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The city-state of Arbil is among the prominent conurbations of the Ophiduan Protectorate, a major political power on the southern coast of the Continent of Tion.
It was founded on a the bones of a previous city-an ancient settlement even the name of which is not known. The impetus for its founding was the psionic artifact known as the 'Spire', an immense shard of crystal soars into the heavens from the center of Arbil. It is said that this fantastic site of pilgrimage for the followers of the God Minds erupted from the center of the planet of Ksaren after the fateful event known as the Impact -- the name commonly given to the cataclysm in which the preceding 'Age of the Sorcerer-Kings' was ended in a single night by the destruction caused by the titanic meteor whose remains rest in the midst of the Impact Sea. The 'Spire' was found by early followers of the God Minds, who had dreams of the sacred site and were drawn to establish psionic monasteries on its slopes.
It is said that there are extensive subterranean tunnels under the city that hold remnants of the Age of the Sorcerer-Kings.
The city of Arbil is a large settlement, consisting of perhaps 300,000 souls. Since its founding, which centered on the Spire and the psionic monasteries of the God Minds, the city has grown considerably. It was eventually enclosed by a large protective wall which divides the areas occupied by citizens of the Protectorate, who live within its defensive embrace, from those settled by non-aligned parties on its outskirts. Within the walls, settlements of the dolorous, gray-skinned duegar and the lithe adonais of the Eternal Desert interject an unusual variety into the majority ophiduan population.
The duegar settlement was founded contemporaneously with the psionic monasteries of the ophiduans, and the two populations became increasingly knitted to one another as the city grew.
The marshland settlements of the adonais are the result of a a trade deposition which became more permanent over the course of repeated expeditions.
The orcan tribes of the waste occupy a district on the outskirts of the city, as well as other non-citizens who have been drawn to the expanding influence of Arbil.
With a seer named Mosephi as its founder and ruler, Arbil’s populace favors the insightful discipline of psionics, clairsentience, over the other five, although that has not stopped the study of the other disciplines, nor has it affected the results of psionic duels within the city.
Because Arbil is one of the few cities of the Protectorate on the ocean, the Maquoran Fleet has shown interest in being the sole source of nautical trade for the city.
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It is the month of Spalis, and the market of Arbil is teeming with activity. Traders from across the territory of the Protectorate gather to hawk their goods.
The teeming market by the city gates is decorated with a large fountain. The waterworks is crowned by an evocative statue of a beast known as an 'eye king'. Its fearsome maw and eye stalks have long stricken the frolicking children of the Protectorate with fear.
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Eleven had paid the market keeper, the coin to get a small vendor's spot.
Pulling up old crates she laid out a cloth on the make-shift table. Placing her Tattooing kit out. Along with Small scraps of paper with tattoo designs and prices on them. Inc pots ready she waited for what she hoped would-be customers.
Eleven herself was covered in fine tattoo work, seemingly from head to foot. Her clothing that of a traveler, a large hat on her head, and a pistol on her hip. She looked rugged and capable.
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Eleven had paid the market keeper, the coin to get a small vendor's spot, there she set out a cloth and her Tattooing kit. Small scraps of paper with designs on. Showing her skills, and prices. Inc pots ready she waited for what she hoped would-be customers.
An ophiduan, perhaps a customer, approaches Eleven_Zee_Alpha, its citizenship in the Protectorate identified not just by his race but by the glistening white toga worn by the snake-man. These garments were held throughout the Protectorate to represent a symbol of the 'opened mind' of those who had awakened to their psionic potential, and were reserved for fully-vested citizens.
The potential customer nods sagaciously as he carefully and unhurriedly inspects Eleven_Zee_Alpha's goods.
"Hmmm... very interesting indeed -- where, or by what, may I ask, did you receive the inspiration for these designs? They are quite remarkable."
Eleven was programmed to not lie, hardwired into her very being, but she had long ago learned to obfuscate while still telling the truth.
A tattoo on her arm glowed blue for a moment.
"Some are old designs I took from my own skin, others I picked up over the years. Where the inspiration for the originals came from I do not know. I simply copy and alter what I see is all"
All this was true, the designs were old, she had taken them from her skin and she had no idea who was the originator or what their inspiration had been.
She picked one of the designs.
"This is a lesser tattoo of Energy projection, it gives you a single-use flame, for lighting things. Useful I am told when one has lost one's tinder box. Would you be interested, 25 coins and an hour of your time."
She picked up another.
"Or this one, one time only, if you are lost it will tell you where you are from home."
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Clothed in blue, you see a tall human walking along the streets, examining different vendors. You see no symbol to denote a deity, and no obvious tattoos or other adornments. Just a simple cloak, with a cloth bandana wrapped across his face. His hood is up, but you can still see the pale skin of his hands, and white strands of hair when he bows his head. His eyes almost glow a sapphire blue, but there is no psi ooc work at play here, they are just bright and pure. He sees an elderly man sitting, his skin nearly falling off his bones. Gigar places a single coin in the beggars hand and whispers incoherently. Then proceeds. As he comes to Eleven’s makeshift stand, he looks through the designs, slowly shuffling through them. His blue eyes blink in wonderment as he listens to her explanation. Marvelous, he says, but then he does something rather peculiar, he examines, without touching, he equipment, and notes the sterilizing agents. What kind of agents are these? He asks her.
She smiles at the new customer,
"An inert carbon psionic attuned base with various pigments, mostly mineral and metal salts, once injected they can hold a design or"
She holds out her arm, and the tattoos on it move to form a new layout.
"If psionically imprinted, one can move them at will, even."
She holds out her hand to Gigar. A tattoo some 5 inches in diameter, moves to her hand.
"If the recipient is willing, pass to others. This one has a crystal element and will shine a red light for a short while before fading away. only 25 gold true"
She holds her hand out for him to hold, should he want a demonstration.
Tai Leng walked around the market with an expression somewhere between a grimace and a scowl.
He had some money in his pocket; enough to last him until the end of the week when rent was due at least. After that...the thoughts made the scowl grow deeper, doing nothing to make him look more approachable, in as much as the deep scars etched into his face and bald head would have let him look approachable in the first place.
Punching a superior officer in the face was never a smart move, but Tai Leng would be lying to himself if he said he wouldn't do it again. The bastard had it coming, and no matter what the official rules might say, body contact during a psionic duel was fair game in his book. Raw kinetic energy thrown with purpose; same deal as a Wilder's blast, right?
Apparently others didn't agree. Truth be told, he was surprised he hadn't been tossed in a cell, but "dishonorable discharge" didn't have much better of a ring to it.
Hell with the army anyway. They had it out for me from day one.
He shrugged his shoulders and tried to relax, take his mind off things. Nothing to be done for it now.
Maybe browsing a few shops for things he probably couldn't afford before, and DEFINITELY couldn't afford now would make him feel better?
His scowl deepened even further.
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Gigar looked at the woman’s outstretched hand and politely waved, oh no thank you, he said with a bright smile. I was more referring to your sterilization techniques to prevent infections. I have, as the kids say, Virgin skin. he chuckles at his joke, but still appreciate the way the tattoo moved across her hand.
The tattoo moved back down her arm as she lowered it.
"O I see, that is a good question. I use a combination of heat and distilled alcohol. That tends to remove contaminants."
She looks once more at the gent in fine white clothing.
"And you sir have you made your mind up to have one of my fine works"
Her mind felt the ones around her. Ever since Rosa has shown her the nack, Eleven just well felt them She was happy she had two fine gents looking at her wares. If two came others would follow, she could feel it. Today could be a good day for business. Her coin was getting low and she needed to get more inks soon.
Eleven is odd in some way, doll-like, human almost but something not right, she is too still, her movements too precise. Then it hits you, she takes too long to blink, and the fine metallic sheen in her eyes.
Whatever she is it's not human.
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Gigar nods in agreement at Eleven’s assessment of her techniques, then makes a note in his journal. As he pulls it out, his cloak opens slightly and anyone glancing can clearly see he carries a sickle on his right hip, but on his left is a brown leather satchel with a large Red Cross on it. Once he completes his entry he places it in a small pocket in the back of his pouch, along with the quill. He takes a look about him before moving along, not looking for anything in particular.
Eleven noted the man's bag, which was an old sign and she knew what it meant. She placed his face in memory and as he left she sent to Gigar by means of a one-way telepathic message.
::"Medic, come find me later, I have work for thee"::
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His mind priceless for a moment as the words passed through his consciousness. He thought to himself :: it’s not like someone to reach out in such a fashion, but I’ll return this evening:: and continued on. He didn’t know if his message would be heard, as he has no telepathic abilities, but he has hope.
The tattoo moved back down her arm as she lowered it.
"O I see, that is a good question. I use a combination of heat and distilled alcohol. That tends to remove contaminants."
She looks once more at the gent in fine white clothing.
"And you sir have you made your mind up to have one of my fine works"
Her mind felt the ones around her. Ever since Rosa has shown her the nack, Eleven just well felt them She was happy she had two fine gents looking at her wares. If two came others would follow, she could feel it. Today could be a good day for business. Her coin was getting low and she needed to get more inks soon.
** spoiler omitted **
The ophiduan regards the newcomers with evident interest,
"Oh, no, I'm still browsing friend. Such a lovely market day, isn't it, no cause to hurry."
Tai Leng walked around the market with an expression somewhere between a grimace and a scowl.
He had some money in his pocket; enough to last him until the end of the week when rent was due at least. After that...the thoughts made the scowl grow deeper, doing nothing to make him look more approachable, in as much as the deep scars etched into his face and bald head would have let him look approachable in the first place.
Punching a superior officer in the face was never a smart move, but Tai Leng would be lying to himself if he said he wouldn't do it again. The bastard had it coming, and no matter what the official rules might say, body contact during a psionic duel was fair game in his book. Raw kinetic energy thrown with purpose; same deal as a Wilder's blast, right?
Apparently others didn't agree. Truth be told, he was surprised he hadn't been tossed in a cell, but "dishonorable discharge" didn't have much better of a ring to it.
Hell with the army anyway. They had it out for me from day one.
He shrugged his shoulders and tried to relax, take his mind off things. Nothing to be done for it now.
Maybe browsing a few shops for things he probably couldn't afford before, and DEFINITELY couldn't afford now would make him feel better?
His scowl deepened even further.
As the fine gents startes to engage with Gigar
Eleven starts to pack her things away.
As she does she checks if this gent is using psionics.
another tattoo lights on her body.
Before venturing out into the market Krat takes the time to don a non-descript blue kobold persona; from out of town and here to browse the market for supplies.
Once he's satisfied that he won't draw undue attention just by walking about, the 'kobold' emerges from an alley and begins to wander the market, expressing interest at various stalls, but also casing the place, trying to determine if there's anything worth his time to lift without being noticed. Noticing the interest in the tattoos being sold by a human he stops to blend in with the small crowd to see what the interest is about.
That one's not human. Whatever she is she blends in fairly well though. She's probably worth keeping an eye on if she's sticking around.
Krat makes sure to show interest in the Energy projection tattoo, before deciding that it isn't quite what he needs. "A useful tool, yes, but for now I know where my tinder box is, so perhaps not at this time."
When the 'human' starts to put her wares away Krat moves on to another nearby stall to continue his surveillance.
Eleven looks up at the nondescript Kobold, nodding as she keeps packing and takes no heed of him as he walks off.
[dice=Perception]1d20+8
As she does she checks if this gent is using psionics.
another tattoo lights on her body.
Eleven_Zee_Alpha detects the unmistakable aura of psionic power emanating from the ophiduan.
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Gigar wanders about the market, simply fascinated with all the different races of people clattering about, buying wares, selling wares. He notes a couple of stands devoting to herbalism and medicine and shares notes on the topics.
Near the end of the evening, after seeing if the tattoo vender was actually alone, we casually walks up. Good evening! Did you have a good time here in the market?
Gigar wanders about the market, simply fascinated with all the different races of people clattering about, buying wares, selling wares. He notes a couple of stands devoting to herbalism and medicine and shares notes on the topics.
[dice=perception]d20+9Near the end of the evening, after seeing if the tattoo vender was actually alone, we casually walks up. Good evening! Did you have a good time here in the market?
Tai Leng grabs the kid's wrist, firmly but short of the point of causing pain.
"Now what made you think you could try that on me? Do I really look like I'm that easy of a mark?"
Tai Leng grabs the kid's wrist, firmly but short of the point of causing pain.
"Now what made you think you could try that on me? Do I really look like I'm that easy of a mark?"
With her things packed away, quickly into her side bag, she stood. Seeing Gigar coming back she walked off briskly to meet him. Ignoring any comments by the Ophidian. Once with Gigar she takes his arm and seeks to walk into the throng.
::"No, walk with me, I need to lose that Ophidian"::
Not finding anything else particularly interesting in his trip to the market Krat has remained near the tattoo seller, keeping an eye on what happens. When the packing up is done and she seems to be avoiding the Ophidian that had been browsing earlier by pulling the another human in as a cover Krat nods to himself. Interesting to keep an eye on indeed.
Using the crowd and various booths as cover Krat tries to follow at a discrete distance to find out where the two go next and who might else might be following. He doesn't try to stay close, just keep the pair in sight.
(15 if Krat needs to move at more than half speed to keep up.)
[dice=Initiative]1d20+5
[dice=Reflex]1d20+1
Not finding anything else particularly interesting in his trip to the market Krat has remained near the tattoo seller, keeping an eye on what happens. When the packing up is done and she seems to be avoiding the Ophidian that had been browsing earlier by pulling the another human in as a cover Krat nods to himself. Interesting to keep an eye on indeed.
Using the crowd and various booths as cover Krat tries to follow at a discrete distance to find out where the two go next and who might else might be following. He doesn't try to stay close, just keep the pair in sight.
[dice=Stealth to follow without being noticed]1d20 + 15 (15 if Krat needs to move at more than half speed to keep up.)
[dice=Perception to see if anyone else is paying attention/following]1d20 + 9
There are some rather despondent looking dromites that are huddling against the city's thick outer walls -- perhaps refugees from slavery in the distant southern continent of Femon newly arrived to Tion's shores?
Not finding anything else particularly interesting in his trip to the market Krat has remained near the tattoo seller, keeping an eye on what happens. When the packing up is done and she seems to be avoiding the Ophidian that had been browsing earlier by pulling the another human in as a cover Krat nods to himself. Interesting to keep an eye on indeed.
Using the crowd and various booths as cover Krat tries to follow at a discrete distance to find out where the two go next and who might else might be following. He doesn't try to stay close, just keep the pair in sight.
[dice=Stealth to follow without being noticed]1d20 + 15 (15 if Krat needs to move at more than half speed to keep up.)
[dice=Perception to see if anyone else is paying attention/following]1d20 + 9
[dice=Initiative]1d20+5
[dice=Reflex]1d20+1
Tai Leng shrugs as the kid wriggles free before he can get a real grip on him. He takes a bit to move his coin to the inside of the jacket where it's harder to access, and keeps browsing around.
She does as Gigar says,
An ophiduan, perhaps a customer, approaches Eleven_Zee_Alpha, its citizenship in the Protectorate identified not just by his race but by the glistening white toga worn by the snake-man. These garments were held throughout the Protectorate to represent a symbol of the 'opened mind' of those who had awakened to their psionic potential, and were reserved for fully-vested citizens.
When the pair he's trailing take a quick turn Krat frowns at the movement. Looks like I've been spotted. Well, it's not the plan, but also not the end of the world, time to adapt.
The kobold moves behind a stall he believes no one is watching and one round later a small dromite emerges, looks around and continues in the same direction.
Without moving too quickly, the dromite now tries to blend in the crowd again, and turns where he last saw the pair disappear, his keen eyes scanning the scene for signs of them.
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An ophiduan, perhaps a customer, approaches Eleven_Zee_Alpha, its citizenship in the Protectorate identified not just by his race but by the glistening white toga worn by the snake-man. These garments were held throughout the Protectorate to represent a symbol of the 'opened mind' of those who had awakened to their psionic potential, and were reserved for fully-vested citizens.
[dice=Sense Motive vs DC 14]1d20 + 7
When the pair he's trailing take a quick turn Krat frowns at the movement. Looks like I've been spotted. Well, it's not the plan, but also not the end of the world, time to adapt.
The kobold moves behind a stall he believes no one is watching and one round later a small dromite emerges, looks around and continues in the same direction.
[dice=Disguise to look like a nondescript dromite]1d20 + 8 + 10 - 2
Without moving too quickly, the dromite now tries to blend in the crowd again, and turns where he last saw the pair disappear, his keen eyes scanning the scene for signs of them.
[dice=Stealth to follow at more than half speed]1d20 + 15 - 5
[dice=Perception to find Eleven_Zee_Alpha and Gigar]1d20 + 9
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[dice=Initiative]1d20+5
[dice=Reflex]1d20+1
Tai Leng shrugs as the kid wriggles free before he can get a real grip on him. He takes a bit to move his coin to the inside of the jacket where it's harder to access, and keeps browsing around.
[dice=Perception]1d20+8
The diminutive dromite has a small, purplish slug at the base of the neck of the. Only the slight pulse of the slug gives evidence that it is alive.
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Rushing through the market there was no stealth check, once we turned off the street and down the alley I direct her to make an immediate right and push Eleven up against the wall. My back to her holding my arm to keep her back. I draw the sickle from my side and prepare to pounce on whomever comes around the corner following us. I’ll whispers over to her. we don’t have much time, what in the gods is going on here?