Realizing he has not eaten in quite some time Rougar digs into the belly of the mackerel using only hand and mouth, savoring the oily juices. He finishes one off quickly and goes after another with equaled enthusiasm.
Wiping his mouth on the sleeve of his robe, Rougar exclaims Gods, do I love fish and these are fine!
Realizing he has neglected his guest Rougar turns to his companions.
Friends, here sits Percy Grenville of House Grenville, a local man. Percy, as you know I am Rougar and these two are Soru and Gill. We are new to your town, just come from sea, and would like to learn more.
Gill diverts his attention from Soru for a moment and gives Percy a nod, "Hi there nice to meet you sir."
Sure, li'l one. A pint of ale would do just nicely.
Percy gives an effortless toss of his hand towards the halfling, releasing the two coins Rougar offered him, while in the same beat grabbing Rougar's paw with his other hand and shaking it very officially.
Percy's charismatic manner gives him attention of the table. When he speaks his arms move dramatically and widely.
And a surprising pleasure to meet one Kobold such as yourself, Gil! I've not yet seen one of your kind that wasn't either just on the brink of turning high tail or pouncing towards me with a sharpened rock!
Percy blurts this with a jolly laugh while simultaneously giving Gill a friendly slap on his back. He then turns to face Soru, now dramatically quiet.
And there's more to this one than meets the eye, I bet! You look scholarly, as one such as myself.
Percy crosses his hand over his chest and looks down dramatically as he says this. Looking up, Percy stares into Sóru's eyes.
Where have you studied, Sóru? Perhaps here, on Alaron? Although... you don't seem to have the look of a Ffolk about you.
As if breaking from a trance, Sóru shakes his head and casts a bleary eye at Percy.
"No...no, I don't think I'm from around here. I was just about to tell Gill that I can only recount the past year of my life. A year ago, I awoke on a deserted island not far from here with no recollection of anything, including how I got there or who I was. I can recall a few scenes from my childhood, so I know my name, and I know I have a deep connection to the Weave. Other than that, I am helpless. At least for the time being. One clue I have as to my forgotten life is that the stars in the night sky are different than those from the brief memories I have of childhood." Sóru stares off at nothing, stroking his chin as he muses to himself, "I must look into that soon."
Sóru looks back at Percy, a bit caught off his own guard.
"You must excuse me, I don't know why I am being so frank to a stranger. You have the air of one who is...easy...to talk to."
Listening to Soru recount his tale, Rougar nibbles on a piece of bread. Placing the remainder on his plate, he leans back in his chair and strokes his chin.
Your plight strikes me, dear Soru. Memory is not only the path behind you, it shows you where you must go.
Among my people, everyone has their own path that they must follow. To know one's path is the pinnacle of self understanding. If I can, I will help you find your memory. It is my sincere hope that your path returns to you.
Gill grins smugly and nods, "Gill not travel much or see much of my own kind for that matter, fortunate most people are too busy with their pointless chores than to notice lil me... Or their wallets."
Gill chuckles slightly but stops himself, "So Gill suspects that is"
Gill proceeds for munch visciously at his meal and greedily licks his fingers, "Weren't we talking about some sword you 'found'?"
Sóru smiles faintly and looks down at his food, then back up at Rougar.
"Thank you, Rougar, your help is most welcome. Though I fear I have no idea where to start." Regaining his composure, Sóru turns to Percy. "Anyway, Percy. Seeing as we are new here, I would like to inquire what you know of this town. Anything interesting about the city guard? And would you know a thing or two about the sea trade?"
The woman from behind the bar walks over, her steps heavy and awkward, placing four flagons of ale on the table. She grunts in affirmation and stomps back to the bar, leaving the lot to their introductions.
The city guard, known colloquially as "Yellowtails" due to their yellow capes and arm bands, watch over Llewellyn and carry out the judgement issued by officials and Lord Buckwalter Llewellyn himself. Although not directly under the orders of Lord Llewellyn, the Yellowtails operate under the Marshal Captain Antrond Gillsbeck who is one of two military advisers to Lord Llewellyn, so their judgments are often seen as one in the same. If accused of a crime by the guard, the perpetrator is more often then not fined or jailed, as the Marshal Captain and his deputies rarely distrust their underlings. Appropriately, corruption is dealt with swiftly and effectively, often resulting in at least permanent disbarment of any corrupt guard and occasionally imprisonment or even death. The guards are paid well to keep them from skimming off the top and to make sure they remain loyal to the town and it's surrounding Cantrev. Yellowtails do hold jurisdiction beyond the limits of the town, and regularly patrol the area, sometimes with the assistance of contracted mercenaries. Relations between the Ffolk and Northmen in the area are generally peaceful due to the presence of such a law keeping body.
Sea Trade is pleantiful in Llewellyn. Ships arrive in the bay from all over the Moonshae Isles, both Northmen and Ffolk lands. Most ships from elsewhere first take port in Caer Callidyr on Alaron, Gnarhelm on northern Alaron or Caer Corwell on Gwenneth, before shipping to any other place in the Isles. There are ports on all inhabited islands, and docks, abandoned or otherwise on the more mysterious islands.
Privateers are common as are Northmen warships looking to battle. The Callidyrian Navy, which takes port in all places in the south and many in the north, is tremendously powerful, however, and mostly curtails all Northmen and pirate efforts to seize control of shipping lanes or assault allied shores. The Northmen are more prominent in the north, of course, and have more sway in those waters.
Leaning forward again, Rougar snaps his fingers and pulls his sack up from the floor. Sliding his plate to the side, he slips the blade out of the sack and gently places it on the table for the others to see.
Ah yes. Thank you for reminding me, Gill. I become distracted so easily sometimes. I know you said you had some knowledge about weapons or their value. However, Percy my good man, I was wondering if you might know of a vendor or two that I might be able to take this to. The more discreet, the better. I would rather avoid the attention of the guards.
His head half-cocked, Percy seems genuinely saddened by Soru's story.
That is quite a predicament you seem to have. But the bit about the constellations peaks my interest, indeed.
Now, about this town, I can tell you much. The "yellowtails" are the local guards, and they do well enough. 'Tis rare to see much crime here, at least any base or vulgar crime. Most are 'fraid to cross those noble creatures. Not much interesting about them, that I can tell you. Marshal Captain Antrond Gillsbeck leads them, but I've yet had the pleasure of sharing his company. What spurs questions of the guard, eh? Are you three a group of ne'er-do-wells? I wouldn't put it past you seeing the way you all appear together.
Percy grins when he says this and, with a quick smirk, looks unaccusingly at the three of them.
As for the sea trade, I know little. I am no sailor, but an entertainer of sailors. I do know that many ships come and go constantly. And not all of them are legitimately harbored, if you know what I mean. Privateers, ahem, if you will...
And as for that blade...
Percy places it on the table in front of him a takes a long swig of ale as he looks over it.
Gill leans over the table and glowers at the blade examining it up and down whilst rubbing his chin.
Yes..
Percy takes a quick look around the tavern for anyone that might recognize him or that he might recognize, himself.
In a quieter voice:
Yes, I believe I can lighten your hands of this, whilst making your pockets a little heavier, indeed. That is, as long as my pockets get a bit of that weight, as well. Follow? No trouble from the guards, guaranteed.
Gill looks Percy up and down for a moment...
"Unless the cat wants this for another purpose I say we sell it, I'd like to be there for the deal, always good to make a good buyer contact... This blade is well made and can fetch a hefty coin however me wonder if your average guard here would carry a fine blade as this...
Rougar takes a swig from his mug and swirls it around. He then nods in agreement.
Indeed, my friends. I have no need to use this and honestly it is too expensive for my tastes. However, I am interested if it will tell us something of the assailant on the docks. Once the information is obtained we should sell it and you all may take the lion's share. Allow me to keep about ten gold and you may split the rest as you see fit. If this is acceptable, then I suggest we finish our meals and be on our way.
Assailant on the docks, you say? What troubles did you run into down there, Rougar, my friend?
Percy takes another look at the blade to see if he can discern anything it might have to do with an assailant or any skulduggery whatsoever.
The blade is well made, but with no marks obviating the maker. There is a faint trace of dried blood, but most of it has been wiped clean.
Other people in the tavern are going about there business, uninterested in whatever it is that the new comers are discussing in low voices. The bar tender is recording her stock on a piece of parchment with a thin piece of charcoal.
The dwarves roar with laughter and they clank their flagons together noisily.
There has been a murder, dear Percy, down at the docks. A merchant, a purveyor of magical items, though I did not get to see his wares, was attacked by a woman yellowtail, as you call them. At least, she was wearing the uniform of one. This was the blade that struck the blow. I happened to be by his side when it happened and was able to knock the blade loose during the commotion.
I do not know what the meaning of the attack was, but a certain jug in the merchant's possession seemed to be their goal. I have hope that some clue as to the identity of the attacker lies with the blade
Gill nods aggressively, "Aye and the b~!#+ stuck her blade right in front of me snout just because I uhh, got too close."
Gill looks nervously over at the dwarves and tightens his hood better around his face.
"Need to empty the ol'dragon, going to see if I can't find somewhere to go, I'll return."
Gill hops down from his chair and makes a b route to the bar first nonchalantly circling the dwarf table and trying to, from afar get a read on their wealth/equipment status.
Never liked dumb loudmouth dwarves, always thinking Gill some kind of rodent needing to be squashed.
Sóru sips on his flagon of ale as he reads through his spellbook, idly turning the pages as if he's read them a hundred times before. He tucks his feet up beneath him on the chair, rests the book on his knees, and continues to read.
Gill shrugs and moves on to the bar, "Ello there love, might your fine place of bidness have a privy? I must releave myself."
Rougar hefts the blade from the table and slides it back into his sack, safely between the folds of his blanket. He finishes the remainder of his ale and stands from the table, wiping crumbs from his robe.
I must go see the barmaid about some traveling food. I'd like to then go visit the vendor, if you are ready, Percy.
Turning towards the bar, he saunters up next to Gill and speaks to the woman there.
Excuse me, I would like to purchase some food fit for traveling. Meats, cheese, and bread if you have it. Wrapped, if possible. I'd like enough for a few meals.
"Latrine's out back," She jabs her thumb towards the back of the building, "although it's more just a hole in the deck. And yes, I've got some food I could sell you to take away. Salted fish and bread, sound passable? Five silver pieces per day, which is about a fish and a half a loaf of a sweet bread. The shredded up root inside keeps it fresh a little longer then my soda bread, but hence the higher price."
Percy wonders whether he knows anything about the jug or the slain merchant...
Yes, that will do very nicely
Rougar then slips his hand in a pocket and pulls out 2 gold coins. He hands these coins to the woman.
I'll take four days worth
Gill excuses himself and goes and uses the latrine after which he heads back to the table.
Gill approaches the table and gives an affirming nod an glance to each of his new friends.
"Well should we wait no longer and get on to yer friend? Or do ya wanna wait til the morrow?"
Gill crosses his arms and impatiently taps his finger on his elbow.
Yes, well... we should go now if we are to see him tonight. I hate to call on someone too late in the night. Percy downs the rest of his ale. Come, my new found friends. Let us stroll out into the night.
Percy stands, pushes in his chair and grabs his bag, which he straps around his back. He waits for the others and then makes for the exit.
Slipping one of the wrapped bundles of food into an empty pocket, Rougar puts the remaining three into his sack then ties the sack to his belt.
He follows behind Percy our of the tavern.
Gill gleefully pulls up his britches an trots out the door in step with the others.
"Maybe our music man can play us a jaunty walking tune?"
Gill smiles with a pleased expression.
Outside the sun is beating down and a salty wind blows about the docks. The same various types as seen before are going about their business. To the east the docks stretch before you, with half a dozen small buildings standing alone. To the north the docks become more dense, as do the buildings before reaching the shore and the residential town. Beyond the town to the east, the coast stretches for a few miles before curving south. That far side of the harbor is bare and serene, wobbling in the distorted light of heat from the sands. To the north west the rigid, utilitarian tower juts above the town. Almost directly west a lighthouse can be seen on a risen cliff a mile or so away from the west end of the docks. Seagulls wheel and caw. A few of the gulls peck about on the deck looking for scraps.
Gill stretches out his curved figure while walking and looks around at his new met companions.
Hm haven't been with these fellows long but without doin anything already I am to make a clean sack of gold... Maybe Gill should stick around to see if profit continues.
Gill smiles up at his companions and lifts his face toward the sun closing his eyes, basking in the heat as he walks, "Well fellows after we split dis loot what to do next? Gill could use some sleep but tomorrow the road is open as far as I see."
Sóru looks up from his spell book to see his new friends leaving, sighs and makes his way towards the door.
I have no idea why I'm still with these people, but perhaps they can help me regain my memory. We shall see in time.
Percy casts Summon Instrument and a beautiful golden harp materializes in his arms.
This one, I call: "Behold the Blackened Boar," it is one I learned in my school days. I think ye will find it pleasant.
Percy goes on to strum his harp at an andante tempo. It is a quaint melody with a repeating bass line that gives the group a nice pace to their step. Percy takes the lead, and heads down the dock to the east.
Enjoying the music, Rougar looks around at his companions.
I do have to admit, Gill, that I don't have much of an idea of what to do. Hopefully, the fellow we are going to meet will have something for us beyond gold.
Rougar then slips his arms inside of his sleeves, nervously playing with his hands.
I was hoping we all could travel together some. After all, other than Percy here, we all seem to be in need of something and it has been quite some time since I traveled with anyone and...
Rougar trails off, mumbling to himself, as if he's lost in his own thoughts.
Gill shrugs, "Gill not travel much, this farest I ever go, not know what to do with self but me know Gill wants more of this," Gill pats his gold sack.
"We almost there music man?"
The group approaches a squat single story building. The door sits underneath a short awning and a sign hangs, swinging in the breeze: Commissary Here. The letters spelled out in fading blue paint outlined with a greenish copper.
Ah! Here it is! I was uncertain I could find it in such a sober condition, but here it is, indeed! Now, let's just hope he recalls the camaraderie we shared the other night.
Percy dispels his harp in a shower of light, sparks fizzle out harmlessly on the stone walkway. Percy gives the door a solid knock with his knuckles, rapping five times.
Heellooo?
A nasally voice carries from inside the building. "Yes? C'mon in! You can open the door yourselves!"
Gill skulks behind Percy trying to conceal his presence but not completely hidden and awaits his step eagerly.
Percy swings the front door open wildly after a brief pause.
Braddock, s'that you? I thought you mentioned this was your shop the other night, but my memory is a bit fuzzy. My gods, I must know where you got that salted pork!
Percy stands a little inside the door and smiles widely as he exclaims this.
Inside is a cluttered, disorganized kitchen. Fish hang from twine strung from wall to wall. Barrels are gathered in a corner, some are empty and laying on their side while others have missing lids and wheat or barley spills fourth from the top. Bags and crates are stacked in between. Various unidentifiable meats hang from the ceiling as well in various shades of white, pink, red and purple. A large metal pot sits in the corner on an iron brazier full of hot coals, water is boiling over the top of the pot and hissing on the coats, leaving an moist and acrid screen about the shack. It smells reminiscent of a campfire, but in a humid almost repulsive way. A hatch is in a third corner, with some of the clutter pushed away from around it so as to be accessible.
Another shout rings out, originating from beneath the floor boards, through which, as Percy looks down, can been seen some light and movement, indicating another room below. "Salt pork is up there! But come down here to talk, I'm a bit, er..." A loud smack is heard. "uh, predisposed!"
Rougar looks at each of his companions for any indication how they feel about what is happening, feeling quite bemused himself. After a few seconds though, he returns his gaze to Percy and with a shrug, says Please, after you, indicating towards the hatch.
Yes, I assume he needs some sort of assistance, given the various noises from beneath the floorboards. I must first, however, discover the location of that DIVINE salt pork which I had the honor of sharing with him last night's eve. Excuse me.
Percy immediately turns his attention away from Rougar and the hatch in the ground, and he begins scouring the shop for Salt Pork.
Rougar sighs and turns away from Percy. He stands with arms crossed, looking down at the floor and murmuring to himself while his tail wags with irritation. After a few seconds of this, he spins back around and moves towards Percy, placing a hand on his shoulder.
My friend, I for one can appreciate good salted pork. It is a wondrous thing. However, I would like to remind you that I am in possession of a murder weapon I would like to dispose of. Perhaps we should deal with that.
Rougar then moves over to the hatch, kneels down and lifts it open, indicating for the others to enter.
Percy spots what is undoubtedly salted pork - a light pink slice of meat, ribbed with white, coated in white and black corns, as well as some small green pine needles. The flavor comes back to Percy as if from a dream he suddenly recalled. The tender fatty texture of the meat cut by the sharp and pungent tones. He remembers notes of clove and garlic, dancing across his booze soaked tongue like lively fey dancing across the path between their world and his. How to breach that barrier? Percy knows there is only one way. Saliva pools in the space between his jaw bones.
From downstairs a shuffling, more banging and faint snaping noises can be heard. Who can be assumed to be Braddock grumbles loudly "Damn things. Be gone from my house!"
Percy grabs the peppery goodness known to man as Salted Pork and stashes it in his coat pocket. He then turns to the hatch in the floor, held open by Rougar, and screams down.
Braddock, what in the Nine Hells is going on down there!? I have brought you some fine business this evening, and I don't wish to keep my companions waiting!