Metropolis (The Heart of the City) - Chapter Three
"You know Shieldtown looks more your style Jackal" the pale elf says "I've never been here before, I live in a different slum to this one" he says as he walks off down the street, hand in hand with Steph, looking for somewhere were the group can buy some clothing - at least something to get them into Greenhills so they can get some more appropriate attire.
OOC: figuring that in their current scum encrusted attire that they're likely to be kicked out of Greenhills by over exuberant gaurds so he wants to at least get something to get the mud and grime off before before venturing to the richer part of town.
OOC: figuring that in their current scum encrusted attire that they're likely to be kicked out of Greenhills by over exuberant gaurds so he wants to at least get something to get the mud and grime off before before venturing to the richer part of town.
"I'm turned around from the sewer trek, but if we're anywhere close to the Kanji or Red Lamp districts, I know a few places. Not sure how much time we have for the detour, though. You don't suppose Zimmerman could simply loan us some presentable clothing in exchange for returning his daughter?" The last Ru directs to Ghost.
Fenris said:
Jovik:
[sblock]Knowledge - local (DC 12) +23 - Success
Within Shieldtown there are many people in the business of graverobbing, taking that which may be valuable and storing it until the proper occassion arises to sell the things to interested parties. One of these people, Jellice, operates from an old mosque near the border to Greenhills where she sells more ancient trinkets to the well-to-do of the city.[/sblock]
Festy_Dog
First Post
Fenris:
[sblock]
A lopsided smile came across the half-orc's face. The Jackal was a survivor, and Ba'aktar respected that. To survive in a hostile world was to have strength, a simple truth which may not have been at first obvious in the young man's wirey physique, but was soon learned in the Jackal's steely gaze. There weren't many who were willing to look Ba'aktar in the eye. In the end though this mercenary wanted payment for his services. He was willing however to let his colleague have the pick of the loot, he had earned it.
The big orc shrugged amiably, "No big interest in it exactly, just in something worth coin. The ring if you like the sword, or the sword if you like the ring. I ain't fussy."
After spending a few moments admiring the sword he hands it back to the Jackal.[/sblock]
"I can't wear my armour!?" Ba'aktar asks loudly, almost disgusted by the thought of wandering around Metropolis without his second skin, "You can't be serious..."
The half-orc grumbles and complains as they walk, "Next you'll tell me I have to wash off my warpaint, or cut my hair. Bah!"
[sblock]
Fenris said:
A lopsided smile came across the half-orc's face. The Jackal was a survivor, and Ba'aktar respected that. To survive in a hostile world was to have strength, a simple truth which may not have been at first obvious in the young man's wirey physique, but was soon learned in the Jackal's steely gaze. There weren't many who were willing to look Ba'aktar in the eye. In the end though this mercenary wanted payment for his services. He was willing however to let his colleague have the pick of the loot, he had earned it.
The big orc shrugged amiably, "No big interest in it exactly, just in something worth coin. The ring if you like the sword, or the sword if you like the ring. I ain't fussy."
After spending a few moments admiring the sword he hands it back to the Jackal.[/sblock]
"I can't wear my armour!?" Ba'aktar asks loudly, almost disgusted by the thought of wandering around Metropolis without his second skin, "You can't be serious..."
The half-orc grumbles and complains as they walk, "Next you'll tell me I have to wash off my warpaint, or cut my hair. Bah!"
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