Matt smiles a sharp tight smile; "Exactly my lady, you have to progress by learning your limitations within a restrictive environ. Then you analyse the performance learn the rules and learn how to manipulate those, so that you can be victorious. As it is in game theory, as life."
With a bow of his head; "If you wish to forfeit the game so be it, but you fail to capitalise on an opportunity to learn more. Both about yourself, me and others."
A dismissive gesture of his hand; "Goodbye, 'til the 'morrow. You are correct, the b*tch does drive the melody - though that does not make it her own."
He places his hand on the table it slightly shakes with barely controlled emotions. 'Oh what an infuriating woman. Aggrivating, Agressive, Annoying, Fiery, Passionate, Eloquent, Beautiful. How does she irritate me so easily, now to repair the damage with the others.' Taking a deep breath, Matt focuses upon his core. The emotional fire in his chest burns, but he uses this energy as a centre. Revitalising his body, with a start he opens his eyes and looks around the room.
"I have cards if anyone wants to play? Sorry for that... scene. Or we can have a song, I am sure there is some beer and my instrument is tuned." Matt states with a friendly smile.
After quitting the galley, Alika returns to the small cabin she shares with Magnur. Finding it empty, she takes the opportunity to close the door to a crack, and undresses behind it, handling her embroidered silks with the utmost delicacy and care. When no intruder proves forthcoming, she spends several minutes and makes the signs and speaks the words of in the language of the Ancients, mocking as she transmute the smell of salt to something far more pleasant, jasmine, with the slightest hint of vanilla, and weaves the scent into her bunk as well. She crosses the room and hangs her dress bindings on one of the hooks provided, and takes a large breath.
In Galt, it had been suggested to Alika on several occasions that her lack of appetite had contributed to her slight stature, with regards to her modest bust and slender curves. Galtian women typically resembled their livestock, obese sows with teets hanging passed their knees. Alika understood that a great many men preferred their women... soft. The corner of Alika's mouth turns up in a sly smile as she lets her dagger dance through her fingers again, then taps her cheek with the flat of the blade before stowing it beneath her pillow.
Alika reclines on the bunk, and spends several moments acclimating herself to the roll of the sea beneath the ship before she finds her center.
The king is unimportant until he falls? Alika snorts with dark amusement. No student of history would ever utter such a ridiculous statement. Even in defeat, a king remains a symbol, and a much more powerful one at that. If ever a victorious king stood upon the good opinion of his people, a defeated one would earn their sympathy and love, and, if he were cunning, their love.
A bishop plain, Alika assesses and hums softly as she allows her legs to relax. Her fingers drum silently on the bare flesh of her arms as she allows her mind to carry her elsewhere. To the fantasies authorized by the bard King Irovetti of Pitax. Alika's lips part and she touches her cheek, vaguely aroused. Certainly not at the wanton display the loathsome creature had made of his rule, but the very idea. His state authorized literature was brilliant, each novel casting himself as the lusty hero surviving the labyrinthine plots of hollow aggressors.
A prince crushing mud dolls with a glance, while the king f*cks with whores in the streets. Brilliant!
A king is unimportant until he falls...
Alika laughs softly and allows her mind to wander again, eyes closed, breathing regular but very much awake.
Mangur knocks lightly on the door, not sure if Alika is still awake or not.
"Sorry for the intrusion. Just preparing for bed."
He swiftly removes his outerwear and slips onto his bunk.
"Did you have a nice dinner? Sorry I missed out, but the setting sun was too beautiful to miss. Did anything interesting happen?"
Alika's eyes open partially and she smiles softly. "Interesting?" she hums. "Define," she sighs. "Has the thought ever occured to you that though every person speaks Taldane, we can scarcely be said to understand each other? Save for magics," Alika muses, and twists onto her side to look directly at Magnur.
"Spells are universal," she says. Alika yawns and rolls onto her back, slightly upsetting the wig on the top of her head. "If all the world were spell casters... it would tear itself apart."
"Ah, I see we are still playing word games. If that is so, then imagine this. A world without spellcasters. No magic to rely on. The crutch taken from under your arm and forcing you to walk in the world naked. In such a world, what language would draw us all together, or would we need language??"
Mangur smiles and yawns, much at the same time! He watches the exotic woman lounge in her bunk.
Alika laughs, but it is not a pleasant sound. "In that dystopia, whichever animal survived would rise up and destroy the bards, first," Alika replies. "Without even the most benign of magics, food stores will rot, grievous wounds earned in defense of... life, will fester and kill, and plagues would go unchecked.
"For every seductress, necromancer and diabolist there exists the idea that their... very existence is against nature, expressed in literature, in... songs, in tales carried from generation to generation. Those images, false, perhaps, or... even if they were wholly genuine, and supported by evidence which we could determine was not bias in the least... Those images inspire the heroes of the world," Alika continues. "The priest who heals by touch, the druid that diverts flood waters from an impoverished town, and the paladin who with a thought can identify the single greatest threat to mankind."
Alika pulls the wig from her head and sets it down beside her pillow, then uses her fingertips to smooth her hair out. "Magic is a tool. Language... language is the real threat.
"One word. A single... image lent value can lead to the employment of hundreds, and feed thousands more, or it could cause a great fool to rage," Alika laughs softly, and turns her head and smiles at Magnur. "If not language to unite and drive us, then what? Coin?" she jests and laughs again.
Matt walks over to the first mate, (or captain). "Sir, I was wondering if it might be possible for us all to have a few beverages and songs. I would not want to upset you crew, but I would like to toast you vessel, crew and ask for blessings on the journey." The firm but hopeful tone in his voice indicating that any sensible man should agree.
Matt makes sure that some of the crew have a drink along with Gawain and Tristan; walking amongst them, taking requests and being friendly. The he sits down to start playing an upbeat ditty, to get the feet of the men moving.
Throughout the evening Matt makes sure that the crew are happy, but not unable to perform their duties on the morrow. 'First night should be a bonding exercise, get everyone on your side.' Matt drinks little, to keep his sings and mind sharp, although he has a mug next to him. Which he occassionally uses to refill others drinks, making it seem like he is drinking too. As he walks around playing he makes sure he memorises the peoples names, asks of their homelands and listens. To Gawain and Tristan, Matt makes sure that he spends time with, not prying further but listening of Gawains homelands and his valorous deeds. Making sure to get the names and breeds of their animals; seeing how proud both men are of their glorious beasts.
Judging that the general revels reached it's peak and any more will adversily affect the general crew performance on the morrow; Matt plays his final song. Then bids everyone a en-masse goodnight.
Returning to his room he hastily scribbles some of the information gathered on the parchment and places it away in the lock-box. Matt draws out the bottle and extinguishes the light plunging the cabin into darkness. Harshly he has a quick wash in the dark.
'Hopefully the nightmares won't come again tonight.' Matt then unstoppers the bottle of rotgut, downs as much as he can in as short a time and passes out on his bed.
"Ah, coin. The shackles of the unknowing. It has its place, true, as does magic. But picture this. A world ruled by equals, all working towards one goal. No nations, no hidden councils, no puppet master pulling the strings from behind a curtain. Just people. As you said, words can be a fearsome weapon, but only if you let them. It is a great leader who wins wars without fighting.
Alas, this is all a dream. People, being what they are, are always going to try and better themselves first and foremost, no matter who they use to do it. Ware the smiling man, for it is not you money he wants, but control over you!"
Mangur says this last without a trace of a smile on his face, his eyes blank, staring at Alika.
Alika hums softly and rubs at an eye. "So long as there exists the tools of war, men - and women, lest you think that I believe my inferior sex incapable - will use them to create an advantage over each other.
"Take the knight, Gawain. His perception and value upon the word honor excludes many. He... wishes to conscript himself to the expression of the will of another. He desires servitude. And there are many who lack the strength of character required to truly live for themselves. Or... the ability," she concludes softly.
"Six seven, six, four seven three eight, four, three. Maiden head guaranteed by the Bank of Abadar. Bidding opens at five gold."
Alika chuckles weakly and slides her eyes closed.
Mangur looks at the woman in a different light.
"I think you may have given away something there, but it is beside the point. Sometimes we create our own chains, like Sir Gawain. Others have chains thrust upon them. I am no advicate of the slave trade. In my home, we have a whole caste dedicated to the same purpose. Is that any better?"
"And what keeps them there but words?" Alika hums in response.
"A king is unimportant until he falls," she says and laughs derisively.
"Good night, sir," she dismisses finally, yawns, then rolls onto her side, facing the door, tucking her hands up beneath her pillow.
As the passengers begin to awaken, they are greeted with the sound of the ship alive with activity. The early morning duties of the crew are being dispatched with enthusiasm. Some are even heard to be still humming tunes from the prior night's revelries. The springtime sun is up above the horizon and the sweet sea air is mixed with a strong breeze blowing out from the coastline, just in view on the northern horizon. This brings the scents of trees and grass to the salty spray of the water.
Gawain awakens when the crew does, stretches and then rises, pulling on his shirt and walking up onto the deck to look at the scenery and breathe in the morning breeze of seasalt. He smiles a little, then goes down into the hold to check on Brecker and make sure the majestic warhorse was being treated well by the crew. He pats the horse's flank comfortingly and strokes his mane then goes back up onto the deck to try and assist the crew's morning activities however he can.
Gawain: Brecker is doing well, and seems to be in good spirits. You see his hay has already been freshly changed. As you come up on deck and try to find things to assist with, you are politely refused by the crew. You can see they are operating as a well coordinated team and you realize that you would be more in the way than helpful.
Waking shortly after sunup, Mangur rises, washes and heads to the galley for a quick breakfast. Once finished he goes up on deck, where he keeps out of the way of the crew, sitting in the sun and enjoying the warmth and fresh air.
Matt wakes looks across to the other bunk, finding it empty. 'Ah, my head hurts, but at least I cannot remember the nightmares.' Another day starts, Matt checking the cabin door cleanses himself then moves upon the deck. The sun is well above the horizon; finding out breakfast has already been completed Matt sits back upon the upper-deck out of the way of the crew.
Looking across the roiling sea, he thinks and tries to come up with another song. Basically wasting his time, he looks across to Mangur. 'He is an interesting individual, I need to know him better. But not in this state.'
With no particular inducement to rise, Alika remains abed whilst Magnur attends his toilet. Lying on her stomach there is very little indication of whether or not she sleeps, she recognized early in life. The position was hardly optimal for defending herself, she was sure, but very few were coarse enough to challenge the popular assumption.
Very few.
Shutting her eyes, Alika floats on the edge of consciousness for what seems several hours more, visualizing the latest score she was invited to adjudicate, and casting her fellow passengers according to their mein.
Gawain was the bass, oft overlooked by the casual observer, til given license to rage. Alika pictured the savage atop his horse, amidst a sea of glittering snow. His was a visage women would tremble to picture between their thighs, and men... men would envy, but were like to follow, perchance to achieve a modicum of his glory.
Magnur was a lesser violin. His tone lifted and supported the others, but ultimately provided only harmony. Alika smiled softly as the bow shifted in her mind, indelible.
Matt was a piccolo, the nasal alarm of the orchestra. His report was heard above the voices of the others, but his performance was rarely remembered as anything of note. A diversion could not have been more welcome.
Leaving Tristan...
Alika sighs and lifts herself on her weak arms, causing her shift to gape over her bust, exposing the brand on her left breast, and worse, further along her body. Growling, Alika settles into a kneeling position, steeples her fingers and touches them to her forehead.
Wadjet, blessed Mother, let your waters wash o'er and through me. Take my pain, and let it become as silt to sustain Your spirits.
Alika dresses with the utmost care, attending to the precise application of pressure with the silk wraps that define her narrow waist and accentuate her lack of bust and slight shoulders. Dainty, feminine, and approachable.
Stepping onto the deck, Alika finds Gawain alone, looking terribly vexed with his inactivity.
"Care to walk with me a ways, Sir?" Alika asks, sparing him a soft smile. "The inducement is slim, but with so little to occupy ourselves, certainly strolling in silence is preferable to standing, no?"
Gawain starts and looks down at the slim woman, Alika, asking him to take a walk with her. True to his knightly vows of chivalry, Gawain accepts, first giving her a deep bow at the waist and offering his arm, not as a symbol of compassion or personal affection, it was expected of his moral creed to allow a woman accompanying him to have his arm to hold as they walked. It was an entirely male thing to do, but Gawain had seen his father do it whenever he entertained one of his wife's ladies in waiting, visiting noble's wives and such, all with the purest of intentions, so he sought to emulate the proud Linnorm's horseman and made the gesture.
He walks with her, enjoying the calm that was so surrounding on the open sea. His months on board the deck of a ship had hardened his ears to the curses of the crew as they worked even the most enjoyable or menial of tasks. He looks out over the waves reflectively, then says to Alika, still staring out at the waters, "If I may, milady Alika, tell me of your homeland. I have only ever seen the forests and plains of Andoran, or the icy wastes of Linnorm. In truth, I never expected the world to be so vast after all my years in my village."
"My homeland?" Alika repeats. "I scarcely recall. I was... removed when I was very young. All that remains is impressions," she says truthfully, and laughs softly, "like the illusion of water created when the southern sun radiates off the scalding sand."
Alika is quiet for a time. "Are your people far enough north to be familiar with the borealis?" she inquires.
Gawain blinks in surprise at the question and he glances down at the woman. He searches his brain for any linkage to the word but only finds one he doubts could be what she was talking about. "The only way I have heard that name or word mentioned milady, is when I spoke with the Giant Folk when we were not doing battle with them. Something about Ice and Snow, I always assumed they were talking about their own breed, Frost Giants, either that or large ice monsters I have yet to encounter." He shrugs.
"I am sorry, I know not what the Borealis is to be truthful. We are very Northern, it is true, but I've scarcely come across that word before." Next to this woman, Gawain couldn't help feeling a little slow in the head, but then again his focus in life was along teh edge of his sword, not the innermost battles of thought and memory. Then again, he did get hit in the head alot...
"It is sung that the light of the very spheres dances upon the snows," Alika replies, her voice following an unknown melody. Not exceedingly well, Alika recalls, and smiles softly. "But then, I was also told that a frost giant's piss froze mid stream and he could wield it like a club and crush a man's skull," she says and laughs. "I gather that was a slight exaggeration."
Feeling less hung-over Matt rises gliding over toward Mangur. Keeping out of the sun so as not to cast a shadow across him Matt moves to sit beside Mangur.
"Missed you at the revel last night. But that was probably sensible elsewise you would be feeling as rough as I. I hope you don't mind a bit of company?" Matt asks.
Mangur opens his eyes and smiles up at the elf. "I would enjoy some company. Please come and sit with me. I am sorry I missed out on the gathering last night."
Mangur looks the elf over while they are sitting together.
"Thanks," Matt says warmly "it seems like the crew carouses every night so you still have chance to catch up."
Sitting down so his back is against the rail, "You, like I, have travellied extensively I take it. Do you have a wife, or family?"
There is a slight tone of melancholy in his words.
"I have travelled the Inner Sea quite a bit, as well as the journey for my homeland. I left my family to come here and explore. I am not married, and have no children. What about yourself. What brings you to this ship?"
Matt pauses thoughtfully; "No family; it's quite strange to wander the lands no real ties holding you in place. Most of my family are gone. As for why I travel on this particular ship, well an old friend..." his voice trails off sadly.
Mangur looks at the sad elf and wonders what trama in his life resulted in his coming on this voyage.
"So who was this old friend? Why did he wish you to take his place? Was this some form of debt transfer? Sorry to ask so many questions, I am just a curious person in general."
Gawain pauses at her laugh and he chuckles as well, heartily, and he gives the woman a more appreciating eye for her sense of humor. "I've never heard of that expression before." he laughs and stares back out over the waves as if contemplating if a giant would actually do such a thing then shakes his head and grins down at her again. "In any case, I may have seen the Rivers of Light in the skies when Winter came to my lands, as if it didn't seem to be there year-round. They are quite breath-taking."
Alika gives a nod of her head at Gawain's merriment. "I had not thought that a noble warrior such as yourself might. I learnt it from a ranger my... employer hired to deliver a brief on the raiders in northern Varisia. As I said yesterday, quite a bit of our stock was pilfered from the area, and though I found no particular worry that it did not reach its destination in Korvosa," Alika hisses the name of the location, "my employer did not care for my opinion. Profit was to be made from the young queen's lust for exotic silks.
"The increased security, however, I am certain benefited many along the route, and was not limited to the families of the caravans and the guards and scouts."
Matt looks away at the eternal ocean. 'I should not have said so much but... I shall not disrespect them.'
"An old friend of mine, I have known him since school. For me it's just a blink of eye, now he is old and frail. Sometimes I despair to see how weak humans can become in such a short space of time."
Matt grins as a childhood memory of a long summers day spent in the library whilst the other kids played outside. The warm light passing through the 'Great Window of Iomedae', the lack of taunts and jibes for his fellows and the teachers.
"But you humans' are so capable of great things, such bursts of emotion and action thoughless of the consequences. Sometimes I think it would be best to burn out in a burst of glory then fade away to the inevitable ignoble end." the self-deprication masks a painful emotion.
Pausing, he continues..."Mangur what do you dream of? How do humans sleep at night when Dresna plagues there beings with thoughts, feelings, emotions?"
The rest of the journey passes quietly. Everyone falls into the rhythms of the ship. Each night you enjoy the lively revelry of the crew and the next morning awaken refreshed. The journey affords time for each of the passengers to become more comfortable with each other.
Late in the afternoon on the third day of you journey you can now clearly make out the grey mass of land on the horizon before you. While you had realized that the number of boats you have been passing has grown steadily, now you can see a vast forest of masts and sales laid out before you. A steady stream of vessels are heading from, what appears to be, the mouth of a large river. Many more are, however, sitting still or moving slowly toward the shore. Apparently queueing up in order to gain entrance. Your ship doesn’t fall in line with the rest and instead glides quickly past them toward a much smaller group of ships to the right of the main mass. These ships seem to be hurried along by several other boats into a smaller harbor off from the larger bay at the rivers mouth.
This is... irregular, Alika's mind seethes as she watches their ship part from the bulk of the fleet assembled. She lifts her skirts between her fingertips and moves confidently to the captain.
"Sir, pray pardon my intrusion at this desperate hour, but might I inquire what your orders were in regards to the destination of this vessel upon arrival in Cassomir?"
The captain turns to Alika, seemingly only half hearing the question. "Eh, oh. I'm to deliver you to the dock in Cassomir. Now if you will excuse me."
As the ship approaches the shore, you can see the larger group of ships you had passed are being met by a cast of medium sized boats with the official crest of Taldor upon their sails and banners. As you pass by, you can see groups of uniformed officials boarding each ship. You see other ships, further down the line, having some of their cargo transferred to the Taldoran vessels.
As Golmera’s Wings turns to the east, your come upon a harbor surrounded by high walls rising from cliffs on either side of the bay. Before the walls and just outside of the harbor sits a lighthouse. The stout stone tower is wide at the base and tapers up to a huge, flame shaped shaped object that glows brightly, even in the late afternoon sun. As you pass the lighthouse on your left, to the right is a series of rocky outcroppings forming a natural jetty. These have been built over with makeshift buildings and walkways. You can see many people milling about on the seeming unsteady structures.
Beyond the lighthouse, the city walls are topped with many towers, some taller than the lighthouse itself. Including three immense towers just behind the lighthouse, on the corner of the wall, overlooking the inlet into the harbor. Across the inlet, on the south bank, a impressive castle overlooks the whole of the river and the harbor. It’s towering wall rising from the hill upon which it sits. Here the ships stops, just outside the harbor, in the middle of the channel. An official looking boat, smaller cousin of the ones in the bay, glides up along side. The crew throw lines over to awaiting sailors on the other ship.
A well dressed pair of gentlemen step across a gangplank laid between the ships. The captain approaches them cordially and hands them a bundle of documents as he makes his formal greetings. The men quickly sort through the documents and confer with the captain for a few minutes. They then nod to each other, shake the captain’s hand and return across the plank to their ship. They quickly throw back the lines and the captain calls for the crew to move ahead.
As the ship continues into the harbor you see, stretched along the eastern shore, a huge shipworks operation. Dozens of ships sit, at different stages of construction, in the docks. Even this late in the afternoon and at this distance you see hundreds of people are swarming all over. You see many more ships sitting in the harbor. Anchored there awaiting their turn at the section of the docs used for loading and unloading. The city appears to wrap itself around the harbor to either side of the enormous docks.
Golmera’s Wings comes to a stop on the northern side of the harbor, several hundred feet from the docks. Captian Conrow approaches the group ”It will be a while before our turn to unload. I’ll have a boat put down to take you to shore. We’ll see to your horse and any gear the rest of you would like to leave for now.” Then, without waiting on an answer, the captain turns and starts yelling at a group of crewmen to prepare a boat.
Alika, who had eaten nothing the last day in preparation for this event simply nods. Her complexion appears slightly faint, and she closes her eyes for long periods of time, apparently to steady herself.
As the small boat pulls up to the lower docks, you can see the bustle of activity as other ships are being unloaded and restocked all around you. The docks themselves tower well above your head. You see a mash of pillars, ladders, and different levels of dock piled one on top of another. You have to climb several sets of stairs just to get from the lower docks where you were unloaded to the level of the streets heading away from the docks into the town proper. Here you see a stream of carts and waggons heading to and fro. Similar to the docks in Almas when you departed, but somehow more cramped, less spread out. Here it seems that everyone is always directly on top of someone else. You head out from the dock area to the main road that runs north and south between the two areas of town.
Alika spends several moments identifying what manner of cargo is being led in which direction, specifically seeking where shipments of textiles would be taken.
Assistance is not employment, Alika muses.
"The voyage, particularly the landing has been most pleasant," Alika says pleasantly. She points in the direction a wagon loaded with bolts of what appears to be silk is bound. "My destination lies yon," she says. "Enjoy your stay."
Perception
Tristen makes his way off the boat looking a slight shade of green. It seems the young man had run into some bad seasickness and shut himself inside his cabin to the annoyance of Adler. As his steps off the gangplanks he seems quite relieved and takes in a deep breath trying to steady himself before shrugging his pack into a more comfortable position about his shoulders.
Suddenly a scream splits the air and Adler comes shooting down from the sky, suddenly he snaps his wings out and barely manages to slow himself to catch the young man's arm as if in joy of seeing him once more.
Tristen smiles still slightly pale and green and strokes the feather's of Adler's head before scanning around looking for his ship companions.
He supposed he should try and find the man who had sent the letter to Tomas but curiosity made him pick out the foreign woman and make his way over to her and the rest.
Sense Motive
However it just seemed as he got there she wandered off after some cart packed with goods. Tristen put it into the back of his mind as he regards the others.
"So...what did I miss?"
Mangur looks out over the bustling sea of people and smiles. Ahh, now this is more like it! he thinks as he moves into the throngs of people, taking in all that is going on around him.
He watch as the Osirion woman leaves, saying something about a silk order.
He shakes his head, and waves to the complex young lady, then heads off into the mass of humanity the surrounds the docks, looking for information about the odd wooden crest he was given
The rest of the journey had relaxed Matt too much, he said too much to some of the others. A nervous energy took him as they started to reach their destination, this turned into a burning anxiousness as they reached the port. 'This is too many vessels to be usual, unless they have had a back-log. But something bigger is going on.'
Watching the uniformed Taldoran officials purchase/ take/ confiscate the cargo from the other vessels, peaks Matts' curiousity even further. 'This is alot of goods, War or Blight, why else do they need so much?' Matt looks about closely.
'Definately preparing for some conflict, why are we being allowed to go straight to the harbour whilst others are stopped?' Matt has made sure to have all his equipment ready for debarkation.
As they stop just outside the harbour Matt looks on at the Official Men, trying to discern any House or Familial markings.
'I really should have talked to the Captain more, he knows what has brought us here.'[/b] Matt thinks the reprehension almost making him vomit with pain.
The Captain orders the boat to allow the passengers to leave, Matt rises gracefully. [i]'This is most irregular, this crest and note implies that all or most of us are being put down here for some reason.' Matt is silent during the boat ride, though he thanks the sailor who puts them ashore, reminding him of the bawdy song they sang together the night before and giving him a couple of silver 'for tonights drinks'.
As the get to the lower bustling docks, Matt looks around as Mangur and Alika depart. He turns to Gawain and Tristan, "To me this looks most irregular. have been put ashore before others and the documents the Captain showed seemed to imply; there is a reason why!" Matt looks about trying to spot anyone watching for them.
"Personally, I don't know about your business, Matt says looking towards Gawain but I think someone has brought at least some of us here for a specific purpose. Maybe that Alika was a spy, because to me it looks like some Military action may be forth-coming. Or they have incompetant officials."
"Would you care to join me at a drinking establishment, Tristan, Gawain? Whilst we wait for your stead to be unloaded, or to be contacted by whomever has arranged for our expediant travels through customs." Matt asks with a slight bow.
Second, this is something that I realize I need to clarify. The ships in the bay were heading further up river. Anyone with any trading experience will know that the Sellen River is a major trading route and that Star Bay is a 'bottle neck' that the Taldan take every advantage of to 'tax' ships heading up river. Your boat joined a group that were heading into Cassomir harbor rather than up river.
Third, answers to your questions.
Tristen: Not much. :)
Mangur: How are you trying to gather the info (ie are you actually showing the token to anyone)
Matt: There are no holidays coming up. This could very well be regular, early spring, traffic for the port. There are ships of every nation here. The reason that the docks are so backed up is that so much of them is given over to the enormous shipworks operation. The officials only wore markings of the Taldan shipping authority.
Matt moves quietly through the crowded port, unused to this level of bustle Matt is apprehensive. He keeps looking around, making sure that he is not followed. 'Who is the Ronard Rousseau? I feel better with the Knight and Hawksman by my side.'
Matt walks out of the dock area, following the main through-fare hoping to find a tavern towards the city centre or main walls. Once Matt finds a public house of reasonable quality he will stop and have a drink. "Drinks, please Bar-man. Is it always so busy or is there a festival or something. Back in the Heart-lands it is never so busy." Matt says with a slightly woodsy accent.
Mangur is actually asking about house Rosseau, as well as specifically Ronard. He will attempt to do this clandestinely, so as not to alert anyone too much about his true intentions, which is to get to know as much about the man, his house and their political standing here in the city. He wants to know if they are experiencing any difficulties.
Basically he wants as much info before he approached these people.
Do I use bluff to misdirect people about my questioning and do I need a knowledge:Local roll to help with basic info?? ??
Alika follows the shipment to its destination, she hopes, the the mercantile district (). There, Alika will inquire about trade in recent months, specifically as to the health of relations with the capital in Oppara, whether interest is wanning, or they are seeing increased incidences of late.
Wow. This die roller hates me today.
Know:Local I'm still trying to figure out how that applies to people who are 'new in town'. I'm thinking I'll give it an initial -4 until a player gets acclimated to the local scene. I'd like your DMs feedback on that before I post it to the larger group.
Either way your Know:Local doesn't turn up anything on Rousseau, it isn't a name you have come across before.
The textiles you follow go to an area surrounding the docks with storefronts and warehouses. Your Gather Info get you a general sense of optimism for the current trade season that is just starting. You find the locals use the traffic on the river as a gauge for demand and this is already looking to be a strong year. No one mentions anything interesting about the capitol.
Alika, upset that she has learned very little of value, saunters about looking for an inn. She cleaves close to the mercantile district, reasoning that persons with interests in trade will be catered to in such an environment, by a staff familiar with discretion. She asks the 'keep if there is a man, or men available to hire to retrieve her belongings from the dock, and after settling accounts, will retire for the evening.
As for the Inn, there are many in this section of town, It seems setup to provide for the needs of the sailors and travelers without requiring them to go into the town proper. Their are unfortunately no 'men' available that the 'keep can recommend. You get the sense that for someone else he might have suggested the wrong kind of person but to you he says "No one that I'd wish on a sweet lass like you." It was late afternoon and is now early evening. You easily procure a room for the night.
Anything else before tomorrow?