South side! Yo!
South sounds good
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A Hard drizzle comes from overcast skies as you reach the Southern Gate of Solsun, making continuous little (PING!) sounds on anything metal you five have out. The sun tries to pierce the low hanging clouds during its last few hours of the day, to no avail. Much longer and low-light vision will certainly be needed outdoors.
The Southern Roads, made of hard packed dirt and gravel, lead to a thick wall of stones, likely magically held together because of the apparent lack of use of any mortar. A slightly bent and rusted gate, and the equally bent and rusted gear mechanism used to open the gate, dominate the wall as the only remarkable features on it. Four bored and miserable looking guards huddle just to the right of the gate, under a 10 X 10 square of canvas. This is held up by four metal rods, looking as if they had been hammered into the ground for long term usage. They can easily be identified as 2 Humans and 2 Half-Elves.
One Human guard apparently notices your arrival at the gate and hurries to put himself in between the gate and you. He carries an unlit hooded lantern in one hand and a typical warhammer (18 inch wooden shaft with a metal head consisting of one blunt end, one point opposite it, and one smaller point on top) hangs from his belt. He looks to be in his early 60s, bald, blue eyed, and wearing leather armor.
"Please state your names and business in Solsun.", he says in a monotone, fairly nasaly voice.
Under the tent a 30 year old Half-Elf guard with black hair nods and unrolls a piece of parchment, likely a list, and takes out a jar of ink and quill.
Traveling has become the norm for Raul, this drizzle did not bother as much as it would have when he first began the life of a traveler. He looked at the walls of stone and poorly kept gate, he has finally arrived to the city of Solsun and was hoping to find work, a roof over his head and possibly some information.
The form of the approaching guard brought him out of his thoughts, once he was in fornt of him, the red haired youth listened while trying to take notice of anything else of interest "My name is Raul Javell, I am looking for both work and a roof to stand between me and this weather" He spoke as his eyes looked past the guard.
The poor weather bothered Kyras not at all. He was well used to the outdoors. Nearing Solsun he knew it was safe to use the the road without fear of thiefs.
The guards did not worry Kyras either, giver their layed back disposition.
"Kyras Lythin. Acting as this group's guide, I am."
This is not at all what Thran had in mind when he set out for a life of adventuring. This weather is dismal and not likely to get any better. Thran is not as young as he once was and does not mind a little comfort. Well nothing for it other than to find a tavern and warm up with a little worship of Cayden Cailedn. Maybe his new traveling partners would like to have a tost to Cayden and that we all made it to town safely.
"I am Thran Torkund Cleric of Cayden Cailedn. If you would please direct us to the nearest tavern I would very much like to get dry."
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"Ya got that?!", the old Human barks, pointedly looking to the Half-Elf scribe.
The scribe nods again and begins frantically dipping his quill into the small jar of black ink and writing at a hurried pace in an attempt to please the grumpy geezer.
"What 'bout ye other two?", asks the older fellow.
No they and I are not waiting for you to say you're adventurers. This is just the way they address everyone that enters the city through their gate.
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I just roll dice on a hard surface and type it in the way Raul has it shown. You could do that if you wanted.
And I forgot to add in what Raul saw with his perception check. One of the remaining two guards in the tent is giving him in particular the stink-eye. Likely because of the Rogue's appearance.
"What kind of work ye lookin' for?, he asks gruffly, noticing he has been caught staring.
Raul noticed the look the guard was shooting his way, and found himself unable to blame the man, as he did not look the part of a peaceful traveler or returning model citizen; his short sword was buckled to the left side of his belt, the handles of his daggers were sticking out from behind him like tiny boneless wings and his crossbow was strapped over his backpack "Whatever jobs the craftsmen, merchants and citizens of this town would have me do" Answered Raul, his voice laced with calmness, then he looked around himself once more and noticed the light beginning to depart them, so he deftly pulled out his hooded lantern and clipped it to the right side of his belt, in preparation for the wave of darkness that would soon engulf the land.
[ooc]Just to give you a description. Thran is a large man 6'3" 250lbs. He is older than some new adventures at 35. He is wearing cheap scale mail under a cloak and traveling clothes and has a Greatsword strapped to his back. He has traveling gear in a backpack and a silver tankard that hangs on his belt that is as much for drinking as it is his holy symbol.
"The five of us have only just met but, whatever his background all men should have the chance to prove themseves good and I have a good feeling about all these men around me. I have less of a good feeling about this damned rain so please good sir if you would direct us to a tavern I would buy you a drink after you shift is over. Thran says smiling in a broad frendly manner.
Oh look. Rain. Great.
I fiddle around with my pack, trying to make sure my powder won't get wet. A difficult task while also trying to keep up with the group. It takes a bit, but I finally get everything situated, just in time to realize we're finally there. It was lucky enough that I met the others on the road. Not that I particularly mind traveling alone, I'm rather used to that. But it's pleasant to have others to talk to. Most of the guys back at school aren't exactly what you'd call the adventurous type, and it's good to fall back in with that type of people.
"Please state your name and business in Solsun," the guard says in a monotone, fairly nasally voice.
"Roland Variel, representative of . Uh. At your service. Or the service of whoever's in charge... I'm not really sure how this is supposed to work."
Smooth Roland. Real smooth. I'm sure they can all tell why you were chosen. Probably hoping you'd piss somebody off and get killed so they wouldn't have to deal with quite so many explosions.
I scratch the back of my head awkwardly, hoping there's no more questions.
With a tinkling of glass vials touching each other, a dwarf moves up to the guards. He has a backpack full of bottles, some empty and some filled with various substances. Strapped to his body by small holsters and strings are about a dozen small vials. A miner's pick is in a holster underneath his backpack. His wide brimmed hat fails to hide his baldness. Water pours off the brim of the hat in a deluge every time he moves his head.
"I have business to transact in your city,", he says, "I buy & sell herbal remedies. Incidentally, you look like you might be coming down with something. Can I interest you in something to fight off colds?"
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The older man sneezes, sniffs, then finally answers, "No, but thanks anyways..."
The Human guard who questioned Raul steps out from under the canvas roof to confront Thran, but Dworkin's sudden interjection stalls any sort of reply. He loosely holds a heavy steel shield and his opposite hand has been placed on his longsword hilt. His nose is hawk-like and his blond hair had been combed to the left.
Not being much of a people person Kyras happily lets the others speak, but he does watch the human carefully as he step's out towards Thran with his hand on his swordhilt.
This could go downhill rapidly. He thinks to himself as he look around for a good position to fire from if it comes to fighting.
Thran still trying to keep a grin on his face, and taking as non threatning of a stance as possible asks,
"I'm sorry but I do not understand. Is there a problem with the five of us requesting to enter your fine city? If my words offend I am sorry for that. I only want to get out of this rain and spend some gold in Solsun."
A sword constantly calls to a man's hand, the trick is not noticing when it answers the call, a child can notice that, the trick lies in being prepared regardless if the call is answered or not The word's of his teacher echoed through his memory, causing him to smile for the briefest of moments, what was left behind after the departure of that smile was an unreadable mask, which was accompanied by a studious gaze. Raul had no wish to cause trouble, but he doubted that simply saying that would get him anywhere. the snake of annoyance began coiling itself around his soul, he was used to being treated suspiciously but he did not enjoy meaningless fights, and if this particular engagement does occur, it would mean more nights on the road, with no jobs, no rest and no information.
"I am sure your hand can find other more relaxing places to rest on, we aren't here for trouble, if there is no other issues I am sure it wouldn't be a problem if we entered the city" The words of the former thief were sharpened by confidence, and his tone was devoid of any fear. Raul made no move towards any of his sheathed weapons, knowing that doing so would only antagonize these guards even further, nonetheless he placed his right foot to the side turning his body with it and kept his left foot forward; entering an incomplete combat stance, that should seem nonthreatening to most people.
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The guard snorted, but suddenly the last came forward. He had sandy brown hair, light blue eyes, another hawk-like nose, studded leather armor, and a deep blue cape. Dual short swords hung from his belt.
"Daxel, walk it off!", he commanded.
He then looked to both Raul and Thran before speaking again.
"I am sorry for my man's attitude. We are all weary from intense relations with the Northern District. My name is Penn, and I am the Captain of the Guard of Southern District. Welcome to Solsun. There should be an inn just a short ways up our main road."
He nods to the older guard, who sets down hs lantern and opens the gate using the gear mechanism next to it.
"Thank you." Dworkin says. He heads straight to the inn and goes inside.
"Its no trouble" The red haired rogue broke off the focused stare he had trained on the blond guard and walked forward, his last comment barely audible over the sound of the rain drops, he only looked back to give Thran a cordial smile. The larger man seemed friendly, which was a trait worth having in both a long road and a crowded city.
Kyras nodded his thanks to senior guard as he followed Dworkin and Raul towards the inn.
"The offer of drinks still stand to all three of you! But if you will excuse me I would like to get warm inside and out! Thran laughs loudly and turns to his new companions and says.
"Come on boys drinks are on me!"
Thran heads straight towards the inn happy to be getting out of the rain.
Well, that was... unpleasant. Glad I didn't have to do anything. I'm not sure my gun would have fired in the rain. And it's too tight packed for any real spellwork. I get a little loose and shaky, the adrenaline spike brought on by awkwardness flushing out of my system. I stutter step and fall in beside the big guy, using him as a shield from both the rain and the guards. Just in case.
Wait. Backtrack. Intense relations with the Northern District. That's something I should know about. Crap. Find out about. Ok. All I'll have to do is just ask somebody. Somebody I don't know. A stranger, as it were.
I hate this job.
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As Cpt. Penn promised, the inn was just a short walk away. As you move down the main road though, this appears to be a rough part of town. Houses are in average to poor shape, windows boarded up, wood lifting in numerous places, and holes in many a roof. At least the cobblestone roads, especially the main road, are clearly marked. Slightly rusted signs hand from wooden posts onto which they have been nailed. At the end of the main road lies "The Sleeping Fox Bar and Inn". It is the only two story building in sight, and in somewhat better shape than most of the other buildings around.
I'm thinking about various possible situations and the least embarrassing ways to get myself out of them when the inn comes into sight. Sleeping fox. I could be sleeping right now. That'd be nice. I enter, holding the door open for the others.
Thran looks to Roland and says "You look nervous kid. First time in Solsun?"
"You look nervous kid. First time in Solsun?"
"Hm what? Nervous? No. Ok, well, by that I mean yes. But not exactly. Mostly because I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do. Not really because of people. Or places. Situational nervousness, as it were. Which it is. So yeah. First time in Solsun. You?" I finally finish rambling just in time for a bit of coherency. Need to make better conversation plans. Correction. Need to make conversation plans. I really wish something shootable would attack. Defying death is so much easier than... life.
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Day takes it's final shift into night as you enter The Sleeping Fox.The inn's main floor consists of a few smaller circular tables with chairs set around them, a hearth built into the wall on your left, and a bar directly in front of you. Stairs to the right if the bar table likely lead to the smaller sleeping rooms.
The bald, slim innkeeper looks up from an unsuccessful job wiping the dirty counter down with an equally dirty rag. He smiles welcomingly, but is noticeably missing one of his front teeth.
"Welcome to The Sleeping Fox!", he says as you stride in,"What are ya' in fer? How many rooms will ya' be needing?"
"Do you have a common room?" Dworkin asks.
Houses are in average to poor shape, windows boarded up, wood lifting in numerous places, and holes in many a roof.
Kyras is last to enter the inn, uncomfortable with crowds of people, especially in enclosed spaces. However, he could not deny the comfort of the roof over his head and the warmth coming from the fire.
Once again he holds back when it comes to talking to the innkeeper. Instead he looks around the inn for anything out of place.
The shabby looking structures that surrounded Raul captured his attention; it seemed that the town as whole have not undergone any kind of serious maintenance in quite a while, and the barred up windows indicated that people were desperately trying to keep something on the streets and out of their homes. The green eyed rogue then looked to the building the guard described for them and was glad that it seemed much more inviting than the other buildings that stood by it, he increased the pace of his footsteps and was soon sheltered from the rain drops that have been hammering at his frame for most his journey, he bid goodbye to the drops of water that fell on his skin and cloths, the coldness of the air but did not part from the melodic sounds of falling water on wood, as they would not be stopped by the simple wooden walls of this inn.
"Welcome to The Sleeping Fox!", he says as you stride in,"What are ya' in fer? How many rooms will ya' be needing?"
"This be the common room, as well as the bar. Can I offer ya' a drink? Some ale perhaps? Or mead? Or grog? Or is it information yer in fer?", the Innkeeper asks Dworkin, peppering him with questions.
The young rogue listened to the conversation between the dwarven alchemist and the innkeeper as he sat down on a stool by the counter, planning to engage in the art of gaining information from an innkeeper, but before that ordering a some food would not only sate his hunger but would also make said innkeeper more susceptible to giving out said information.
"I'll have some water, also could you tell me what manner of food you still have in your storage?" Asked Raul before turning to catch a glance of the type of people that shared the common room with them, hoping that none of them were of the type that would likely start problems with a bunch of strangers.
"You look nervous kid. First time in Solsun?""Hm what? Nervous? No. Ok, well, by that I mean yes. But not exactly. Mostly because I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do. Not really because of people. Or places. Situational nervousness, as it were. Which it is. So yeah. First time in Solsun. You?" I finally finish rambling just in time for a bit of coherency. Need to make better conversation plans. Correction. Need to make conversation plans. I really wish something shootable would attack. Defying death is so much easier than... life.
Thran Laughs loudly again after hearing the young half-elf stutter over himself. "I grew up here and worked as a solider for ten years. Of course that was about eight years ago and the place has changed a lot since then. Come and sit down I will buy you a drink take the edge off." Thran then heads inside and orders enough ale for anyone that cares to drink, seemingly not concerned with the dirty glasses.
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Kyras and Raul both notice one out of place character. A man in a deep hooded black cloak sits with his feet propped up on the table in a far corner. He lazily smokes a short pipe while occasionally sipping from a pint of ale. His skin on his hands, the only visible part, is shockingly pale. He looks like he may try to wave you over shortly. He seems to be judging the quality of your group.
A fair amount of the holes seem from damage that could only be caused by scuffles in the streets. Some still have fallen in due to neglect, so both assumptions are correct.
Thran gets some ale for him any any others that want it and sits by a fire to "worship" his god by singing a bawdy tavern song. He is happy to be out of the rain.
Leaving the empty glass of water at the counter, with a few copper pieces by its side , Raul was already but a few steps away from the hooded man's table, and could clearly make out the vapors that were being emitted by his pipe He could be a possible employer, it would not hurt to introduce my self now, even if we don't end up discussing any jobs I could do for him Thought the red haired rogue.
Once he was directly in front of the man's table Raul tried to make out his facial features, but the shield of shadows the man's cloak offered could not be pierced by the green eyed man's gaze "I could not help but notice the look you have been giving me and the group of people I have arrived with, my name is Raul Javell, and you are?" Raul's voice hid whatever emotions he felt on the inside , and the inquiry that was made did not feel demanding or urgent, it almost felt like an exchange between an overly relaxed merchant and a customer he has never met before.
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"Brack, though in these parts I am known as The Stranger.", the cloaked man says in a slightly wavy voice filled with what could only be described as malice. This may be just his regular voice though. He does not offer any sign of a hand shake, but does indicate that you should sit down in the empty chair you find yourself standing next to.
"What is your reasoning for coming to me?", the quiet man asks.
Raul sat on the chair before him, while keeping his eyes trained on the man who introduced himself as Brack. The rogue was not the type of person who would rebuff an invite, especially one that could potentially lead him to information or work "Curiosity" Answered Raul "A man does not stare that long at a group of armed strangers unless he has something in mind" He elaborated on said answer, his words still not betraying any emotions that lingered inside of him "Am I right? Raul broke of the studious gaze he had focused on the stranger he sat with and tried to find his travel companions, who seemed to have scattered in the common room of the inn A joint job would naturally offer a larger reward and reduce any potential risks...most jobs given by people who talked as this man does usually involved risks He thought as he began pondering what possible job if any, could this man offer them.
"I've heard of talk of this on the road, but I don't know any of the details" Answered Raul, seeing little reason to lie to the strange man, but that did not mean that he would be lowering his guard anytime soon; bringing up such a subject could only mean that whatever work this man was offering, it would most likely be related to said conflict The last thing I wanted was to be involved in political struggles thought the rogue, as he began doubting the worth of whatever quest Brack would offer them. The all too familiar feeling of annoyance donned upon Raul once more, causing his usually calm face to bear a small frown.
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"First and foremost, I am an information broker. At least that is the nicer part of my line of work. There is a warlord named Ronan who is trying to carve out a territory for himself in between the districts, has nearly unlimited recourses, and powerful allies. If you can find him and convince him to see me as an ally I will reward you handsomely.", came the offer.
"I grew up here and worked as a solider for ten years. Of course that was about eight years ago and the place has changed a lot since then. Come and sit down I will buy you a drink take the edge off."
"Ah. Hmmm. Yes. Thanks. But actually. I don't deal well with alcohol. I get... trigger happy, I guess you might say. Not good for my state of employment. Or health. Or the health of others. So yeah. Mostly all I drink is water. Maybe some watered down wine. Don't trust the water here. Run down. Not sanitary. Have purification system somewhere..." I start rummaging around in my bag, looking for the filter bag in my pack.
So a decade of military experience and a friendly demeanor. That's good. I make a mental note to stick close to him in case of firefight. Not too close though. Don't wanna blow him up. Don't wanna blow me up either, but I have less of a say in that.
"So what'd you do for the past eight years?" I ask, remembering that I'll be getting wine, and thus don't need the filter bag. Watered wine. More like winey water. Hm. I follow the big man over to the fire and sit down.