slobster
Hero
Sharn, the City of Towers. Once the pride of Galifar, the very word is still a synonym for excitement, opportunity, and high culture throughout the continent. The streets are paved with silver and the parties never stop, or so the stories go.
Maybe it's true, at least for the upper city. But as rarefied as the air is high in the clouds, it's always a lot easier to fall to the ground than it is to fly in the sky. When people fall, they end up here, in Sharn's Undercity. And life in the shadow of Sharn's towers isn't much like any of the stories.
It's oh-dark-thirty in the obscenely early morning as you make your way through the Spice Quarter. You'd blame the hour for the lack of light and the fog so thick you could chew on it, but the truth is that the towers block the sun and it's always dark and wet down here. As nice as the “Spice Quarter” sounds, it doesn't look or smell any different from most of the Undercity. That is to say, it looks and smells like $#!t. You can hear the sounds of jeering voices carrying from one or two streets over, likely some kind of riot, or a party that got out of hand.
For a moment you steel yourself to rush over, see what the disturbance is. You are on duty after all, ungodly hour notwithstanding. Then you force yourself to relax, and purposely stride along your original path without glancing up. You have a special mission today. No distractions. Besides, the Undercity doesn't work like Above. Unless property owned by someone with “clout” is threatened by one of these disturbances, the Watch tends to let them burn themselves out. No point in getting your face bashed in for the sake of an ungrateful wretch and his sad pile of cheap boards and flimsy wares, is there?
You can still hear the shouting when you reach your destination, a rickety-looking apartment building where the rendezvous for this mission is to take place. A figure straightens as you approach, and his hand twitches towards a truncheon hanging at his side. Then he sees your face and relaxes. You recognize him, too, a guardsman called Derbie. He grins a lopsided hobgoblin grin at you and takes a swig out of a tin flask. He's carefully dressed in civilian clothes, so as to keep a low profile, or so you assume. Apparently he doesn't own a warm coat, so he's wrapped in about a dozen tattered scarves and is either wearing armor under his threadbare sweater or, more likely to your mind, he is wearing every shirt he owns, one on top of the other. It makes him look like a heavyset goblin boy with a head too small for his body. It might even be decent as a disguise, except that he's also wearing his thick Sharn Watch boots, a dead giveaway for anyone with eyes and two thoughts to rub together.
Afternoon, mate, he says with that same ugly grin. Beautiful day, innit? He laughs at his own words and takes another pull at the flask. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and continues. Boss is upstairs, third floor, first door on your right. But, ahh, he's a little bit off his head this morning. Grumpy, yeah? He's yelled at me three times for tracking in offal from the street into his 'office'. Derbie rolls his eyes at that last word to show how seriously he takes his superior officer. I'd clean my boots before I went in there, unless you want a scolding to get your blood up for your mission. He grins again and gives a meaningful look to your feet, covered in filth and grime from your trek through the historical Spice Quarter's back alleys.
While you take a moment to clean them off, another figure comes lurching from the mist. Derbie notices in the middle of taking a drink from the flask, and swallows some down the wrong pipe in his haste to put it away and react to the newcomer. He quickly breaks down into a fit of snarls, coughs, and curses as he tries to regain his breath, and as whatever noxious hootch he was drinking begins eating its way into his windpipe. You recognize the newcomer as another member of this mission, and behind him appears a third member of the team.
[sblock=first post, first serve]
Whoever posts first had this conversation with Derbie, and other characters can join in on the RP as you post. There isn't too much to accomplish here at the entrance to the building, but I thought it would be nice to be able to introduce yourselves to each other before the exposition begins. You guys can move upstairs whenever you'd like, but remember to wipe your shoes!
Choose a color for your “in-character” speech, and use it to separate your character's actual speech from your narration and other out-of-character text. I prefer the IC thread to be mostly light on the narration, with actual spoken text taking up most of your post (out of combat, anyway), but the first few posts where you describe your character and establish yourself in the game are exceptions.
If you are planning on joining the game but haven't posted a character sheet yet, don't let that stop you from joining in on the RP! The game statistics aren't needed in a little conversation, so all you need is your character concept and I'm glad to have you. I'll give you fair warning before any combat starts, don't worry.
OOC Thread
Campaign Page
[/sblock]
Maybe it's true, at least for the upper city. But as rarefied as the air is high in the clouds, it's always a lot easier to fall to the ground than it is to fly in the sky. When people fall, they end up here, in Sharn's Undercity. And life in the shadow of Sharn's towers isn't much like any of the stories.
It's oh-dark-thirty in the obscenely early morning as you make your way through the Spice Quarter. You'd blame the hour for the lack of light and the fog so thick you could chew on it, but the truth is that the towers block the sun and it's always dark and wet down here. As nice as the “Spice Quarter” sounds, it doesn't look or smell any different from most of the Undercity. That is to say, it looks and smells like $#!t. You can hear the sounds of jeering voices carrying from one or two streets over, likely some kind of riot, or a party that got out of hand.
For a moment you steel yourself to rush over, see what the disturbance is. You are on duty after all, ungodly hour notwithstanding. Then you force yourself to relax, and purposely stride along your original path without glancing up. You have a special mission today. No distractions. Besides, the Undercity doesn't work like Above. Unless property owned by someone with “clout” is threatened by one of these disturbances, the Watch tends to let them burn themselves out. No point in getting your face bashed in for the sake of an ungrateful wretch and his sad pile of cheap boards and flimsy wares, is there?
You can still hear the shouting when you reach your destination, a rickety-looking apartment building where the rendezvous for this mission is to take place. A figure straightens as you approach, and his hand twitches towards a truncheon hanging at his side. Then he sees your face and relaxes. You recognize him, too, a guardsman called Derbie. He grins a lopsided hobgoblin grin at you and takes a swig out of a tin flask. He's carefully dressed in civilian clothes, so as to keep a low profile, or so you assume. Apparently he doesn't own a warm coat, so he's wrapped in about a dozen tattered scarves and is either wearing armor under his threadbare sweater or, more likely to your mind, he is wearing every shirt he owns, one on top of the other. It makes him look like a heavyset goblin boy with a head too small for his body. It might even be decent as a disguise, except that he's also wearing his thick Sharn Watch boots, a dead giveaway for anyone with eyes and two thoughts to rub together.
While you take a moment to clean them off, another figure comes lurching from the mist. Derbie notices in the middle of taking a drink from the flask, and swallows some down the wrong pipe in his haste to put it away and react to the newcomer. He quickly breaks down into a fit of snarls, coughs, and curses as he tries to regain his breath, and as whatever noxious hootch he was drinking begins eating its way into his windpipe. You recognize the newcomer as another member of this mission, and behind him appears a third member of the team.
[sblock=first post, first serve]
Whoever posts first had this conversation with Derbie, and other characters can join in on the RP as you post. There isn't too much to accomplish here at the entrance to the building, but I thought it would be nice to be able to introduce yourselves to each other before the exposition begins. You guys can move upstairs whenever you'd like, but remember to wipe your shoes!
Choose a color for your “in-character” speech, and use it to separate your character's actual speech from your narration and other out-of-character text. I prefer the IC thread to be mostly light on the narration, with actual spoken text taking up most of your post (out of combat, anyway), but the first few posts where you describe your character and establish yourself in the game are exceptions.
If you are planning on joining the game but haven't posted a character sheet yet, don't let that stop you from joining in on the RP! The game statistics aren't needed in a little conversation, so all you need is your character concept and I'm glad to have you. I'll give you fair warning before any combat starts, don't worry.
OOC Thread
Campaign Page
[/sblock]
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