Riddleport is a dirty,chaotic and full of criminals Varisian city.Its street are crowded with low life,masses of thieves,thugs,prostitutes,lepers,outcasts,addicts,cultists,beggars,pirates and many more of the same kind of inhabitants.
Yet the fact that its boundaries accept anyone regardless of status, wealth and criminal records keep drawing people within its docks and quarters.
In the present times, more than usual.
It is some weeks that a giant cloud-like dark atmospheric phenomenon floats over the city covering most of the sky, twisting, shifting and moving more or less in circle with no apparent relation to winds.
This has brought scholars and sages from Magnimar for the most;they have argued over the source, nature and implications of this shadow, but more than anything else, they have swollen the city's population, and the numbers of little crimes and thievery.
But Riddleport isn't only this ; many of its facilities offer fun, relax and much more depending on their nature.Many scholars and adventurers stop here as an obligatory stage before continuing their exploration of Varisia.
And you are here, in the Wharf District.
Welcome to Riddleport.
It is Oathday, 12 Desnus
But, more than the “Shadow in the sky” what brought you here is the great event that will be going on this evening at the “Golden Goblin Gambling Hall”.
The bilding lies at the borders of the Wharf District,and it stood unused and empty for long time, before some “Saul Vancarskerkin” bought it and launched this event called “Cheat the Devil and take his gold” to bring the hall back to its old glories.
But you have about half a day around the district before the event starts.
Riddleport map ; you start at the Wharf District, number "9" on the map.
Sanya stretches and warms her muscles after getting up, a necessary habit in Whithethrone to get mobile in the morning. While the climate in Riddleport is much friendlier she still does her morning routine out of a behavioural pattern.
Yawningly she packs her belongings and strolls down into the taproom of the cheap inn she spent the last two nights in.
She orders a mug of mead and takes it with her out on the street.
Blinking into the sun, Sanya throws her hair back and makes a braid.
Speaking mostly to herself she mumbles
Well, OK it's ugly and it smells strange, but it's better than prison...at least for now.
After amoment of pondering Sanya walks down to the docks to take a look at the ships entering and leaving the harbour.
Noticing the glances the men shoot her, Sanya begins to feel uncomfortable for a moment but then she just shrugs and moves even more provocative for a few steps, turns round to the most ugly of the watching guys and calls laughingly (underestimating the danger that goes along with that statement)
Ok enough of what you can never have, I think you have to stick to the girls that look and smell like fish
"Excuse me beautyful lady" he starts in Taldan "are you looking for work; i'm asking because such gorgeous ladies like you usually don't wander 'round here, not alone at least"
Daily prayer was always Darius' way of preparing himself for the darkness that he found growing in the world. His connecting with his god, Iomedae, brought him the strength he needed to wield the sword of her righteousness.
After washing, with the small bowl of water he had the inn keeper send up, and gathering his gear, the man makes his way down the stairs to the buildings main hall. He learned long ago to never leave his belongings in his room.
Making his way to the street, Darius pulls his cloak tighter around him as a cool breeze blows off the water. Darius is a trusting man, believing each person deserves a chance to show their worth before judging them. . .but he is no fool. He is careful to keep one hand on his money pouch and one hand on his sword.
He strolls about the area watching the people and eventually makes his way down to watch the boats coming and going.
Sanya turns round to look if he really meant her.
Nethys speed you, sweetie!
Eyeing the man from head to toe she asks tauntingly
Am I looking for work? Surely not the kind of work you have to offer, mhh?
She goes on in a more serious tone
Or am I mistaken and you have a really interesting offer?
Gysseannia woke up in her hammock in the passenger cabin of the Seagull. She could hear the sounds of the crewmen as they were making to heave to at the docks. She grabbed up her belongings and made her way up to the main deck. There were sailors everywhere, throwing lines and rigging sails. 'Get out of the way, blasted elf!' Roared Captain Fraccelli. 'Move to the wheel with the other gawkers if you must be up here!' He bellowed.
Gysseannia ran to aft up to the wheel and the other passengers before she realized the city of Riddleport was staring her in the face. It was a huge city, filled with people. She wrinkled her cute button nose at the foul smells wafting to her on the breeze. 'Is this how human lands smell?' 'Only in the cities and towns, lass. Once you get out into the country you'll know sweet smells again.' One of her fellow fares answered. 'Oh! I hadn't realized I said that out loud. My apologies if I caused insult.' 'Ha! You said only the truth, lass. Can't help but notice the stench.' Replied another passenger.
The bustle of the docks captivated Gysseannia. So many people scrambling about while others seemed to be strolling along and still others were barking out orders just like Captain Fraccelli. The sights and sounds kept her enthralled throughout the ship docking. It wasn't until the captain poked her on the shoulder that she realized she was alone on the deck. Everyone else had already disembarked. 'Go on, girlie. You don't get to know the city by staying out of it.' He chided her.
Gysseannia looked down to make sure she was all there. She had her hand crossbow firmly attached to her hip, rapier hanging from her belt. She felt all of her daggers as her leather gloved hands patted herself down. Her leather vest covered most of her chain shirt and matched the dull brown of her leather breeches and boots. Her cloak was billowing in the steady breeze and she pulled down her floppy brimmed hat to cover her eyes. She looked up at Captain Fraccelli. 'Thank you for the speedy trip, sir. I hope you always encounter calm seas and strong winds. Good day, captain. At that, Gysseannia strode down to the main deck, across the plank and into the city.
The bosun, Massimo, approached as Captain Fraccelli watched Gysseannia depart. '[b]Aye, sir, that's a fine piece of feminine wiles what saunters away. Too bad that she-elf is so cold and distant..' The captain looked at Gysseannia. He could see her long curly black hair falling out of her hat. Her fascinating indigo orbs flashed as she turned back to wave goodbye. Overall, she was indeed a fine female specimen. 'That, mister, is no elf.' He responded. Massimo looked to her and then back to his captain. 'She sure looks like an elf.' He responded. The captain nodded at Gysseannia. 'Never noticed how her shadow dances around?' Massimo took a hard look at her. 'I don't see her shadow moving. In fact...' His eyes widened. 'She ain't got no shadow!' Captain Fraccelli chuckled as he saw his bosun making the sign to ward off evil. 'Sir! You knew she was a demon and you let her stay aboard?' He asked increduously. Fraccelli responded, 'Made my best time ever on this trip. Couldn't throw away good luck, could I? Besides, she does have a great stern. Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!' Captain Fraccelli guffawed at the disbelieving look from his poor befuddled bosun.
Gorag enters Riddleport through one of the city gates. It takes him a long negotiation to convince the guard that he isn't an scout for the mountain tribes, but a wandering alchemist.
He then wanders the streets of the wharf district to make himself familiar with the city, before going to find his friend at the gambling event.
Sanya turns round to look if he really meant her.
Nethys speed you, sweetie!
Eyeing the man from head to toe she asks tauntingly
Am I looking for work? Surely not the kind of work you have to offer, mhh?
She goes on in a more serious tone
Or am I mistaken and you have a really interesting offer?
The first thing that catch your eyes while looking at the docks is one of the main reasons so many travellers visit Riddleport, the Cyphergate that encircles the entrance of the bay.It is a massive,350 ft (115,30 mt) high above the water, arch made of some unknown kind of stone which sides bear massive runes and glyphs.
The rest of the sight is the rocky harbor with its usual traffic of various ships.
And the giant dark cloud that never seems to leave the sky over the city
Daily prayer was always Darius' way of preparing himself for the darkness that he found growing in the world. His connecting with his god, Iomedae, brought him the strength he needed to wield the sword of her righteousness.
After washing, with the small bowl of water he had the inn keeper send up, and gathering his gear, the man makes his way down the stairs to the buildings main hall. He learned long ago to never leave his belongings in his room.
Making his way to the street, Darius pulls his cloak tighter around him as a cool breeze blows off the water. Darius is a trusting man, believing each person deserves a chance to show their worth before judging them. . .but he is no fool. He is careful to keep one hand on his money pouch and one hand on his sword.
He strolls about the area watching the people and eventually makes his way down to watch the boats coming and going.
Rast woke from his bed with a groan. Taking a look around with blurry eyes, he attempts to focus through the hangover as he starts picking out familiar objects form his face down position. A stray mug on the ground, a familiar oak trunk and the accompanied sounds of fellow snoring clerics helped Rast to realize that we was in the bunkhouse of the Publican House. What a night of revelry, Cayden must be feeling good, because I feel pretty bad. He thought to himself as he tried to get up. He had gladly taken to his faith, but he had yet to learn the moderation that higher ranking clerics seemed to possess. As it was, he wasn't even suppose to be sleeping in his own bunk, having rented a place near the Wharf District, part of evey acolyte's test of faith and ability to live away from the support of their fellow clerics. However, after every festival held at the House, he always seemed to end up back in the bunks he had known so well. Hearing someone enter, he is suddenly woken up with, "Alright boys!! Time to get up, got plenty to do. Besides, some of you have your own place ta be heading back to!" That was Janver for you, kind, but blunt. Pushing himself out of bed, he stood up and waited as the world spun around him. Once the world was back in its proper place, Rast put his clothes on, gathered his things and headed out into the Riddleport streets.
Heading towards the Wharf District, he smiles to those who pass him though he also keeps a vigilant eye on those around him. Rast loved his city, but he would be a fool to not protect himself from the disreputable elements of the city. Arriving at his home in the Wharf District, the hungover cleric begins mixing different ingrediants into a pot with a bit of ale. Then, downing the concoction in on gulp, gasps for a moment as the vulgar fluid goes down, helping to clear his system and fight off the effects of last night's festival. Then taking a bath, and donning his armor and rapier, he heads out for a meal.
Strolling though the Wharf markets, he glances up at the blot that had marred the skies for sometime. It was still a mystery to him, but not one he would want to try and figure out. Let the Cyphermages figure that one out and they can tell me when they do. Looking back to the streets around him, he notes an exotic beauty as she denies the advances of a finely dressed man. Must be one of the Silken Veil's protitutes, if not, I sure she will be shortly. He had visited the House of the Silken Veil on many occasions, making sure to leave his dues when owed and enjoying the company of the many priestesses there, both intellecually and physically.
After spending some time in the markets, talking with the people there, Rast makes his way to the Golden Goblin where he promised a friend he would meet him and show him the wonders of Riddleport.
Darius watches the woman leave the ship. Quite fair. He thinks to himself. His eyes go from her to the sailors talking and laughing on the boat, then back to the woman.
The feeling does not hit him until she turns back to wave at the men. He has seen her kind before. He was trained to see them.
Not wanting to lose her in the crowds of people, he quickly shoves the uneaten remains of his lunch into his pack. Careful to stay back far enough not to rouse suspicion, he follows her to see where she might lead.
"Hey Cutiey, new from round hre not? And lookie at wht strnge face and shdow of yors....You dunt happen to know sumeone calld Lavender Lul or similar?"
The one talking doesn't look very friendly, and of course he smells like some one who hasn't had a bath for the last month, his mates are of the same kind,and they look like they are eager to start a brawl
Darius watches the woman leave the ship. Quite fair. He thinks to himself. His eyes go from her to the sailors talking and laughing on the boat, then back to the woman.
The feeling does not hit him until she turns back to wave at the men. He has seen her kind before. He was trained to see them.
Not wanting to lose her in the crowds of people, he quickly shoves the uneaten remains of his lunch into his pack. Careful to stay back far enough not to rouse suspicion, he follows her to see where she might lead.
Sanya raises one eyebrow
Show skin, mhh? I will think about your or Mr. Vancaskerkins offer respectively.
Sanya nods and walks on, pondering if she ever heard the name Vancaskerkin, if not she will ask the next passer-by.
Saul Vancarskerkin has been a criminal lord of Riddleport, and one that changed frequently flags and allegiances ; at least until his son Orik got involved in some kind of sexual scandal with a local prostitute called Lavender Lil. They were aided by a local alchemist , Falk Zincher who was murdered and witnesses told Orik was seen nearby.Saul tried to get help from his other son Verik, who instead fled Riddleport.The fact is the alchemist Zincher was the brother of one of the bosses of the city, Clegg Zincher who swore revenge on the Vancarskerkin. In the end Saul's house and wife were took away by fire while he was trying to flee from Clegg, but was caught and processed.
Under request of Clegg, the Overlord reduced his penalty to heavy fines and one hand cut away.
In the last years thought Saul managed to slowly and painfully rebuild his fortune, and lately he bought and restored the “Golden Goblin Gambling Hall”
The same Clegg Zincher publicly said that Saul already suffered enough, and paid his dues, so he is no longer bearing him grudge.
Thinking to herself Sanya considers the new information
a one armed crime lord in his final attempt to regain his power...maybe this one is desperate enough to pay wages, no one else would...I should look for a nice dress...
Sanya decides to look for a millinery to buy a nice dress for the evening.
Desna smiles, what a wonderful piece of clothing for such a lapidary price.
Exhausted of shopping Sanya changes her clothing and strolls slowly to the direction of the gambling hall, hoping Desna stays with her the whole evening.
Darius knows that the woman is not all she appears to be, but he senses no evil about her and the damsel in distress scenario is too strong a pull at his heroic sensibilities.
He quickly moves to intercede. "Is there a problem, gentlemen?"
The old dwarf has been sleeping in an alley near the wharf, since he didn't know when will he be able to work again. There is not much demand for old and ugly dwarven sergeants, lacking social graces. He spent some time methodically working cricks and kinks out of his neck before he spat on the ground and put his scale armor on. "Hmmm... another rent", he murmured, and then sighed quietly. "I really need to find some work as soon as possible." He gathered his pack, shield and axes, and went out of the alley, hawking up a great gob of spit along the way. For a moment, old dwarf paused watching folk of various races bustling along, buying food or clothes, arguing and shouting. "Well, let's see what this day brings."
Darius knows that the woman is not all she appears to be, but he senses no evil about her and the damsel in distress scenario is too strong a pull at his heroic sensibilities.
He quickly moves to intercede. "Is there a problem, gentlemen?"
The old dwarf has been sleeping in an alley near the wharf, since he didn't know when will he be able to work again. There is not much demand for old and ugly dwarven sergeants, lacking social graces. He spent some time methodically working cricks and kinks out of his neck before he spat on the ground and put his scale armor on. "Hmmm... another rent", he murmured, and then sighed quietly. "I really need to find some work as soon as possible." He gathered his pack, shield and axes, and went out of the alley, hawking up a great gob of spit along the way. For a moment, old dwarf paused watching folk of various races bustling along, buying food or clothes, arguing and shouting. "Well, let's see what this day brings."
-
Rast woke from his bed with a groan. Taking a look around with blurry eyes, he attempts to focus through the hangover as he starts picking out familiar objects form his face down position. A stray mug on the ground, a familiar oak trunk and the accompanied sounds of fellow snoring clerics helped Rast to realize that we was in the bunkhouse of the Publican House. What a night of revelry, Cayden must be feeling good, because I feel pretty bad. He thought to himself as he tried to get up. He had gladly taken to his faith, but he had yet to learn the moderation that higher ranking clerics seemed to possess. As it was, he wasn't even suppose to be sleeping in his own bunk, having rented a place near the Wharf District, part of evey acolyte's test of faith and ability to live away from the support of their fellow clerics. However, after every festival held at the House, he always seemed to end up back in the bunks he had known so well. Hearing someone enter, he is suddenly woken up with, "Alright boys!! Time to get up, got plenty to do. Besides, some of you have your own place ta be heading back to!" That was Janver for you, kind, but blunt. Pushing himself out of bed, he stood up and waited as the world spun around him. Once the world was back in its proper place, Rast put his clothes on, gathered his things and headed out into the Riddleport streets.
Heading towards the Wharf District, he smiles to those who pass him though he also keeps a vigilant eye on those around him. Rast loved his city, but he would be a fool to not protect himself from the disreputable elements of the city. Arriving at his home in the Wharf District, the hungover cleric begins mixing different ingrediants into a pot with a bit of ale. Then, downing the concoction in on gulp, gasps for a moment as the vulgar fluid goes down, helping to clear his system and fight off the effects of last night's festival. Then taking a bath, and donning his armor and rapier, he heads out for a meal.
Strolling though the Wharf...
-1d20+8
Darius and Gysseannia
One of the thug is about to move to put himself between you and the girl, while his friends put their hands on the hilts of the daggers hanging from their belts.
The man that was speaking with the girl turns to you :
"OH!! who 'ave we hre, a herro? Look man, ths none of yur bsness, yo better wulk away while yo still can do it on yur own legs"
As Rast made his way to the Golden Goblin, he spotted the same white-skinned beauty he had spotted earlier in the markets, this time though, she was sporting a flattering dress. Seeing that she was heading the same direction as he was, he quickens his pace slightly until he comes up along side her. Then, in his calm, bass voice, he says, "Lovely day, isn't it?"
Though he spoke with the same eloquence as the man Sanya had met previously, the weeks worth of stubble on his tanned face and the tarnished steel of his chainmail mark him as a man who preferred more down to earth living.
He quickly moves to intercede. "Is there a problem, gentlemen?"
Gysseannia looks to this newcomer. 'About time you got here! Where are Bruno or Iwar and his men? These drunken louts were about make a very serious mistake. I think the fists and axes of a half dozen half-orcs will curb their tongues.'
1d20 + 6
Bombur looks at the street scum and the two newcomers for a moment, and then he sighs. "I hate working for free", he murmurs and then grips his shield a bit better and raises his waraxe. "Torag!", he screams at the top of his lungs, hoping to attract the attention of thugs to himself instead of the girl. "Torag, count the dead!"
Being jolted out of her thoughts, Sanya is a little bit confused at first
Ho, yeah, I mean yes....besides this strange shadow in the sky, mhh? After a moment of silence and patiently waiting if the stranger departs, she adds
You look quite menacingly my dear sir, am I in need of a bodyguard or are you going to drag me into a dark alley? within the last words Sanya twinkles to him and smiles friendly.
My name's Sanya and I think you might as well be a soldier of fortune as Iam, mhh? says Sanya and puts her hand forth.
The man with a last laugh shouts :"I bet yur tongue is good fur somting else cutey....and you stil hve to anwer us.Lets gut yur new frinds then you'll give us sume fun"
"Not today brigand!"
Darius' training kicks in and he moves to place himself between the lady and her attackers. Suspicions of her true self aside, protecting her is his first duty.
-longsword-
-
Gyseannia pulls out a dagger and throws it at the thug in front of her [ooc]C9.
Being jolted out of her thoughts, Sanya is a little bit confused at first
Ho, yeah, I mean yes....besides this strange shadow in the sky, mhh? After a moment of silence and patiently waiting if the stranger departs, she adds
You look quite menacingly my dear sir, am I in need of a bodyguard or are you going to drag me into a dark alley? within the last words Sanya twinkles to him and smiles friendly.
My name's Sanya and I think you might as well be a soldier of fortune as Iam, mhh? says Sanya and puts her hand forth.
Raising an eyebrow, as if perplexed, Rast thinks for but a moment before a deep chuckle escapes his lips. Composing himself, Rast then says, "Soldier of fortune? No my good lady, though it's a good profesion. In fact, the Drunken Hero himself was a sellsword before he took the Test of Divinity." Then, sticking out his hand, and taking Sanya's own, he says, "The name's Rast, cleric of Cayden Cailean." Though he bore no readily identifiable symbol, Rast did have a finely crafted mug of silver hanging from his hip. Then, releasing her hand, he adds on with, "A beauty like you, fresh ta Riddleport has got to be cautious, a few might confuse you with an Abbess of the Silken Veil or wish that you were a Quickwife. And though I ain't one to presume that you need or want a bodyguard, I can play the part, if'n that is desired?" With the last statement, Rast returns Sanya's wink with a friendly one of his own.
While Rast talks, Sanya's gaze wanders around, she obviously tries to soak up as many impressions as possible.
Sorry, mhh, Rast, right? This whole town is so buzzing with life, so alien to me...I get distracted by everything easily. I noticed you learned quite a lot of the slang expressions folks from here like to use, eh?
By the way, having you by my side let's me feel safe, thank you for that.
So, my courageous defender, how did you end up in fabled Riddleport?
Sanya lays her hand on Rast's arm while they walk towards the gambling hall.
The dagger thrown by Gysseannia sinks in the man's throat, killing him instantly.The other three run to engage one foe each, reading their knives and swinging them wildly, but with no results.The man charging Darius only manages to get a deep wound in the chest by the paladin's sword.
Gysseannia takes a step back from the thug who charged her into a flank against the thug attacking the nice man who tried to "save" her. She draws rapier and runs through the nasty thug.
Gysseannia takes a step back from the thug who charged her, draws another dagger and throws it at him.