D&D 5E The Light of Civilization - A Renaissance Story

Arcata stared at the fire for a moment, then put a hand on Nicolo's wrist and said quietly, "That's something you should save for more private spots."

It was a little surprising to her actually, that he was so cavalier about summoning magic fire into a room that was made of wood and piled high with flammable liquid. Was he insensitive to dangers? Or was his control just that good? It was too bad he was on such important business! She could really use his insights if he was that much in control of this strange power he had.

The feel of her hand on his wrist sent a jolt up his arm, snapping his attention to her, the fire in his hand burning brighter.

"Private? I don't," he looked around the bar, seeing that he'd drawn some attention. The bartender was eyeing him warily as well.

"I see. Perhaps you're right."

He snapped his fingers, and the fire extinguished. He took a drink and stood.

"How long do you think it will be before the tower is opened? Until it is, there is little more for me to do but wait."

"I don't know," answered Arcata apologetically. "I've never heard of it being broken into before. I honestly can't imagine how something like that could even happen. But I'd expect it will be a while."

She quickly glanced at Lucien again, panicking for a moment that in her distraction she'd missed him departing. He was still there though, for the moment. But she couldn't wait too much longer.

Lucien looked around the room. It was starting to get crowded, unfortunately none of the newcomers were Giovanni. Lucien was starting to get annoyed. The man better have a good excuse for being late. Waiting was not one of Lucien's strong suits. As the next new costumer enters he looks up. Still not his man. This time it was another woman.

Lucien finished his drink cursed under his breath and placed the cup on the table. He had only been here for a couple days and he was already getting anxious. This was the longest he had been in one place since he was a boy. If Giovanni did not show he would need a new plan. Stealing a ship was out of the question and win the city locked up tight how would he leave to find opportunities else where. Lucien looks at the empty cup and now half empty bottle. He curses again and stands picking up his hammer. He grabs the bottle in his other hand. He needed some air, it was getting to stuffy in here.

He walks towards the back hall that leads out into the yard. Stepping out the door and walks around the yard. He can just pick up the scent of the sea on the breeze blowing off harbor. It brings him back to his ship or what was supposed to be his ship. The Kraken's Wake one of the most feared pirate ships on the Narrow Sea and it was stolen from him. He would find the bastard Giacomo and make him pay. With the last thought he slams his hammer into the ground producing a loud crack of thunder.

Arcata's heart stops. Was he getting up?!

"Nicolo...I have to...just wait here for a second. There's something I have to do really fast but I'll berightbackinasecond!"

She slipped off the little stool thingy and went after Lucien. She got to the back doorway just in time to see the hammer blow land, winced at the report of its impact.

"You're Lucien, right?" she said, making her way across the yard towards him. "Lucien Sharp?"

The tavern itself seemed to not mind the newcomers much, even Dominic feeling a little more cheerful when the monk asked for something stronger than water, for Maker's Sake. For his trouble, Nicolo was served a weaker ale: a local brew favored more by the working class who wanted the taste of something hard but couldn't afford to be stumbling through the streets throughout the day.

The issue was the magic: the second the monk's hand had sparked, it had raised several heads over to the sight. While most patrons ignored it, even Dominic cast a queer glance over at his customer, unsure if it would be worth making a scene. He almost thought to ask him for his papers, but disregarded the notion: unregistered Mages had an uncanny habit of being caught and strung up at some point. If the boy was bold enough to perform such a charm in public, he had to be registered.

The rest of the bar seemed to come to the same conclusion, leaving Nicolo alone for now, though it was clear that a repeat of the behavior would be viewed with suspicion. The Thunderclap outside, however, definitely caused quite a stir. Some of the more inebriated patrons shot straight up in their seats, and one or two went to peak outside, coming back in with confused expressions and explaining that it was still sunny as could be. Though it was discussed at length on what the hell had just happened, nobody seemed quite intent on causing a disturbance, not even the bouncers: people were here, people were drinking, and Dominic wanted to keep it that way.


The raven-haired woman was served quickly by the barkeep, wanting to distract himself from the possibility that he had a bunch of bloody mages running around his very reputable establishment. A tankard was set before her, the same local beverage that claimed to incorporate the incredibly floral hops that grew at the base of the Celestinas, as well as a bowl of some type of soup; a cream base, chunks of sausage, onion, and kale as well, all served with a hearty piece of bread on the side.

Between herself and Nicolo sauntered a sailor. Well, he appeared to be a sailor: he had the colorful bandana about his head, the thigh-high boots and a curved cutlass. His skin had certainly been weathered from sun and salt, his greying beard patchy from a life hard lived.

" You were talkin' 'bout that tower, Mage?" he asked of Nicolo, keeping his back to the raven girl behind him, " Nobody is getting in. I heard some spellcaster just waltzed in there! Waltzed, like he was at the Duc's ball! Undid the wards with a word and went in like he owned the place. A mate of mine says he was working late at the docks last night, Captain's pushing the crew like he would one of them brothel girls, eh? He says he hears all sorts of commotion at that tower. Like there was a fight. And they're trying to cover it up!"

He emphasizes the last word by smacking a piece of silver onto the bar, which is quickly traded for a mug that the sailor lifts to his mouth as if he were dying of thirst. When he finishes gulping the drink, he continues, trying to talk and swallow at the same time.

" My friend, see, he says they don't want it getting out because it weren't no foreigner, it weren't no bastard thief: it were one of the Noble houses!"

" Cut your tongue before I cut it for you, Enizio," Dominic barked, not wanting the conspiracy theorist drunk to push away someone who actually ordered food from his kitchen.

" It's true! Me mate wouldn't lie to me!" Enizio declared, settling his wild eyes hard on Nicolo, " They're all so worried about those Toriscan dogs (may their mothers mate with devils!) making a deal with the guildsmen here, and they're out to steal a spell or some artifact from The Before to show 'em who is still boss!"

" That's enough! Leave my customers alone or I'll have you thrown out!"

Enizio sneered at the proprietor, but wasn't inclined to stop drinking and so relented. For the moment.

" Careful in Fossice, boy," he warned Nicolo as he departed back to his corner, " While gold may rule here now, 't weren't always so, and some folks'll do anything to change that."

Lucien tenses for a second at the sudden voice behind him. He quickly relaxes and turns putting on a half smile. He looks Arcata up and down. Not your typical church agent. What could she want with him and how did she even know he was in the city?

"That all depends on who's asking?"

Nicolo just sat, listening to the old sailor. He didn't know how much he should put into hearsay, but it made sense. If someone did break in to the tower, that would certainly push them to close it down while they searched for them.

He looked at the door that Arcata had left through. She said she'd be right back, and for him to wait here, but that crack of thunder had come from that direction. Maybe he should...

He shook his head and grabbed the ale. Putting it to his lips, he could taste the alcohol in it. It wasn't a taste he admired all that much, but he drank it anyway. Perhaps it was an acquired taste?

He drank maybe a quarter of the ale before noticing a raven haired woman watching him, though trying not to seem like she was watching him. He didn't try to hide the fact that he'd noticed. Why would he? He'd always found that being direct was the easiest way to deal with problems, as many problems were simply a series of miscommunications. Well, most of them.

He looks at the woman anew, trying to ascertain who she is or what she would be doing here.

"I'm Arcata," she said automatically, only catching herself before giving her family name. Damnit, if there was a time for a pseudonym, this was probably it. Oh well, you couldn't put milk back into a cow.

"The city's been locked down, but I have a very pressing need to leave. I was hoping you might be able to help."