Swamp Trek III: The Search for Ter-raen

[covaithe]

At Gildrim's knock, an elf of indeterminate age in a spotless gray waistcoat and trousers answers the door. He smiles a professional smile and asks, "What may I do for you, gentlemen?"

[sblock=Karl]Your confident walk and calm smile seem to be enough; the guards do no more than give you a pleasant nod as you pass.

Up ahead, Gildrim and party turn into a low-walled enclosure and rap on the door. An elf answers the door quickly, exchanging words with them.

ooc: Do you... sneak up to hear what's being said? Note the location and walk on by? Turn into a nearby side street and go around the back? Something else? As before, give an appropriate check. [/sblock]

 

[Trouvere]

"Ahrm, hrm, hemm! Guid... guid mornin', miss," says Gildrim, frowning fiercely. "Th' nam's, uh, Nurazak. Maister Thorne's expectin' me. Aw his secretar, uh, Fewmet, that is."

 

[Scott DeWar]

[sblock=for the dm only!] *sigh* This is a bit more tricky then I figured. I think Karl will just simply walk up boldly and join the group. I had not figured Karl sticking out like a sore thumb in the district he was to go to when I first conceieved this idea of lurking.[/sblock]

 

[Richard Rawen]

Richard, looking increasingly uncomfortable with the situation, interrupts.
"Ah, uhm, excuse me, uhm, could I just have a moment with my, um, companion here? Please, thanks." With this great diplomatic gesture the young man will move Nurazak a few paces away if he's able...
[sblock=First off]Richard works at a forge. I assume that any time he is at the RDI is either on lunch, or before or after work hours. In any case the only time he is truly clean is before he goes to bed or right before work...
Therefore it seems most likely that this is going on during Richards lunch break (not likely during the normal noon hour as he'd need to be at the shop for customers) and likely Richard is quite dirty, except for his hands and face, since he'd be eating.
Also it didn't occur to me (player) until just now what would likely have been noticed by, if not Richard, then much more likely the more cultured Cleric, that we are not in exactly "presentable condition"...
Sorry in advance for being so wordy![/sblock][sblock=if Nurazak moves]"I did not realize how, uhm, well, Rich these folks are and... well, we should probably be a little cleaner" With this Richard does not point out the Dwarves obvious grime, but rather his own forge-grit. "These guys will be more likely to listen if we take a little time to clean up?" At this point Richard is running out of steam and looks to his priestly comrade - who is probably by far the cleanest of the trio - for support[/sblock][sblock=if Nurazak won't budge]Richard will get embarrassed quickly as he is trying to help but doesn't want to make more of a scene and undermine the cause of this down-on-his-luck Dwarf.
Therefore he'll try to give Weel a meaningful look at the Dwarf and his own status (filthy-grimy and gritty-dirty) and try to get some help in his attempt to get the Dwarf (and himself) cleaned up before coming back.[/sblock]

 

[Trouvere]

Richard, looking increasingly uncomfortable with the situation, interrupts.
"Ah, uhm, excuse me, uhm, could I just have a moment with my, um, companion here? Please, thanks." With this great diplomatic gesture the young man will move Nurazak a few paces away if he's able...
"I did not realize how, uhm, well, Rich these folks are and... well, we should probably be a little cleaner" With this Richard does not point out the Dwarves obvious grime, but rather his own forge-grit. "These guys will be more likely to listen if we take a little time to clean up?" At this point Richard is running out of steam and looks to his priestly comrade - who is probably by far the cleanest of the trio - for support.

Gildrim moves aside, looking uncomfortable.

"Ah knaw Ah'm weel splairgit wi' clarts ay Gundar dinnae kens whit!" he says in a low voice. "Daes it nae gae a way tae repraisent hou pressin' Ah regaird th' meetin', if Ah've nae taen th' time tae wash efter mah traivel? An' Ah wis hopin' mebbe Thorne wadna want tae keep me talkin' sae lang, if Ah wis a wee bit draiglie."

"But if ye're worrit aboot ye're ane pride, laddie...."

Gildrim chants briefly and waggles his fingers, and begins making passing motions in Richard's direction. Forge grime leaps from Richard's clothing and vanishes in the air.

"Wi' ye in a maument, miss!" Gildrim calls to the elf.

 

[covaithe]

The elf frowns. In icy tones he answers, "I shall inform Fewtrell of your presence. Perhaps once you've finished your... ablutions, you'd like to wait inside?" He makes no move to open the door.

At that moment, a human youth with hazel eyes approaches. You recognize him from the Red Dragon, where he introduced himself as Karl Rutherford, adventurer.

"And is this... gentleman... with you as well?" the elf asks.

 

[Scott DeWar]

The young human stands nonchalantly leaning on the side of the building, leaving a slight smudge of dried swamp muck.

 

[jkason]

Weel Naxel, human cleric

"Now that is a lovely little trick," Weel comments of the cleaning magics. "I could have used that back when I had to muck out the stable at home."

The elf frowns. In icy tones he answers, "I shall inform Fewtrell of your presence. Perhaps once you've finished your... ablutions, you'd like to wait inside?" He makes no move to open the door.

Weel stammers and blushes at the clear condesension in the elf's voice, then falls silent.

The young human stands nonchalantly leaning on the side of the building, leaving a slight smudge of dried swamp muck.

Weel perks up a bit, waving to Karl, but catching sight of the elf in his peripheral vision, he clams up almost immediately.

 

[Scott DeWar]

"Father Weel. Good day to you, sir"

 

[Richard Rawen]

"Ah, no I,"Richard begins, then stops suddenly as his work clothing is cleaned more thoroughly than he's seen it in... "I didn't mean..."
His thought is interrupted as more developments, people, the way he mis-communicated, everything gets a bit too much for the young fighter.
With no real reason to draw his blade, and certainly nothing to smack if he did, Richard quickly clasps his hands behind his back. With a set jaw, he settles into a parade-rest stance, and clams up as well.
A small bead of sweat trickles down his brow, into his eye.
He does not move.