Thanks all - I'll ping everyone if my bandwidth opens up enough to take this on. Sorry again! I'll mark this campaign inactive tomorrow.
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Hi all - sorry, I've got to give this game up. Things keep coming at me and I don't have bandwith at the moment. I apologize for not being able to keep things going, and I appreciate y'all's participation and enjoyed your PCs. Good luck/good gaming! My apologies again for my RL issues impacting things, and thank you for your awesome writing and PCs!
We've had a mold outbreak in our archives, which is very bad when you are the department head of an archives. So sorry, but I am again rolling with more than I can deal with. Hope to be back soon. Not much in the way of posting these last couple of days so I'll move us forward and away from the ship ASAP.
Alright, thanks for your patience. I dodged the Covid, my spouse's quarantine and previous infection/immunity probably did the trick. Our van is in Las Vegas and being looked at. Our daughter started TK and she's cranky because she doesn't like getting up early. My next tenure file is coming along and due on Tuesday (and then one more after this one and I've either got tenure or have to look for a job :) So, things should start resuming to normal. Thanks again for your grace.
OOC:
The old fishing ship is seaworthy - barely - as far as Annaliese can figure, or at least it will make a good enough barge. Which is both fortunate and not; Castle Korvosa is decidedly inland and the easiest way to reach it would be to travel upstream, against the current, which the old derelict won't do. However, the soldier nods as these constraints become apparent. "Downstream is fine. Citadel Volshyenek is there, and I can report and get orders from the guard." The soldier is right, Volshyenek is as the eel swims, perhaps a half mile. And so, you unmoor the fishing craft, its sails flapping, tattered and useless in the wind, the morning crisp, sounds of conflict echoing across the water; shouts, the ringing of metal, and even in staid East Shore across the river, a rattling boom, followed by smoke that chokes the Jeggere river, obscures your vision. Using parts of the ship's decking as poles, you push the boat downstream, a slow and deliberate pace, staying close to West Dock where the current is mild. The billowing smoke from East Shore keeps you hidden, you make good time in relative safety. Occasionally you hear the collapse of a building, a scream, catch the glint of something flying overhead. But you are safe. The soldier - his name is Grau, Grau Soldado - pulls a pewter flask from under his tabard and takes a long pull, before offering it around. His eyes are ringed with dark circles, he's unshaven; a shaking hand scratches at greying 10 o'clock shadow as he peers into the smoke. "It all lit up..." he murmurs, "The whole city within a couple of hours of the church bells ringing. Like a pot of boiling oil. " Blinking, Grau looks in the direction of Castle Korvosa. "The King kept up his secret affairs to the day he died. Ironic, in a sense, if what I've heard is true - that he was murdered in his sleep by one of his lovers." Falling silent for a beat, he looks to you, scratching again at his jaw. "The Sable Company won't forget this help. I'll make sure of it." OOC:
Ahead, a massive shape looms at the edge of your smoke-filled vision; Citadel Volshyenek the fortress and landmark that marks the southern end of West Dock and the beginning of High Bridge looms. It is quite here, ominously so; for the first time you can hear the lapping of the river's current against the sides of the derelict boat. GM Screen:
Digging through work, hoping to get things resumed by Friday at the latest.
Life still giving me a kicking at the moment. The mechanics in St. George, Utah, couldn't figure out the issue with our van. We're having Ron Burgundy (our van) towed to Las Vegas where there's a VW specialist. We rented a car to get back to San Diego, which lost an under-car plate, causing us to get further waylaid, this time in the CA desert <cry/laugh emoji>. Hertz (don't rent a car from them!) was not helpful and presented us with one option (take a cab from a nearby town to Las Vegas to get another car) - the nearest town we broke down by didn't have a cab company that was willing to do this. We had a tow truck totally remove the plate, threw it in the back of the car, and continued on. Now we're fighting with Hertz about billing. And now my spouse has Covid, so I'm currently on childcare duty while she quarantines and my work piles up (more). We've paid for this vacation, y'all! I just can't see being able to get caught up on games before next week. Sorry again for the extended delay.
All, so sorry. I'm having a bit of a crisis involving a broken 1987 camper van and being in an area without specialist mechanics, coupled with no internet at the place I'm at. I don't think I'm going to be able to catch up until next week. So sorry!
Going to be traveling the next couple of days, will be around Tuesday.
The largest youth blanches, his face emptying of color, and they break ranks, disappearing into a nearby alleyway. The griffon rider sits up, a whoosh of air escaping him as he winces, and brings a tentative hand to his leg. His eyes pass over you, and widen, and then relaxes. "Oi. Thank you. Heroes. My mount is dead, and my leg is busted. Can you help me to Castle Korvosa? The Sable Company won't forget your kindness." OOC:
OK, that's some consensus! Sorry for the delay, this week should not be so bananas!
Before:
The Principle shrugs, his demeanor cool even as rage flits across his face. "Oi, fine, let me go and you can know - deal? It is a glimmer moth, native to my land. You'll find them in the cage over there." The cook nods his head, and sure enough, there's a glass terarium, about the size of a large fishtank you'd see in some of the Minkian restaurants around town. Green vines climb the wall of the terrarium, and mossy logs and slick stones keep the walls of the terrarium beaded with water and fogged. Still, you can see iridescent shapes flit about; their wings the same bright blue of the shiver that makes up the distinct blend of shiver floating about town.
The Principle grins at Darius. "You leech the color of their wings by steeping them in a distilled wash of Plerebic acid, ratio 1:16 with purified water. Neat, eh? My own invention. Well then, cut these bonds and I'll be on my way." The looters stop their advance, eyeing you warily. One large youth steps forward, his fists clenching and unclenching. "Well lookit the goody-two-shoes then! All about saving the day and all that rubbish. And they call this a bad day, hah! This is a great day, chinny?" A rustle of laughter runs through the crowd, nervous, tinged with malice. Sense motive DC 10: Nervous indeed. The looters know they're outmatched. A solid threat or show of force would send them on their way.
Have fun on vacation! We have one yes for intervening, one maybe. If no one else has strong opinions we'll skip the intervention. Work is bananas so y'all have time to chime in. Apologies, I'm pretty buried at the moment.
Just wanted to signal boost this in case it was missed. You are NOT under any obligation to help of course, and that is totally fine!
OK, simplified bookkeeping it is! @Darius, yes it would be 1/2 WBL each level up. You'll get the other half automatically. Also, the artic, cool, cool. I've never been farther north than Helsinki and not further south than the tropics. But cold doesn't suit me, so I don't think I'll every make it to the artic :) Hope it is fun! Today was catch-up, ran out of time. Post likely tomorrow.
Out of town this weekend, will be back Monday. Going to Tijuana for my spouse's birthday. And the tacos. But mostly for the birthday.
Haha, then yes that shield potion would be very rare. It was late here when I posted :) I was thinking, because loot gets tough to track in PBP unless someone commits to being on top of things, going with this system: Everyone gets WBL at level up. You can keep any items you have and want to keep, and that counts as part of your WBL. Anything you don't keep, is assumed to be "sold" and replaced by whatever you want, up to WBL. So basically, every level up, you go shopping and get new stuff. If we went with this system, and you level up in the middle of a dungeon or something like that, we'd probably wait until you were back in a space place to change out equipment. It isn't perfect - it doesn't take into account things like consumables already spent and is a bit immersion breaking - but it does allow for gear customization and saves us all the headache of loot tracking. Thoughts?
If you want to ask Principle anything, just spoiler it and we'll continue any conversation there. How do y'all want to handle the loot?
You move back inside, into the upper part of the Fishery. The reinforced door that Baldy was trying to open leads to a narrow flight of stairs. Junkies lay about in various states of bliss, any signs of Bonekracks - as the Principle deduced - gone, as if they were nothing but flicker of a dream. Which is just fine for the addicts lounging on the street-level floor of the fishery, who seem to have gotten the stash left behind when the Bonekracks vacated the premises. The addicts, many of them deep into a stupor, prove more difficult to rid of the site then the noxious chemicals below. ---- Eventually, the laboratory is wrecked, the addicts are sent on their way; your work here is done. You gather up your newly-acquired belongings and return up to the streets from the depths of the laboratory. The first inkling that something is wrong - badly wrong - is the smell of smoke on the air, and the distant (and not so distant) sound of screaming, mingled with the frantic clanging of alarm bells, the clash of steel against steel and even the periodic detonation of arcane power. The glow of flames on the horizon is your second clue. Amid the chaos, you hear the voice of a Korvosan herald cutting through the din: “The King is dead! Long live the Queen!” - only to be shouted down by ragged cries of “Hang the queen!” and “The usurper whore must die!” Through an alleyway, you even spot a contingent of Hellknights clad in dark iron armor and horned helms pursuing a small gang of what appear to be looters. On you rush, and a couple of blocks away, a wing of of Sable Company griffon riders swoops overhead, angling toward Castle Korvosa at a breakneck pace. One of the badly wounded mounts rains blood down on the street around you, before it succumbs and crashes headlong into a statue, the griffon's end coming in the crunching of bone and the toppling of the statue - of the now dead King, fittingly. The others in the flight do not even pause to check on their fallen ally. The rider gasps and rolls on the ground, his leg shattered. Across the street, a group of young men - likely looters - stop, and eye the Sable marine, before gathering their courage and starting towards the wounded guard...
The Principle's goon's avoid your gaze, but as for the cook... he glares, sizing each of you up, before turning to Annalise and spitting at her feet. If you let him speak:
"Do you think that I-- came here on my own? I'll happily leave town, but I can't guarantee I won't be sent back in short order. Or someone else like me will be along soon. It would be best if it was me, however. Because I know you now. And--" The Principle shakes his head towards his beaten toughs, "Obviously, those Bonekracks were... less than reliable, and these two... Well, my organization will need some tougher help. So, you interested?" The Principle's lab contains a plethora of chemicals, the blue shiver making the rounds, and along the west wall, a large terrarium teaming with dream spiders, their silky threads shimmering the lab's torchlight. Of course, they'll need to be destroyed, but Lamm didn't say anything about what was on the guards and the Principle himself. loot:
One masterwork shortsword, one masterwork club, two suits of studded leather armor, one masterwork chain shirt, 3 vials of acid, 3 vials of alchemist's fire (including the one that rolled onto the floor), and 100 gp tucked into a pouch slung around the Principle's neck. See discussion tab for a discussion of loot. It takes hours to clean the lab. As Darius realized when the fight started, there's a lot of flammable chemicals in the room, many of them volatile, and under Darius' direction, carefully disposed of. It seems the Principle was not bluffing - he would indeed have blown the lab if he managed to smash the vial of alchemist's fire before the sleep spell took hold. Next you move onto the ship. Kaio's sharp eyes notice the tripwire before you detonate the alchemist's fire rigged to the hull of the ship, which would have certainly sunk it - with you inside. There is little related to the drug trade aboard the derelict vessel; instead, it seems to have served as the makeshift lair of the Principle. Tucked under a disheveled cot, you find a lockbox, and prying it open some additional loot. loot:
125 more gold, three potions of cure light wounds, 2 more alchemist's fire, one potion of blur, one potion of shield, and a woman's brooch. Made of platinum, and exquisitely detailed, it depicts an imp and a pseudodragon (in a sort of yin-yang pattern); the pseudodragon has sapphire eyes while the imp's eyes are ruby. It's clearly incredibly valuable. The only defect is that the clasp on the back is broken. Appraise DC 20: The brooch is worth 1000 gp.
Just a reminder, since it has been a beat:
So, you're welcome to grab the notes, etc., and leave, along with the cook but that is not what Lamm wants. What are you doing with the two goons? Are they tied up too? Let go? Stuffed in concrete shoes and dropped into the water?
Fear crosses over the Principle's face, and a trembling hand draws a vial from a bandolier crossing the man's chest. Perhaps it is the fear, or perhaps it is his natural voice; a shaky voice, high pitched, climbing higher as the man monologues. "Do you think I need guards? Do you THINK I didn't plan for this? This vial in my hand? It can blow this whole lab, and you in it, into the water below. I've toughened myself. I'LL probably live. But YOU? YOU!!! You'll be CHU--" The Darius's sleep spell goes off. The Principle yawns, his eyes flutter, and he topples. The vial in his hand hits the ground with a clink and rolls, stopping gently against the overturned table. DM Screen:
Setup: Setup: COMBAT OVER
Thanks, Annalise. The demoralize was the difference between him failing the sleep spell's will save or not. Combat over. You've got three captured bad guys. What do you do?
Annalise, rules-wise, the only action with mechanical benefits one can take with intimidate in combat is demoralize, but it sounds to me like you're trying to compel or force an action here? Or is this a fluff check, or are you trying to demoralize? I just want to double check that demoralize isn't your intent before I post. In general, I am flexible on this one minute + rule for other actions with social skills (like compel) if it is within the target's nature and is likely an action that the target would do anyways. This is not that case, unfortunately.
Whoa, I did not know that! I haven't found a firework yet, so I guess I can add self ignition to the "suspects list." Watering is indeed a tall order. Our county and the state has enacted a lot of regulations and we're trying to save as much water as is possible. Rain barrels, low-flow kitchen sinks/showers/toilets, only watering plants before 9 am and after 7 pm, low-water plants (other than the garden), etc. If Lorick and Annalise haven't posted until tomorrow I'll bot them and move forward.
Yikes indeed, and everyone is OK, so things could have been much worse. California is extremely dry right now and fires are no joke in this area. We had a gardening box that we used as a composting bin and was basically filled with really dried old plants, trimmed tree/bush stuff, etc. We're not sure what happened but probably a firework or ember from a nearby firepit got in there. We smelled something odd outside of my daughter's room that evening before bed and looking on the outside of the house (twice) couldn't find anything. By morning it was literally on fire. Well, time to rethink our composting system! Anyways, Lorick and Annalise are up!
DM screen:
Annalise sprints into the loading room, taking in what is happening in one quick, appraising glance, before springing into action () Stout shakes off Kaio's magic, but as soon as she does, her eyes go slack again, her willpower putting up little fight against the mesmer's daze cantrip. Baldy struggles to his feet, and the ruffian leaves himself open to a brutal knee courtesy of Lorick. Baldy's eyes roll back in his head and the man collapses to the ground, hand twitching as he drifts off into unconsciousness. Setup:
We had a fire on the side of my house this morning and I'm a little shook. Thankfully no serious damage was done, and someone driving by let us know the fire was happening in time that we could put it out. Then the fire department came and checked the walls of our house, etc. At any rate, I've been a bit shook all day and only managed two short posts in any games today. I'm going to try and get back to this game tomorrow. Apologies all!
Hi Sarah, yes of course, I'm glad you're on the mend. I'll work you into my next post. I intend to post today, but it is a holiday weekend here so it may not happen.
Getting walloped at work will update as soon as possible.
Darius:
Cathy's first knife spins through the air, slipping off the Prinicple's neck and clattering to the ground, red-stained. The Principle's eyes widen as he clamps a black gloved hand to his neck. Setup: Setup: Stout is dazed and prone. Baldy is prone. The Principle has soft cover from everyone but Lorick. Lorick is in close combat with Baldy. Everyone is one move action/close range from the Principle. The Principle is in a defensive posture (fighting defensively). Initiative: Round One:
The stout woman lies on the floor, her mouth slightly ajar, eyes glassy, as Lorick bounds over her. As the Jaw runs, streaks of force circle by him, one landing with a harsh crack into Baldy, who with a huff gets knocked off his feet just as Lorick's fist connects with the man's face. Groaning, Baldy flails on the floor, as if his body is trying to will him to stand. The Principle fairs a little better; Darius's force missle thuds into him, but the man keeps his feet. Snarling, the shiver cook pulls a small vial from his satchel and drinks it. For a second, his form flashes with a clear light, as if encased in invisible armor. The Principle then flips his worktable with a grunt, providing cover from those in the doorway, and presses against it, arms raised as if to ward off attacks. Soft music drifts through the ceiling above you and chair legs scrape across the floor. Spellcraft DC 16:
GM Screen:
Setup/OOC: Initiative: Round One:
Ok, good(ish) guys and gals, excepting Lorick, are up!
@Cathy, always happy to have retcons for miscommunication. With that in mind, let's wait to hear if Lorick is going to change his action. I'll move us forward tomorrow if we don't hear anything by then (I know his player is pretty busy atm). @Kaio, sounds good!
No worries, Kaio. I went camping - and a much needed break from things happening here - this weekend myself. So, thankfully not the cinema version of Midsummer, and with clear skies and dark skies, quite nice. There's a couple of hiccups with our surprise round/first round actions. I'll think on ways to better communicate things when we're in theater of the mind combat, which will be most of the time. Suggestions are welcome. Issues: Baldy is two moves from anyone, the Principle is one move. So, Lorick can move (surprise round), move (round one move action), punch (round one standard action) as actions. Kaio can cast daze on Stout, but can't reach the Principle. I'm not really sure how to adjudicate 5' steps with TotM, to be honest. Lorick, Kaio, feel free to retcon if you'd like. I'll give a day or so before botting with the following actions: 1. Lorick moves twice and punches Baldy once (we'll use the first roll of your attack).
The woman's face pinches - more confusion? pain? - and she falls to the ground, sprawled out in the doorway. You have a moment - just a moment - to step over her and get into the room. Behind her, the Principle's head snaps up, a growl of annoyance cutting through the nearly silent room. Behind him, the other guard stands mouth agape, one hand fumbling with a sword in his scabbard. perception DC 12:
The door is barred behind the guard at the back of the room, but one fumbling hand is reaching towards it. He'll likely have the door unbarred in a few seconds... OOC:
The bold may act: Surprise round:
Round One:
Excellent! I'm hoping to provide different options for tackling problems and bring the environment into things a bit. Of course, sometimes violence is the best answer. It occurs to me I may not have been very clear with my description of the Principle's two guards. They are foreigners - not Bonekracks. So, Karl has no concerns about their wellbeing.
Karl Bonekrack straightens and looks around at you, eyes flicking from each of you and ultimately settling on Lorick. Ignoring the rest of you, he strings his words out, long and low, his voice rumbling like an approaching storm. "Oi, Lorick the Jaw, Little Lamb. I take it you're here, Lamm ain't so pleased. I dun't know nothing of The Principle not paying dues or whatever, but we dun't want any trouble with yer boss. If it is what you say, then Mr. Principle ain't too smart, is he?" As he mentions the words "The Principle," Karl's hand raises, and waves, as if naming the cook that lies further inside the fishery. "So, I'm gonna let youse through to have your conversation. One thing though: don't hurt none of my brothers, chinny? And the second thing: tell anyone we let you through without a fight and we'll make sure youse all have got one - on our terms, at a time of our choosing. Chinny?" His hand still raised, Karl wraps five times on the wooden door; one long pause, followed by three more quick taps, and then another long pause before the final knock. Nodding to Lorick, Karl Bonekrack skirts around you, ducking out the now open door, his last words hanging in the night air. "Good luck with youse conversation, Lambs." The stonger, wooden door swings open with a creak, a stout raven-haired woman holding an axe behind it. Confusion plays across her face as her words die in her throat. "What is it, Bone--" Behind her, at the far end of the room, another guard, this one a balding man with olive skin stands at attention, his eyes widening. Between them, bent over a small, bubbling pot, is the man that must be The Principle. A wiry man with olive skin and the wearing the flowing garb of a southerner, his attention is firmly on a vial of a brilliant blue compound he is slowly dripping into the blue pot. Darius or alchemy DC 12 or arcana DC 15:
The creation of shiver takes place in stages, including the introduction of several noxious - and flammable - compounds, which are stored haphazardly on a table next to The Principle. A well-placed fire could set them off, doing great harm to the cook. Of course, it would also hurt anyone nearby; anyone say, for example, in a melee with the cook. OOC:
OOC:
Behind the Bonekrack Brother struggling to get to his feet and into a defensive posture, stands another door, constructed of what looks to be a heavy wood like oak, this one in much better shape than the one you just pushed your way through.
Ignoring the ship for now, you creep forward, and find the back door of the fishery to be as weather-worn as the decking outside it; it is little challenge for Cathy to slip a shiv into the door and pop it open, its rotted framing coming apart with a soft crack. The door flings open, you rush in. A loading area lies beyond, a dim rectangular chamber lit by a single sputtering torch. A chair scrapes across the pitted wooden floor as a Bonekrack Brother rises, surprise playing across his gnarled face. His fists clench, the cestuses wrapped around them glinting in the torchlight. Lorick or Local DC 12:
Ah, Karl Bonekrack, a bruiser of some repute. However, four on one are generally favorable odds. Of course, the usual caveats about killing or hurting a Bonekrack apply. OOC:
GM Screen:
Just to clarify - we have a second for going into the Fishery. Do we have a motion? (yes, we'll use Robert's Rules of Order :)
^ Sure and sorry for the confusion! You have a choice of going "left" (to the fishery) or "right" (to the ship). Whether or not the ship is a distraction remains to be seen. (as a design note, I'm trying to add a little dynamic nature to things in the AP. This encounter is intended to work on a little if:then logic, so the ship may or may not be important depending on your actions. I'll go into more detail after things are resolved.)
Added a "House Rules" section to the campaign page with the following: [g]Group Action:[/b] The party can elect to undertake a group action (for example, for stealth). The skill's leader rolls the check, and everyone else rolls to aid another. For those that don't make the DC 10 threshold, the skill's leader adjusts their role downward by -2.
"I'll create a distraction and meet up with you in a bit," Annalise murmurs, and slips away down a nearby alley. Soon, the sounds of yelling and crashing echo down the street. The Bonekrak Brothers look at each other, and one, shrugging, jaunts across the street, leaving only one of the Brothers remaining to work the door. Despite the seagulls and Lorick and Darius's very apparent lack of stealthiness, Cathy guides you down the gangway between the Fishery and the warehouse next door without issue, and slipping into the deeping shadows, you find yourselves at the dockside of West Dock. Korvosa, as a general rule, is higher in elevation than the water below it, and in West Dock this is particularly true, with much of the dock, and the buildings fronting it, attached to the side of a small, at times crumbling embankment that drops precipitously into the water. The Fishery is built out from the embankment, a hidden lower level built on wooden piers. Faded decking, built on barnacle encased-piers, stretches from the lower level out into the Jeggere River. In its better days, fishing boats would have docked here, and their catch would have been received on the lower level, and then processed and moved throughout the city from the warehousing above. The ship Cathy spied is moored to the decking. The small fishing vessel is no doubt no longer seaworthy, though it still floats. Obvious signs of weathering show on the deck as well - whole planks are missing, and the wood is bleached with age and sun. To your left, disused steps wind down to the decking, which leads to a small door into the fishery, itself in disrepair. Waves lap at the wooden piers, the water black in the deepening night. In the distance, a second church bell rings, joining the first which hasn't stopped, come to think of it... OOC:
GM Screen:
I hate how PF handles stealth, and I think your houserule makes a lot of sense. Let's go with it! If it isn't working, we can always refine it down the line. I'm finding that BitD is very cool. I think it works a little wonky in PBP b/c there's a lot of conversation to set things up that would happen in a matter of seconds at a table, which of course drags out. But the system is fantastic, and I agree with Cathy that it turns a lot of RPG conventions around in a way that is much better.
Having some computer issues hope to have them resolved today. Will chime in on group actions ASAP.
So you've got a couple of options, assuming Cathy tells you all what she sees. Reaching consensus in PBP can take a long time, so I'm inclined to go with the two-person action rule, or whatever it is called. Basically, one person suggests an action and another comes in in favor of it, and then we move forward from there treating two peoples' agreement as consensus? Does that sound like a good way to proceed when decisions present themselves?
Shadows stretch across the street, the sun begins to set. Somewhere distant, a church bell begins to ring. Cathyriel:
The Fishery's windows, when there are some, are boarded up with rough-hewn planks, not unusual for a derelict building, when that building is in fact owned, if not used. Like the doors at the street level, the boarding up of the windows is intended to look a little slapdash to the casual passerby, but in actuality has been done with some care and attention. There's little in the way of gaps in the boards, and they are not so rough-hewn as they first appear. Taking a prybar to those boards right now would not go unnoticed.
However, there is something else. There are two levels in the warehouse at street level; the level with the doors and one that sits atop it. This is not uncommon on West Dock, where the buildings that line the Jeggare River perch higher than the river itself, a way to use the natural topography of Korvosa to ward off the river's spring floods. There could be a scaffolding, decking, or even a third floor below street level, which would be used to load and offload ships. And, squinting down the gangway between the Old Fishery and the building next to it - another derelict warehouse - you can just perceive the whip of canvas in motion, the slightest changing of shadow in the deepening night; a sail, most likely, from a ship moored behind the fishery. OOC:
Lorick and Annalise (when she's back) - you may or may not know specific Bonekrak Brothers, including the two fellows outside of the Fishery. If you want to know one or both of them, just write it into a post and we'll go from there.
Blinking, you emerge into the light of a warming, suddenly sunny spring day. The weather this time of year is temperamental - there is of course no guarantee of sunshine much longer. OOC:
West Dock, as you know, is a largely industrial area. Warehouses and fisheries, dye factories, and other businesses cram the streets leading up to the dock; the types of places that the rest of Korvosa prefers being kept far from their living arrangements, due to unseemly smells, sights, and danger. Those that do live by - the destitute, unhoused, addicted, and immigrants - are hardy, quiet souls. They make no notice, and in turn notice nothing. From a distance the Old Fishery looks as if the place is still abandoned. Only on getting close - and knowing what to look for - can you see that the double doors on the street-level entry and the doors to either side of the building are reinforced, and fitted with very good locks. A clear indicator that whoever is inside does not want to be disturbed, but wants to be subtle about it. The street is more or less empty, apart from the occasional wandering vagrant or pack of drovers hurrying to and from who-knows-where. As 7 o'clock approaches, however, the nature of the passersby changes; a small group begins to loiter surreptitiously in front of your target building, waiting. They don't converse with one another: their gaze is fixed on the front doors. Eventually, the doors swing open. The small crowd that had gathered rushes forward, to be met by two half-orcs - Bonekrak Brothers to be sure. The Brothers wear the loud, swirling style of Szarni clothing, all patterns, scarves, and layers. They are obviously armed, but their hands are empty. They check each individual briefly, before allowing them inside. OOC: |