IC - Mad King's Monkey
Libros isn't currently saving up for anything. So he happily pays 150gp for an ever-burning torch, after testing that it works.
The problem of the Gnolls is harder. Libros is starting to realise that book-learning is not the same as being out in the real world. "So where do we start?" he asked, thinking aloud. On been taken downstairs he continues "Obviously, questioning these Gnolls is the first order of the day."
The problem of the Gnolls is harder. Libros is starting to realise that book-learning is not the same as being out in the real world. "So where do we start?" he asked, thinking aloud. On been taken downstairs he continues "Obviously, questioning these Gnolls is the first order of the day."
On arriving downstairs and spotting the...visitors Bayar grins savagely and cracks his knuckles. "Henri!" he shouts. "Why be there a bear down here?"
Striding forward he stops in front of the chained gnolls and squats, barechested with tattooed muscles on display. Drawing his wickedly curved kukri with his right hand he grabs the closest gnoll by the chin and forces its face towards his own. "Be remembering me and my friend?" he asks softly.
Striding forward he stops in front of the chained gnolls and squats, barechested with tattooed muscles on display. Drawing his wickedly curved kukri with his right hand he grabs the closest gnoll by the chin and forces its face towards his own. "Be remembering me and my friend?" he asks softly.
Fangor the Fierce
First Post
Eban makes his way downstairs, opting to stay near enough to read the gnolls lips, should he have to. Otherwise, he waits to see what transpires.
Scott DeWar
Prof. Emeritus-Supernatural Events/Countermeasure
Jan Maatson looked at the two gnolls and, a bear? "So, uh, What is with the bear, Henri? Can we skin the gnolls alive and feed the skin to the bear?"
Jan starts with a ditty about a lepperchan who skillfully steals information from people only to give empty promises in return.
use perform to increase party's ability to interrogate the gnolls.
Jan starts with a ditty about a lepperchan who skillfully steals information from people only to give empty promises in return.
use perform to increase party's ability to interrogate the gnolls.
doghead
thotd
Back in town, at the Chancellor's residence, late in the evening.
Twelve days after departing from Henri's house in search of the gnolls, the party finds themselves back at the Chancellor's residence. After several days searching the forest with Walter's assistance, the party with managed to find the gnoll lair and rout the gnolls as well as drive off an attack by a group of goblin warriors, lead by the vicious witch doctor Nerrak. Tired, travel stained and a little battered, they arrive well after night has fallen. They carry with them a letter from Henri to the Chancellor, as well as several items taken from the gnoll lair; a number of scolls and a length of bone richly engraved with runes.
Despite the lateness of hour, the party are summoned almost immediately to see the Steward. This time however, he takes them to see the Chancellor himself. The Chancellor, dressed only in a robe over his night clothes, reads Henri's letter carefully and reviews items presented to him with interest. He questions the party closely on their account of events.
After several hours, he appears satisfied, and the party is dismissed. The next day, you are informed by the Steward as you leave, is yours to with as you please. The Steward suggests you use it to rest and recover as he is of the opinion that your services will be required again shortly.
The Steward is right on the money, and early in the day after the next Bayar, Jan and Libros are summoned once again to the see the Chancellor.
OOC: The new IC thread, commencing with the party's meeting with the Chancellor should be up shortly.
Twelve days after departing from Henri's house in search of the gnolls, the party finds themselves back at the Chancellor's residence. After several days searching the forest with Walter's assistance, the party with managed to find the gnoll lair and rout the gnolls as well as drive off an attack by a group of goblin warriors, lead by the vicious witch doctor Nerrak. Tired, travel stained and a little battered, they arrive well after night has fallen. They carry with them a letter from Henri to the Chancellor, as well as several items taken from the gnoll lair; a number of scolls and a length of bone richly engraved with runes.
Despite the lateness of hour, the party are summoned almost immediately to see the Steward. This time however, he takes them to see the Chancellor himself. The Chancellor, dressed only in a robe over his night clothes, reads Henri's letter carefully and reviews items presented to him with interest. He questions the party closely on their account of events.
After several hours, he appears satisfied, and the party is dismissed. The next day, you are informed by the Steward as you leave, is yours to with as you please. The Steward suggests you use it to rest and recover as he is of the opinion that your services will be required again shortly.
The Steward is right on the money, and early in the day after the next Bayar, Jan and Libros are summoned once again to the see the Chancellor.
OOC: The new IC thread, commencing with the party's meeting with the Chancellor should be up shortly.
Scott DeWar
Prof. Emeritus-Supernatural Events/Countermeasure
Jan uses his prestidigitation to freshen his looks and smell as much as possible, helping his fellows as much as possible too.
Scott DeWar
Prof. Emeritus-Supernatural Events/Countermeasure
Jan will scrub eat and sleep, then wait patiently to be summoned.
After the long late night meeting, Bayar heads back to his sleeping cell. Dropping the outrageously overloaded backpack to the floor he begins wearily unbuckling his sword belt and armour. These are placed far more carefully than the backpack with all it's miscellaneous junk attached to it. Exhausted from weeks of hiking, fighting and more hiking , the former mercenary drops onto his thin straw mattress with a groan.
I be getting soft as butter. There not even be a proper battle and I feel like an old man. Shortly he fell into a dreamless sleep, waking in four hours as the sun was rising. The servants that quartered near his cell were already up and bustling around. Bayar lay on the mattress, enjoying the indolent feeling of having nothing pressing to do and all the time in the world to do it.
Physiologically unable to be idle for long the big man stretched, listening to the crack of over exerted tendons and joints but enjoying the mild pain anyway. Shortly he rose and dressed in plain "civilian" clothes. The morning was taken with simple maintenance - armour to the smiths for repair (and rueful memories of the worst dents), a new pair of pants to replace the travel stained and torn, careful oiling, checking and sharpening of weapons, airing the bedroll, bartering and trading the various valuables looted and so on.
By midday, his chores done in leisurely fashion, Bayar headed into the city proper. His preferred house for relaxing in the city was Otto's Bathhouse - frequented by the city's mercenaries on furlough but classier than your average grunt could afford. After returning from campaign a man had certain...needs to take care of, and Otto's at least had curtains. He hesitated at bringing his necklace of campaign coins on the trip (Bayar's sole piece of jewellery was a leather loop with three holey silver coins strung, each stamped with the name and year of the campaigns he had fought) - the necklace could get other mercenaries to open up a little, but the coins were often a prime target for thieves. In the end he took it along, adding the ceramic disc taken from the gnolls at Henri's house to the collection.
Otto's was its usual self - a large communal hot pool where tattooed and scarred men sat in companionable silence (or gossiping like old women depending on how much they had drunk), and we're massaged by young(ish) women of at least passable beauty, ringed by small curtained areas. The wine was above average, at least.
Bayar spent the best part of the afternoon there, emerging with two new friends, somewhat poorer and a good deal drunker sometime after dark. The three men headed for that bastion of male entertainment - the recruiting grounds outside the city's gates, where the various mercenary companies that are Hess' prime export to the world found their manpower.
None of the three were interested in signing on. Still there was always a good show as the various companies tried to impress potential recruits and out do each other. News of the world also passed through, none of what reached Bayar's ears good. War. The whole world seemed to be fighting amongst itself - even more so than normal. Some place called (variously, depending who you asked) Ress, Ruhr, Russ, Wuss or Weiss seemed on the verge of collapse and civil war (the Emperor had been assassinated by his brother, or his uncle, or had fallen off his horse, or was lost at sea...). Good for business, though Bayar's experience of civil war still tasted like ashes in his mouth. To the various tales of woe, Bayar added his own thoughts and experiences about the savage humanoids - and was glad he'd brought the ceramic disc along or would have found few believers.
Some time well after midnight he returned (staggering) to his sleeping cell, both satisfied and worried. The next day would bring whatever it would. Years spent on campaign had resigned Bayar to accepting that the future was largely unknowable, though probably dangerous.
I be getting soft as butter. There not even be a proper battle and I feel like an old man. Shortly he fell into a dreamless sleep, waking in four hours as the sun was rising. The servants that quartered near his cell were already up and bustling around. Bayar lay on the mattress, enjoying the indolent feeling of having nothing pressing to do and all the time in the world to do it.
Physiologically unable to be idle for long the big man stretched, listening to the crack of over exerted tendons and joints but enjoying the mild pain anyway. Shortly he rose and dressed in plain "civilian" clothes. The morning was taken with simple maintenance - armour to the smiths for repair (and rueful memories of the worst dents), a new pair of pants to replace the travel stained and torn, careful oiling, checking and sharpening of weapons, airing the bedroll, bartering and trading the various valuables looted and so on.
By midday, his chores done in leisurely fashion, Bayar headed into the city proper. His preferred house for relaxing in the city was Otto's Bathhouse - frequented by the city's mercenaries on furlough but classier than your average grunt could afford. After returning from campaign a man had certain...needs to take care of, and Otto's at least had curtains. He hesitated at bringing his necklace of campaign coins on the trip (Bayar's sole piece of jewellery was a leather loop with three holey silver coins strung, each stamped with the name and year of the campaigns he had fought) - the necklace could get other mercenaries to open up a little, but the coins were often a prime target for thieves. In the end he took it along, adding the ceramic disc taken from the gnolls at Henri's house to the collection.
Otto's was its usual self - a large communal hot pool where tattooed and scarred men sat in companionable silence (or gossiping like old women depending on how much they had drunk), and we're massaged by young(ish) women of at least passable beauty, ringed by small curtained areas. The wine was above average, at least.
Bayar spent the best part of the afternoon there, emerging with two new friends, somewhat poorer and a good deal drunker sometime after dark. The three men headed for that bastion of male entertainment - the recruiting grounds outside the city's gates, where the various mercenary companies that are Hess' prime export to the world found their manpower.
None of the three were interested in signing on. Still there was always a good show as the various companies tried to impress potential recruits and out do each other. News of the world also passed through, none of what reached Bayar's ears good. War. The whole world seemed to be fighting amongst itself - even more so than normal. Some place called (variously, depending who you asked) Ress, Ruhr, Russ, Wuss or Weiss seemed on the verge of collapse and civil war (the Emperor had been assassinated by his brother, or his uncle, or had fallen off his horse, or was lost at sea...). Good for business, though Bayar's experience of civil war still tasted like ashes in his mouth. To the various tales of woe, Bayar added his own thoughts and experiences about the savage humanoids - and was glad he'd brought the ceramic disc along or would have found few believers.
Some time well after midnight he returned (staggering) to his sleeping cell, both satisfied and worried. The next day would bring whatever it would. Years spent on campaign had resigned Bayar to accepting that the future was largely unknowable, though probably dangerous.
