From humble beginnings...

[Grenier]

Grenier says a quick word of some unknown dialect and motions as if he was letting a bolt from a crossbow go into the table. He then places his hand on the table and makes a small area around his hand turn from brown to blue.

"Magic and marksmanship are my skills, and I'm not too bad in a shadow either."

OOC: Prestidigitation cast btw.

 

[Poto Knezer]

Manzanita

Manzanita glances w/disgust @Jeddeb. She doesn't drink or eat at the thirsty gnoll. Instead she shops the markets for fresh fruits vegitables & bread, both to hone her bargaining skills & to conserve her meagre resources.

 

[Manzanita]

Awesome!

OOC: Hey, I finally got my nic to work!

 

[Bor]

A lean young man, in a loose homespun peasant's smock and with a club at his belt, has been listening quietly to the conversation. He rises from his bench and nods politely at the others.

"I don't like to intrude but we're obviously here for the same reason. I'm Bor and you would be... Freeman M'faro, Mr Elderich, and Miss Sparrow, correct?"

I hope got those titles right. These things are so tricky when nobody belongs to Clans.

Bor takes a seat opposite the others

"As for my skills, I'm pretty good with animals but nowadays people mostly pay me to hit things. Sad times aren't they."

He sighs.

 

[Narrator]

To Manzanita: markets

Unfortunately for Manzanita, the markets in Gorsend are pitiful to say the least. The wars may very well be over officially, but their impact has left lasting repercussions which will echo throughout the years. Farmer's who once tilled fields now occupy border posts or lay dead on the sides of the road or beg for food, their farms destroyed.

What little produce Manzanita has been able to find has been of poor quality and close to rot. She remebers well Yolande's proclamation that Celene would remain neutral in the wars and feels an unbidden pang of guilt. The poor people of this land have suffered greatly and continue to suffer as they bore the brunt of Iuz's attacks. Should they have fallen, surely now Celene would be under seige and not a few unkind stares and growls have been directed towards you as a reminder of that fact.

 

[Narrator]

To Bor and M'faro

As the day wears on and you discuss amongst yourselves, in intermittant spurts of actual conversation, you notice that you're feeling a little under the weather. Perhaps it is the ale or the food here, you're not sure, but it's definitely feeling a little hot and stuffy in this dim little tavern and your arms are beginning to itch like crazy.

OOC: Oh dear... seems they've got a touch of Typhus... I did say there were fleas and rats infesting this place and that you had all been bitten... often... it's not MY fault they failed their saves, sheesh! As of the 12th of Planting, ie. on the morrow, both characters will be covered in dark red splotches and will suffer from fever causing a -4 to all saves, checks, attack and damage rolls for an indefinite period or until cured. I said I was a good DM, not a nice one...

 

[Manzanita]

You're obviously good with weapons, Bor. This is a very useful talent in days like these. Perhaps if we have a bit of time, you could give me some pointers with your big spear...er...what did you call it again?

 

[Grenier]

"Sad times indeed my new friend, though please call me Grenier."

Grenier extends a hand to Bor.

 

[Grenier]

"Any of you 'ave a clue as to when this Tarvoden is coming?"

Grenier checks to see if Jeddeb is listening, and once he isn't Grenier continues.

"The less time we have to stay in this run down hole the better."

 

[Clete]

Clete has been staying at the Thirsty Gnoll and has noticed the group of 5 characters conversing with each other and waiting for someone. Up to now, Clete has nervously waited on his own. Then, he approaches Grenier and asks:

"Do you know a man named Tarvoden? My name is Clete, by the way."