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Message: <blockquote data-quote="loxmyth" data-source="post: 693396" data-attributes="member: 1255">The group decides to split into two groups: Forge and Linda heading for city hall while the rest head to Rooksbridge.After a half hour of walking from Ravenscraig to the edge of Crowngate via the cobbled Royal Way Road, the Enchanter and Druid stand outside the hallowed white-washed walls of city hall.  Huge wooden doors have been swung open and a pair of city guards flank the entrance, breastplates gleaming burnished silver and the white plume of their helmets a contrast to their dark cloaks.  They stand dutifully, hands resting on their scabbarded longswords as they watch the passersby.  City hall itself is an elegant five storied building with a slanted, red-shingled roof.  Over the door and in regular recesses about the building stood statues of a winged woman with flowing hair and a youthful expression - a representation of Arcos, the goddess the city took its name from.Inside, two long couches sit facing a large desk, behind which is an old elven crone, silvered hair elaborately done up in a beehive.  Her eyes seemed colourless, they were such a light hue.  Several people wait patiently on the couches, including one that Forge recognized - his cousin, Travar.The young dwarf looked quite the opposite of his elder and more respectable cousin; shorter and more compact, and his hair was a very light blonde.  Thick eyebrows hid his eyes, but Forge could see that Travar was scowling at his appearance.  "Whut are you doing here, cousing?" he asked, accusingly.The elven woman stood and smoothed out her lilac dress, giving the newly arrived pair a warm smile.  "Welcome to Arcosia City Hall," she said sweetly.  "How may I help you today?"~The journey to Rooksbridge was uneventful.  The thatched and shingled roofs of Ravenscraig soon gave way to the thick smokestacks and massive chimnies that were the trademark of the industrial district.  On the streets, merchants peddled their wares in a sing-song lyrical way: "Get your clocks here!  Clocks for sale!""...Music in a box!""...Hey-ho, listen to me!  This clockwork bird has the nicest song, don't you agree?"... and so on.  Grubby street urchins weave their way through the crowded streets and city guards on horseback patrol lazily.  Looming over all are two large black clocktowers that poke into a muddy haze that seems to cover Rooksbridge at all times.It is not hard to find the deceased Clockmaker's house: a few questions here and there by Phowett lead the group straight to it.  The place is a two-storied hut that is sandwiched between two larger buildings.  It apparently doubled as the gnome's shop: big letters in both common and gnomish proclaim that this place to be "Philander's Clockwork", and in the single large window in the front displays a variety of the man's handiwork.The side street on which the shop is located is only lightly populated with men and women going about their business.</blockquote>

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