Defense of Brookside

Game Master caster4life

Wow! This city has some really good illustrators.

Mel is correct and vendors are indeed closing up rapidly. Perrin and Kazador are able to place their orders but soon retire to the Badger as well. Kelian waits at a table listening to the music and watching all the strangers milling around. He looks relieved when you arrive and is happy to show you to your rooms whenever you're ready.

It's significantly harder to sleep here since there is almost always some noise in a city of this size, particularly in a neighborhood with several taverns. But you are all tired enough that it doesn't prove problematic.

Perrin's eyelids are heavy when he gets back to the inn, but he can't let himself sleep. He works in his room for over an hour, setting up a miniature lab from the materials in his bag of holding. Crafting a scroll of fog cloud and a ghast retch flask.

Then he sits by the window in darkness, his mind churning as he sorts through the events of this long, painful day. Using Spirit Talker to gain arcane enlightenment, then preparing continual flame, blood money, and speak with dead in his empty slots. A frown comes over Perrin's face and he reaches for the amulet around his neck, the amulet plucked first from the corpse of an orc chieftain and then from a pile of pebbles at the Brookside gate. He squeezes it tighter and tighter until his hand begins to bleed, and then the blood crumbles away into a crimson dust. Blood money. Damage: 1d6 ⇒ 6 When he lifts his hand from the amulet, it glows with a pale flame that sheds almost no color with its light. Continual flame.

The doctor crosses to his bag once more and pulls out something heavy, unwrapping a cloak to reveal Alric's bloody corpse. He studies it for a long moment, then speaks in a hushed voice. "Why have the Reapers been breaking into merchant offices?" Speak with dead. The late Alric must make a DC 19 Will save or be forced to answer three questions truthfully. Without his save-boosting items, of course.

Mel took advantage of the others' absence to bathe and eat, as she had planned, then retired to her room, leaving Kelian sipping a drink below while waiting for the others to return.

But sleep evades Mel for a long time, despite her exhaustion and the comfortable bed. After tossing and turning a while, she gets up and sits in the window seat, knees pulled up against her chest. She looks up into the darkness of the night sky, slowly flipping a ring over and over in her hands -- the one Perrin gave to her earlier in the day.

"Voi Ostara," she prays, "Tänään tapoin viisi ihmistä. Neljä heistä oli pientä folk, omat maanmieheni, jotka sikäli kuin tiedän, eivät olleet syyllistyneet yhtään syntiä vaan joutuivat konfliktin vastakkaiseen puoleen. He palvelivat yhteisöään, kun he uskoivat parhaiten. Niin minäkin. Ja he kuolivat sen takia. Viides oli joka tapauksessa paha nainen, joka palveli vain omaa ahneuttaan; mutta minä suren häntä niin, sillä nyt hänen elämänsä on ohi, eikä hänellä koskaan ole mahdollisuutta lunastaa itsensä."

"Jumalatar, en tiedä, jos kävelen oikealla tiellä. Mitä voin toivoa tehdä lopettaakseni tämän sodan puhkeamisen? Tai minä aiheen sitä? Oliko Elrin juuri sen jälkeen? Oliko sota ollut estetty, jos Brookside kaatui?"

She pauses, twiddling the ring in her fingers.

"Perrin sanoisi, että kaikki on tarkoitus. Jos sinun aikomuksesi on puhdas, niin ei voi tulla sairaita. Mutta hän on väärässä. Niin hyvin väärässä. He sanovat, että hyvät aikeet avaavat polun helvettiin. Voin suunnitella kaiken hyvää, jota haluan, mutta silti työtäni toimii pahoin."

"Yhteyksieni eivät näytä kovin huolestuttavan tappamista, mutta vihaan sitä. Tämä rengas - se tekisi minut tappavammaksi. Mutta minä vihaan tappamista, ja pelkään, että tulin yhtä vähän kuin naisen, jonka tapoin tänään. Pelkään mitä voisin tulla, jos otan vaurautta tai voimakasta taikuutta niiltä, jotka olen tapoin. Haluan kuitenkin elää myös. Voinko kumota sen, mikä antaisi minulle reunan seuraavan kerran, kun joku yrittää lopettaa elämäni?"

She pauses once again, burying her head against her knees.

"En vain tiedä mitä tehdä. En näe selkeää polkua eteenpäin. Lähin ystäväni palvelee paholainen-herraa. Ja minä tulen murhaajaksi, kun kaikki, mitä halusin, oli oppia ihmisten, kääpiöiden ja puoliläisten tarinoita ja jakaa heidät kansani kanssa."

After several minutes of quiet sobbing, she raises a tear-streaked face and numbly rises from her seat. She shoves the ring back into her belt pouch, leaving it on the bedside table, crawls back into bed and is asleep almost before her head hits the pillow.

Kazador lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling. His beard was once more immaculate, his clothes clean. He had an actual roof over his head. His ancestral armor was being awakened, the old runes re-activated. He had platinum now, when before he had cheap ale. It was just like it was before. He had everything at this moment...because he was good at killing people. And like before, he really didn’t care about the people he killed. They made their decisions, he made his. He didn’t see what there wast to be guilty about.

And yet, things were different. Unlike the past, he reflected. He was once full of pride, of aggrandizement. He had money, fame, women. Whatever he wanted he claimed, and his clan gave it. Because he was worth it. Because he convinced them that he was worth it. Because he convinced himself.

He had shattered, when the truth was shown. When their belief, and his, was revealed to be a lie. But now, he was shattered no more. He was reforged. And yet the old cracks were so very, very visibile. He was not the same dwarf that he once was.

Kazador was confused, to say the least. He had never been one for deep thought. This was all very new to him. He felt like he was on the edge, between the two extremes of his life. He didn’t know how to feel. So he lay there, staring at the ceiling.

Eventually, you all manage to get some rest. The morning comes, perhaps sooner than you'd like, with the busy sounds of wagons clattering to market over cobblestones, vendors crying their wares, and citizens milling about their business. Two women can be heard loudly arguing over the price of a fish while a minstrel sings a song of Alain the Quick and his deeds in the Serpent Isles fighting pirates and sea monsters. A herald announces an upcoming feast thrown by the Bishop. And soon, you each hear a knock on your door.

A young female voice calls from the other side of the door at each room "Breakfast is served downstairs until second bell!"

Kazador got out of bed. He felt anxious. He was having both his hammer and his armor awakened. All he had to defend himself at the moment was his fists and his wits. Two things which had served him well for many a year on the streets. He reflected that it wasn't so much being unarmed and unarmored which worried him, it was what might happen to his ancestral artifacts while he was without them. He told himself, for the thousandth time, that a few days without them was preferable when it mean that it would be easier to safeguard them for the rest of his days. Such was cold comfort though.

Still...breakfast. That, he hoped, would cheer him up.

Mel wakes at the call. She pushes back the sheets and sits up, discovering that she has awoken with a pounding headache.

"Paska," she mutters, massaging her temples. "Maybe some water will help."

Bleary-eyed, she gets out of bed and dresses, then makes her way downstairs. "What's for breakfast?" she asks the girl who woke her.

"We've fresh bread, cheese, and smoked kippers which we can serve either hot or cold, as you please. Those are included in the price of your room. If you're feeling flush, we have some early cherries, a silver per serving because they've only just begun to ripen. For drink, we've water, small ale, or wine." The young woman, brown-haired and brisk, seemed almost inhumanly cheerful for the hour.

"Bread and cheese, please, and a serving of the cherries would be lovely. Just water." Mel passes over a silver.

Cherries begin ripening in April and are available through the end of July.

As Mel begins eating, she sees Kazador emerging from upstairs. She waves him over. "Come join me, Kazador," she calls.

Kazador stomped over. Because that was how he walked. Glad to see a friendly face, he welcome the feeling of belonging somewhere. He got the impression that there were plenty of skeletons in the closest of this group, that bothered him not. It just meant that he fit in. It was good to know people when sober.

"A good morn to ye, lass."

"And to you. I hope today is a little less ... lethal ... than things have been of late."

Mel, I'll handle the dialogue from named NPCs. I have plans for this one. But that description of breakfast is very much what I had in mind.

The young lady comes over to your table, smiling brightly. "Is there anything else I can get for you? It seems your doctor friend is sleeping in. My father said that he stayed up late working on who knows what. Weird sounds and all from his room." She looks to Mel and Kazador questioningly "Is that normal for him?"

Perrin has indeed been sleeping in, having lain awake for quite some time even after getting his answers and cleaning up the blood. Once he's finished preparing his spells for the day, Perrin tucks the glowing amulet under his shirt and stumbles downstairs with bleary eyes. "Mm. Breakfast."

Kelian joins Mel, Perrin, and Kazador at the table. "So what happened yesterday? And what's the plan for today?" He takes a big bite of hot bread and cheese after asking his question and looks around exoentantly while chewing.

Okay, sorry.

"Yes, I'd say weird sounds at all hours are pretty much normal for Perrin," Mel says. "I hope he didn't disturb any of the other guests. Here he is now, in fact."

Turning to Kelian, she says "Well, we got into a bit of a tussle. But we got back out of it again. And now ... well, I'm not really sure. It depends on what happens next. I can't speak for anyone else, but for my part I hope nothing of note happens today at all. I have some shopping to do, and I'd be grateful to avoid any further calamities for a few days and just rest up. How about the rest of you?" She glances around the table.

No need to apologize, Mel. I greatly enjoy your descriptive scenes, interactions, and NPC dialogue. This will just be our system to differentiate which NPCs are available for player creativity and which aren't.

Perrin sighs, looking tempted. "A few days of rest sounds amazing. But eventually we should probably look into those office break-ins. The Bishop seemed to think they were pretty important."

He stops, staring down at the bread in his hand in sudden recollection. "Oh. And we might want to pay a visit to a certain bakery. Someone's still trying to get Elrin out of prison, right?"

"Agreed," Mel sighs.

Mel turns to the young woman who had woken them. "Excuse me, ma'am," she says. "I'm new to town and find myself in need of several services. Is there perhaps a pamphlet from the local Hall of Commerce listing the services available in town? I have a lot to do, and it would be nice to know where to go instead of wandering aimlessly looking for shops."

Alice turns to Mel and curtsies. "Aye, ma'am. You can call me Alice, if it pleases you. I can help with that. You could go to the Hall and purchase a trade book. Or if you'd like, I can ask my father to give you a general idea of where to find things."

Perrin turns to her curiously. "Who's your father? I could use a crash course in this town as well."

Mel finishes eating a cherry, delicately spitting the pit into a small cup the inn had provided for that purpose.

"I agree," she says. "I'll happily listen to what your father can tell us, and then likely go purchase a trade book as well."

Alice waves to a middle-aged man behind the bar slicing hot bread. "Da! These folks want to know about the city. Where they can find things and the like."

The man calls back into the kitchen while wiping his hands on his apron. "David! If your mother doesn't need you back there, come slice bread!" Then he hangs up his apron while a boy of ten with a more of brown hair scampers out if the kitchen and up onto a stool to slice bread. The man ruffles his hair then walks over to you and nods. "Sirs. Ma'am. How did you sleep? Alice says you would like to know where to make certain purchases? Most decent blacksmiths are near the guild headquarters. Books, chemicals, and magical items can be purchased in shops near the university. Many general goods can be found in the market. The freshest fish is sold on Anselm's wharf. The capital wharf attracts many charlatan fishmongers who will tell you a code is a sturgeon. You'll find the best tools and the like at Atticus' General Goods just north of the market. Is there anything else in particular you'd like to find or know?" He smiles warmly, content to serve customers and improve the Badger's reputation.

"Yes, please," Mel says. "Can you recommend a reputable bank? I need to establish a local account. These cherries are excellent, by the way."

Henry nods and smiles. "Thank you kindly. My brother grows them a few miles north of the city. As for a bank, the Public Counting House of the Textiles Guild has an excellent reputation but you have to deposit quite a sum for them to open an account for you. Three to five thousand." He scratches his head. "I don't recall exactly. It's never been something I've considered. If you're looking for something smaller, the Bardi Family Merchant Office will hold smaller deposits. It's a bit riskier as they don't have the security or massive backing off the entire Guild." He shrugs, having provided the options and not wanting to pry into your financial state.

Perrin turns to Kazador. "What about you, any plans for the day?"

Kazador brushed the crumbs from his lips and shook his head. "Nothing. If ye talked to me a week ago, I'd have drunk till I didn't know what day it was. Now? Figure that I might as well explore the town with the lot of ye."

The innkeeper stands up to head back to work. "Well I hope you enjoy our city. Do let me know if there's anything else I can help with." He pauses for a moment to see if you want anything else from him before he heads back to work.

As the innkeep retreats, Mel looks curiously at Kazador.

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (6) + 6 = 12

Unsure of whether he might be willing to talk about whatever problems drove him to drink, she opts instead for what she hopes is a more neutral topic. "Your hammer is unlike any other magical device I've ever read about in scholarly literature," Mel says. "Accounts of weapons that can heal are generally the province of ancient legend and fairy tale -- not taken seriously. But yesterday morning you undeniably used it to salve my wounds after the ambush. I am curious about its history."

Looking decidedly uncomfortable, Kazador said ”It is said that when time began the father walked alone, and named all that had no name. A true name has power. Not like the illusions that we call ourselves. The sons learned this from the father. They could not name as he did, for a name can only be given once. But from the father they learned the names already given. They created runes, which when activated, spoke the first-names. These were the runesmiths, the most secretive of clans. My hammer is a relic of an age that existed when the mountains were green and before the forges became ashen-cold. It was made with more skill than anything that can be made in these hollow times. I have training in how to use it. In the hands of anyone else, the hammer will not speak. But right now, it is sleeping. I have commissioned a ritual that will hopefully make it stir. I...hope that answers your question. And I hope ye realize that this answer is one almost never told to those not of the blood.”

Oh, dear, Mel thinks in embarrassment. It seems that's a sensitive topic after all.

"Tu garbei mane, kariai," she says, placing one hand on her heart and inclining her head to him.

"And as you have so honored me, I feel I should offer a tale of my own people -- perhaps not as important as yours, but it seems meet to offer a legend for a legend. So here is the tale of how the moon came to be."

Mel takes a sip of water, closes her eyes a moment, then places both hands on the table and begins speaking.

In the Beginning, when the World was still quiet, there was no moon. After the setting of the sun, all the lands of the world would fall utterly into darkness, for the stars offer little light despite their beauty. It was a fearful time; those creatures that loved the light would withdraw to their nests and burrows to huddle in fear until dawn's next appearance. The people likewise retreated to their raivaa, the strange round houses of stone that they dwelt in at that time. For there were many terrible creatures that hunted by night, and the people feared them.

It came to pass that a maiden was born named Elävä. She was not especially beautiful, for her face was marked from birth with many small scars. But she had a kind heart and warm smile, and she loved the woodlands. As a child she would tarry for long hours in the lands around her home, watching the light playing in the leaves and hurrying home only when the setting sun forced it.

"Mama," she asked her mother, "Why does the sun go away?"

"Because her glory is too great," Elävä's mother replied. "If she stayed, we would all be burned by her."

And this saddened Elävä's heart, for she loved the light on the leaves.

In time Elävä showed a talent for magic, and was apprenticed to the village wiseman, who was something like a wizard and something like a priest, but not really like either. He taught her how to listen to rocks and plants and hear the stories they whispered. He taught her to fly like a hawk, and to swim like an otter. He taught her how to heal, and how to lay curses. And eventually, Elävä took his place as the wisewoman of her village.

One day a stranger came to town. He was a man unlike any other they had ever seen, for his skin was green like the leaves, and his hair black like the night. He had sharp, sharp teeth and spoke no tongue that anyone knew. Everyone feared him, and so they called for their wisewoman. Elävä came, and using her magics she spoke with him.

"Hail, stranger," she said. "Why have you come?"

The stranger bared his sharp teeth and said "I come to claim tribute! Your village belongs to the Aruk now. You will give us a tithe of your finest goods and send us four youths as slaves."

"And if we refuse?" she asked.

"Then the Aruk will come and slaughter you all and take what we want anyway."

"We have many bows, and will surely kill many of your clan if you attack," Elävä warned him.

"We fear not your bows!" the man said. "You have one day to collect your tithe."

And with that he turned and left. The village refused, of course, for they were confident in the strength of their archers. When the Aruk man came to claim the tithe the next day, he was greeted with a shower of arrows instead. "Good," he called to them. "I look forward to our battle!" But he did not attack, nor did he have any allies with him that they could see; and he fled.

They came again in force that night, and that is when the village learned the fearsome truth they had never suspected: the Aruk could see in the dark as clearly as if it were day. They fell upon the village like wolves upon a lamb, for an archer must be able to see clearly at range. The darkness of night left the archers helpless, but caused no hindrance to the Aruk. They cut the villagers down with axes of sharpened stone.

Seeing that the battle was lost, Elävä fled to her pyhäkkö -- a shrine made of standing stones. There she fell to her knees and prayed in the darkness to Sarenrae. "O Goddess, you who lights the path of the righteous," Elävä prayed, "Our village is lost to these vile creatures, the Aruk. We cannot stand against them when we cannot see. It is too late for my village -- but I beg you, Goddess, save the others of my people! Send us light, so that we may defend ourselves."

Elävä could hear the Aruk coming. They were not hurrying. Their steps were measured and steady, and the laughed as they called out crude jokes in their harsh tongue. Elävä remained kneeling, hands clasped, eyes shut, praying.

Then the noises behind her faded, and she heard a different voice. A woman's voice, soft and rich. "Elävä," it said. "You who love the light on the leaves. You have asked a great boon. Are you prepared to sacrifice for it?"

"Yes." said Elävä.

"Will you suffer pain for it?"

"Yes." said Elävä.

"Will you forsake your life for it?"

"If it will help my people, then yes!" Elävä cried.

"Then look at me."

And Elävä looked at Sarenrae in all her glory. It burned, searing her face, and she started to turn away.

"You must look at me!" the goddess commanded. "For as long as you can bear it. When you look at me, your people will be able to see, even in the night. But when you look away, the darkness will return."

"Yes, goddess," Elävä said, despair and joy warring in her heart as she wept from dazzled eyes.

And ever since, Elävä has hung in the night sky, slowly turning her pocked face towards the goddess or away. When she can stand the pain, then we can see clearly enough even in the dark of night. But when the pain becomes too great, we are once again blinded.

And that is how the moon came to be, in the Beginning, when the World was still quiet.

Finishing, Mel takes another drink of water and falls silent.

Mel, take a hero point.

The young lady comes by your table, seeing Mel taking a drink. "Would you like some more water?" She holds up a tin pitcher helpfully.

I'm enjoying this conversation scene so I won't push us forward until you guys signify that's what you want.

"Yes, thanks," Mel smiles at the young woman.

Perrin listens in fascination as Kazador and Mel share the stories of their people. "Wow..." he finally murmurs. "That's really something." He accepts the offered water and stares down into his glass. "You know, Brookside's never really had universal stories like that. We've got people from all sorts of backgrounds, for such a small town. But there is one tale I read when I was younger that I've been thinking about a lot lately. Would you like to hear the Story of the Sun Orchids?"

"I think you might be surprised," Mel says. "I heard a lot of stories told during the year I lived there. But then, I was there looking for them."

"But by all means," she goes on, "Let us have the Story of the Sun Orchids."

She takes out her journal and jots a few notes about Kazador's story, then settles in to listen.

Perrin nods and smiles. "Oh yes, we have lots of stories, and they're all important. But from what I've seen, everyone has their own - the tales that really stuck with them." He takes a swallow of water and a deep breath. "This is one of mine."

"There once was an alchemist named... Aaron. More than anything else, he wanted to understand how the world worked, how it all came apart and fit back together again. So he spent his time studying all he could about life and death and change. When Aaron was young he was surrounded by family, but as he grew older he cut himself off from the world. And in old age, he became fixated on one problem alone: holding off death so he could continue his research. Eventually, he became convinced that the secret to staying young forever lay in a very special type of flower: the sun orchid."

"On his deathbed, with nowhere else to turn, Aaron prayed. And his god offered him a lifeline. He had failed to obtain the orchid elixir, he would not become new and bright and beautiful in the sunshine. But even when plants die, and their flesh breaks down into soil, that soil is still teeming with life. So too, said his god, could Aaron go on. He would not become young again, he would not feel the warmth of the sun or the sweetness of pure water. But those had never been what life was about for him. He would go on thinking, and learning, and exploring, even as his body rotted away."

Perrin looks up as if awakening from a trance, and he seems a bit shaken. He glances between Mel and Kazador.
"Um. Anyway. He lived happily ever after. The end."

Knowledge (religion): 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (15) + 11 = 26

The scratch of Mel's pencil slows as Perrin's story goes on. She looks quietly at the page a moment.

"And why have you been thinking of this story, Perrin?" she asks, bringing her gaze up to meet his.

Perrin blinks. "I guess it just reminds me that 'success' is a... complicated word." The doctor shrugs. "Also I was talking to a dead person last night, so it seemed relevant."

A pause. "Oh, I probably should have mentioned that first." Perrin leans in and motions for the others to do the same. "I cast a spell to speak with Alric's corpse. He told me the Reapers broke into those offices to get information on shipping schedules, of all things."

Mel blanches. She can feel the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

"I ... see," she says slowly. "Ah ... shipping schedules for what kind of goods?"

Perrin holds out his hands helplessly. "No idea. I can't question him again for another week."

Mel contemplates the idea of questioning a week-old corpse and shudders.

She closes her notebook, tucks it into her bag. "Again, thank you, Kazador. I'm honored that you shared your tale with me. I have much to do, please excuse me."

She stands to go, and takes a few steps, then pauses and turns back. "You know Perrin, I've heard that story before. The name was slightly different. And the way I heard it, 'Aaron' regretted that bargain. He's a slave, and has been desperately seeking the key to his collar ever since. I don't know whether to pity him ... or fear the day he gets loose. Either way, I guess the lesson is that some bargains aren't worth it."

And with that, she leaves the Cozy Badger intent on completing her day's errands.

Mel heads off on her errands and starts trying to find her way through the buzzing streets of Helm.

I'm happy to RP as much or little of the purchasing as you wish. Or you can provide the scene. Mel can find all the items except the Pathfinder Pouch in a day of shopping. Kazador, none of your items seemed that rare to me so you can find them. Perrin, you can find everything but you'll have to order the shears to be made. Same price, just takes a few days.

I think we can gloss over most of it.

Over the course of the next few hours, Mel goes on a whirlwind of a shopping trip. She stops by the Hall of Commerce, where she purchases a trade book and a map of the city. Then she makes her way to the Public Counting House of the Textiles Guild and establishes an account there, cautioning them that she's planning on spending quite a lot of it today, but that there will be a respectable sum left over.

Leaving the Counting House with a letter of credit, a much lighter backpack, and a certain amount of relief at not carrying a baron's ransom in gold around on her person, Mel returns to the potion store she had visited with Perrin the previous day, where she purchases a potion allowing her to see in the dark.

Kn(Religion): 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (10) + 11 = 21

After perusing the trade book a bit, she selects the Whispering Anvil Smithy and makes her way to it. The proprietor proves to be a pleasant, freckled and red-headed dwarven woman named Pippi Ravnasdottir. As they chat a bit, Mel notices a curiously shaped gear attached to the wall and recognizes it as a holy symbol of Brigh. When asked, Pippi cheerfully acknowledges following that goddess. They discuss what Mel wants her bow to be like, and Pippi quotes a price that makes beads of sweat appear on Mel's forehead -- 9,000 gold pieces to enchant the bow, and nine days' work. But she passes over her letter of credit and the bow, and pays for it, leaving the shop in a slightly shocky haze of "Did I really just spend that much money all at once?"

Consulting her trade book again, Mel comes across a curious entry: a shop called Vortigern's Storage, advertising all kinds of magical containers. It proves to specialize mostly in enchanted barrels that keep fish and other foodstuffs fresh during shipment, but also has a selection of other containers and bags of all sorts. Mel upgrades her backpack to a Handy Haversack there, as well as picking up a Healer's Satchel, which Vortigern keeps in stock because they're handy on long sea voyages. After the expense for the bow enchantment, Mel hardly blinks at the prices for those.

By the time all that's done, it's time for lunch. Mel comes across a restaurant called The Clam's Last Stand, where she has a bowl of excellent clam chowder and a light cucumber sandwich (1 sp for the meal).

After lunch, she goes looking for a bowyer, and dickers for raw materials to make a spare bow for herself. After talking shop for a while with the bowyer, a moderately unpleasant human man named Archibald Fletcher, Mel leaves with a well-seasoned stave of high quality yew (166.66 gp).

All the walking about has proven rather exhausting, so she returns the Cozy Badger, takes a nap, reorganizes her gear, and goes looking for a bookstore later in the afternoon.

Bookstore scene to follow.

Mel's map is now the first slide of big maps with the link up top. Still working on it but gives you some idea. Dark brown is city wall. Scale is such that clumps of buildings are put on the map. The clump labeled "Cozy Badger" isn't just the Cozy Badger at all and is a whole city block of buildings. I'm just labeling where it is.

With the others drifting away, Kazador did to. But not before giving Mel a warrior’s salute. A fist pressed against chest. It was deserved, and he had no words capable to expressing his thoughts.

For hours Kazador wandered. All he knew of the town was where to go to forget. Everything looked different at that moment. Well dressed and clean, people nodded to him respectfully in the street. When he dared to look into a confectionary store, he wasn’t thrown out. The town was different from what he had known. Even when he passed one of his old drinking ‘friends’, the man didn’t recognize him.

With no place to go, and nothing to do, Kazador was left to his thoughts. And for once they were not on himself and his shame. Rather, his comrades. Mel’s story resonated with him. He had heard something similar in his youth, only dealing with earthquakes. He wondered then how much was true. And how outsiders might be more similar to his own people than he had thought.

Sitting for lunch, he thought over Perrin’s story. What was the reason for it? Was he searching for the elixer? He couldn’t quite wrap his head around it, but it seemed that there was more to it than he knew.

Perrin glances after Mel thoughtfully as she leaves, then sighs and shakes his head. He finishes his toast before heading out to complete the days errands.

Most of his purchases are fairly standard for magical items, but just before leaving the shop he spots a strange sketch in a book of supernatural designs. Stepping closer, he sees a pair of scissors with engravings of aging human forms on the blade. As Perrin reads the description his eyes narrow, then widen, then slide into a smile. "That one." He shows the shopkeeper as he counts out the appropriate payment.

After his shopping is complete, Perrin takes a few hours to explore the city and get his bearings. As it nears lunchtime, the doctor wanders into a block of foreign embassies. In sudden recollection, he looks around for a bakery.