Ptolus: The Legend of Longcoat

[Voadam]

As if the Skull King himself were chasing him, the boy is off like a hare down the sandy street.

The sight of the boy fleeing sets off a predator instinct in Garn but he represses it. Turning to Ada he grins and says "Bay Street then." and heads off with her to work his way back up the line of connections until they get to the gnome.

 

[Whizbang Dustyboots]

"No not before Teun, but possibly before the Stonelost Dwarves arrived in Ptolus ages ago? Does the the reference to 'Great she-dragon of the waves' mean anything to you?" asks Maugra for one last question before she is ready to head out.

Eror's response is too quiet to hear at first, but he repeats himself.

"Child, the Stonelost were here before we were ever lost. A great she-dragon of the waves ... oh, well, that could be that unpleasant queen person. What was her name? Her people interfered with the Imperial navy several hundred years ago and she attempted to murder city officials during a peace conference. They didn't execute her, though. I don't remember why. I'm not a political person, you see. I'm more interested in machines. This is all making me rather tired ... Please come back some other time, there's a good girl."

 

[Erekose13]

Not the best at ancient history, Maugra doesn't know what he means by Stonelost dwarves not being lost. With some historical facts to go on at least, they have somewhere to look now as well as a time reference. "Thank you Archivist, please excuse our intrusion." she says indicating to Vanden that it would be good to head out now.

 

[Whizbang Dustyboots]

Bay Street consists of a series of warehouses and stockyards, sloping down to the sea and Pier Six. Most of the structures are claimed, but some of the stockyards offer an unmaintained roof and little more, and are seemingly used by whoever needs them at any given moment.

A pile of wet and soggy copies of the Pelican sits in one such stockyard, apparently abandoned after getting soaked in a downpour before dawn.

 

[Trench]

Ada sighs as she idly picks at a wet corner of the broadsheet pile.

"All right then."

She looks around for anyone who may have an idea about the Pelican's distribution.

 

[Whizbang Dustyboots]

A lizardman hunches in the doorway of a shut-up warehouse on the far side of Bay Street, fingering a small object nervously as he watches Ada and Garn. When Ada makes eye contact with the creature, it looks away quickly, murmuring to itself nervously, tugging its makeshift rag hood down around face, as if attempting to hide itself.

 

[Voadam]

Garn smiles, a malevolent looking thing, as he clasps his hands and stretches his hugely muscled arms overhead to get the kinks out of them. Then he tilts his head first to one side then the other, the bones in his neck making cricking sounds. "Time to get some more answers." Garn looks around to find the closest person to "ask" and spies the hooded figure.

His smile turned into a sneer. Garn had seen that reaction from people before. The lizardman didn't want anything to do with Garn. Experience had taught the half-orc though that a sure grip on the windpipe and a few gut-punches led many to be more willing to answer a few friendly questions. Once they got their breath back and were able to speak again.

 

[Trench]

Ada spies Garn's eagerness and steps in front of him to walk toward the lizardman.

"You're right to hide," Ada whispers as she places her palm on the wall above the lizardman. "He almost killed a newsboy today. I don't think you'd be any better off."

"So why don't you give me an idea of where the reporters for this rag congregate. Otherwise... well I'll have to let him loose."

"And I don't think you'd like that," Ada growls.

[sblock]Would this count as Intimidate? Cause that's what Ada's going for, albeit in a subtler method than Garn...[/sblock]

 

[Whizbang Dustyboots]

[sblock=Garnet, Maugra, Vanden?]Where do you guys want to go now? Do you want to take your newly acquired funds and stock up for round two?[/sblock]

 

[Whizbang Dustyboots]

The lizardman coils into a little ball as Ada looms over him, Garn casting a shadow over them both. The assarai -- as his race calls themselves -- frantically turns a small object over and over and over between his two hands, mumbling something to himself repeatedly.