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<blockquote data-quote="Don Incognito" data-source="post: 4680437" data-attributes="member: 81448"><p>Marley raises his hand, indicating for his hired hand to step back.</p><p></p><p><span style="color: Yellow">"That won't be necessary, Ash. We're all friends here. Or, at the very least, allies toward a common goal."</span></p><p><span style="color: Yellow"></span></p><p><span style="color: Yellow"></span></p><p></p><p><span style="color: Yellow">"A paladin? In this part of town? I'd say that you were lost, but you obviously have a sense of purpose. I suppose 'misinformed' would be the better term."</span></p><p>[sblock=Raiyek]Marley's hard to read. He seems genuine, but his smile is that of a politician; there's not telling what could be hiding behind it. You do notice that despite his somewhat advanced age, he seems to be in excellent physical health.[/sblock]</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p><span style="color: Yellow">"A gith, eh? As you are a lady, I would kiss your hand in welcome, were I not sure that I would be disembowled shortly thereafter."</span></p><p><span style="color: Yellow"></span></p><p><span style="color: Yellow"><span style="color: White">The party sits, and Marley begins his introduction.</span></span></p><p><span style="color: Yellow"><span style="color: White"></span></span></p><p><span style="color: Yellow"><span style="color: White"><span style="color: Yellow">"You're all new to Daunton's northern slums, so I'm assuming you don't know how badly you insulted Brynden when you entered his bar. A word of advice; when dealing with those who traverse in our world, never EVER ask a direct question. There's a saying; 'Blades make the best answers'. To question Brynden as you did is viewed somewhere between a direct threat and a particularly vicious insult. Questions are best implied or asked indirectly, never stated openly. Brynden had every right to respond with violence, and he had every right to come here asking me for help, and were situations different, you would all be dead. Things work differently here; we have our own set of rules, and you'd best learn them if you want to stay alive."</span></span></span></p><p><span style="color: Yellow"><span style="color: White"><span style="color: Yellow"></span></span></span></p><p><span style="color: Yellow"><span style="color: White"><span style="color: Yellow">"You all look relatively new to this area, so I'm sure you have no idea what I am babbling about. The slums are ruled by the gangs, and I am a ganglord. The guard don't come to this part of town, so as long as we don't attract too much attention to ourselves, we can do whatever we want, up to and including prostitution, slavery, and murder. There's a rich history of gangs here, dating back generations. Rinch and his Ab-Dead, Hyann's Pack, Gouki and the Iron Fist, the Whispers, the Firewalkers...there are dozens of them, ranging from a loose group of like-minded thugs to organizations with deep pockets and significant social (and, dare I say, political?) connections."</span></span></span></p><p><span style="color: Yellow"><span style="color: White"><span style="color: Yellow"></span></span></span></p><p><span style="color: Yellow"><span style="color: White"><span style="color: Yellow">"My gang is The Reckoners. We do bodyguard and protection work, mostly. About a third of the taverns in Daunton employ a bouncer with a green piece of cloth tied to his right forearm; that's our call sign. I like to think of us as one of the more...honorable gangs around, but I didn't get to the position I'm in by being gentle. I was an adventurer before I ruled this turf, and believe me when I say that I could easily cut you all down without so much as breaking a sweat."</span></span></span></p><p><span style="color: Yellow"><span style="color: White"><span style="color: Yellow"></span></span></span></p><p><span style="color: Yellow"><span style="color: White"><span style="color: Yellow"><span style="color: White">Marley lets loose a chuckle and shakes his head slightly. <span style="color: Yellow">"You'll have to excuse me. Threats are traded like currency here, and I'm accustomed to having my guests quivering in fear.</span></span> Now, I know that you are here about Rebekkah. Girls go missing from the streets every day, and yet mercenaries are rarely knocking at my door."</span></span></span></p><p><span style="color: Yellow"><span style="color: White"><span style="color: Yellow"></span></span></span></p><p><span style="color: Yellow"><span style="color: White"><span style="color: Yellow"><span style="color: White">Marley cocks an eyebrow and waits a response.</span></span></span></span></p><p><span style="color: Yellow"><span style="color: White"><span style="color: Yellow"></span></span></span></p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Don Incognito, post: 4680437, member: 81448"] Marley raises his hand, indicating for his hired hand to step back. [COLOR=Yellow]"That won't be necessary, Ash. We're all friends here. Or, at the very least, allies toward a common goal." [/COLOR] [COLOR=Yellow]"A paladin? In this part of town? I'd say that you were lost, but you obviously have a sense of purpose. I suppose 'misinformed' would be the better term."[/COLOR] [sblock=Raiyek]Marley's hard to read. He seems genuine, but his smile is that of a politician; there's not telling what could be hiding behind it. You do notice that despite his somewhat advanced age, he seems to be in excellent physical health.[/sblock] [COLOR=Yellow]"A gith, eh? As you are a lady, I would kiss your hand in welcome, were I not sure that I would be disembowled shortly thereafter." [COLOR=White]The party sits, and Marley begins his introduction. [COLOR=Yellow]"You're all new to Daunton's northern slums, so I'm assuming you don't know how badly you insulted Brynden when you entered his bar. A word of advice; when dealing with those who traverse in our world, never EVER ask a direct question. There's a saying; 'Blades make the best answers'. To question Brynden as you did is viewed somewhere between a direct threat and a particularly vicious insult. Questions are best implied or asked indirectly, never stated openly. Brynden had every right to respond with violence, and he had every right to come here asking me for help, and were situations different, you would all be dead. Things work differently here; we have our own set of rules, and you'd best learn them if you want to stay alive." "You all look relatively new to this area, so I'm sure you have no idea what I am babbling about. The slums are ruled by the gangs, and I am a ganglord. The guard don't come to this part of town, so as long as we don't attract too much attention to ourselves, we can do whatever we want, up to and including prostitution, slavery, and murder. There's a rich history of gangs here, dating back generations. Rinch and his Ab-Dead, Hyann's Pack, Gouki and the Iron Fist, the Whispers, the Firewalkers...there are dozens of them, ranging from a loose group of like-minded thugs to organizations with deep pockets and significant social (and, dare I say, political?) connections." "My gang is The Reckoners. We do bodyguard and protection work, mostly. About a third of the taverns in Daunton employ a bouncer with a green piece of cloth tied to his right forearm; that's our call sign. I like to think of us as one of the more...honorable gangs around, but I didn't get to the position I'm in by being gentle. I was an adventurer before I ruled this turf, and believe me when I say that I could easily cut you all down without so much as breaking a sweat." [COLOR=White]Marley lets loose a chuckle and shakes his head slightly. [COLOR=Yellow]"You'll have to excuse me. Threats are traded like currency here, and I'm accustomed to having my guests quivering in fear.[/COLOR][/COLOR] Now, I know that you are here about Rebekkah. Girls go missing from the streets every day, and yet mercenaries are rarely knocking at my door." [COLOR=White]Marley cocks an eyebrow and waits a response.[/COLOR] [/COLOR][/COLOR][/COLOR] [/QUOTE]
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