it is a party do you know who the shifters are?"
Before Sharea could say anything Marilla 'Rose' Thronthistle sighed at Deven's concern, "You stick in the mud, it has to be better than just sticking around the dorms! White Lady you lead and I will pull Deven along behind me. Anything we need to bring? It could be hard to get Gelleanious to come along unless you offer him to use his tricks there." She finishes with a wink knowing that she just told Sharea the gnomes secret. She pulled on black fingerless gloves and her crystal dagger into the sheath on her knee high black leather boots. Her short purple skirt showing lots of leg as her black leather corset revealed plenty of cleavage. Deven in his dark blue robes, nothing out of the ordinary for a wizard.
Rhobannon |
"No, nothing set in stone. Just making some coin the best way I can, staving off boredom with new projects one after another. Might take an extended trip to Karrnath or Zilargo once more. One of these days." Rhobannon grabs food, careful to leave some for any late-comers, before emptying his glass and filling another.
Sharea |
Sharea smirks.
"I am not sure about this, that's what makes it fun. I am counting on Gelleanious, without your capabilities to fool our hunters and to put on quite a show. I want it to be spooky. If we work together we can make a really convincing illusion and create a bit of a labyrinth along with the actual, existing environment. Maybe even summon something into it, just not anything actually dangerous. Did I mention I brought three bottles of wine I just imported from Aundair? Not sure whether it will be enough, though."
She thought for a moment.
"... what you should bring. Paper and ink for clues if they need a little help. Well, make sure you got your spell components. A blanket or two would not be bad and it's definitely a good choice to bring your dagger. Staffs or so would not be bad, either. We have to get relatively deep down to make it interesting. And you Rose..." Sharea liked the little brat. "Depending how badly you want to be caught... no, I will check by the little alchemy shop myself." She rather wanted to get contraception potions from an alchemist she trusted. The way Rose was dressed up it appeared that at least one of them might need it.
"Don't worry Deven. We have to be a bit careful, but I am sure it's going to be fun. True magic is out there! Consider this a study at what magic truly means. I don't know every single one of them, but I know the writer of this letter." Unless it was actually a trap, of course. But she did not like to even think about that right now. "You're going to like her."
Shalyna Alathreil |
After paying Rook and finding out where she was supposed to go, Shalyna finds the stairs.
"Coins make the world move?" What's that supposed to mean? She wonders as she climbs.
I dunno, but he seemed mighty interested in you, Howl answers, or doesn't, rather.
I noticed. It was making me feel uncomfortable. Well, we're here. Maybe we can find a place to sleep now.
Shalyna knocks on the door on the second floor. Her parents may have neglected to teach her about the world beyond her home, but etiquette had almost been literally beaten into her.
Falko d'Deneith |
Falko frowns at the small man, his hand rising to his chin absentmindedly to scratch his wild grey beard. "You know a lot about me... Do you also know I'm no hero to the Realm?
And you say you're a shifter... I thought the Thranes had slaughtered them all. How many can there be left?!"
He thinks a bit further and adds, defiant and dismissive: "And why would I help you!?"
I'm a little lost. Did I receive or read an invitation to the party? If so, from whom?
GM Wolf |
A boy was sent to get you an invitation but it is at your house. Where you have not been yet. So you don't have it yet.
"No Lycanthrope! Not many of us are left especially since we are being hunted down by the cultish group of shifters. I know there is little reason that you might help us, but the Travelor sent me in your direction and I am sure you will protect her, Cil." He gets a bit hot tempered being called a shifter though he steadies himself to tell you what he knows. Defiantly he adds, "Honestly I don't know why the Travelor would have be search you out but it has been done and you may go which ever way you choose. I have a job to do and if you are not going to help then just go home."
Saronis |
Saronis sips on his second glass of wine as the knock on the door comes. He looks over at Cil and simply says, "This is your show, you best go greet your next guest."
He nods at Rhobannon and responds to his remarks, "Ah as I had thought, nothing has changed, I would like to travel again but unless my luck changes I will be here quite a while unless I travel by hoof."
Cil |
Cil was so preoccupied with her own thoughts, she didn't even notice the look of momentary hurt when she didn't greet him as affectionately as usual.
Looking out the window, her thoughts race Why am I doing this? The money? The excitement? When it was just me , or me and Rook, the risks were mine. Now I'm getting a friend and others involved....
At the knock , her head comes up and she smiles at Saronis' statement, "Yeah, my show..." she says softly with a ghost of a smile.
Crossing the room, knowing that no-one would be knocking if Rook hadn't sent them, she opens the door....
to see a familiar face, the one from the street, but she couldn't quite place it...
She smiles and says "I know you, but you'll have to refresh my memory."
Falko d'Deneith |
Falko swears under his breath at his blunders with races: "Ok, ok, sorry about my confusion. I haven't seen Cil in a long time, but I do remember her."
And I remember that night of horror!
"Tell me your name. And tell me what you want me to do, and I'll help."
He shrugs, thinking: The Traveler! He's messed my life enough... Perhaps it's an answer to my prayers?
Shalyna Alathreil |
When she sees the woman's face, recognition lights up Shalyna's eyes, almost literally.
"Um, yes, we met several months ago. My name is Shalyna, and yours is Nil, right? Old Ben sent me and said something about you owing him for the last person he sent your way." The young woman's voice wavers nervously as she reintroduces herself.
GM Wolf |
Sharea you have collected your minions thinking it is a party. Your group had moved into an abandoned butcher shop. A few spells are put in place to set the mood, they begin to sample the wine you brought and the. You headed out to set some clues for the others to find you. Once you return about 10 minutes later you know something is wrong. The spells are no longer in place, you see scorch marks and acid splashes. Also there are a few blood stains here and there. In the door is a spear, it has been rammed through. You open the door to find Devin impaled by the spear. He is dead but his body has been cut with many claw marks and slashes. Going into the meat locker you are aghast at the bloody sight. The gnome has been pulled apart and his body parts hang on the meat hooks. She is dead as well but you only recognize her from the discarded clothes off to the side and her voice. The animated voice of a spell when you arrived, "Your shifters present their gifts of fear and violence, the white ladies shall be dead this night."
You realize it truely is a threat and you run! To the only place that was set in your mind, to the Rusty Tankard and Cil.
Cil |
Cil's lips twitch into a little smile, "It's Cil, but you were close enough."
She cocks her head to one side, "Old Ben can come collect himself, if he's man enough!" she says with a laugh, then her eyes narrow on Shalyna and she crosses her arms, "What brings you here, Shalyna. I really didn't expect to see you again after so long. " her eyes briefly scan Shalyna up and down, pausing on the black sword at her hip, then back up to meet her gaze directly.
Shalyna Alathreil |
"Oh, sorry," she says when she learns that she'd gotten the name wrong, her head going further into the collar of the coat she wears.
"I've just been going this direction and found myself here in time for every inn to be full," Shalyna answers sheepishly, "I j-just need a place to sleep. I didn't know you were having a party or something."
The young woman peeks up from under the hat, the same hat she had worn when she had met Cil, and wrings her hands as she stands there quietly.
Cil |
"Well, if Chronepsis has brought you here at this fortuitous time, so be it." Cil says softly, stepping out of Shalyna's way, indicating she should enter.
"Sar, pull a chair out for Shalyna, she'll be joining us." Cil calls out in false cheerfulness.
She grabs a grape as she walks past the table, then leans against the window frame, nibbling, looking out pensively into the gathering gloom.
Shalyna Alathreil |
"Oh, um, thanks," Shalyna says before entering and taking her seat. She looks at the others nervously for a moment. Her eyes soon focus on a spot a few inches in front of her on the table. A moment later, however, her stomach growls, reminding her that she hadn't eaten anything for most of the day.
Just curious, how does one nibble a grape?
GM Wolf |
"She is in the Rusty Tankard, the inn just over there." He says as he points to the inn then continues in his gravelly voice, "I knew you were following me, easier that way and I brought your attention here for a reason. Rook is at the front door, ask where Cil is and hand him a few silver for his troubles. He is a brother of mine in this bloody venture."
To nibble on a grape or anything for that matter, to me that is, would be to take very small bites out of the substance.
Saronis |
"Welcome Shayla, come have a seat over here! I won't bite unless you want me too." The elf laughs at his own jest as he pulls out a chair next to him. In his carefree voice he offers hospitality, "Come take off that cloak of travel and eat and drink with us." He has one hand pointing to the food and drink laid out on the tables and the other open to help her out of the cloak.
Falko d'Deneith |
Falko nods at the small man and turns to take a better look at the inn as he thinks to himself.
Well Falko, you wanted a sign...
He reaches for three pieces of silver and walks over to the doorman: "Hello Rook. Here's a few shiny to buy you a drink. I'm here to see Cil..." and he waits patiently for destiny to open the door for him.