More Emerald Guard patrol the streets, checking your travel papers and urging you to get indoors before curfew. You see more guards dressed less for combat and more for ceremony. Some of them carry woodwind and brass instruments, stained with a deep green. Sounds like tomorrow will be quite the show.
You reach the Rockfish Inn and not a moment too soon; the bell rings throughout the city to note the curfew. Daffrid is talking to Yuleg about temporal theory. Daffrid's children are telling Seddothrum many stories and he seems to be a good listener. Tellith is busy cooking dinner. And Vurna rambles to Flitch about their eventual wedding (Flitch clearly hasn't thought that far.)
Yuleg is eager to excuse himself as soon as you approach. "Looks like you have a lot of guests, here. I won't ask for details. Plenty of room for all of them. I think I can load some hay onto the wagon for the big guy to rest his head on. It can't take all of his weight but at least he can rest."
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Ysoldt watches the Vurna and Flitch for a while. She pulls the autographed document from her jacket and hands it to Avonathalanthalasa. "I understand you can copy arcane symbols, so some odd handwriting should be fine as well. Can you try to make use of these? Probably for the people we won't fit into the barrels. Much appreciated."
She then approaches the Vurna with her husband-to-be, supposedly at least - "Hello there, you lovebirds, you. Flitch, go fetch me a bottle of wine, would you? Something not too strong. Just need to get some liquids in me. Take your time. I'll look at the girl's leg."
Once he is on a search, Ysoldt knees down. "Alright, can I see the bite? Any pains?", she continues the questioning for a while while she does the checkup.
"I'll guess I'll sit here with you for a while to clean that thing up. I saw you and Flitch talking. I'm guessing he is not the family type? At least not yet?", Ysoldt tries to lull Vurna into a debate.
"Hmm? Oh. Flitch is just daydreamin'." Vurna hums to herself. Ysoldt notices the bite wound on her leg has pretty much healed entirely. The fever has mostly subsided and she should be at full strength by Friday. "He acts so mild-mannered sometimes! Oh, I never thought about that, Vurna and how many children? That's a lot of responsibility, Vurna and A steady job? I'd have to dress up, Vurna! He and I are going to have so much fun with our kids. Da is always doubting him but I know Flitch is a keeper!" She resists the urge to kick her feet while Ysoldt applies more rosemary.
Seddothrum lowers his head and neck to Makai and Quickblade. "Thank you. Some of the guards loved to kick us for working too slowly. Others told them to stop. But most of them just looked away. Tools break, buy new tools." He grunts.
His flesh is a mix of stone and warm mud. Quickblade isn't sure what to make of it. Makai makes some progress and uses some of the old bedding to bind his wounds so they heal better. He breathes a sigh of relief. "That feels much better."
Vurna's enthusiasm flushes right out as the words leave Ysoldt's mouth.
"Wha? No!" Vurna freezes stiff as a board. "We haven't... Flitch hasn't tried... We... no, I'm not." She clutches a pillow and takes a deep breath. "Once we get out of here we'll be able to live an honest life. Raise up some money, move away from Da's watchful gaze, and then we can work on the family stuff."
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"That feels much better."
Makai pats him on his shoulder and looks him in the eye
"You are not a tool Seddothrum, Torag the father of Creation created you for a greater purpose than to haul stones, mighty one! You have all the right to be free, you have all the right to live as you wish. Stand tall be proud!"
She packs her medical tools, she goes and sits with Pathfinders
"So tomorrow we go to Temolin and Garrla?"
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"Sorry, I didn't mean to be nosey. It's just small talk between us girls, you know... Well anyway - if that isn't the case, he seems a little intimidated by the idea. Maybe let the man breathe a little. Enjoy what you have for now. Push the wedding thing a little further away on the timeline to not scare him off. You know what I mean. Not TOO FAR, but, a tiny bit. Until we get out of here. I'll have a word with him as well.", Ysoldt winks at Vurna as Flitch comes back with a bottle.
"There you are! I'm spent. Let's get ourselves something to pour this in, yes?"
Ysoldt stands up and walks over to the cabinets to take some containers to the tables. "Yes, I'm hoping we will manage to find both tomorrow, so we can actually make proper preparations for this exodus on the day after.", she responds to Makai while she walks by, making a slow circle on one foot, as if practicing something.
She comes back to Vurna and Flitch, and sits down.
"So Flitch... what is it exactly that you do for a living? No need to sugarcoat it, just tell me how it is. I can take it."
She pours some wine and distributes it to whoever is interested.
"Me? Heh. I uh... Well, I scout things out. No one ever suspects me from snooping around." Flitch grins when Ysoldt talks to him. "Usually people think I'm a nobody, and I love it that way. No one to track me down, no overwhelming obligations, no nothing." He leans back in his seat. "No body notices me. Besides Uncle. And Vurna." He looks out into the night sky.
Everyone finds a room or two to sleep in for the night. Avonathalanthalasa takes the many papers, compares it to Flitch's notes, and intuits a few ideas about forging as many papers as needed to cover for everyone.
Vurna still snores the loudest.
Daffrid's children run around the inn, playing "Catch the Prunelord" and "Mountain Climbers" as they scale Seddothrum. He doesn't seem to mind.
Fish, fried potatoes, and ale (or limeade for the youngins) greet you in the morning. Yuleg is tired yet satisfied. "I figured I should cook most of what's left. We'll be eating lightly tomorrow. Besides, there's always a big sale this week, due to the-"
DING. DING. DING. The bells ring louder and for longer than usual. Smaller bells in the neighborhood sound off and you hear doors opening and people filing out of their homes.
Flitch laughs. "Ah, the Emerald March. People in high spirits, and usually too drunk to notice when they drop coin." He pauses when Yuleg and Taffrit tag team and stare him down. "Wh-which I quickly hand back to them, of course. You'd be surprised how rampant thievery can get around here."
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Push the wedding thing a little further away on the timeline to not scare him off.
"Keep in mind girl, Vurna will outlive him like five times. If he sticks to his line of 'business' he might die even sooner..." she shares with Ysoldt
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Makai wakes up in the morning and conducts a quick prayer to Torag the Forge father. She would include the dwarfs in it if they wish.
Then she would help prepare the meal, there is no point in sitting and waiting if one can aid.
After eating something tasty and having a pint of ale. She would pack her belongings.
"Yeah let's go and speak to the man"
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"While that is true... Being together, or not, is their decision. They know the facts...", she gives the pair an inquisitive look - "... or I at least assume they do. Even a sub-par safecracker can always work as a locksmith, or a watchmaker if he is skilled enough. You know what I mean - tumblers, pins or small cogs - a good, steady hand will always find something. Just a matter of determination, I suppose."
The Emerald Guard parade down the streets, playing music, marching in perfect lockstep, and shouting praises to the runelord. Guards have cordoned off the open roads to make room for the entertainment: dancers, musicians and storytellers follow in their wake, paying tribute to their leader.
You are able to reach the ministry of tithes with little trouble, now that the roads are cleared of most traffic. Sadly you still lose time navigating through the crowds.
Once inside, the receptionist escorts you to Themolin’s office.
A portly man with thinning hair looks up from behind several stacks of papers, some nearly toppling from the heavy wooden desk upon which they are perched.
“I-I understand that y-you’ve made an appointment to s-see me. H-how may I b-be of assistance?” he stammers as he hesitantly rises to his feet.
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"Indeed we have sir!", Ysoldt steps forward with her best convincing face. "We are with the Trailblazer Travel Agency, and would like to inform you, that you have been selected - by lottery - to ...", she acts as if checking her hand for some text - "... an amazing, extraordinary, but most importantly TIMELESS vacation. Allow me to congratulate you on your luck, good sir.", she takes some paper and quill from his desk and starts writing something as she continues, slowing her speech cadency and emphasis. "YOU ... were NOminated by ... a certain ... aNOnymous ... benefactor. Will you ... let them DOwn...", she finishes writing and passes the paper to the man behind the desk- "... or accept?"
"Travel plans? W-well, you have to be careful. The guards love to inspect your cargo before leaving port." He stammers, still nervous. "Please, close the door."
”Alright, I think I get it.” He carefully reads the page Ysoldt wrote. ”Tell the benefactor to meet me at 19:00 tonight. I keep a lot of valuable items in my warehouse, and I'm prepared to speak more candidly then.” He exhales and pulls out a pine tree-patterned handkerchief to wipe off his sweat.
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Ysoldt waits for the doors to close, and addresses Themolin again. "Say, now that we have some privacy - you wouldn't happen to have in your possession a state approved stamp for official documents, would you? For permit papers, and such. It would be even better if you had a spare, so that we could borrow one for a day or two. And any other such items to prove validity of ... whatever we would be showing at checkpoints."
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I am guessing that this gentleman will try to pay us with a forged painting. It seems that you can't trust stealing accountants anymore, what an outrage ;)
Makai stands in the room keeping her hands tucked behind her belt. She looks around the room, walking carefully to not bump into anything.
"We can't meet at 19, we need to make it an hour earlier. Otherwise, we will not get to our location before the curfew."
"Earlier? Hmm..." Themolin ponders. "I can t-try to get there before, yes. Maybe I can advance one of my meetings. It will be difficult, but I think it's worth the pr-price. Okay, 18:00 then."
Ysoldt talks to him about a stamp. "Ah yes, I can give you a fresh one. Make sure you tilt it just like this." He stamps a blank sheet of paper, letting the left side of the stamp hit first before pushing the right side on. The green ink smears across the bottom of the page. "I-if you do it wrong, you'll raise suspicion."
It isn't long until the parade picks up in earnest. Various performers use their fans and shawls to surround themselves in a protective formation before bursting forth. Criers regale the crowds of the runelord's ingenuity, tenacity and bravery in protecting Xin-Edasseril with her arcane power. Merchants move through the crowds, selling "official" merchandise, "endorsed" by the Emerald Guard.
This kind of traffic pervades your attempts to reach the guardhouse in a timely manner.
Columns of this wide building are carved in the likeness of Runelord Belimarius. The courtyard is filled with practice dummies, training weapons and other evidence of martial training. Guards are changing their shifts, and a short line forms outside the door of a recruiting area. Some of the others on the line are chewing on mint cotton candy or clutching prop swords.
The black haired woman looks at you. ”It is a good time for recruiting.” A female human guard walks past you to the front of the line.
You notice a sheet of paper on the ground when the woman bumped into you.
Ready to join.
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Jac follows his companions at a bit of a distance, resisting his urge to find some objects in someone's pockets. Catching up with the others, "Have we got time here to speak with the guard before we have to meet in that warehouse, it might be better to head to the warehouse and keep watch. We've got time for the guard tomorrow."
He follows into the guardhouse, but steers clear of the recruitment line, under his breath he says "Amateurs" as he sees them practice their sword play.
Jac nudges Quickblade in the ribs, winks at his friend and nods towards the woman with the black hair...
You follow the guard to the recruitment area, with all of you at the front of the line. ”Alright. Anyone else with questions should be at the back of the line.” It takes a while as recruits ask, get their answers and leave. Some of them are pumped to defend the city, others are excited to wear armor and wield weapons. Some realize they're not cut out for this work. One of the rejected recruits muses "The plays made the service seem more glamorous, you know?"
Finally it’s just you and this guard. ”If you like it and you have what it takes, it can be yours one day soon. Just tell me the time and the place.” She makes a lot of smalltalk, emphasizing the words time and place. as she speaks, Maybe you should interrupt her.
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Makai completely misses the lady guards, she simply follows the others in what they do and where they go.
Makai looks at the recruits and smiles, she looks at the young faces trying to recall how she felt being their age. Before the first time that she held a weapon.
But then she realizes that those people are thousands of years older than she is. They could have tried endless jobs and activities. Suddenly she feels like humans might feel around her, or around long-living elves.
She shakes her head and focuses on the guard. She puts her large dwarven hand on Quickblade arm to stop him from talking
"We came here as our female friend found a note under her doormat. The note stated that payment will be done upfront, and we should come to the Emerald Guardhouse carrying a steel shield." says Makai and waits for the reaction. She wants to verify that the woman that they speak to is the one that left the note.
She gives all of you a curious look, especially Makai and Quickblade. "Garrla? No one here named that. Travel papers, please. Why would you bring a shield to this time and place?"
”By the way, Ellvard is scheduled to work at the docks this week. Hope you have what it takes.” She hands you a black notebook. ”Hope you have what it takes.” She points at the guard stationed outside the door, who has his back turned to all of you. Something tells you he shouldn't see that book...
Quickblade scoops the journal and tucks it in before turning to leave. The guard looks at him and stops him. "Hold on, what's this?" He draws the journal and waves at the female guard. "Hey Kallade. This is yours, right?"
She nods and takes the book back. "Yeah, you know how it is with recruits. They can never follow directions." The male guard laughs and Kallade returns to her seat.
"So, where do we choose the time? And what is the place? Doormats are odd places to put money. I hid money underneath flowerpots when I was younger."