Drowned Hero
First Post
"Hu... yeah im sorry" the barbarian almost blushes it seems the little ones had agreed to make the disguise diferent then that he had imagined.
The Antigrol Tide (IC)
- Thread starter Mallak
- Start date
Naomi looks into Troth's kit with quizzical eyes. "What's all that stuff?" she asks, picking up one of the prosthetics. "Eww, it's a nose! How do I look, Colmarr?" she asks, turning and smiling at the gnome with the false nose pressed to her face. It is like a dwarf's nose, quite big and bulbous, comically out of place on her petite face.
When Colmarr tells Troth to dress Naomi up like a female gnome, she puts the nose back and says, "But Colmarr, I thought I would hide better as your brother? Isn't that right, Magyar?" Regardless of the final disguise, Naomi will quietly submit herself the the tender ministrations of Troth, the barbarian makeup artist.
When Colmarr begins to teach her the gnome language, Naomi learns quickly. "Lissa? Oh, I like that name. It's pretty, not like some of the other names people give me."
When Colmarr tells Troth to dress Naomi up like a female gnome, she puts the nose back and says, "But Colmarr, I thought I would hide better as your brother? Isn't that right, Magyar?" Regardless of the final disguise, Naomi will quietly submit herself the the tender ministrations of Troth, the barbarian makeup artist.
When Colmarr begins to teach her the gnome language, Naomi learns quickly. "Lissa? Oh, I like that name. It's pretty, not like some of the other names people give me."
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unleashed
First Post
Colmarr Blackrock, Male Gnome Bard
“It’s a little big for you Naomi,” Colmarr chuckles as she turns with the false nose on her face, “Very becoming for a dwarf though.”
“Yes, disguising you as a boy would probably work better Naomi, but we have no boys clothes to fit you and I have nothing extra, so we only have your dress,” Colmarr shrugs, “It’s far from a perfect solution, but it’s the best I can think of in the limited time we have...unless someone can come up with some boys clothing for you this minute.”
“It’s a little big for you Naomi,” Colmarr chuckles as she turns with the false nose on her face, “Very becoming for a dwarf though.”
“Yes, disguising you as a boy would probably work better Naomi, but we have no boys clothes to fit you and I have nothing extra, so we only have your dress,” Colmarr shrugs, “It’s far from a perfect solution, but it’s the best I can think of in the limited time we have...unless someone can come up with some boys clothing for you this minute.”
Drowned Hero
First Post
Troth Barbarian/Half-Elf
"I don't think i got any pants, clothing isn't my area" ... "you can have that nose Naomi, it looks very nice on you "It better if you keep it in your pocket until this fuzz is over" he turns around walking for his quarter "I got to gear up" "see you up deck"
At his quarter Troth took his clothes on wrapped the studded leather armor, packed the disguise kitt in the backpack, leaving it at the bottom.
this gonna be hard day...he thinks for himself placing his rapier on his back drawing it some times as a training always ready... the cold steel
Troth walk up to the rest of the group. Staying a little behind of the rest.
"I don't think i got any pants, clothing isn't my area" ... "you can have that nose Naomi, it looks very nice on you "It better if you keep it in your pocket until this fuzz is over" he turns around walking for his quarter "I got to gear up" "see you up deck"
At his quarter Troth took his clothes on wrapped the studded leather armor, packed the disguise kitt in the backpack, leaving it at the bottom.
this gonna be hard day...he thinks for himself placing his rapier on his back drawing it some times as a training always ready... the cold steel
Troth walk up to the rest of the group. Staying a little behind of the rest.
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Magyar Rhineholdt, human rogue
Magyar opens his mouth to speak, but only gets as far as "But you hated--" when he cuts himself off. He fumbles a bit, trying to reconcile the little girl's intense objections with her sudden easy-goingness. Finally, as Colmarr and Troth take her in hand, the young stage performer shrugs, chalks it up to youthful capriciousness, and watches the disguise artist at work.
Mag's younger sister was quite good at this sort of thing, often playing a planted "volunteer" in crowds several nights in the same week without anyone noticing the old hag, young boy, and bright-eyed young woman were actually all the same person. Given the current circumstances, Mag wished he'd thought to ask her along on this journey. Hopefully, Troth would have comperable skills.
Mallak said:
Magyar opens his mouth to speak, but only gets as far as "But you hated--" when he cuts himself off. He fumbles a bit, trying to reconcile the little girl's intense objections with her sudden easy-goingness. Finally, as Colmarr and Troth take her in hand, the young stage performer shrugs, chalks it up to youthful capriciousness, and watches the disguise artist at work.
Mag's younger sister was quite good at this sort of thing, often playing a planted "volunteer" in crowds several nights in the same week without anyone noticing the old hag, young boy, and bright-eyed young woman were actually all the same person. Given the current circumstances, Mag wished he'd thought to ask her along on this journey. Hopefully, Troth would have comperable skills.
unleashed said:
Naomi breaks into a fit of giggling at Colmarr's droll tone.
unleashed said:
"Oh, ok, I guess. I'll do my best to be your sister, though. I've had a lot of practice at being a little sister, but I've never been a gnome before."
Drowned Hero said:
Naomi smiles big at the scarred barbarian. "Oh, thank you!" Then her face falls. "But I don't have any pockets."
When Troth has finished, after several poor attempts and with much helpful input from Colmarr and Magyar and a heroic effort on the part of Naomi to remain still, the child looks much less like a little girl and much more like a female gnome of about fifty years. Magyar has gathered her hair back into a tightly coiffured braid after the current Antigrol fashion.
"Well? How do I look?" Naomi asks, twirling around in her dark green dress. "Am I a gnome yet?" She smiles, and she does indeed look like a gnome, so much so that if Colmarr and Magyar hadn't seen it done, they wouldn't know it was a little girl under there.
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Magyar Rhineholdt, human rogue
Mag smiles and gives an encouraging thumbs up. "I think you'll pass for Colmarr's kin with no problem," he says, then he turns the thumb to jab it towards the door. "Now let's get you socked away in the captain's cabin. The disguise is wonderful, but better still if we never have need to test it."
Mallak said:
Mag smiles and gives an encouraging thumbs up. "I think you'll pass for Colmarr's kin with no problem," he says, then he turns the thumb to jab it towards the door. "Now let's get you socked away in the captain's cabin. The disguise is wonderful, but better still if we never have need to test it."
unleashed
First Post
Colmarr Blackrock, Male Gnome Bard
“Yes Lissa, you look like a gnome,” Colmarr smiles, using her gnomish name to set it in the minds of everyone there, “And if I hadn’t seen it done, I wouldn’t know you weren’t always a gnome. A very good job Troth, a very good job indeed.”
“Magyar is right though, we’d better get you into the captain’s cabin...even though the disguise is very good, I’d prefer we not need to test it either.”
“Yes Lissa, you look like a gnome,” Colmarr smiles, using her gnomish name to set it in the minds of everyone there, “And if I hadn’t seen it done, I wouldn’t know you weren’t always a gnome. A very good job Troth, a very good job indeed.”
“Magyar is right though, we’d better get you into the captain’s cabin...even though the disguise is very good, I’d prefer we not need to test it either.”
[sblock=OOC]As most of you know, EN World had a major crash and we lost about 5 months of posts. That really hurt, but we can recover. Fortunately, unleashed had the forethought to keep a meticulous record of his part in the game, and I will try to fill in any remaining gaps.
While putting the following together, I read over what unleashed has recorded and I was reminded of several things that had slipped my mind. It was an interesting read, and a good refresher for what's going on in the world.[/sblock]
[sblock=The Story Since Then and Before Now]Up the street from the docks, there is a swirling in the crowd and a voice can be heard distantly calling, "Way! Make way for the Tortila Guard! Way! Give way!" The guards that emerge from the crowds onto the docks are dressed in hauberks and carrying halberds. They are led by a middle aged man with a genial face, though at the moment he looks rather grim. He carries no polearm but has a long, straight sword at his side. Out in front and leading the way is the man who was previously at the tiller of the merchant's longboat. He is a short, snippish looking man.
The guards make their way out onto Pier 3, which has quickly become devoid of civilians, and the leader walks up the gangplank to speak with the captain. The merchant stands to one side, looking smug.
"Good afternoon, Captain Turion. What seems to be the trouble here?" the guardsman asks.
"Good afternoon to you, too, Guardsman Lieutenant Craeterre. As you can see, we have only just arrived in Tortila. I believe this merchant here is trying to get a jump on his competition. However, the Pander Ban is not yet ready to receive guests. Perhaps if you would escort him to a nearby tavern, he can return in a few hours? Also, if I might request the favor of a furlough guard for the afternoon? The Pander Ban would be very appreciative."
Throughout all this, the merchant's face has been growing a darker and darker shade of red. Finally, he bursts out, "Guardsman, this man, this Captain Turion, has kidnapped my niece! In complete disregard for the laws of the harbor and this fine city, he and his crew cut me off out on the water and stole certain personal effects of the Bledsum family. I demand that my men and I be allowed to make a thorough search of this vessel!"
The guard looks at the merchant. "These are some serious accusations, Merchant Bledsum. What proof have you?"
"Proof!? There must have been hundreds of witnesses who saw what happened! Question anyone on the docks, man! They'll tell you. But why wait? Let us go aboard immediately and search. They haven't had time to hide everything, I'm sure. We should probably start in the hold. They many have tried to hide things among their other cargo." The merchant again attempts to take a step forward, but he is blocked by the guard's outstretched hand.
"Captain Turion, do you wish to allow this man aboard your ship?"
"I think not, Guardsmen Lieutenant Craeterre. Of course, you and your men are welcome aboard any time. If you care to step aboard now and conduct a thourough search, I have nothing against it. Perhaps it will ease this merchant's mind and put rest to these accusations, and your subsequent testimony may prove useful if I choose to press suit against the Bledsum family."
The guardsman looks wary for a moment. "I think if I have a look around, that shall be more than sufficient in all respects." The Guardsmen Lieutenant steps aboard the vessel and glances around the deck. "I'll just have a look in the cabin and the hold then." G.Lt. Craeterre glances at the captain with raised brows.
"Braer. Malachi, escort the Guardsmen Lieutenant below."
Braer, Malachi, and G.Lt. Craeterre walk toward the cabin beneath the poop. At the moment they reach the door, it opens from within, and Troth is standing there looking slightly confused to see the stranger dressed in a uniform standing between the doctor and the First Mate. Behind him in Colmarr's cabin, Colmarr and Magyar are just putting the finishing touches on Naomi's disguise.
“I guess you’d better hop on my bed then Lissa, as it seems we’ve run out of time,” Colmarr whispers, “Try to look and sound a little sick if they come in...” Colmarr then begins to sing softly and appears to be comforting the gnomish woman on the bed.
OOC: Catching a glance of unfamiliar clothing on someone outside the door through Troth’s legs, Colmarr begins casting lullaby (-5 to listen/spot checks) at the people outside the doorway (centred on the unfamiliar clothing).
Being suprised by the man in hauberks and with a sword by his side, that suddenly enters the room, Troth reacts naturaly trying to intimidate the stranger "who are you"" "and what do you do onboard this ship?" Troth seems more or less angry out there he stands placing his hand on the nod of his weapon. "Captain!" he screams out loud
Seeing that Colmarr has Naomi in hand, Magyar pops out into the hallway. Troth's sword probably has the guard's attention, but there's still his disguise gear to be put away.
"Troth, keep a level head," Mag says evenly. As he moves to "place a calming hand" on Troth, Mag takes the opportunity to shift his cloak to block the arm with the kit, and slips the bag from the barbarian's hand into his own. He turns to face the newcomer, hands moving behind his back as he slightly bows his head and flashes a disarming smile. Here he hopes to keep the kit concealed under the cover of formality.
"I'm sure Braer wouldn't be bringing the officer down here without the captain's permission, would you Braer?" He flashes a disarming smile at the men as he seeks to put them all at their ease.
"No, I would not Mag. Let me present Gaurdsman Lieutenant Craeterre. He is here to search for stolen goods aboard our ship." Braer steps out from in front of the gaurd and listens intently to the conversation while trying to appear bored
On the docks, the merchant's oarsmen are shifting nervously and glancing furtively at the armed guards who are leaning on their spears as if they haven't a care between them. The short snippish man who had been at the tiller of the longboat and then led the guards back to the Pander Ban has come up behind the merchant on the gangplank, scowling fiercely at the crew. He is about five feet tall and skinny, with a mean little face, a long, sharp nose, and dark eyes. There is a small white scar beneath his left eye which stands out as he scowls. He has stringy black hair that falls to his shoulders, and one of his long-fingered hands caresses the sword hilt hanging on his right hip. On his left hip he carries what appears to be a coiled black whip. Every now and then, the man gnashes yellow teeth behind thin, snarling lips. As he advances up the gangplank to stand behind the merchant, Wakil is sickened by the stench of evil which permeates the man and follows him, oozing from his pores like cheap perfume.
"This is Orpheus, my loyal man." Merchant Bledsum speaks to Captain Turion in a soft conversational tone and his face is genial, but his eyes are hard as flint. "Regardless of how this turns out today, we both know you have something of mine, and I will have it back, one way or another. If you do not give her to me now, you shall give her to Master Orpheus later, and I can promise you, you won't like that."
Captain Turion has been growing red in the face at the audacity of this merchant. Now he speaks, and his voice is cold. "Take yer idle threats an' be gone from my ship, merchant. Ya pollute th' very air with yer presence, an' I shall have no more t'do with ye, now or ever."
Down below, G.Lt. Craeterre seems confused for a moment as Colmarr begins singing and Troth challenges him. Magyar takes the opportunity to slip the disguise kit from Troth and place it just inside the doorway of the galley against the wall.
"Ah, yes, First Mate Braer is quite right. I'll just have a look around if you don't mind?" G.Lt. Craeterre lifts his eyebrows at Troth in question. Assuming the barbarian allows him to pass, he'll move on to Colmarr's cabin, commenting as he goes, "You seem to have a lot of fighting men for a merchant vessel."
The guardsman lieutenant enters Colmarr's cabin. "And what have we here?" Naomi has crawled under the covers of Colmarr's bed and is feigning sleep, though her brow is scrunched up as if in pain or intense concentration. Even in gnomish makeup she is cute. Next to her, Colmarr sings a soft lullaby.
Turning his head, Colmarr moves his finger in front of his mouth to shush the guard, before speaking quietly as he concentrates on the spell, “My sister sir, she hasn’t been well during the voyage,” before he turns back to the bed and continues singing the lullaby while stroking her hair.
OOC: Bluff +5, Diplomacy +7
Naomi coughs softly into her hand. "I'm feeling much better now, oni.* Do you think I'll be able to go into the town?"
Guardsman Lieutenant Craeterre arches an eyebrow at Colmarr. "Your sister, eh? What's wrong with her? I would hate to have to quarantine this vessel."
Malachi steps forward quickly. "Oh, it's nothing to worry about, I assure you. I'm the ship's doctor, you see. Young miss has been rather frightened. I don't know that the ocean agrees with her."
*Naomi uses the gnomish word for "brother."
“Well now the ship is docked I’m sure you’ll get better quickly Lissa, and getting you onto solid ground might be the best medicine so I don’t see why not,” Colmarr replies. Kissing his sister on the forehead as he stands to speak with the guard, he also moves to obscure his view at the same time, “As Malachi says sir, she’s been troubled with seasickness for most of the journey, so she’s a little under the weather...nothing more than that.”
"And I've got something always helped me here," Mag says as he returns to the room, carrot held out with a bright smile. "Mamma Rhineholdt always gave a soul a carrot first off. Said the crunching and chewing were a good way to get a body strong again."
As he hands off the carrot to Colmarr, Mag turns innocently to the guardsmen. "So, what is it's been stolen that you're looking for, anyway, if you don't mind my asking?"
Taking the carrot, Colmarr replies, “Thanks Magyar, but I think we’ll stay away from any food until we’re on solid ground, I don’t want to have to scrub the cabin floor again...it was hard enough to clean up last time.”
G.Lt. Craeterre gives Colmarr, Magyar, and Naomi and unreadable look. "Well, then, I hope she'll be feeling better soon. Be careful taking her into Tortila. The docks have been rough lately." With that, he turns and walks out and quickly completes a cursory inspection of the ship. Meanwhile, back at the gangplank . . .
Bledsum sneers at Wakil, but as he opens his mouth, Orpheus steps forward and begins to speak. "You wish to know me, Knight?" His voice is soft and raspy, and his hand hovers near the hilt of his sword. "I am the Terror that creeps into your bones and chills you in the Night. I am the Darkness which smothers your Light. I am the Nightmare that fills you with Fright. To know me is to know Doom. Where I go, I bring Pain. Where I pass, I leave nothing but Lamentation. Would enjoy that, Knight?" Here he gives a wicked grin, his red tongue flicking over his thin lips as his left hand carresses his whip suggestively. "A more intimate meeting could be arranged."
Those aboard are saved from having to respond by the arrival of G.Lt. Craeterre. "I have completed my inspection of the ship and have found all to be in order. Merchant Bledsum, you and your men are ordered to clear out and leave Captain Turion in peace."
Merchant Bledsum shakes an angry fist at Captain Turion. "You haven't heard the last of this, boatswine." The merchant deliberately mispronounces the title, which is itself a demotion of the captain's position. "Your pet guards cannot protect you forever." The fat blusterer turns and schlumps down the gangplank, gesturing to his men to follow. Orpheus gives one final dark sneer before turning and following his master. Shortly, the men are gone from the docks.
"Thank you, Guardsman Lieutenant Craeterre, for your fine work."
"Any time, Captain. I will send a contingent of guards down to watch your ship while you furlough your men."
"Thank you, again, Craeterre. I believe I shall require them for the duration of our stay. The usual arrangement?"
"Yes, of course, anything you require Captain. The Tortila Guard is here to serve." With a smile, G.Lt. Craeterre turns and proceeds down the gangplank, gesturing to his men. They, too, are soon lost in the crowd.
Captain Turion turns to the crew. "All right, men, we need to get the Pander Ban ship-shape and ready to sell her wares. If we work hard, we should have just enough time before the guards arrive to furlough you. Once we are finished, see me in my cabin to receive your pay. The ship is open to you for the duration of our stay in Tortila, but do not bring anyone aboard." He says this with a hard look at Grondar. "Otherwise, have fun, and enjoy yourselves. You've earned it. We'll likely be headed out in a few days, and you're all more than welcome to join me for the next leg of our journey. Now, all you swabs, get to work!"
Mag slumps back against the wall with a relieved sigh when the guard has exited to the upper deck. He looks at the carrot in his hand and chuckles, then takes a bite of it.
"I think I need the energy, but I'll do my best not to add to your poor floor's predicament," Mag says with a wry smile to Colmarr.
To Troth he adds, "I stashed your kit in behind the dry goods in the galley whenever you want to get it. Figured our little gnome here would come off better without that around to call the guard to look too close, you know?"
Hearing the captain yelling for all hands above, Mag starts for the deck, hurriedly finishing the carrot and saying around a full mouth, "No rest for us, I guess."
“Oh I don’t imagine anyone will be decorating my cabin floor today, but it’s always good to add a little truth to the lie...it makes the whole thing easier to swallow,” Colmarr chuckles, winking as he concludes his statement.
Reacting to the captain’s call, Colmarr asks Naomi, “Will you be okay here for a while, as I’ve got to go and see if I’m needed for the heavy work?” He waits for a response before heading out to speak with the captain.
"You have a fast hand there" ... "excellent move my friend" ..."I think I better take the kit in my backpack" "i don't like have my thing spread out everywhere at the ship" he retrieves the kit form behind the dry goods and packs the kit carefully in a aged cloth piece and lies it in a concealed pocket inside his backpack.
Up on deck the captain yells all men to work.
Troth gets his armor from his room and wraps it on, sword by his side, and go to work. When he comes updeck, the wind strikes his face from the south and the sun warms his face.
He talks to the Captain "Any special security measures you want to discuss Captain?" "I don't like the look of us relaxing at this port, or even worse, splitting up" "that merchant is bad news..." “I suggest for you that any group on land must stay together at all time” ... “what work you want me to do?” “pack the sails?” Troth looks up and see Noonchuck already are climbing the main mast looking down at him with a 'get up here and work' look.
Wakil will go about his duty of getting the ship ready to go back to sea and transferring the goods ashore and follows any other commands the captain may give.
This guy looks dangerous, here goes my free time alone in the city. Grondar thinks to himself, now that this guy saw him on deck. Darn! says Grondar to himself and goes to the lower deck, he will start to lift the crates of good and wares to the upperdeck.
"Oh, I'll be fine for a little while, but you won't leave me down here all alone when you go ashore, will you?" Naomi stares up at him with pleading eyes which look very blue in the cabin's low light.
"You're quite right, of course, Troth. I think it would be wise for the crew to stick together while ashore. The ship should be fine, though. I've known Guardsman Lieutenant Craeterre for quite some time; he will send us his best men. Now, I suggest you haul in those sails before Noonchuck has it all done!"
As N'un T'Chauck, Troth, and Denther secure the sails, Braer directs the rest of the crew in bringing select crates from below up on deck. These will be samples to display for the merchants who will come later to bargain for the entire cargo.
The work is done quickly, though all are hot and sweaty by the time it is over, even Wakil, who is still soaked from his dip in the bay. One by one, the crew members knock on the captain's door to receive their pay.
Colmarr receives 15 gold as his initial wage, plus 5 gold as a dangerous combat bonus, plus 3 gold for his service as healer, plus 2 gold for his service as cook for a total of 25 gold. Captain Turion gives Colmarr an extra gold to buy Naomi some spare clothes and to outfit her with decent shoes.
Magyar takes his pay with a thankful smile, and adds it to his funds.
"Might actually be enough to get myself a decent bow," he thinks aloud. He had some lucky shots with his sling, but if more of the same excitement was going to be happening, something a little more ... martial might be called for.
For now, though, time to wash away the grime. Then, that carrot had been gone from his stomach for some time. Grub would definitely be called for. On his way to clean up, he asks Colmarr, "Anything special in mind for dinner, or are you finally done with chef's duties?"
“Of course not Lissa, I’ll come get you before I go ashore,” Colmarr replies warmly, “I’ll be back shortly.”
“Well I don’t know about dinner Magyar...I hadn’t given it much thought as I felt we might all eat in town tonight, but I’ll definitely continue with some cooking duties aboard ship,” Colmarr replies, surreptitiously using his active prestidigitation to clean Magyar’s clothes as they speak.
After completing his work, collecting his pay, and speaking with Magyar, Colmarr returns to his cabin. “See not too long after all, and the captain even gave me money to get you some spare clothes and shoes,” Colmarr remarks, using a little sleight of hand to make the gold coin appear and disappear, before he cleans up his clothes with his hopefully still active prestidigitation and washes his face, only then collecting his backpack, “There all done...ready to go Lissa?”
Denther pitches in with the hard work as much as he can, staying out of the way the rest of the time.
Troth nods to the Captain as he recollects his payment.
Not directing himself to anyone specific "I'm going to be on the pier" "i want to feels some fast ground under my feets" ... "I go with you wherever you want, as long we stay in a group"
He then turns around and walks out on upper deck drags a big breath of air filed with salty water. He walks down at the pier sitting down on one of the crates waiting for the others.
Wakil collects his wages from the captin and then goes below to change out of his wet clothes. He then mills about waiting for the group to leave for shore.
As Mag begins to clean up, he suddenly notices that his clothing has lost the dirt and odor he was dreading trying to get out.
"Tricky gnome," he mutters to himself as he dries water from his face and scrubs under his fingernails. "And I thought I was good at getting away with things while a fellow was distracted."
Once he's done, Mag once again has the dilemma about going armored and armed or not. Eventually, he decides to compromise: wear the armor, take the dagger and sling, but leave the more obvious shortspear behind. He supposes it will be easier to shed the protective gear if the more martial crewman don't see a need for it, so he might as well play it safe for now.
Geared up and spiffed as he can manage given the circumstances, Magyar heads out to find the others and figure out where it is they'll all be finding their dinner.
Naomi laughs and claps her hands for Colmarr's display of dexterity in making the coin appear and disappear. "Oh, yes please, let's go. I'm getting tired of this stuffy old cabin."
Down on Pier 3, the crew is slowly congregating. Shortly, a group of guards arrives to relieve the crew, and they are free to go. The city of Tortila is open to them, with all it's myriad charms.
Deciding he doesn’t need anything in his backpack right now after all Colmarr puts it back in the corner, before he and Naomi head down to the pier. “So where shall we go first folks...the markets?” he asks.
OOC: Colmarr has everything not listed in his backpack, except his second (full) case of bolts.
Wakil with all of his wordly riches upon him agrees that a merchant should be first. He offeres a quick prayer to his god for protection of the whole crew and the ship before following whoever takes the lead. He will not jostle for postion but would like to be near the front of the group. He would lead but is unsure of the way and will let someone more confidant go in front of him.
Grondar turns to Colmarr You can't go to the markets without drinking a beer first, Let's go to the "Sleeping Sailor", I heard the beer and Malt are quite good and then head to the markets, Who's with me? he calls out loudly
"Thank you for your kind words, captain." Denther leaves the captains office and head to his bunk, changes closthes into something a bit less "sea-worn", and heads down to the pier. Arriving there, he approaches Grondar. "Grondar, the captain said you might know where to look for a college or library. could you point me in the right direction?"
As the others debate their destination, Mag suddenly starts.
"You guys hash this out, and I'll follow wherever, but I need to run fetch something quick."
The armor's annoying to run in, but Mag hustles to keep from holding up the group. When he gets to his backpack in the cargo hold, he roots around in it a moment. First he pulls out his signal whistle and strings it onto his neck. He's not expecting trouble, but it certainly wouldn't hurt to have a quick way to call for help. The second item he pulls out, biting his lip. Only hesitating a second, he slips his lockpick / escape tools into one of his cloak's many pockets.
His safety nets all thusly arranged, Mag straps the shortspear to his backpack and leaves it behind, running back up front to the group.
"Ready whenever you guys are."
No problem Denther my friend ...he taps on the ranger's shoulder Also there are more interesting stuff than a library He mutters quietly to himself... Do you see the tall tower of the church Grondar points to the direction of the roofs behind the port
Behind the church There is a large square and a nice stone fountain in the middle, The Library is over there, but join us to a drink friend before you go to delve in books.
“I don’t know Grondar, somehow I usually make do without a beer before browsing through a merchants wares,” Colmarr remarks, shaking his head and grinning at the big man as his first thoughts go to alcohol again, “If you just have to have a beer before you can stand the thought of merchants though, I suppose we can do that first.”
[Edit -- There is a scene missing here where N'un T'Chauck speaks with the Captain alone in his chambers and receives his pay. There was an important clue here, but since N'un T'Chauck was the only one who saw it and he appears to have gone missing, I won't take the time to repeat it.]
Noonchuck stows his harpoon and ice axe in their usual place on the ship and secures his coins in a small pouch that he carries on his belt. He checks to make sure he has his obsidian knife in its belt sheath, and then joins the others on deck as they prepare to debark from the ship.
"I would very much like to see the sights in this town. Let us stay together as brothers..." he says to the group, smiling. He is wary of large towns as there are many things strange to him in them. He's seen many sights in Antigrol, but each of these place is different, and has its own wonders-- and dangers.
Wakil offers up a prayer, that someday they begin moving, to his god. Talking to himself "I hate learning patience."
“Well looks like we’re all ready to go, so you lead the way Grondar, and we can go get that drink you want,” Colmarr says, walking up to the big man and giving him a gentle push in the direction of the city to get him moving, before taking up a safer position in the middle of the group near Naomi as they head off.
"Yeah Grondar" "you'r the one that know the city most" "lets go for that drink and after we go to the market" Troth adjusts his armour and weapon.
Denther Shows a sly grin " I know there are more exiting things than books, Grondar. Believe me, I will not spen all my time in port in the library. I know what the red roofs mean and I may even visit one before it's time to weigh anchor again.
As far as a drink goes, I think a bit of drink and food would be just the thing to settle a sea-worn stomach. Goodness knows I could use something other than hard tack. I'm ready whenever you are."
When Braer and Troth finally make it down to the impatient crew, Braer has his hood thrown back for the first time. He seems somehow subtly different with his hood thrown back, but, ah well, it's a beautiful day, and the Sleeping Sailor awaits.
Grondar leads them through crowded streets where, despite the lack of activity in the harbor, people still bustle about on their daily tasks, hawkers still cry their wares, be they pins and ribbons or tacos and fajitas, and carts still roll through the streets. Once off the docks and the main paved thoroughfare, the streets are dusty, hard-packed earth. Here, most of the buildings are warehouses, but tucked between them are the occasional red- and blue-roofed buildings.
The people here seem in healthy spirits, and there is a feeling of activity and industry in the air. In a surprisingly short amount of time, they have arrived in front of a single story building with a blue roof sloping away to the back. The crude sign over the door bears a picture of a man passed out at a table with a mug of grog in his fist. The tavern is flanked by warehouses on either side which serve to cast deep shadows in the allies. The door is propped open, and inviting.
The inside of the tavern is very dim after the brightness of the street and cooler, too. The room is practically empty, which is no surprise given the time. The bar stretches along the back wall, and there is a door behind the bar leading presumably to a rear room or the back alley. In the front right corner is a small stage, empty now. The rest of the room is filled with long, low trestle tables and benches, and the floor is strewn with sawdust, damp in patches.
"It smells funny in here," remarks Naomi, and indeed it does, a mixture of vomit, blood, and stale beer, all covered over with the smell of old sawdust, dirt, and fish. At one end of the bar, the bartender is talking to the lone customer. They seem to be discussing an object held between them in the bartender's small hands. As the party draws closer, their conversation becomes clear.
"...elling you it's real, man!" the bartender is saying, gesturing to the object he holds. It seems to be a round ring of metal about the size of a man's hand, though hardly any metal can be seen through the rust that encrusts it. "Look there, right there, and tell me it don't say . . ." at this point he looks up, noticing his new customers, and hands the ring to the other man. "Hey, what you want?"
"I don't know, Ton . . ." the man sitting at the bar says, looking closely at the ring and rubbing at it. "It's hard to make out the inscription through all this rust, or even if there is an inscription."
"Well, it's rusted 'cause it been at the bottom of the putin ocean, man!"
"Hmm . . ." The customer continues to examine the ring. He is a middle-aged balding man, and well dressed for the area. He is wearing slacks and a good shirt with a jacket draped over the barstool next to him. As the crew draws closer he looks up. "Oh, pardon me," he says, removing his jacket from the barstool and placing it over his lap.
“Yes it does Lissa...fortunately you’ll get used to it if you spend enough time in this kind of place so I’m told, unfortunately I’m far from used to it,” Colmarr replies, rubbing his sensitive nose as they walk to the bar.
As the continue to cross the room, Colmarr asks his companions, “Shall we sit at the tables or the bar?”
“Well sir we had thought to give you our patronage, if that is to your liking,” Colmarr replies to the bartender, “What have you in the way of libations?”
Troth walks to the bartender “a mug of ale to me please” he sits down at the empty barstool next to the customer with the ring “any news from this part of the world?” directing himself to the customer and bartender “been on a long journey and im quite happy to have some solid ground under my feet” “and i will be more happy when i get that ale” he smiles at his best.
"No trouble at all," Mag says to the customer as other members of the crew engage the barman. He smiles disarmingly and shows a casual curiosity as he nods to the ring. "Interesting trinket you've got there. Bit worse for the wear, though. I hear you say it's got an inscription?"
Hey fellow. he says to the bartender and shakes his hand Don't know if you remember me, But I was here several times with my old gnome boss ... nah ..never mind, just give me one of your good white beers, the one you store in the basement.
Grondar goes to Troth and whisper to him Pssst...the white beer is far better over here, if you want some strong good ale save your coins and come with me in the evening to the "Arrow in the bull" tavern, you can gamble over there also.
Not interesting with the customer's business, he takes his drink and goes to speak with the waitress (if none around) he orders some tobbaco also and sits in the corner for a smoke.
When Braer walks in it takes him a moment to shake off the smell. When he does he too walks up to the man and looks to the trinket, "Yep mag certainly looks worse for wear alright," Then to the stranger,"where did you get one like that."
When Troth receives his Ale he goes over to the corner where Grondar is sitting "what a smell its in here, he?" “worse then on a damn fishing ship”... "this gambling place you say, I hope its one of those dangerous corners" “im sure theres some money to get there” he leans over to Grondar and says in whisper "i would like to fight some of those boys" "the merchant type of boy..." "that man cant be any good after what.... the little girl told us, you agree?" he takes a big mouth of ale "not that bad this either" he says and point at the mug. "anyway.... we should be prepared to get attacked" "that merchant is going to try to get the girl whatever it costs him".
Troth leans back at the chair facing the bar "Hey Colmarr!" "come here my friend "you drinking any?" "please buy something to yourself and Lissa on my account" ... "maybe he has some juice stored, to the girl". He looks back at Grondar “you have some more of that tobacco?”
Noonchuck takes in the smells and sights of the tavern, not really sure what he will want to eat and drink. His tribe made wine of sorts from berries during the summer, and mead from honey stolen from the wild bees that lived in the trees nearby, but he was never much of a drinker. He approaches the bar a bit sheepishly and asks, "I'd like some fish and some of what my friend is drinking..." he motions towards Troth. "How many coins would that be?" He asks.
"We got grog. We got all kinds of grog. We got tall grog, short grog, weak grog, strong grog, light grog, dark grog, thick grog, thin grog, we got grog for morning, noon, and night. We got plains grog and mountains grog, and we even got grog from the islands down south. We got barbarian grog and noble grog and tribal grog and holy grog and grogs for each day o' the week. We got watered down grog and fired up grog, gnomish distilled grog and dwarven stout grog. We got soft grog, hard grog, sweet grog, bitter grog, smelly grog, and slimey grog. We got grog that's hot, grog that's cold, and grog ta make you happy, sad, or rich, grog for planting, grog for growing, and grog ta bring in tha harvest. We got grog to cry in, grog to piss in, grog that been pissed in, and grog ta piss ya off. We got grog to sleep off, grog to go off, and grog to off you. Hey, we even got grog pulled up off the bottom of the ocean. If we don't got it, you don't want it. Now, what you want?" [Glad we didn't lose this post.
-ed]
"Ale? What's ale?" the tavern keeper asks with a blank stare. A moment later he breaks into a broad grin. "Hey, just kiddin', man! One special ale, comming up!" He grabs a mug from under the bar and walks to one of the five large kegs behind the bar. He pulls the tap, filling the mug with a thick brown liquid with a foaming head. As he sets it down in front of Troth, he says, "Hey, man, who's payin' for all this?"
The bartender looks confused for a moment. "Basement? We ain't got no . . . Oh, you mean the good white beer in the 'basement,'" he says with a wink at Grondar. "Yeah, sure thing, man." The bartender heads through the back door, fortunately missing Grondar's comment about the Arrow in the Bull and returns a few moments later with a mug full of some sort of bubbling, pale yellow liquid. When Grondar asks about tobacco, he throws up his hands and says, "Hey, what do I look like to you, a tobacconist? Say, that's not a bad idea . . . but no, we don't got no tobacco. Unless you want some tobacco grog?"
"We ain't got no fish right now, neither. Ya missed lunch. But I'll getcha some grog." The bartender returns with a mug for N'un T'Chauck. He pulled it from a different keg, and it's a slightly lighter shade than Troth's. "It's a silver a mug," he says, placing the frothy beverage in front of the big barbarian.
Chuckling at the list of vague options, Colmarr replies, “Well you could have saved us both some time and just said we’ve got whatever your want...since you have it though, I’ll take a mug of gnomish beer.” Colmarr waits for the beer, tossing the coin on the bar as he takes it and Naomi to the table where Troth and Grondar have settled themselves.
“Hmm, that doesn’t look much like gnomish beer, I’d consider requesting my money back except I imagine there’s little chance of that. I’m sure we’ll find something nicer in the market for both of us Lissa...” he says on the way across to the table.
“Oh, I doubt he has anything other than alcohol Troth, considering everything on the list he rattled off was grog,” he says upon reaching the table, first helping Naomi onto a bench before taking a seat next to her. Taking a small sip of his beer from the large mug, he remarks, “And bad alcohol at that, tastes like old shoes,” before placing it on the table and pushing it towards Grondar, “Here have another if you like big man ...it’s not really to my taste.”
The bartender pulls tap for Colmarr, this time from the same keg he pulled Troth's beverage from. He sets it in front of Colmarr with a dull thud, quickly scooping the coin off the bar and into a pocket.
Troth's, Colmarr's, and N'un T'Chauck's grog are all dark and stout, with a taste like stale bread strained through an old shoe. N'un T'Chauck's has a peculiar tangy aftertaste. They are also all quite strong. Grondar's beverage tastes like stagnant, fetid rainwater, and smells about like it tastes. All in all, above average quality for this type of place.
I got no Tobbaco, he don't sell it. He replies to Troth. I will buy some in the market later on, I need a new hat or a bandage, like a pirate He laugh loudly to everyone that sits beside him and takes Colmarr's drink. Listen man. He turns to Troth again If you wanna fight, come to gamble with me later ... it always ends with a fight Grondar takes a sip from both his drink and Colmarr's drink and mix them in his stomach. As for the merchants, I'm sure Lady luck will arrange us another meeting with them
Moves up to the bar. "I always thought that it ended with...If you find grog we don't have...DRINK IT!!!... But i could be wrong. Mug of your darker grog please."
"I take the bill of the little one" he says from the chair pointing at Colmarr "the one of the big fella´ and my one"
"I guess your right about Lady Luck" ... "I'm sure up for some gambling if the group want to go" "and i take my fists with me" he slams it in the table making the mugs jump. "No tobacco ,he? maybe at the marked they got some" "I have been out of tobacco since my last sailor job". He turns to Colmarr and Naomi.
"the grog is fine" "what are your taste in drinks Colmarr?" "maybe some of that fine wine?" he gives Grondar a elbow in the ribs "Wine!" he laughs out a deep sounding laugh ...
The bartender laughs at Wakil's joke. "Hey, that's a good one, man! Never turn down grog. Heh. All right, a mug o' the dark, comin' up." He grabs another mug from under the bar and walks down to a keg at the far end. When he pulls the tap, nothing happens for a moment. Then, slowly, a dark, viscous liquid oozes from the keg into the mug. It foams up quickly when it hits the mug, and seems to break apart, becoming thinner. He lets the head die down and refills it three times before bringing the drink to Wakil. "Drink it quick, man. You don't want it to settle too much in the glass."
The middle-aged man at the end of the bar brightens at the interest and attention from Magyar, Denther, and Troth.
"Yes," he says, fingering the ring, "it does look a bit the worse for wear. If Toni here is to be believed, it has spent the last decade and a half or so at the bottom of the sea. He claims there is an inscription here--" "There is an inscription, man, right there!" "--an inscription here which ties this ring to one of the trimmest rigs to ever cut waves, the Jenny. But I can't seem to make anything out through all this rust, so I am going to take it back to my shop and see if I can't get it cleaned up."
"You do an' it gonna cost ya! Ain't nothin' leaves my hands without money, friend."
Over at the corner table, Naomi says, "If you don't want your drink, oni, let me have a sip." She reaches for the mug, lifting it in her two small hands, and takes a drink from it. She nearly drops it as she begins coughing and sputtering and spitting, her face pinched in a grimace of distaste. "Eww! That's aweful!"
"What's wrong with her? She no like my grog?" To Troth he says, "You're covering their tab? That's three silvers, then."
Noonchuck takes his drink and goes to sit with Troth. "Hey Troth, Grondar... this does not taste very good. Is that what it is supposed to taste like?" He offers his mug to either one of them to taste his drink.
Before the bartender comes over to the table, Colmarr chuckles as he responds to Troth, “Well I prefer a flavourful ale, beer, or mead, though wine is good too as is a decent spirit, but I definitely prefer my drink not to taste like something I might’ve just walked through...”
Patting Naomi on the back, Colmarr says, “Don’t worry Lissa, I’m sure we can find something in the market that’ll take the taste away...”
“It’s probably a little rough for my sister sir,” Colmarr remarks to the bartender, “Hey I already paid for mine, so don’t you go charging him for it again!”
"So you've no food at all? My stomach's still a little uneasy to pouring anthing called 'grog' down there. I guess I'll take the lightest ale you've got."
To the other patron "Well met there stranger. That's quite the shiny you've got. Not in great shape though. You'll probaly need to get that cleaned befroe you could read any inscriptions. really powerfull alcohol might do it. then again, maybe not."
Denther will wander over to an open spot near the rest of his shipmates to await his drink.
While paying for his drink Wakil asks the bartender, "So how have things been going around here?"
Grondar turns to Noonchuck give it back to the bartender ... ha ha he push the mug away. I want to be sober when I visit the market and deal business, besdie it ... He looks to the bartender and says quietly I hate those Grogs, he gives me the "Special"
When he finish up his mug and half of Colmarr's drink he stands. Fellow, it's time for our next stop, the market, so finish your drinks and your business
Braer turns to the bar tender, "What does the alleged inscription say?"
As Braer asks details of he bartender, Mag politely asks the customer, "Maybe a fresh pair of eyes would help. Might I have a look?"
Troth empties his mug looks at Grondar "your right mate" "lets check out the market" he stands up and hands the bartender 3 silvercoins "here you are"
After Naomi stops coughing, Colmarr gets up off the bench and as he helps her off says, “Come on Lissa, lets walk around a bit, it might help,” and heads across to the bar, Naomi in tow, to see what has some of his crewmates so engrossed.
The bartender hands Denther a mug full of some sort of foamy liquid that looks like murky water. "That's one sliver, man." The bartender takes N'un T'Chauck's drink from his hand. "What, you don't like it neither? Puttin northerners . . . " he mutters under his breath while scooping up Troth's three silvers. He then heads back to the bar and begins speaking with Wakil.
"Things, they not so good, man. The business, it not so good around here now there's less ships coming in and more people going out. Not that I blame them myself, but I ain't letting no puttin elves run me out of my femin tavern, you know what I'm sayin'? Is just that, some people, they heard about what happened down in the islands? And they start thinkin' them elves'll be coming north, next, right? Me, I'm not so sure, but I wish they'd hurry up and make up their minds. I mean, if they do get up here, at least I'd have somebody to sell to, man. That's why I turn to them trinkets, there, man, cause business been so slow. I got that ring there from a man who say he fished it out of the islands, right before the point-ears showed up. He fled lickity-split, man, he got nothin' left now. He trade me that for a pint. I think, maybe if Robbie there buys it, I make out on that deal, no? Am I smart or what, eh? I knew when I saw it and he tell me where he got it, and I see it have that inscription on it, it gotta be from the Jenny, ya know what I'm sayin'? So, anyway, you guys come in over land or by ship?"
Meanwhile, the gentleman at the bar is talking to those members of the crew gathered around him. "Well, I really can't make out the inscription here, but I suppose, if it is what Toni says it is, it should say 'Jenny' on it. We shall just have to wait and see after I get it back in my shop. I have the proper cleaning agents there. If you'd care to take a look, be my guest, only do be careful. I'm afraid it may be rather delicate, and if this truly is a ring from the Jenny . . . " He gives a slight shudder and trails off, handing the ring to Magyar.
To the customer, "Pardon my ignorance, but who or what is the Jenny?" and then to the bartender, "Not so fast sir but I believe my companions drink was already paid for by one of the four sillvers you have already recieved."
Wandering up to Magyar, Colmarr takes a look at the ring too as he tries to recall something of the ship.
OOC: Colmarr will make a Bardic Knowledge check (+6) to see if he knows anything of the Jenny, telling Magyar what he knows (assuming he has some information of course).
Mag takes the ring gingerly, inspecting it to see what he can make out. Braer saves him having to ask about the ship the patron so clearly knows a story about.
"We came by ship we have some things for sale down at the docks. So in this time of change who is in charge of this city? What happend down in the sountern islands? What other 'trinkets' have you picked up? What is the story of the Jenny?"
Noonchuck shakes his head as the barkeeper takes his drink away. Well, I wasn't going to drink it anyway... he thinks. He then goes to listen in on the other conversations that are going on.
Troth sees that the rest of the group isnt ready to go. He has no interest in the trinket so he slaps Grondar and Noonchuck over their backs, laughing a little laugh as he do it, already in a better mood after the drinking the grog. "hehe" "seems the others arent ready to go" "I be sitting over here"... he sits down on a chair near the group, allowing him to hear what they say.
Yep. seems like we are going to stay here a little bit, until they'll finish their business Grondar goes to lean on the bar's door, he look outside at those who are passing the street at the shops around, here and there he whistles and winks to the women and to wandering dogs.
As Grondar looks out, he sees Malachi walking towards him. "Ah! There you are. I thought I was lost for a second--all these roofs look the same to me. With only three colors, there aren't enough land marks." He pats Grondar on the shoulder as he takes a step in.
"Hello, all, sorry I'm a bit late. Hello sirs I don't know. Nice to meet you." He moves closer and waves, but doesn't sit. "I'll just wait for you to finish--I need to get some new clothes. I've had these ratty old things for quite a while."
Wakil waving back, "Hello Malachi, glad to see that you caught up with us. The bartender was just telling us about the ring, Jenny, and the southern islands."
Colmarr's Bardic Knowledge:
The legend of the Jenny is well known in southern parts, though a great mystery surrounds her and her nameless captain. Unfortunately, Colmarr missed Legends of the Human Southern Islands 101, so he has no idea what was so great about her. He does seem to remember that there was a ballad that told the story rather well. Too bad he can't seem to recall it.
The bartender speaks to Braer. "Whatdoyamean, not so fast? Aye, I received four silvers, man, I can count, what, you think I'm stupid or something? Big Man, there--" and here he gestures to Grondar, "--he ordered the special white beer, see? That's two silvers a mug, man. So, like I was sayin', that'll be one silver."
Magyar looks the ring over, turning it over in his hands and feeling it. It's probably made from steel or brass, though brass doesn't usually rust like that. Judging by the way the rust is patterned, it's quite possible that there is an inscription or engraving of some kind on it. Of course, it really is impossilbe to be certain just from looking at it. Still . . . Using a fingernail, Magyar is able to scrape off a bit of rust revealing what could be a line of some sort etched in the surface.
"Please don't do that. You know, I'm not sure I believe everything people say about the Jenny," here the customer shudders again as if thinking about something unpleasant, "but there are some people who are still looking for her. If Toni here is right, this little ring could be worth something to the right buyer."
"Ha! You see! You do believe me!"
"I said if, Toni. If. But forgive me, friends, I have not properly introduced myself. My name is Robert Begnam. I run a modest antiquities shop in Upper Tortila. I deal in artifacts and relics of all kinds. I even have rare items from beyond the ocean, from the lands of the elves and the gnomes, even things from beyond the dwarven mountains, and from beneath them. I have chairs and tables graced by the presence of the heroes of legends, beds whereupon rested fair maidens, and royal seals blessed by ancient kings. I have swords wielded by the Army of Thousands, which drove the barbarians from these shores and into the hills many years ago, and made this land we stand upon suitable for civilized men. I have axes and spears from those same barbarians, and a fur wrap worn by the barbarian king Nanrog himself, taken from the brutes dead body by Anyl the Deliverer. I have coins from every realm and kingdom since the dawn of civilization and ceremonial daggers from a hundred different ancient tribes, even some rumored to be used in human sacrifice, if that is to your taste. I have books written by ancient scribes, setting down the first knowledge of humanity. I even have the very first recipe for making beer. All of these wonders and more you can find in Begnam's Shop of Antiquities, on Vine Street in Upper Tortila."
"Hey, man, they wanna know about the Jenny, not about your old stinky junk."
"Pay no attention to him. He wouldn't know a true antique if...well, if someone gave it to him for a pint of grog. But as I was saying, the Jenny. Ahem. The Jenny was a single masted pleasure schooner built sometime between two and three decades ago, as near as anyone can figure. She was quite a trim little ship, and--"
"Aw, man, you tellin' it all boring and teacher like. Listen, you guys come back here tonight, right after sunset. I got a guy who sings the song, the Ballad of the Jenny, in a voice like you wouldn't believe. Near brings me to tears every night, I swear. He tell the story a whole lot better than ol' Robbie can. And if that don't do it for you, I got a girl, too, who sing and dance, man, moves you won't believe til you see 'em. She got hips that shake and--"
"Ahem." Robert clears his throat rather loudly. "If they want to know more about the...show, I'm sure they will return and see it this evening." The man has turned a curious shade of red. He is saved from further embarrasment by Malachi's entrace.
The bartender looks at Malachi when he walks in. "You look like you could use a drink, man. What can I get ya?"
Grondar leans against the doorframe, idly watching people pass by. He's lived most of his life in the docks, and he can tell that the activity is a bit light for what should be a busy port. Of course, the lack of ships in the harbor could explain this. The lack of shipping is troublesome, but he doesn't see any day laborers loafing around like they normally do when there's no work. There should be many more people in the tavern drinking, too.
Down the street there are several warehouses. A man comes out of one of them, turns up the alley beside the warehouse, and disappears from view. Grondar didn't get a good look at him, and he was only there for a moment, but he could have swore it was that merchant's lackey from down on the docks, the little Orpheus guy.
Turning to the other members of the crew, "Well I guess we can move on to the merchants," turning to the bartender, "I think you have sparked our intrest friend there is a good chance we may come back tonight. Some for the ballad the others for those hips you where so causally mentioning." With the last sentece he looks pointedly at some of his fellow crew members.
“Indeed Wakil, it all sounds most interesting,” Colmarr says with a grin and a wink.
“Hmm, well I might also visit your shop friend should I have the time,” Colmarr says to Robert, “Sounds like you have some interesting items there I’d definitely like to see and perhaps purchase if I can afford them. I may even be able to assist you with a bit of information on some of your items, especially those of the nonhuman races.”
"Oh, nothing thank you. I know I don't look so well, but I really do just need a change of clothes."
Malachi, having missed the previous conversation, "Oh, a ring? Wha--oh, that ring? That'd fit a rather large finger, I'd think. What's all this, then? Why do we have to come back here?"
"Sorry," Mag says, grinning sheepishly. "I get a little caught up sometimes." He holds the ring up before him in his right hand, looking through it at Begnam. "What with all the strangeness since we met the elves, I really should be more careful. No idea when something might--" with a flourish of both hands, Mag palms the ring in his left hand, showing the empty right with a look of mock surprise. "--magically disappear. Oh, my."
Mag doesn't hold the ruse longer than a beat. He produces the ring in his left hand, placing it gently on the bar before Begnam, then bows his head slightly. "Magyar Rhineholdt. Pleased to meet you."
Braer apollogizes to the bar tender, "I'm sorry, I must have missed that peice. You can never be too careful though, some people would try to collect the profit twice, and you never can tell."
Grondar keeps looking at the alley, wating for the man to reappear again. He then turns back and calla loudly to the group who talk to Begnam Friends, we don't have all day, let's move to the market
“Well Malachi, I for one would like to hear the Ballad of the Jenny, which is to be sung here this evening, and then there is the other entertainment which apparently shouldn’t be spoken about in polite company, if you get my meaning,” Colmarr replies with a wink.
“Yes lets get to the market before everyone shuts up shop, thinking they’re not getting any more patronage this day,” Colmarr remarks.
Malachi looks thoroughly confused now, "I thought the bartender here was going to tell us about the ring, Jenny, and the southern islands. Was I misinformed? I do want to go to the market this day, but a story shouldn't take so long."
"The barteder recommended that we come back later to hear the story from a better 'teller. We could hear it now, but I for one would prefer hear the story well the first time." Braer stands up and begins to move towards the door.
"A better teller? As a song? Why don't we hear both versions and decide for ourselves?"
“Actually the gentleman,” Colmarr says, inclining his head toward Robert, “Was going to tell us of the Jenny, but I thought we might hear the telling of that later as we peruse his shop. I know I’d definitely like a look at that ring when it’s all cleaned up, as would Magyar no doubt by the interest he’s shown so far...”
Naomi gives a little gasp when Magyar makes the ring disappear. "Where'd it go, Magyar, where'd it go?" Robert gives a startled jump before relaxing when Magyar places the ring back on the bar. The little girl in disguise claps her hands together with a bright grin and a giggle.
"That's quite a talent you have there, young man," the antiquities dealer says, picking up the ring and turning it over in his hands. "Remarkable."
Toni the Bartender takes Braer's coin as soon as he profers it. "Yeah, well, they some people who no so honest. You got to keep a good grip on your purse, you know what I mean?" He casts a suspicious eye on Magyar as he speaks, having noticed the magician's earlier trick with the ring. His face suddenly brightens as he gets an idea. "Hey, man," he says, speaking to Magyar, "you ever thought about performing? A man with your talents, could make a lot of money if you worked here in my tavern, you know what I'm saying? Eh?"
Where Grondar stands at the door, he can see up and down the street in both directions. He doesn't see the man emerge from the alley again. Perhaps it goes on through to the next street over? Casting his eyes up and down the street, he sees mostly warehouses and a few taverns, and an inn down on the corner. All of the interesting shops will be further up in the city.
Upon hearing Colmarr talk about "other entertainment," Naomi looks up at him. "What sort of other entertainment, oni?" she asks with innocent eyes. "Are we going shopping, soon? I would like a new dress, please."
Robert stands, pulling on his coat. "Well, I really must be going gentlemen. Here, Toni, I'm taking this ring with me," he says, slipping the ring into his pocket, "and I'm leaving you the three coppers it cost you. Don't worry, if it's what you say it is, we'll discuss a real price later. If not, you owe me a mug of, um, grog, I guess." He places a few coins on the bar and turns to head out the door. "Remember, gentlemen, if you have the time, Begnam's Shop of Antiquities, on Vine Street in Upper Tortila. Good day."
Mag puffs up a little at the compliments, but at the mention of the money to be made, he actually sags a bit. With a rueful smile, he says, "I fear the days of my kind of parlor tricks are coming to an end. The elves bring real magic, after all. But thank you for the offer."
He gives a nod to Bregman as the man leaves. "We'll surely do our best to stop by."
Magyar smiles warmly to Lissa, saying "I definitely think we should stop at the dressmaker's next." Then a wicked gleam enters his eye as he adds. "Let's make sure we all tell Grondor together, shall we?" The thought of watching the thug recoil at having to dress shop rather nicely takes away the stinging reminder of Mag's former life.
Giving Magyar a look which clearly says, thank you for leaving me with the entertainment question, Colmarr turns to Naomi and whispers, “Well I’m not sure exactly Lissa, but from the shop owners reaction I would guess it’s a rather risqué performance designed to excite male spectators, and is not really something young ladies should see.”
Colmarr then continues in a normal tone. “We should be on our way very soon Lissa, if fact right now if no one has any other business here,” he asserts, looking around. “Hmm, a new dress you say...yes I think a new dress or two might be right at the top of our list,” Colmarr says smiling.
“Indeed we will stop by, should we get the chance,” Colmarr calls after Robert as he leaves, echoing Magyar’s statement.
These men talk swiftly and with strange words, thinks Noonchuck as he strains to follow the story of the Jenny and the antiquities shop. It sounds to him like this man is an ancestor worshipper, from the way he collects and saves these items from the past. He pats the obsidian blade in its sheath by his thigh, feeling the tingle of his father's spirit in it. He can understand keeping trinkets that belonged to ones family, but those who you never knew? Curious behavior...
His stomach rumbles, but he waits stoically for the group to move on. Surely we will pass a place that has food when we continue our exploration, he thinks.
"Oh, the man owns a shop. Yes, we should stop by. That would be a wonderful time to listen to the story, then. Maybe tomorrow morning. Are we off to peruse what garments are available, then? I don't know the way." Malachi nods his head in agreement, looking at the others.
Troth stands up nod at the others, he walk out of the tavern door waiting for the others and take his place in the double row.
After Colmarr has done his explaining, Mag shrugs, though he can't help but smile a bit.
"Sorry, Colmarr, but it seemed it was a family matter," he says with a wink.
Finally Grondar thinks to himself. After me ladies ... ha ha he says and get's out. Grondar will then go to the market, on the way he shows them several interesting places like the "Ancestors bridge" they pass on, the golden opera and the must visit place - shrine of lady luck - (this is how he calls her) If you wanna gamble, pay a tribute here he says loudly when they pass along the fountain/shrine.
Noonchuck, there are food stands in the west part of the market, you can eat there, Denther the Library is on the next square to the north. Whenever they keep follow him or not, Grondar goes to buy some Tobbaco, new winter coat and hot corn on a stick
Mag hesitates when Grondor starts pointing crewmen to separate places.
"We're not splitting up, are we?" he says with mostly-masked concern. "I thought we'd decided--given our 'new friends' in town--that we should stick together for safety?"
"Sticking together is never a bad idea Mag, but it seems our priorities differ. I really would like to see the library before we have to leave port again and I don't know how long we have."
"Well, the captain said we'd be here a few days," Malachi shrugs, "So I don't think we're pressed for time."
“I suppose if we don’t all stray too far from each other it will be okay, after all we haven’t seen any signs of our ‘new friends’ following us as yet Magyar,” Colmarr declares.
Turning to Denther, he continues, “Yes, no need to rush off I think...I’d like to explore the library too, but perhaps best to leave it for tomorrow. After all they may charge a fee to explore their knowledge and if so it would be best to make a day of it, as they’re likely to close their doors in a few hours. We should go and find out when they’re open and if there is a fee though, but lets get our purchases out of the way first.”
Taking Naomi’s hand, he says, “Come on Lissa, lets go find you some new clothes, and perhaps some for me too. Anyone else coming?” he asks as they start to wander around the market, looking for clothing stalls or shops, while trying to keep the rest of the group in sight.
Mag bites his lip a moment, then acquiesces to the split. He grabs his whistle on the thong around his neck, however, and holds it up.
"So be it," he says, then smiles a bit nervously. "But if any of you hear a shrill whistle, I'd very much appreciate it if you came running."
As the group divides, Mag sticks by Colmarr and "his sister."
"I want to see if I can find a bowmaker, but otherwise I think I'm much better at mercantile shopping than the kind of thing Grondar has in mind," he says by way of explanation.
"Anyone else hungry?" ask Noonchuck. "I'm also interested in seeing the 'antiquities' shop when you decide to go there." He'll gravitate toward any group with Grondar or Troth.
Troth nods at Noonchuck "I am" "but im in no hurry" "I rather stay grouped with the others"
At N’un T’Chauck’s declaration of hunger and Troth’s reply, Colmarr stops after only a few steps. “Well I would eat now, but I’m going to be busy handling clothes, so I thought I’d leave food until I’m done with that...you know merchants, they tend to get upset when you stain their clothes and then don’t buy them,” Colmarr says grinning mischievously, “We could swing by the food stands and you two could pick up first though if you’d like.”
“As for the antiquities shop, well I hope to go there when we leave the market, via the library, but I’m not exactly sure how long we have...we should ask Grondar about that, I’m sure he knows when they start the entertainment at the Sleeping Sailor,” Colmarr replies, waiting for a short time to see if the two join them before continuing on, via the food stands if people want to get something now.
Previously...
“Oh, that. Why do you think adults like that, oni?”
Now...
"Will you buy me something nice to eat as well as a dress, oni? It's been ever so long since my last meal, and my tummy's sad." Naomi makes a face that is intentionally sad and cute at the same time, holding her hands over her belly. Naomi is, by nature, a cute little girl, but wow, when she tries, she can be outrageously heart-melting, far more than any person has a right to be.
Previously...
Colmarr waits until they are walking to the market to answer, so they can have a semblance of privacy. “Well onia*, things like that usually stir feelings of desire and pleasure...simply put it makes them feel good.”
Now, in the market...
“Of course, I meant you too onia,” Colmarr remarks, grinning broadly at Naomi’s antics, “I promise it won’t be too long, but the dress first I think and some shoes.”
OOC: *Gnomish word for sister (aren’t I lazy using a normal language convention).
"Oh, I'll go with you Colmarr." He tags along with the group, inwardly smiling at Naomi and Colmarr's conversation. Mostly, though, he scans the crowd, getting a feel for the people here, and how busy the market is.
"A fee? For a Library? I can understand it for a alehouse or an inn, or even for other things. But for a library? somehow that just seems wrong. Knowledge should be available to all, not just those who can afford it. Yes, it can wait until tomorrow and I am hungry."
“Yes, I’ve seen it quite a bit and I suppose it makes sense actually, especially for those not backed by a wealthy patron of some kind. After all they have to acquire and copy manuscripts, maintain the building, pay staff, and so forth...none of which is as a rule free,” Colmarr explains. “As for the fee itself, well it generally isn’t too much, but most people just don’t need the information libraries tend to contain.”
Malachi nods, "Well, if everyone had access to a library and there were no fees, then it would be easier for some of the tomes to be damaged. Especially the older ones, I imagine. Or, maybe, you just have to convince the library's owner to let you in, under his watchful eye."
“You’re right there Malachi, I’ve seen quite a few old tomes in my time and I wouldn’t want just anyone handling them. Though most libraries, if they have the time and resources, usually try to copy them and use the copies for viewing while they carefully store the original. Some people though demand to see the original text and won’t settle for a copy...you should see the consternation on the librarian’s face then,” Colmarr says, smiling as his thoughts drift to the times spent researching with his father.
Mag shrugs at the discussion. "I'm a good learner, but I'll admit I've not been in a lot of libraries. I tend to pick things up from the people I encounter. A good performer has to know how to listen to his audience, after all. But I'm certainly willing to give it a go. This voyage is all about my exploring new avenues, after all. Who knows what's there for the finding?"
“Yes, that’s the way most people learn...only going to a library when they can’t find the information they seek by conventional means,” Colmarr adds.
Braer stays out of the conversation, watching the streets for signs of trouble. He went with Colmarr and Malachi.
Wakil has assumed his normal position in the group. He will stay with the group that intends to go to the market and then back to the bar to hear the ballad. He like Braer is keeping his eyes open for signs of danger.
Troth follows Colmarr and Naomi on their shoping. He keeps his eyes open for any sign of the merchants mens.
"I'll definitely have to give the library a go if it's not too expensive after I find a bow," Mag says with genuine interest. Then he points to a nearby stall "For now, though, I seem to recall a certain young lady in need of new raiment? That place looks promising."
Troth sees Grondar walking towards the tobacco stand “hey Grondar! Buy me some 20s in tobacco!” hoping Grondar heard him he turns to Colmarr, Naomi, Malachi and Braer. “hmrf” “hey mister” he talks to the tailor. “Can you sell me a piece of cotton cloth? In a white color?, I'm want to make a friend a turban with it. Double layer please”
He looks at Noonchuck standing some feet from him “hungry he?, I'm sure the tavern got some decent food or did he just sell Grog?” “we sure find out in time” ... “i think i see a food stand on the way to the Library” “we can make a quick stop there on our way” he points yonder
He adjust his own turban over the ears and around the neck “when we are done here we can go to the library”... “I'm not buying any dagger after all, i must save some money“ he places his rapier at his back and looks around, he didn't like this city at all, and keept looking around after the merchants men.
“Thanks Magyar,” Colmarr says, walking to the stall he points at, “I always find things set a little high in human communities, even though I’m very tall for a gnome.”
“Excuse me, do you have any garments that would fit people of our stature,” Colmarr asks of the stall proprietor, indicating Naomi and himself.
The group leaves the Sleeping Sailor and heads west, up and into Tortila. It is early evening; sunset is only a few hours away. When they reach the market, several shopkeepers have already packed up, especially the farmers and produce sellers from outside the city. The square which they enter actually has six or eight streets headed off in different directions, and a large, though worn, fountain stands in the center. For food, a man with a stall and a few cold meat pies is ready to sell them at a bargain, as well as jerky and sausage and salted pork. Nearby, the "hot corn on a stick" man is just packing up. A man selling clay pots sits by the fountain, smiling, his wares proudly displayed. On the other side of the square, a young woman is loading up a push-cart with unsold berries. Unseen at first, another man sits on the other side of the fountain, leaning against it.
Around the edges of the square are different storefronts. Signs can be seen proclaiming tailor, seamstress, and dressmakers, a cobbler, and a milliner. That would seem to indicate that this is the clothing section of the market. A stall is set up outside of one seamstress's shop where bolts of thick cloth are displayed. The proprietess, a stout woman of average height wearing a seamstress's apron and with a measuring cord around her neck, stands in the doorway fanning herself and watching the crowd disperse from the square.
Grondar buys corn-on-a-stick from the vendor*, though it's not all that hot now, and heads for the tailor to see about getting a winter coat. Later, he can likely find a tobbaconist in a square to the south. Troth follows Grondar into the tailor's shop.
Previously...
Why?
Now...
"Eeek! Oh, bless meh, yah nare gave meh thah hahrt attahck, yeh did. Now, arhen't yew thah wee fellow. Ahnd whoo's thes bonnie lahss, eh?" The woman says all this with a twinkle in her eye and a smile on her lips. "Ah, yah're sew dahrlin', Ah'm shar Ah kehn fahnd sohmthin' fahr yah. Cahm alohng weth mee, thhen." Turning, she enters her shop, beckoning them to follow.
Previously...
“My, aren’t you full of questions onia...well that has to do with how children are created. You see if a man and woman didn’t feel desire and pleasure when they joined to conceive a child, there would be little encouragement for them to do so, thus there would be fewer children born.”
Now...
Following the woman into the shop, Colmarr introduces them. "Well this pretty little lady here is my sister Lissa, and I am Colmarr, pleased to make your acquaintance miss..." he says, leaving the question of her name hanging.
Noonchuck follows along with the group. Following Grondor's lead, he'll try the corn on a stick and also try to buy some of the berries. Then, he'll go with the group into the clothing store, although he has little need for clothes himself.
One cold eat pie and batch of berries later, Denther is feeling much more settled and much less queasy. "You would think that so much time spent at sea you'd get used to it..." Wandering around after the others, Denther spies the onlooker at the fountain. "Mag, Colmar, there's someone on the other side of the fountain keeping an eye on us. I thought I should mention it."
Mag nods acknowledgement to Denther, though he avoids looking lest the watcher realize he's watched. Instead, he follows the two gnomes into the dress shop. He stifles a laugh as Colmarr verges into discussions on conception, but decides it best to stay out of the curious Naomi-Lissa's line of questions. If nothing else, Colmarr certainly seems difficult to stump.
Mag watches the choosing and fitting with polite interest, offering up his opinion when solicited, but otherwise merely observing ... and keeping an eye on the front door should Denther signal that there's trouble from their new friend by the water.
Previously...
Naomi screws up her brow as if concentrating. "What does a woman dancing around shaking her hips have to do with getting pregnant? I'm pretty sure you can't get pregnant unless you do . . . other things."
Well at least I don’t have to explain everything, Colmarr thinks, upon hearing Naomi’s latest thoughts.
“True onia, the dancing though can be something that leads a man to think and feel that he wants or needs to do the...other things. Of course some people are just happy watching and admiring a pretty woman as she dances too.”
"Do you like watching pretty women, oni?" Naomi's voice is no longer high and light, but has grown softer, more probing, more intimate.
“Yes onia, a pretty woman is always pleasant to look upon...why do you ask?” Colmarr inquires, noting the difference in Naomi’s voice.
"Does it make you want to do the other things, oni?"
“Sometimes perhaps...though it would depend on the woman onia.”
"Do you think I'm pretty, oni?"
“Yes onia, you are a pretty girl...though at your age most would call you cute.”
"Most have called me cute. Would you like looking upon me, oni?"
“That is a strange question onia, as it is not right to look upon children in such a way. Do you have something to tell me about yourself that would change my perspective about your status?” Colmarr asks quietly so no one else can hear, his suspicions growing with the recent questions on top of earlier events.
Earlier...
"What do you mean, oni? Why can you look upon other women and not upon me? I can dance. I've done it lots of times."
Now...
"Ah, blehss yah, yeyh've goht mahnair's, tew. Wahl, Ah'm Missuz Blangle, playzed tah maiht yew. Nahw, ahz fehr gharmehts, whell, Ah thank Ah mahght have suhem ehn chald's clothes, efhen yew dahn't mihnd. A puherty lhittel dress fhur tha laydee, ahn mayhap ha soot fher tha yew?" She raises her eyebrows in question.
Earlier...
“Well that is the thing onia, we are speaking about women and girls...now to my understanding you’re a girl...a child. I don’t think it’s appropriate for a girl to do the type of dancing that would make men think about the other things...nor do I think that it is appropriate to watch it if they were to do it. Of course if it is another type of dancing, well I would be happy to watch...what sort of dancing do you do onia?”
Now...
“Thank you Missus Blangle, a pleasure to meet you too. Well I’d prefer an adult style of clothes, but I imagine they may be hard to come by ready-made...we’ll definitely take a look at what you have though and see if they’ll work. If not well we might have to get something made...how long would that take?” Colmarr asks, flashing his most winning smile.
"Well, Colmarr, fashion does seem to be a slave to youth. Perhaps younger is better," Mag says with a wink and a mischievous smile.
“Well I don’t know about fashion being a slave to youth Magyar, but it’s definitely a slave to those with money. I’m sure you’ve seen some of the bizarre things that become fashion after the wealthy wear it a time or two...” Colmarr rejoins with a grin, as they examine the clothes on offer.
Earlier...
"I do all sorts of dancing, oni, whatever you want. I was trained. But I don't think I understand you very well. Are you saying I'm bad when I dance and make people want to do stuff?" Naomi's voice takes on a quality that is rather frightened and tearful.
Now...
"Ah, wheel, ihtaihn't laihk Hi gaughts hani hother cuhstum these daize. Iffen hyew dohn't fahnd suhmthin' hyew laihk, Hi rhaikon Hi khain phut tahgether suhmthin within tha nhaixt wheek hor so."
"Oh, hyew wholdn't bhelheeve who whas hin mhai shop jhust lhast whake! Why, hittwas tha Bharroness Redrook hairself! Now thar's ha Lhady whith han heye fhor fhashion! Twas hin bhuyin' fhar hair gharls, she whas."
A quick tour of the shop reveals a wide assortment of pretty clothes for young girls, and a few smart outfits for boys. Colmarr sees very little that would befit a gnome of his station, although there are some everyday work clothes available which would allow him to better blend into human society. Naomi darts here and there among the pretty clothes, many constructed in quite elaborate fashion compared to the pink dress she is currently wearing. There are pinafores and frocks and feastday dresses in pinks and light blues, greens, reds, and pale yellows. There are also a few dresses more suited to the house or garden, in earthy tones to match. After her initial exuberance, Naomi homes in on a pink pinafore with white smoking, not dissimilar to what she is currently wearing, though more elaborate and of warmer material.
"I like this one, oni," she says with a big smile.
As Naomi-Lissa darts about, Mag homes in on the proprietor. "Even with business slow, nobility in the shop must have been quite a bump. How many daughters does the Baronness have, anyway?" he queries politely.
When Naomi picks her dress, Mag says, "I do think pink is Lissa's signature color," adding a gentle smile to show he's not teasing.
Earlier...
“No onia, you’re not bad, I just don’t think that a young girl should be forced to dance like that. How old are you anyway?” Colmarr asks, after clarifying his previous thoughts.
Now...
“Well that’s very kind of you, but I don’t know that we’ll be here a week...I’m sure we’ll find something though, as you do seem to have quite a variety,” Colmarr replies continuing to smile, before he looks for clothes that might fit him.
“Yes, that looks lovely onia,” Colmar replies with a grin, “Why don’t you go find another dress as well, I’m sure you saw more than one you like...though perhaps in a different colour, after all we don’t want all your gowns to look the same.”
Colmarr gathers a set of the simpler work clothes for himself, in earth tones, as at least he can wear them aboard ship, keeping his entertaining clothes for more appropriate events.
“You could be right Magyar, though most other colours flatter her as well,” he says loudly enough for Naomi to hear, hopefully reinforcing his previous statement.
OOC: It’d be pretty hard for him to blend in with his beard, no matter what he wears.
Earlier...
"How old do you want me to be?" The child's voice has taken on a coquettish quality, but during the following speech it slowly reverts to the shy, withdrawn voice Naomi uses sometimes.
"Anyway, I like dancing. Most of the time."
"Oni, why is it bad for girls to make people think stuff when they dance but not for women? I mean, what if you're not trying to make people think stuff, you just dance like you're taught and sometimes people think stuff, but you don't mean for them to, you just like to dance, but sometimes they make you dance for bad people, and then they...they..." Near the end, Naomi begins to break down, but she stoically holds back her sobs, though she stops speaking.
“I’d like for you to be whatever age you are onia,” Colmarr replies comfortingly, his worst fears realised as he listens to the rest.
Holding Naomi gently as they walk, he speaks soothingly as he explains, “Well the difference onia, is that a woman should hopefully understand all the implications of their dancing and be prepared for whatever situation may arise from it. It has nothing to do with the dancing being bad on its own, just understanding and wanting to do it...I would feel the same way if a woman was forced to dance and do things against her will.”
“You did nothing wrong though onia,” Colmarr asserts quietly, but forcefully, “The people you were with just weren’t nice people!”
“Dancing is good though, and I like to dance too...though I’m not very good at it,” he says with a smile.
"Ok, oni," Naomi says, wiping her tears away. She proceeds the rest of the way to the market in silence.
At the seamstress's shop . . .
"Oh, he he hee!" the woman cackles. "Tha Bharonhess h'ain't nhobhilhity! He hee! Though dhon't lhet hair cahaitch hyew sayhin' hit! She howns thrhee ho' tha bhigghest Rhed Paharlours hin Tortuhilha! He he he! Hair gharls his fhamousse!"
Naomi's eyes light up. "Really, oni? I can have more than one?" Naomi darts away to look for another dress.
"Ohct! Puhaink, puhaink, puhaink, thait's hall they suhaim tay whant fhair they lhittel whons thaze dhaze. Tha Bharronhesse bhought thrae drhases hain puhaink. Shae lhaift suhaiverhal vhairhee lhuvlhee drhases hain blhue thait Hi thaink whould fhit lhittel Lhissah jhust puhairfaikt!"
"I like this one, oni!" Naomi says, holding up a light blue and white dress of similar cut to the first. It has layered frills around the hemline and is meant to be worn over thick layers of petticoats.
"Oh!" Mag says, blushing slightly. "I didn't realize ..." he trails off and regains his composure, replacing his charm as he returns, "Well, still, an important person about town, one supposes, which has to be something of a boon to a business."
Mag frowns at this revelation, and as Lissa darts about looking for dresses, he moves closer to the seamstress and lowers his voice considerably so that Lissa can't hear it. He keeps his tone one of general curiosity, downplaying his own dread of what he suspects the response might be.
"As I seem to be misinterpreting many things today, perhaps you could enlighten me, then? When you say the Baroness's 'girls,' is that a euphemism, or does this woman actually rent children for men's use?"
“Yes, that looks nice too onia! Well I think that will do us for today Missus Blangle...so what do we owe you for your fine creations?” Colmarr asks, oblivious to the fact the dress is meant to be worn over layers of petticoats.
"Ahm, ehck, whell..."
The proprietess looks stricken for a moment as if she realizes she may have said more than she should to these strangers in her shop.
Missus Blangle heaves a visible sigh of relief at Colmarr's interruption and quickly slides away from Magyar. "Hyew fhound shumthin hyew lhike, hey? Ho, hyes, theym's nhice..." The woman gives a nervous glance over her shoulder as if just remembering Magyar. Greed wars with prudence on her face before she turns quickly back to Colmarr with a great sigh, defeat evident in every line of her generous bulk as prudence wins out. A moment later, though, her smile is back, and she clasps her hands together. "Ah, hyewhall'll lhook suho luhuverlhee hin those, Hai cahouldint tahake mhore than ha ghold fhor tha lhot. Bhut Hai'm clhosing hup, nhaow, suho hyew'll have ta hahrry hup. Hiffhen hyew lhike, hyew jhust lhet mhe knhow whar hyawll're stahayin, han Hai'll have these delhivhaired tew hyew brhait hain hairly tahmharra mharnin."
The door to the shop bangs open and Braer enters, glancing around for Colmarr. He quickly spies his two shipmates and the little girl talking to the shopkeeper.
"Haim sahoree, saher, Haim cuhlhozed," the shopkeeper says as Braer walks over.
Colmarr digs out a gold coin, and holds it up for the woman, “There you go Missus Blangle, and a bargain too I must say. We’ll take the clothes with us, and if it‘s not too much trouble for you, could you wrap them so we can carry them more easily*.” Turning as Braer enters the shop, Colmarr looks at him and nods toward the door, indicating they’ll be out in a moment. Once the method of carrying the items is sorted out, Colmarr bows slightly, and says, “Thank you for your time Missus Blangle, it’s been a pleasure,” before leaving the shop.
Once outside the shop he heads over to the meat pie seller and purchases two cold pies, handing one to Naomi, before accepting the second. He then hurries over to the cobbler’s shop, as quickly as their burdens will allow with Naomi in tow...if it’s still open.
OOC:: *If the seamstress doesn’t wish to wrap, tie, or bag the clothes, Colmarr will just take them as they are, folding the garments over one arm.
Magyar raises an eyebrow at what he gleans from the seamstress's silence, but says no more. As they go to exit the shop, he moves to help Colmarr with the bundles, hanging close to the gnome.
Once they've re-entered the square, Mag looks about nervously, whispering to Colmarr, "I know the boys have themselves an evening planned, but we might want to head back early. I may have inadvertantly drawn a bit too much attention to us. Seems Lissa isn't the only girl in ... her sort of situation. This 'Baronness' seems to specialize in ... youngsters. She may or may not be connected to our new best enemy, and she's apparently got herself some clout in this neighborhood. I'm afraid my queries into that weren't as circumspect as I might have hoped."
“Yes, I heard, but I don’t think the seamstress will tell anyone of her slip. You’re probably right that we should head back early Magyar, though I’d like to hear the song, even if we skip the other entertainment,” Colmarr replies, just as quietly.
Bolstered by the gnome's agreement, Mag's stomach finally reminds him it's empty. He, too, gets a meat pie, eating it greedily, though still looking about to see that any others nearby haven't taken any special interest in the group.
The seamstress quickly bundles the clothes together and ties them with a bit of twine before hurrying the group out of her store with another vague, half-mumbled comment about needing to close up.
Outside, shadows grow long as the sun sets behind the hills. The man selling clay pots has packed his remaining wares into large panniers which he shoulders before heading east. Mery has finished packing up her berries on her pushcart and is preparing to head out as well, to the north west.
Cold meat pies are purchased, and Naomi fairly inhales hers, licking her fingers of the last few crumbs. "Thank you, oni," she says.
Mag is only slightly less energetic eating his own purchase, but not by much. Eating was so much simpler with the troupe, scheduled and done in shifts as it was. Such is the complication of independent living, he decides.
Licking his fingers, Mag notices the darkness looming, and nods back in the direction of the pub they visited earlier.
"I believe we had a song to be enjoying? Perhaps we should track down the others and head for that before it gets too late?"
Colmarr, having only finished half of his pie says, “You’re welcome onia...you can have the rest of this pie too if you’d like,” as they start towards the cobbler’s shop. Stopping as Magyar voices his concern, he remarks, “I suppose you’re right, I guess Lissa will have to wait until tomorrow for her new shoes,” before they move to join the rest of the group.
Malachi smiles, "Well, it took you long enough. I trust the new dresses are perfect, though?" He starts for the tavern, again. "Yes, we'll have some song tonight and shoes in the morning."
“Yes, they’re very nice, and Lissa likes them, which is the most important thing,” Colmarr says, smiling at Naomi. “Though we didn’t take much longer than those that went to the tailors shop, after all when Braer came into the shop we were on our way out. Hmm, was there anything in the taylor's shop in my size by chance?” he asks to the group in general, not sure who went in the tailor’s shop exactly.
"Sorry, I didn't have time to look around. The tailor was trying to shoo my away... he can make anything, he says, though." says Malachi, shrugging.
“So the seamstress said too Malachi, but we may not be here long enough for anything to be made, as she said a week or so,” Colmarr replies with a wry smile.
[Edit -- We lost a large scene involving the Tailor, another interesting character, and Troth, Braer, Grondar, and Malachi. Troth picked up some cloth for a turban for Braer. We also lost the scene involving N'un T'Chauck, Wakil, and Malachi with Mery the berry seller. A few berries and a little flirting were exchanged. We also lost a short scene involving a begger, and another scene with the meat pie & meat-on-a-stick sellers where we learn more about bad things going on in town and trouble to the south.]
Mag chuckles mirthlessly. "I certainly enjoy being on land that doesn't sway again," he says as he continues to look around, trying his best not to start at every shadow, "But given the *ahem* 'fun' we've found here, I'd just as soon our time in port were short-lived."
Naomi looks at Colmarr and Magyar accusingly and says in a heartbroken voice, "You're going to leave me?"
"Of course not, Lissa," Mag says quickly, though he founders after saying it, looking to Colmarr, then trying himself to explain. "We promised to keep you safe, and that's exactly what we intend to do. It's just that I think it would be easier to keep you safe somewhere other than here."
Putting on his best show, he continues: "Captain has himself a wonderful ship. And I should think you'd be the envy of everyone if you got to have yourself adventures on the high seas at so young an age."
Caught up in his performance, Mag swings hops up and swings around a nearby lamppost. Standing on its base, he pretends to rock with the waves and survey the sea. He pantomimes drawing a sword and flourishing it as he adds, "Why, you'd be like a ... a swashbuckling princess!"
Naomi giggles and Magyar's antics. "Oh, thank you, Magyar! I'm sure I would like adventure on the high seas very much, but what's a swash and why would I buckle it?"
“Of course not onia,” Colmarr replies, grinning at the show Magyar puts on, as he finds himself having to back up his own words.
Braer chuckles softly as he remembers the days antics. He decides to wait untill later to figure out what the 'fun' with the seamstress was.
"Are you ready, Naomi (*should be Lissa*)? We're going to listening to the singing now."
"Who is Naomi?" Braer asks, and goes to help Magyar immitate swashbuckling.
"Ah, it's a shame." Malachi looks at Lissa, "You look just like my cousin, Lissa. I'm sorry.
"So, ready to go?"
Mag abandons his mimed sword and returns to the group, smiling. "Actually, I think you'd be swashing bucklers, though I could be entirely wrong on that one." Mag leans in to add with an air of confidentiality. "Really, though, I think it's probably best to avoid bucklers and actual fighting either way, though it is exciting to think about, yes?"
Mag claps once, as if calling for an audience's attention, then finishes with, "Now then, let's go hear about some more adventures back at the pub."
"Yes, on to the pub with our bukle swashing" Braer responds as he heads towardss the pub.
Naomi laughs at her friends, then skips around them, her bare feet causing little dust clouds to pop into the air. She shoots a hand out as if to make a grab at the front of Magyar's belt, and does the same to Braer. "Look, I'm buckle swashing!" she giggles. "I bet I can swash more buckles than you!"
Colmarr watches Naomi enjoy herself with her buckle swashing antics, keeping an eye out to see if anyone noticed Malachi’s slip.
"Standing in the middle of the square is not really getting us anywhere. I say we head to wherever we're going."
Well guys, If you had your fun and finished it, I suggest we proceed to the real fun says Grondar and watch as the little girl plays with the buckles. He goes to Colmarr and say in Gnomish I suggest you put the little girl in the ship, the deck's pubs are not a place for a little girl at night. He then turns to the others and says in common I understand that some of you want to hear the ballad on the sunken ship ... or whatever it is about, I for myself, don't want to go back to the "Sleeping Sailor" (where we were earlier) I prefer, as I said before, to go to the "Arrow in the bull" tavern, they have some strong ale, and you can gamble over their, you can find me later across the street at "Margarita's Wenchs" He giggle to himself Got to satisfy my needs. he says and pats on Troth and Nunchuck shoulders while he pass between them and starts walking to the dock area
Braer dodges just out of her reach in the general direction of the square (continuously)
Walks up to the group "So did anybody learn anything of intrest about this place?
“Well Grondar, how about we all go listen to the Ballad of the Jenny, which won’t take all that long, then you and whoever is going with you can drop some of us off at the ship, before you head off to continue your night. Deal?” Colmarr declares more than asks, as they head out of the market district.
“Nothing I didn’t already guess at from earlier events,” Colmarr replies to Wakil, glancing furtively at Naomi as he does so.
Wakil moves up next to Colmarr... "What did you come to conclusion to basesed on early events?" ... he asks keeping his voice down.
“That there seems to be a trade in young girls, a rather vibrant trade if I heard correctly, in the red houses here,” Colmarr replies, pitching his voice so even Wakil strains to hear him, as Naomi plays with Magyar and Braer.
I wonder if that is why the berry girl was nervous about getting home after dark? I have an inclination that maybe two or three of us should track her. She said she dosn't live far from here. If we stay back from her she will not even know we are there since, she turned down direct help, even though she hesitated when she did so. Those that track her can catch up to the rest that do not at the bar. I would also think it prudent for us to stay out of Red Roofed Houses. We wouldn't want to get caught with our pants down in the middle of a hornets nest of our percieved enemy.
I am going to go and get a piece of leather that fits better than this one. Then, go after Mery. spread the word that I need one or two others. We will meet at the gate that she is leaving by... she can't have made it far, not hauling that cart.
“I think you may need to leave your leather for tomorrow Wakil, as the shops all seem to be closing. As for the berry girl, I imagine the streets just aren’t very safe here after dark in small numbers, considering the haste with which we were rushed from the seamstress’ shop. I mean I’ve never seen a shopkeeper who won’t keep their business open for a few more minutes, especially when they have paying customers...” Colmarr reasons, as Wakil is about to depart.
The shops do appear to be closing, though none so hastily as the seamstress' shop.
Naomi chases Braer around the square as the others slowly prepare to head out.
"There was definitely something strange about the girl, and that old man. They seemed afraid of something... I could probably follow her trail, if necessary." Noonchuck volunteers, remembering the berry-girl's smile.
As he gets pated by Grondar Troth looks at him “aye grondar i also want to gamble some and see if i can get me a woman” “but first duties” “escort those who is going to the ship after the ballad thing” “after that we can take our own way”
“I think that a good plan little one” he replies
“noonchuck” “I dont think it to wise to just go out there this late and on our first night here” “at last we should have a effective warning signal or something...” he speaks out to the whole group “any of you got any idea how to have a good warning signal?”
Mag lets Braer lead Lissa around for a moment, catching his breath and the jist of the conversations being bandied about.
"I've got my whistle," Mag offers, lifting it on its string at his neck. "But only the one, so only one group would be able to signal. I've a small bell back on the ship, but--well, the time to get there and back probably isn't worth it if you mean to follow this girl promptly."
"I'm not sure following the girl is really necessary," Malachi starts, "She makes the trip all the time, and she's leaving early so that she won't run into trouble. Why would she be attacked today? What makes today different? Would you follow her to and from her house every day?"
Troth Nods at his statement.
Colmarr glances up at Troth, after being called little one, looking displeased for several seconds before he grins and winks.
Leaving the big folk to their discussion, Colmarr begins to softly hum a happy tune as he watches Naomi at play, nonchalantly looking out for anyone who seems overly interested in the girl or their group.
"Normally no, I would not follow her home; especially every night, but I still am unsure of why the girl hesitated. It should not harm anyone by following her and if something happens we will be there. Either way we shall catch up with you tonight at the bar. It dosn't look like I have time to get my leather yet another thing I will have to do tomorrow. Anyone that wants to come with me lets head out." Wakil turns and begins going the way the Mery left.
"Well, Wakil," Malachi nods, "I've known you a long time, and trust your instincts. If you think something is odd tonight, the Sword of Adonai shall follow the Shield." He catches up with Wakil, "Maybe someone can tell me the story of the Jenny later."
"It is always beneficail to have the Sword and Shield of Adonai togther. Thanks for coming Malachi."
“That shouldn’t be a problem, as I’m sure to sing it at some point later on,” Colmarr replies, as Malachi heads after Wakil.
Wakil and his companions move out after Mery the berry vendor. They move quickly and quietly. It is dusk, a time when shadows trick the eye and what you see may be different than what is.
The gates to the city stand open, and there is a steady stream of people mostly coming in, although a few are headed out. The majority look to either be coming in from the fields or headed out after a day of vending in the marketplace. Once out of the gates and into the countryside, Wakil & company can move quickly, and they haven't gone far before they see young Mery hauling her cart. The country rolls gently here, trending up hill. It isn't long before they have crested several rises and the city is lost to view. Not long after that, the road appears empty. It passes out from the fields surrounding the city and enters under the skeletal branches of winter trees just coming in to their spring foliage. Night falls quickly, and the last rays of daylight give way to twisting shadows.
Up ahead, Mery takes a right off the main road onto a track that leads back into the forest. Underbrush is scarce here, but a low hedge, about chest high, lines the path, and it meanders with the topography of the land.
Meanwhile, the rest of the crew heads back down toward the docks, seeking the Sleeping Sailor. Naomi skips ahead, kicking up little clouds of dust with eash step. The seedy underbelly of Tortila, curiously absent during the day, is much more in evidence as the leaden sun's last rays disappear behind the tree-topped hills, plunging the streets into gray. Day laborers, sailors, junior craftsmen, and even a few lesser merchants wander the dim avenues. There are no lamp posts here, but light, warm and inviting, pours out from the windows and doors of taverns and other buildings. Raucous noise with a bit of an edge to it spills into the streets. It seems that, while those who are able have left the city, folks who make their living one day at a time can't afford to leave their livelihood, so they stay and live as they have always lived: one day--and night--at a time.
OOC: I really want to get moving, especially after the down time over the weekend, so until I hear otherwise I will assume that Magyar is headed to the tavern and N'un T'Chauck is headed after Mery. I will intentionally keep the posts vague in order to slip them in whereever they like once they chime in, and I will edit if needed.
Colmarr tries to keep up with Naomi, only letting her get two or three steps ahead, as he doesn’t want her too far out of reach with the darker side of the city starting to waken...humming a walking song as they move towards the docks.
Everyone's step feels lighter and springier as they move toward the docks.
OOC: OotS reference to the bard singing.
Troth walks at the end of the group scaning the shady corners as they pass by. He stays alert to any trouble.
Mag feels an odd sense of relief and dread as the sun begins to fall. His troupe's performances were always in the evening, with the benefit of torchlight to add atmosphere and mask their trickery all together. Dusk has always brought back the slight thrill of upcoming performance, then. But knowing their current circumstances, the other people darkness might be aiding gives the former magician a slight queasiness.
Keeping in mind the shorter stride of his gnomish companion and the small girl, Mag does his best to pick up the pace and get to the relative safety of the indoors and a tale of adventure.
Presently, the crew reaches the Sleeping Sailor. There are a number of men here moving up and down the street, some ducking into alleys, others merging into the flow. Music and noise spill forth from the open door of the Sleeping Sailor. There seem to be fewer taverns on the street than can account for the large number of pedestrians.
Naomi skips up to the door and peers in before shrinking back against Colmarr. Inside the tavern, men are guzzling grog and cat-calling at a woman onstage who is singing a song and dancing. A man on a stool next to her is playing some sort of small, multi-stringed instrument in his hands, and another man thumps time on a hand drum. The woman is tall, with brassy red hair and pale skin. She wears a short little red dress that ends just above the knee, fluffed out by white petticoats. Her bodice is cut to display a generous amount of pale, rounded bossom. The ties seem to have come loose and are slowly unlacing themselves. As the crew enters, her song has just ended to roars of approval and calls for more. Barmaids with permanent smiles plastered on their faces scurry among the crowds of men in their short, fluffy skirts and tight shirts, refilling drinks and receiving a frequent pinch or slap on the rump for their effort.
The patrons of the Sleeping Sailor do not appear to be carrying weapons, though most belts show a dagger or utility knife of some kind. Though the room appears quite crowded at first, there are seats available near the bar and a few tables near the door, distant from the stage and the entertainment.
As our heroes make their way to the bar or to find seats, a new song begins with sensual gyrations and throaty insinuations from the woman on stage.
There are so many mighty pines
Thrusting up from the frosty, wooded hills;
Who bare needles to prick, as sharp as spines,
And think they can drink where they wills.
On a Springtime morn, by happenstance,
While chill dew lay thick in the air,
I skipped by in my flitting dance,
Fey flow'rettes adorning my hair.
But, hah, I carried axe to down
You! Poor old aging lodgepole pine;
A blade to strip and clip your crown,
And take what I wanted as mine!
But don't worry; I'll bring you to my home,
Though you feel so utterly wrecked,
Then I'll let down my hair and with gentle arom',
Quickly bring you back tow'ring erect.
I'll twine your pole in ribbon faire,
I'll dance about your upthrust shaft;
You, my May Pole, arisen bare
Delight me in my song and laugh.
I'll show you, when you're close enough,
Your steady, strong, and sturdy will;
And when May-Day dance we with clothes off,
Come near, my fertile land we'll till.
As she sings, she tosses her skirts in a way that reveals layered petticoats and a touch of something more. Near the end of the song, the ties come loose on her bodice, and only a deft grab saves her from -- well, something that probably costs extra. The song finishes to loud hoots and hollars. Men bang the benches and tables, and call for more grog.
OOC: "The Saga of the Mighty Pine", adapted. Originally composed by me.
Colmarr tries to keep Naomi from hearing the rather bawdy lyrics, by casting a lullaby spell on her, before placing his hands over her ears and shielding her from the stage though he finds he can’t manage to block her view of some of the patrons with the barmaids, as he just doesn’t have enough hands. While he keeps Naomi out of harms way he asks his companions, “Can one of you ask the barkeep if we have missed the Ballad of the Jenny? As if we have, I see no point in us staying right now as Lissa doesn’t need to see this...”
Troth is fascinated by the woman whit the pale skin and red dress that sings giving her “the look” now and then in hope to catch her attention. He look at her intensely only distracted by the barmaids in their thigh outfit and one or other customer that is giving the singer the same look as he is, looking at them grining and showing thees at them. He hold the nod of his rapier that is at his belt now hidden under his cloack..
Between one of the songs he bends down to Colmarr's head level “you wanna take her to the ship?” “I can escort you there and then we can come back” “you tell me when you are ready to go Colmarr”
Standing near Troth, Grondar sees the Barbarian's look at the girl and laugh loudly. Oh.. Dear friend he says with a smile This place is "weak" if you compare it to the "Arrow in the bull" tavern, the beer is more tasty and the women is more ... He scratch his forehead and tries to find the proper word .. Huh ... agile and flex, yes that's the word. He grabs one of the barmaids in the wrist Say, pretty lady, have we missed the Ballad of the Jenny?
Mag, distracted by trying to help Colmarr obstruct Lissa's view, doesn't notice Grondor's tactic until it's already happened. He opens his mouth to object to the rough treatment of the wait staff, then bites back on the sentiment. Best to keep the thug on his good side, he thinks, and goes back to trying to take Lissa's attention off of the bar's current entertainment.
Braer stands inbetween Lissa and most of the room, obstructing her view as much as possible while shaking his head at the song.
"Hey, I can't see what's going on!" Naomi struggles in Colmarr's arms. "Mag, Braer, I'm little here!" Before long, though, Colmarr's lullaby has the desired effect, and the girl calms down, snuggling back against the gnome.
Those nearby begin to fall under Colmarr's spell as well, zoning out a bit. One man at another table, already deep in his drink, falls forward and begins snoring softly. Grondar, Magyar, and Denther, too, become drowsy and inattentive. Troth is simply too intent on watching the show to let himself be distracted, while Braer remains very concious of the young Naomi and the need to shield her from the show.
"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about, sir, but perhaps the bard will play that song if you ask him," she replies, deftly slipping from his suddenly relaxed grip.
“Well I guess we needn’t bother to stay then, as I doubt the other patrons would be happy with our choice. Let’s get our group outside Braer, Troth, and you can take us back to the ship,” Colmarr says shuffling Naomi outside, before he dismisses the spell.
Mag, his tongue feeling heavy and his thoughts slow, simply nods at the gnome's suggestion. "I think I could use some fresh air to clear my head, in any case," he offers as he moves to the exit.
"But the waitress didn't say we missed it, only that she didn't know what we're talking about. I'll talk to the barkeep himself before we leave. It would be a shame to come all the way over here and to miss the song, would it not." Braer pauses to make sure they have everything under control, and then moves off to find the barkeep from earlier.
As the woman finishes her song, the drummer stands and moves to the front of the stage. He is a large, burly man with thick arms and fingers like sausages. His head is bald, but a black beard wraps around his chin leaving his upper lip bare. His voice, loud and rough, projects over the noise of the tavern.
"Thank you, thank you, Maggie is done for the evening. She will be available for private shows until dawn at the Panting Dog." The man steps down off the stage, helping Maggie after him. Her slim hands hold his arm as they exit the Sleeping Sailor. Immediately, more than a few of the men get up and follow the pair out, talking and laughing and jeering each other. Shortly, the room has emptied of about a third of its former occupants, and there is room to breathe and spread out. The tables nearest the stage are almost completely cleared out, but they are a mess of spilled drinks and vomit.
On stage, the man with the stringed instrument has stayed behind. He sits on his stool, tuning the device, and ostensibly paying no attention whatsoever to the patrons of the tavern. He is a clean-cut fellow with a short, black goatee and sensible clothes. There is a look of softness about him that is out of place in this rough wharfwater pub.
Hearing the announcement right after Braer speaks. “Yes, you do that Braer, we’ll just keep ourselves out of the way while this lot clears out,” Colmarr replies, not quite having made it outside yet with Naomi, he moves them out of the way so that those leaving have a clear path to the door. Dismissing the spell as soon as the dancer and her entourage begin to exit the building.
Denther sits at the table in the tavern and quietly watches the dancing and randy lyrics of the song. The lulaby spell blocks out most of the lyrics but can't block out what se sees. At the point of the ties coming loose, he almost stands but, since she is able to recover, he sits back down.
After everyone clears out he will move closer to the stage, more than willing to move cups and mugs to be closer to the bard.
Mag makes his way through the thinning crowd, moving to the stage and putting on a look of comraderie for the performer. When he's close enough, he politely interrupts the bard.
"I'm terribly sorry, but is it too early for requests? My friends and I hear 'The Ballad of Jenny' is quite a number."
The musician remains concentrated on his instrument, but a small smile curves his lips. "Aye, I'm sure it is." He cocks his head to one side, strumming an experimental chord and adjusting a tuning peg slightly. "'Tis said t'will be a mighty ballad, that of the Jenny. Which, I'm sure, is mighty valid, and known to many. Poets and heroes by the score have been thouroughly bitten, by a strange and curious lore that has yet to be written." He smiles and strums another chord, and his voice takes on an oratory sound. "But come, sit, listen close, and I'll tell you all a tale," strum ", of a poor young man who loved to sail." Strum. "He loved the sea, and he loved his life," major chord, "And at twenty-one years, he took a wife." He begins to strum chords, launching into a full voiced chorus.
"Jenny: his joy upon the sea;
For Jenny alone he lived and breathed.
His wife passed on from this ol' world
And left for him a baby girl."
The music turns soft, and his fingers pick out a lilting melody during the following verses, dropping back to grand chords during the chorus.
"She grew up quick and she grew up tall;
She learned to swim before she could crawl.
He taught her to sail upon the blue water,
And together they lived, loving father and daughter.
Jenny: his joy upon the sea
For Jenny alone he lived and breathed.
She was his joy and every pride.
He lived for her; he would have died.
In her eighth year they together set sail
When the demons of Hell sent a furious gale;
They rode the wind as for weeks it railed,
But in the end all efforts failed.
Jenny: his joy stole by the sea;
Jenny: washed away with his pride;
Jenny: for her he'd lived and breathed;
Jenny, his only daughter, had died."
Here, the melody turns soft and sad, and the bard seems lost to the music. The instrumental continues for a mintute or two before picking back up.
"The morning after he found her beached
Face down in the sand, the life from her leached.
He swore then together forever would be
Father and daughter upon the sea."
The ballad suddenly switches to a minor key, becoming quite eerie.
"Over her body he swore a vow
To shape with his own hands a new prow.
He cut down timbers to lay the spars,
And then one night beneath the cold stars
He built her bones into the boat
That she would always be afloat.
Within the bluff bow of the hull
He embedded her sightless skull,
And with her blood he inked red letters
To create strong Earth bound fetters
To anchor the soul of his innocent daughter
Forever with him upon the blue water."
The melody changes again, to sound like a shadow of its former self; but only a shadow.
"Jenny: his pride upon the sea
For Jenny alone he lived and breathed
On her deck he smiled again,
His pain absorbed by sun and wind.
Father and daughter again did ride
'Pon cresting wave and waning tide,
Traversing the globe both far and wide
He lived for her; he would have died—
But for Jenny, his ship upon the sea.
When he ran her on a reef
She held him close within her lee,
The only place with air to breathe.
He made it back to land alone;
Jenny was covered o'er by the foam.
For years he wept most bitterly
For his world, flooded by the sea.
Come, listen close and I'll tell you a tale
Of a poor old man who'd loved to sail.
He'd loved the sea and he'd loved his life
Til the ocean stole his daughter and wife.
And then it sunk his ship and sail—
But Jenny's story is another tale..."
They are lucky they don't hear this boring tales. I wonder what they are doing. Say Grondar to himself as he think about Malachi, Wakil and Nun'Tchuck. The big thug lean on the wall next to the door, waiting patiently for his friends to leave and for him to go drink, gamble and have more intimate joy
Meanwhile, back at the Sleeping Sailor...
Though the bard's performance is excellently executed, some members of the audience are less than impressed.
"Boo! That songs sucked!" one man sitting next to Denther shouts, standing and throwing his drink at the bard. The musician merely leans over his instrument, casually letting the drink fly over his head, and begins picking out a quick jig.
"Hey, I liked it!" another man one table over says, standing and pushing back his bench. "It's a classic sea shanty, and you'd know that if you were a real sailor in stead of some wharf-rat scum!"
A man in the back jumps to his feet. "Wharf rat scum, huh!? At least we know how to take care of our families and our city, 'stead of runnin' away like some yellow-bellied sailor!"
At that, men are leaping up all over the bar, hurling curses and insults, and punches are thrown. The man next to Denther grabs the ranger's drink and hurls it at the second man, who blocks with his arm in a spray of grog, then charges over and tackles the man. They crash into Denther, and all three end up in a pile on the floor.
The musician's fingers are flying over the strings in a blazing score to fit the mayhem of the tavern, and he smiles smugly to himself.
Just about ready to walk over to the bard to congratulate him on his wonderful telling, Colmarr ducks back as the fight breaks out to protect Naomi. Seeing the man’s smug smile as he plays a frenetic melody which mirrors the feel of the room spurring on the combatants, Colmarr raises his voice in song...a peaceful song about fields and woodlands. Directly contrary to the current mood suffusing the establishment, in an attempt to calm the fighting.
Braer attempts to stay away from the fray as much as possible and help get everyone out before the fight gets out of hand, if he does move near the fray (or if it encompases the entire tavern) he makes sure not to touch anyone.
Denther! Shouts the Thug, finally there is some excitement in this pathetic place. He thinks, takes out his sap and jump into the quarrel, trying to free Denther, Grondar Will punch in the head those who are on top of the ranger.
Denther sits, rapt attention to the ballad of Jenny, quietly weeping at the death of the daughter. After the ballad has ended, and man next to him disparages the tale, he starts to say something but is suddenly landed upon by two men. >WHUF< 'fush. I do not need to be at the bottom of this pile.' Denther begins climbing out of the pile, puching, kicking, elbowing, anything to make his way out.
As the fuzz starts Troth not seeing any weapon been drawn, he folds his shirt up to his elbow showing theets and two fists to those that are near Colmarr “Hey Grondar!” “having fun?!”
Mag grimaces as the small fight breaks out. He turns back to the bard to add dryly "You certainly know how to get a crowd going, don't you?" He flips a silver onto the stage, nodding his thanks, then moves to help Colmarr shield Naomi and let the bigger men help Denther out from under his new friends.
The Sleeping Sailor is quickly embroiled in a huge, old fashioned bar fight.
Braer immediately dodges a blow and moves to the edge of the tavern, where there is little fighting. Occasionally, someone will be thrown from the melee and slam into the wall, to either get up and wade back in or slump in a lifeless heap.
Colmarr begins singing a peaceful, calming tune. For his trouble, the quick little gnome receives a random fist in the chops that sends him sprawling. Seems like everybody's a critic. Naomi rushes forward, beating at the man who hit Colmarr and kicking him in the shins with her bare feet. The man curses at the little annoyance, taking a swipe at the girl. The swing goes wild.
The nameless bard has ceased playing. He smiles at Magyar and scoops up the silver with a nod, replying, "The high strung emotions of the unwashed masses leads to this conduct of braying jackasses." He then exits the stage, gliding along the wall toward the back of the bar.
Troth and Magyar both single out Colmarr and Naomi, and move to the rescue. Both react with lightning speed, but Magyar gets there first, dodging blows and taking a hurt when a man rolls into his leg and twists his knee. Troth dodges several blows along the way, but takes a punch in the side and a nasty smack to the temple that has him seeing spots for a moment. Magyar reaches Naomi's attacker just as the ruffian reaches for the girl. The ex-performer grabs the man's hand and drives his fist into the man's midsection, doubling him over. Troth clobbers the man from behind, grabbing him and throwing him into a nearby table where he collapses with a crash.
Grondar smashes his sap over the skull of one of the two men on top of Denther, while the ranger wriggles out from under them and struggles to his feet. The man Grondar hit collapses in a lifeless heap, blood flowing from a bloody patch on the back of his skull. "Thank you, friend," the other man says, getting up.
"Hey, wharf rat!" someone calls from behind Grondar. He turns just in time to duck under a right hook from an enraged sailor.
Mag winces at his twisted knee, but launches forward anyway, relieved to arrive in time to keep little Lissa from harm. As Troth finishes off the man, Mag gives a quick, scanning look to catch the eyes of Colmarr, Lissa, and Troth, and announces "I think it's time to go, yes?" and makes for the closest exit, doing his best to avoid combatants as they go but keeping an eye out if anyone tries to rush their young charge.
The Adrenalin flows in the veins as Grondar duck from the sailor's right hook. Oh … you son of Baatezu !! Shouts the big Thug, he swings his sap towards the sailor's jaw with all his heart.
Picking himself up off the floor near the wall and rubbing his face, Colmarr nods to Magyar as he grabs Naomi’s hand and leads her out of the tavern by the door they were standing right next to before he was so rudely struck.
OOC: Don’t know where Colmarr went sprawling exactly as he was pretty much up against the outside wall near the door, keeping himself and Naomi out of harms way. :S
Very happy to be out of the pile, "Thanks for dragging me out of that, Grondar." Denther will defend himself but not actively attack while he tries to see where the bard went.
Troth nods at Magyar and follows Colmarr trough the door.
Braer follows the others outside, still avoiding the brawl as much as possible.
Back in town, Grondar's sap smashes into the sailor's jaw with a bone crunching SNAP! The man gargles in pain, falling to his knees and clutching at his ruined face. Another man swings from Grondar's blind side, punching him in the kidney, but the big thug barely feels it through his chain shirt. The man swears in surprise, backing off and shaking his hand in pain.
Denther spies the bard exiting by the back door near the bar. A metal beaker hits Denther in the back of the head, hard, splashing grog all over him.
Troth, Colmarr, and Magyar cluster around Naomi, headed for the door. Before they reach it, two men with their arms locked together crash through the door and begin rolling around in the dust of the street, punching fiercly. From the center of the room there is the crash of splintering wood. Nearby, a fierce looking man with thick arms punches a smaller man in the face, who stumbles backwards into Troth.
Braer moves along the wall toward the group around Naomi, stopping as a man is thrown into the wall in front of him, then stepping over the body.
OOC: I didn't realize that Colmarr was so close to the wall and door. I guess he was knocked into the wall, then? Perhaps he slid along it before falling to the floor, or perhaps he was knocked sideways to the floor.
Colmarr continues to take Naomi out the front door, after the men begin to roll around in the street...not at all amused by their behaviour.
OOC: I’ll just assume he was knocked sideways along the wall, as he moved to protect Naomi (post #723). They (Colmarr and Naomi) were almost out the door, actually they were out the door before the bard started (post #706), but then Braer said he’d inquire about the song so they moved aside to let the dancer leave instead of completely leaving (post #710). Not that Colmarr would have gone far into the room with Naomi, once it was obvious what type of entertainment was on stage, so they would always have been right near the door, just out of the direct doorway.
How Dare you ... you Abyysal creature! Grondar curse the man who tried to punch him in the kidney. he turns around and tries to lower his sap to the man's torso he will then back away to where Colmarr and the others are.
Mag widens his eyes as the men crash through the doors, but has to smile at having the way opened for them. He affords a quick glance to make sure Troth is largely unaffected by the man falling toward him, then feels a faint sense of relief seeing Grondor and his sap moving toward them.
"Denther! Time to beat feet!" Mag calls out as he continues to press for the door, using his experience from the stage to project his voice over the cacophany.
In front of the Sleeping Sailor, the two fighters have disengaged and are on their feet, circling each other.
Inside, Grondar swipes at the man with his sap. The man backs away from the big thug. His eyes flick past Grondar's left shoulder, giving the thug enough warning to dodge to the side. A bar stool swings through the air where he had been standing and smashes against the floor. The man who had swung it curses.
A way is clear to the front door, where the crew waits with Naomi. Will Denther & Grondar head that way, stay and fight, or choose to go after the bard, who has exited out the back?*
The crew members slip out the front door into the street, where the two dueling men have pulled their daggers. They are crouched low, wrists flicking.
"Son of a wharf whore! Your blood shall stain these streets tonight!"
"What would I know of whores, you rutting goat? I don't have to pay a woman to be near me!" The man darts in with his dagger, and when the two break apart again, there is blood in the street. A crowd of rough men and soiled doves have gathered and begun to jeer the fighters on.
"Stick it to th' wharf-rat, mate!"
"Show that boat-slime what a real man is!"
"Lookit th' blood'n sweat! Yeeheehee!"
The calls grow more and more partisan, and the crowd is turning ugly, turning on each other. Old hatreds, fueled by fear and sparked by blood, burst into a conflagration as men begin punching and hitting. Weapons are drawn quickly, and even the women carry knives in their skirts. The streets are alive with blood and fury!
The crew of the Pander Ban attempts to shield Naomi, pressed against the front of the Sleeping Sailor. They move along toward their right, toward the alley which is dark, but clear.
Troth stays with Colmarr and Naomi trying keep them out of trouble as he can, dodgin whatever is been trown at him or persons tumbling at him. "lets get fast to the ship" he says taking Naomi under his arm like a little bag protecting her with his arms.
Just about having his shoulder yanked out of it’s socket as Troth grabs Naomi and tucks her under one arm, Colmarr places his now free hand on the hilt of his dagger as they continue toward the alley, from which they can hopefully retrace their route to the ship. “Yes, let’s get out of here, things are getting very ugly...”
OOC: I must say, the fight outside the Sleeping Sailor has progressed far faster than we have, considering we were on our way outside when the two men apparently dashed past us out the door. I know you’re going for a dramatic scene, and I’m all for that, but believability is starting to get a little stretched for me, as it seems we’ve waited for the worst possible moment to leave the building for apparently no reason (rather than leaving at the earliest opportunity which is what Colmarr was trying to do).
Edit: Not that I'm particularly worried or want a rewrite, but it does seem a bit contrived.
Braer runs after Troth looking back over his shoulder to make sure no one takes too much notice of their progress.
Seeing a clear way to the door, Grondar runs outside Wow… it's getting nastier over here He says as he circles the crowd and the quarrel outside. He tries to spot his friends, if he doesn't see them, he waits for Denther to get out. Sap in hand he readies himself for anything.
Mag cringes at the bloodlust that is apparently both growing and following their little group. As the others move off, Mag follows, drawing his dagger and holding it to either stab or throw as necessary, though hoping he has to do neither. [If/when] he catches sight of Grondor and Denther, he'll do his best to signal them, though he avoids using his whistle. The last thing they need is to draw the attention of the crazed mob.
Troth walks down the alley some feet and puts Naomi down to the ground, he crunches down and whisper to her. "be quiet child" whit a soft voice....
He stand up and turns around to rest "lets wait here for the rest, seems a quiet alley" ... "Grondar is right around the corner and Denther is still inside" he quickly move to the corner and gets Grondar attention "pst! we are waiting at you over here"
"This is a good old fashion fight" " He says in a low voice lending to the wall "Grondar are good whit that sap..." Troth smiles a big smile "i like these fights but when im off duty, ha you should have seen the fight wee had at my former job" "almost the whole port when into a fight about a shipment of beans" "even the marshal couldnt help his soldier getting into the fight whit their bare hands to punch some relative in his face" "hehe" "what a fight..."
Colmarr rubs his shoulder as they stop in the alley, moving over to Naomi as the others look out for their companions. “Are you alright Lissa?” he asks quietly.
Near the Sleeping Sailor, Troth leads the way into the quieter alley off the street. With a tall warehouse on the left and the tavern on the right, the alley is narrow and dark. There are strange smells, and the muddy ground underfoot is wet. This may very well be the tavern's "public outhouse." Troth sets Naomi down in the alley then heads back to the mouth where Magyar waits keeping an eye out for their two companions. Braer moves further into the alley next to Colmarr and Naomi, watching for predators, while Colmarr checks on the little girl's health.
"I...I think so. Why are they so angry, oni?"
Denther extracts himself from the melee in the tavern without further incident and joins Grondar outside the door. They see Magyar waving at them from the alley and Troth calls to them,
They quickly move into the alley as Troth begins to brag about past brawls. The alley dead ends into another narrow back alley that heads east-west along the back of the tavern and warehouse. To the west (right) the alley runs past the back of the tavern. There is a half-empty rain barrel set under the gutter. To the east (left), the alley jukes into the muddy darkness, broken by odd, indistinct shapes and curving to the south. From somewhere in that direction, Denther and Troth can hear the sound of footfalls squelching through the mud, retreating into the distance. Behind them, the noise of the crowd is a dull roar in everyone's ears.
The docks--and the ship--lie somewhere to the southeast.
“Well onia, it seems there is some bad blood between the sailors and the dockworkers, and the fight and slurs have roused everyone to take sides in redressing past hatreds. The fact that one of them drew blood, has probably only spurred them on,” Colmarr explains, while they wait for Denther and Grondar.
“Well I think we’d better go that way...seeing as it’s our only viable path, not leading away from the ship,” Colmarr says, pointing down the west branch of the alley. “Hmm, I guess the bard who helped incite the conflict out there ran down this alley somewhere, seeing as he didn’t come past us...”
Hmmm ... never walked from these alleys before but … we'll manage say Grondar, sap still in hand, he leads the way and navigate through the alleys Now that was a brawl he laugh loudly and raise his sap.
"Any direction that takes us away from that craziness, I'm all for," Mag says. He switches out his dagger for his sling, readying a bullet as he falls to the rear of the group, keeping an eye and an ear out for anyone trying to run up behind them.
As Grondar leads the way, Troth again picks up Naomi from the ground and carries her under his left arm. "take us there Grondar" "as silent as you can" he looks down at Naomi "be quiet Lissa and we soon will be in the safety of the boat" "and there. I want to ask you something, but right now lets hurry" Troth walks as fast he can following Grondar's back.
"Yes let's go I have seen enough of this town for one night."
Braer follows Grondar through the alley, when the others come he will slowly fall behind them if there is room in the alley.
Grondar leads the way down through the dark back alleys. Naomi struggles in Troth's arms.
"I can walk on my own, you know." If Troth refuses to put her down, she pouts, but she does it quietly.
Strange, unwholesome smells thicken the air, and Grondar prays to any deity he can think of that it is mud squishing under his boots.
A dark shape glides overhead, and Magyar jumps, but it is beyond the next rooftop before he can even get his sling up. It was probably just a bird. Or a bat. Or a...Perhaps it's best if he doesn't think about it too carefully.
It has grown strangely quiet. The sound of the riot is a dull roar fading to the left. Up ahead, the back of a wharehouse looms out of the night and the alley takes a sharp turn to the right then almost immediately splits again. One branch heads off to the left (east) where it goes for about a hundred feet before making another left. A faint reddish glow can be seen from that direction. The alley also continues straight ahead (south). Denther can hear the sound of running feet from that direction, the same that he heard earlier. Colmarr also hears the running feet for the first time. Behind the party, there is a clatter in the night, and a cat yowls its displeasure.
Grondar stops for a moment, taking a look at both ways and decides to take the branch to the left (east). (where it goes for about a hundred feet before making another left.) sap in hand he readies himself for attack against anything that might pop out … even a cat. He knows that walking in alleys at night is very dangerous
Mag wills his heart to slow, or at least give up pounding in his eardrums. Whatever was flying overhead--if it was there at all--is gone now.
Behind them, however, might not be so true. Mag, loaded sling ready, doing his best to steady the shaking in his knees, peers back into the gloom. Over his shoulder, toward the other crewmen, he projects a stage whisper:
"Colmarr, your gnome eyes do better in this lighting than mine, don't they? You see anything behind us that might have set off the cat?"
Using his trained voice, Colmarr replies in kind to Magyar, “Yes, I suppose they do. You know, it’s probably just an animal knocking something over, trying to get food...”
Colmarr moves far enough out of line to give himself an unobstructed view behind the group, trying to see if there is anyone or anything creeping up behind them, as Grondar stops to decide their path.
OOC: Listen +6, Spot +1
A fat rat runs along the ground hugging the west wall before disappearing into a pile of refuse.
Magyar lets his breath out at the sight, then whispers ahead. "All right. I've definitely had my fill of suspense and action tonight. Let's beat feet to the ship already." With that, he points in the direction that should take them to the docks and urgest the party to go that way.
Braer tries to maintain constant vigilance while staying with the party
"Keep moving" Troth says seeing that some of the group slows down. He tries to listen if any anyone are persing them in the alley or at the roofs.
Grondar leads the group down the east alley and around the corner to the left. The alley runs directly into a two story building, but there is just enough room on the building's south side for a person to slip through heading east, and room on the west side for a person to slip through heading north.
In the side of the building facing the heroes there is a door. The door appears to be a side door into a tavern; it is open, and it reveals a long bar. A reddish glow spills into the alley.
"Look!" cries Naomi from where she is held in Troth's arms. She has one arm wrapped around his neck and with the other she points to the doorway where all can clearly see a wisp of smoke curling around the upper edge of the doorframe, disappearing into the night.
Over here Grondar signals the others to follow He goes to the door and peeks inside to the tavern, if it's quite he will enter from the backdoor and exit from the main door to the main street, from there, the route to the ship will be more easier. If he sees any trouble inside the bar, Grondar will take passage through the west side of the building where a person can slip through and head north.
As Grondar leads them down the alley and around the corner, away from the ship, Colmarr says, “Where are you taking us Grondar? Wouldn't straight ahead at the last intersection have been more direct, as I think we’re heading away from the ship right at the moment?”
Troth carefully puts a big and weatherbitten hand over Naomis mouth nodding at Grondar as the man peeks inside the room "lets move trough here to the main street Colmarr" "the alleys are never to safe in a port and this port seems more unsafe then other I've been at" "Lissa im going to let you down for now I wont any attention on me carrying you like this trough this place" "someone may miss interpret my actions" for split second Troth seems absent thinking... as fast it came it was gone "Colmarr please watch the girl" he peeks inside the room besides Grondar.
Braer turns back to watch the alley, but stays ready to follow his friends inside.
As Grondar and Troth look to go through the building instead of around it, Colmarr glances down the two alleys leading around the building. “Apparently the main streets in front of tavern’s aren’t too safe either Troth, otherwise we wouldn’t be in an alley in the first place. So why don’t we just slip past the building instead of going inside...wouldn’t one of these alleys lead to the street just as surely, seeing as people must use the door you two are looking through?” he asks, taking Naomi’s hand again now she’s back on the ground.
OOC: Just to note, my previous post has been edited due to Mallak changing where the ship is located (the edit being made at Mallak’s suggestion).
Mag's mouth quirks up as he whispers wryly, "Given what happened the last time we passed through a tavern, we might do best to take our chances single file around the outside." Here he winks to Lissa to let the girl know he's (mostly) joking about the group's ability to find trouble. "Well, Lissa, we did say we'd find you adventure, didn't we?"
He keeps his sling ready for now, though if the group decides to enter the tavern, he'll stow the sling so as not to draw attention.
Troth scratches his head and looks at Grondar back giving him a friendly slap over the back "you hear Grondar? Comarr is quite smart, lets do what he says..." "but i must be honest in say that the alley is giving me the chills" he takes some steps back noding at Colmarr to lead the way taking Naomi under his arm again.
Grondar glances inside the tavern and realizes what the others have not yet seen. It is empty. Troth joins him in looking inside. It appears there were many people in this tavern not too long ago, but they left in quite a hurry. Tables are overturned, dishes are broken, and beer is scattered everywhere. The main entrance door, on the eastern side of the tavern, is closed. Along the opposite wall are stairs leading to a second story. Beneath the stairs, directly across the room from where Grondar and Troth are, is an open door leading to what appears to be a back room. The door is open, and the room glows with a flickering orange light. Smoke pours from the open doorway, curling along the ceiling of the tavern.
Grondar glance back to the other Hey, it's safe and empty, we can pass through here He says in a low tone. Just don't make too much noise while I check what's going on, wait here I'll be right back He enters quietly to the Tavern and goes to see if the closed door is locked
Looking in after Grondar as he enters the tavern, since he has to wait anyway, Colmarr remarks, “I don’t know where all the people went...hopefully they’re not fighting out in the street, but it looks like there’s a fire in that room under the stairs, and that can’t be good.”
Troth moves into the room looking what is set on fire, letting Naomi stay with Colmarr.
Mag shakes his head, all the while looking around for anyone else.
"As close as these buildings are together, if a fire got out of control it could take out a block or more before anyone could stop it," he says, his brow furrowing. "I think we need to put it out if we can, or--" here he grasps the signal whistle hanging from his neck-- "much as we don't want any more attention, I think it best we call for help if we can't stop this thing ourselves."
Turning to look at Maygar as he speaks, Colmarr keeps casting quick glances over his shoulder into the room throughout. “Well I think yelling fire might draw the right kind of attention and help, probably faster than your whistle too...though people might come to see what the racket was if you blew it, I don’t think they’d bring buckets, water, or anything else helpful. It's a good idea though, if we can't get anyone's attention by more conventional means,” Colmarr responds, before returning is gaze to the tavern, looking for anything to put out a fire with.
Braer turns back around and says, "We should see how bad it is first, some fires have more smoke than others."
Grondar will peek into the room with the smoke while he goes to check if the front door of the tavern is locked
Even if he sees fire or anyone hurt, he will not stop. "It's not my buisness" moto guides him.
“Yes, that’s what’s Troth is doing, I hope...we won’t make a racket unless we need to,” Colmarr says, his gaze not leaving the interior of the tavern as he speaks.
Mag lets his whistle drop back into place, nodding. He waits quietly, though his face portrays the worry he's feeling, not only about the alley and the night, but now about the fire, as well.
Grondar steps carefully through the wreckage of the tavern, around overturned chairs and tables and across rivulets of wetness.
Troth moves into the tavern, past the long bar, toward the room under the stairs from which smoke pours steadily. There is a large mirror behind the bar which has been broken. Large spiderweb cracks radiate out from the left side. As Troth approaches the burning room, heat washes over him in waves. He pokes his head in under the smoke to take a look around. This seems to have been a storage room and also a meeting room. Large oak casks, no doubt full of local grog, line the wall on the left, and a wine rack once stood on the right. The rack is now toppled, the bottles shattered all over the floor. Flames dance on the wine soaked floorboards. A shattered lamp lies nearby, the apparent cause of the fire. In the middle of the room is a square wooden table with chairs on four sides. One chair is lying on its side, broken. Silver and gold coins are scattered across the table, sparkling in the firelight. Near the broken chair, as if he fell there, a large man lies face down.
Colmarr holds Naomi's hand, peering into the tavern, while Magyar watches the alleys to both sides. Braer and Denther cover the rear.
Grondar reaches the front door of the tavern after a quick glance into the burning room. As he reaches it, the door seems to open of its own accord. A strange sight greets his eyes, and it takes a moment for the scene to process. In the light of the streetlamps, a long line of people stretches away from the door, down the street toward the docks, and around a corner. At the same moment he is realizing that this must be a bucket brigade, the man at the front of the line is throwing his arms forward with a startled look on his face. Too late, Grondar realizes the man is holding a bucket, and the bucket is holding water. A cascade of cold, salty sea water hits Grondar square in the chest. The man gapes at the drenched thug for a moment then yells, "Hey, get out of there, the building's on fire!"
Troth comes quite fast back to the alley "To hot inside" he says gasping for some air "this thing is gonna go down to the ground" "i dont think anyone can save the building" he looks around and inside the tavern for Grondar when he hears a splash from where Grondar whent "Hey Grondar!" "come here!"
Grondar almost punched the guy … almost The fire is in the back room you moron, not on me. I'm just helping innocent travelers to get out from this burning hell. The drenched thug shouts to Troth Save them … get'em over here, we must exit from here, run !!
Noticing the sputtering thug has crossed unharmed, Mag looks to his companions and enters.
"Grondor seems none the worse for wear. Let's get through this thing and back to the ship before something worse happens, yeah?" With that, he moves across the room following Grondor's path, stowing his weapon as he goes.
"Agreed."Braer takes one last look over his shoulder and walks across the tavern. When he gets to the other side he remarks to the Bucketeer, "You will put the fire out much faster if you aim for it instead of just heaving water into the building.
“Come on Lissa, let’s follow the others.” Making word into deed, Colmarr leads Naomi through the tavern, keeping as far from the fire as possible.
Denther moves quickly through the burning building.
Troth follows the others trough the building.
The man at the head of the bucket brigade gapes at the people still in the tavern. "Sorry about the soaking, mate. Well, are you going to help or not?" The man passes his empty bucket back and takes another full one. Turning to look over his shoulder, he says to the people behind him, "Move the line forward! We need to get inside!" The entire line creeps forward, snaking through the wreckage inside the tavern, and soon the man is tossing water in the general vicinity of the back room. Large clouds of steam billow up, and the smoke is growing thicker. "Split the line up the stairs, or the second floor is gonna collapse in on us, and they'll be no saving her then!"
Meanwhile, our heroes have slipped out of the building and followed the line back to the docks. The western section of the docks is full of commotion as folks are participating in the bucket brigade, scooping water from the bay. Torches are lit everywhere; the area is ablaze with light. A city guard is shouting and attempting to organize a second bucket brigade. Somewhere in the city, a bell begins to ring. Several of the city guards are on the bucket line, sweating and participating with the civilians, and Colmarr recognizes the guards previously assigned to watch the Pander Ban. The ship is berthed on the eastern side of the harbor, deep in shadows.
Damn with that fire, it seems all Tortila is passing buckets, I must find some peace, some rest, some good old ale in my left hand while my good right is holding a wench. but … he looks at his friends, Oh .. .darn, I'll stay (Grondar)
Looking at the bucket line, Colmarr says, “Well if we’re going to continue on to the ship I’d advise vigilance, as it appears the guards that were assigned to protect the Pander Ban are busy on the bucket line. I hope the Merchant Bledsum hasn’t chosen this time to wreak his revenge on the captain...”
Mag frowns. "Best way to pull off a trick is to get your audience to pay attention to something else." He glances back at the burning building. "And if that isn't a bright, shiny, perfect distraction ... whether Bledsum did it on purpose or not, I think we need to pick up the pace."
The young man pulls his sling out again, loading it, and urges the group to move as quickly as they can while keeping an eye out for their own safety.
Troth nods at the Gnome when se realizes de danger they may be in. As Mag take up his sling himself unsheets his Rapier. "only one way to know my friend" he says to Colmarr "and thats on the ship" "even if there is a ambush there we need to secure the ship" "wich way Colmarr?" "Grondar you follow me and attack whatever im attacking"
I'll punch any Bledsum scum I'll see, and if things will turn ugly, we can always set ablaze the ship next to the Pander Ban, and bring the bucket line and the guards to us again
“Let’s go then...it’s that way,” Colmarr says, pointing towards the eastern side of the port and placing his free hand on his dagger.
Passing the end of the bucket brigade, Denther is sorely tempted to join in but, realizing that he is needed elsewhere, passes by, heading towards the ship.
On the docks of Tortilla, Troth leads the party carefully across the darkened quay, by empty barrells and crates, and down to where their ship is berthed. The main deck is dark and seemingly deserted when they climb aboard.
Taking a silver coin from his pouch, Colmarr sings quietly over it for several seconds before it glows with light.
OOC: Colmarr casts light on the silver coin.
Troth take a fast glance over the deck as the coin lightens up.
Mag moves to be shoulder-to-shoulder (height notwithstanding) to Colmarr, casting his gaze around the deck as he whispers, "I'm thinking we should get Lissa someplace secure below, then try to find the captain. I'd just call out to him, but, well, I'm not so sure he'd be the only one to hear it, you know?"
“Well if there are invaders aboard and they’re not on the deck, they must be below...so I don’t know if there’ll be a secure place for Lissa. You’re right about calling out though, if we’re not alone, so we should get to the captain as quickly as possible,” Colmarr concurs quietly, as he looks around the deck himself.
My spear is in your room and I have a feeling that I'm going to need it He says to Colmarr We can check for the captain on our way … Sap in hand Grondar goes and stands near the door that leads to the captain's, Braer's and colmarr's quarters.
“My crossbow is there too, so I’m all for heading back to my cabin first...come on Lissa,” Colmarr replies quietly, moving to follow Grondar with Naomi in tow.
"Im staying here guarding the deck" he walks to the main mast and tries to hide.
"I'll stay with you"
Wait! Grondar signal everyone to stop I have an idea to check if the Pander Ban is empty. I suggest you all find a barrel or a crate to hide behind and prepare yourself to any Bledsum that might appear. he turns to Colmarr If you got any tricky spells that can help Colmarr use them, as for her he nods towerds Lisa just put the little girl somewhere safe, maybe in the empty water barrel over there He points to the barrel that lies near the anchor Now, take cover and ready your weapons Grondar ready his sap, and stands behind the door to the cabins, one more look at his friends and he kicks the door open and shouts FIRE!!! FIRE ON THE PANDER BAN ANYONE IN THERE? GET OUT NOW !!!! PEDRO, GOMEZ, PASS ME THE F**CKING BUCKET
Magyar's eyes go wide as the thug bellows into the night.
"So much for my suggesting I scout ahead quietly," he mutters. Then, loaded sling in-hand, he hustles to the best place of concealment he can find that still gives him a decent line of fire.
Troth fades into the shadows near the main mast while Denther takes up a place next to some nearby crates that have yet to be offloaded. Braer hunkers down next to the gang plank watching for movement on the dock. The night is dark and quiet over here on the Pander Ban, away from the bustle and noise of the bucket brigade. The night air smells of salt and ash, and gray clouds obscure the sky. The water below is like ink lapping softly at the wooden hull of the ship.
Magyar slips silently up the ladder to the poop deck where he has a good view of the deck, the docks, and the harbor. Colmar retreats to the side with Naomi.
Grondar's bellow splits the night air and echoes across the bay. He kicks open the door reveling an empty, black passage. The galley hatch gapes open on the right, and Colmarr's berth is further down on the left. The dim light available does not reach to the end of the hall, where the Captain's cabin is.
CRASH!
Beyond the Captain's door there is a sound of breaking wood and glass. Up on the poop deck, Magyar can pinpoint the sound as coming from the stern of the ship. It is followed quickly by a splash. He rushes to the aft rail and stares hard into the night. The water below ripples, and there is the dark shape of a rowboat pulled up to the stern of the ship. Magyar hears swearing from below him on the water, and the boat pushes away from the Pander Ban, the oarsman pulling hard.
Magyar lifts his sling, but realizes it's too dark to have any kind of accuracy. Cursing himself for not thinking to ask Colmarr to ready one of his handy whisper-carrying spells, Mag calls out loudly, instead.
"They're trying to get away over here! We need light!"
"Where Mag where" Troth comes out of his concealment and runs to Magyar standing at the stern of the Pander Ban. Magyar hear the barbarian runing towards him, sound of knirking wood under his weight. Troth jumps over the ledge diving into the water where magyar was seeing.
Grondar you damned fool, I tell you I’m not adequately armed and you go scream out trying to attract attention, Colmarr thinks while shaking his head, as he heads across the deck to the stair, heading for the captain’s cabin. As he makes his way to the stair, Colmarr evokes four glowing spheres of light which resemble will-o’-wisps into being, centred 40 feet past the stern and about 20 feet above the water...hoping that gives enough light for Magyar’s needs he calls, “Call out if you need the lights moved,” before he makes his way below.
OOC: Colmarr uses his spell-like ability of dancing lights, which he locates as above.
Grondar runs to the captain's cabin, passing on the way via Colmarr's cabin to grab his spear.
Troth's soaring dive into the water from the Pander Ban would have been magnificent, had there been light to see it. As it is, the compact barbarian hits the water with a muffled splash which takes his breath away. When he surfaces, his ears are ringing and he can see very little. In moments, though, he has pinpointed the sounds of the rowboat and of a swimmer splashing through the water. They're headed northeast toward the bank, beyond the docks. Troth puts his head down and strokes through the water after them.
Four globes of colored light zip past Magyar where he stands peering into the gloom and begin circling over the water. The cast an eerie glow that allows him to see the two people fleeing as well as Troth swimming after them. The man rowing the boat cries out loudly in fear as the glowing orbs appear and redoubles his efforts at rowing away. He doesn't bother to stop as he shoots past his friend in the water.
"Wow, oni, how did you do that?" Naomi asks with a look of awe. "Can you teach me?"
Below decks, Grondar ducks into Colmarr's cabin for his spear. The room is empty, and he snatches up the long weapon before rushing to the captain's cabin. The door is locked.
“Sadly no onia, it is something unique to my people which cannot be taught,” Colmarr replies quietly, as they head down the stairs after Grondar. Rushing to his cabin, once they traverse the stairs, Colmarr grabs his crossbow and bolt case with one hand, while handing his dagger to Naomi with the other, saying, “Just in case you need to defend yourself...” before they head out into the corridor, and towards the captain’s cabin.
Looking back to Colmarr and the girl Grondar shouts Stay behind me. He leans the spear on the wall and tries to bash the captain's door with a kick. If he managed to open it, he'll grab the spear and charge in.
The doorjam splinters and the door flies open when Grondar kicks it. Inside, it looks as though a hurricane has hit. All of the drawers on the desk are out, their contents scattered across the floor. The Captain's trunk is open, and there are clothes hanging out. The window in the back of the cabin is shattered, presumably where the villian dove through as he made his escape.
Moving up behind Grondar, Colmarr loads his crossbow and whispers urgently to Naomi, “Stay close!” more than happy to let the big man take the lead.
Grondar glance quickly at the mess and tries to spot the captain. He then moves to the broken window and look outside.
Magyar whips the stone into the night. He quickly loses sight of it in the dark, and, as it has no visible effect on the rower, it was probably a clean miss. On the main deck, Braer methodically searches through the stacked crates and spare rigging, ensuring that no one is waiting in ambush.
Below, Naomi scootches up behind Colmarr, holding onto his cloak with her left hand and holding the dagger close. The glow of the magicked coin casts the cabin in a strange, stark white light, with sharp edged shadows cutting across the room. Grondar can see no other occupants, so he heads to the window to look out into the night. In the light of the dancing globes, he can see the man rowing away from the ship. He can also make out the splashing of Troth and the other man in the water. They are about thirty feet apart, and both appear to be strong swimmers.
“Guess we’d better go look for the captain elsewhere, hey Grondar,” Colmarr says, walking into the room and glancing around, ready to follow Grondar out of the room when he leaves if he doesn’t find anything.
OOC: Listen +6, Spot +1. Colmarr also moves the globes 10 feet further away from the ship, assuming the rower has made some distance since he came below deck (free action).
Idiot, Mag chastizes himself. You're not a warrior, you're a performer. Work your strengths!
Mag raises one arm above him and points to the rower with the other, putting his best frightful glare in place. "You've seen me conjure light from darkness, fool. Do you think it any more difficult for me to birth fire from water? Stop rowing and return to the ship now, or the bay itself will consume the tinder you sit in!"
Let us check Braer's cabin for the captain and then we'll go down, hopefully they didn't kill the old grumpy and threw him in the storage under the deck. With that Grondar moves to Braer cabins's to see if it's empty.
Hearing Magyar yell out to the man in the rowboat through the broken stern window, Colmarr grins and thinks, well he certainly has a flair for the dramatic.
Returning his focus to the gravity of what Grondar just said as he follows the big man from the room, Colmarr remarks, “Yes, hopefully the captain went ashore or something, as with Malachi gone I can do little for him right now if he is in dire need of healing...”
Denther moves to help Braer search the dark main deck. Shadows loom large, and there are many places a person might hide. Soon enough, though, they are confident that the deck is clear, and they turn toward the cabins.
Grondar leads the way out of the Captain's cabin. Braer's cabin is empty, so Grondar, Colmarr, and Naomi head back out on deck. There they meet Braer's group finishing up their search.
Down on the water, the man in the boat sits up when Magyar yells at him. In the light of the dancing globes his hands are quite visible, as is the loaded heavy crossbow he takes aim with. Unfortunately for Magyar, the dancing lights make the performer an easy target as well. Mag dives for cover as the heavy quarrel splinters the railing where he was standing. With a string of frightened curses, the crossbowman drops his weapon into the bottom of the boat and takes up the oars again.
Troth's gear weighs him down in the water as he attempts to keep swimming, and he is unable to capitalize on the oarsman's momentary lapse in rowing. The rowboat is still a good fifteen feet away from him. He's lost sight of the swimmer he was pursuing. No doubt fear fueled the culprit's veins, lending him greater speed.
The crew on deck heads below to search the hold. Most of the cargo has been brought up, so it doesn't take long to declare the ship vacant from stem to stern.
"Colmarr, can you move those lights closer to the man's face?"Braer says quietly and moves toward the docks to try and get a better view of (and possibly a clear path to) the boat
Mag swears under his breath as he picks himself back up from his dive for cover. He stops himself before launching another sling bullet, realizing the time it took to regain his footing has moved the man too far. He looks down to see Troth splashing forward still as the others gather.
"Troth, let the sons of sharks go" he calls out. "We'll face 'em down another time, on our terms. We need help to track down the captain."
Troth, swimming through the water intent on catching his quarry, cannot hear Magyar call out to him. He is once again swimming well, and he is slowly gaining on the rowboat. It is only about two body lengths away, now. Perhaps Troth will be able to catch the man when he lands.
After hollering at Troth, Magyar notices a matte black grappling hook he had failed to see before. It is attached to the aft railing on the port side, and a black rope dangles down to the water.
Tossing the coin to Braer, Colmarr moves up beside Magyar and pushes the lights further from the ship, trying to fulfill Braer’s request, tracking the men in the water. “If you boys want to chase them down, I’ll stay with the ship as I’ll only slow your progress.”
OOC: The dancing lights will last 1 minute and can reach 110 feet from the ship (Caster Level 1, as it’s a racial ability), the light spell on the coin will last for 20 minutes.
Mag tests the rope lightly. If it doesn't feel like anything is attached to the other end in the water, he starts pulling it up, telling the approaching Colmarr "Looks like I found how they got on."
“Hmm, from there they could have crept aboard, even with guards on the pier...I wonder how long they were on the ship before Grondar’s yell scared them off,” Colmarr muses, as he watches Magyar pull up the rope.
Looks like Troth will need our help when he'll get to shore, Denther come with me. With that Grondar, spear in hand, begin to run from the ship to the pier and to where Troth is going to "land"
Braer stops and thinks for a second and realizes that he's going the wrong way, he heads back to the other side and tries to get a better look at the man in the boat.
Colmarr moves up beside Magyar to examine the rope. Naomi stands at the railing, staring after the fleeing men with a look of intense concentration on her face. Braer peers through the night at the man in the rowboat, but even aided by the light of the five dancing globes, he can't clearly make out the man's face.
The first swimmer makes it to the rocky shore and, clamoring over the boulders, disappears beneath the trees. Shortly after, the rowboat runs up on the rocks as well. The man in the boat looks up fearfully as one of the globes of light swoops around his head, and in that moment Braer gets a good look at the man's features. The man sees Troth stroking hard, and he turns and flees up the slippery rocks. Troth reaches the rowboat and sees the man fleeing up the rocky slope slip sideways and whack his head on a sharp rock. The man plunges into the bay, slipping beneath the waves.
Grondar and Denther race back up the pier to the docks, cutting around the north side of the bay. There they find the Seaman's Rest Inn which appears to be locked up tight for the evening. Perhaps the owners are off fighting the fire. On the harbor side of the inn is a tall fence, beyond which can be seen trees. On the other side of the inn is a small alley which runs back to the city wall.
OOC: Grondar and Denther will take three rounds to get to the Seaman's Rest Inn. Troth took one round to get to the rowboat, and he must decide what to do at the beginning of his second round. Braer spent two rounds trying to spot. Colmarr and Magyar aren't really in round time right now.
“I see you’ve worked it out on your own, Lissa,” Colmarr remarks approvingly, grinning at the girl as he notices an extra globe among his lights.
Mag looks down at the gnome quizzically, then stares a moment at the young girl. Eyes falling back on Colmarr, Mag whispers, "Wait, you mean Lissa just did magic? Real magic?"
Troth listens to the night and hears only the wind. He takes a few steps into the trees and listens again, but can hear only the sound of his own heart beating. Was that the sound of running footsteps? It's difficult to tell, and he cannot place their precise direction.
Grondar peers into the depths of the trees...A shadowy figure lurks beneath the pines. Braer comes running up behind Grondar and Denther.
Back on the ship, Colmarr's gnomish eyes pick out the slight pinkening of Naomi's cheeks as she flushes, and the extra globe winks out. Magyar whispers to Colmarr as Naomi turns. She has an unreadable look on her face. "I...I don't know what you're talking about. I didn't do anything."
“I guess I was mistaken then,” Colmarr declares, winking at Naomi.
Mag looks back and forth between Colmarr and Lissa again, brows furrowed.
"I ... guess so," he says with something less than full conviction. Then he shakes his head.
"We have to figure out what happened to the captain, anyway," Mag says. "Did you find anything down below that might tell us? I don't remember him saying he was going into town, but gods know it's been an eventful enough night that it could have slipped my mind."
“Yes we do. I think we should go see if he’s in the bucket line somewhere, and if he’s not we can ask one of the men who were guarding the ship if he left before the fire alarm was raised,” Colmarr says, as he takes another silver coin from his pouch, and sings over it until it glows with light. “Shall we go,” he says, turning and walking towards the pier. Once off the ship they’ll make their way back to the bucket line where they saw the guards.
OOC: Colmarr will cast light on another silver coin, which he’ll keep this time (his last spell for the day).
Mag nods at Colmarr's suggestion, then his brow furrows as the gnome is creating light again.
"Just so we don't wind up creating a cycle of searching for each other, maybe we should leave a note for the others--or the captain if he returns--telling them where we went?"
As quickly as he can, Mag runs below for his pack, snatching a piece of chalk and writing the following on the deck
Looking for captain. Back soon.
-Mag the Magni, Colmarr, & Lissa
Pocketing the piece of chalk, Mag says with a smile "Sorry about the signature. Force of habit. Now, surely they can't miss that, can they?"
“Sure, though I don’t...” Colmarr manages, before Magyar runs below.
While they wait for Magyar’s return, Colmarr flips the glowing coin back and forth across the back of his fingers, as much to amuse himself as Naomi.
Once Maygar has scrawled his note on the deck, Colmarr says with a grin, “No, I don’t think they’ll miss that, though I was wondering where we were going to put the note when you suggested it...problem solved I’d say, so let’s go.”
While Magyar is below, Naomi watches Colmarr roll the glowing coin back and forth with a wondering look in her eye.
"How do you do that, oni?"
Later, after Magyar has scrawled his note across the deck, Naomi looks at it and asks, "What's that say?"
“Do what!” Colmarr remarks, grinning as he rolls the coin across again, “Lots of practice and a little natural talent onia, I’ll show you how when we have a little more time, as I expect Magyar will be back shortly.”
A little later...
“Oh, you can’t read onia, well I suppose that’s to be expected, considering. It says ‘Looking for captain. Back soon’,” Colmarr says, pointing out the words as he says them, “And the second line is our names ‘Mag, Colmarr, & Lissa’. Magyar started adding a title to his name there, but he crossed it out.”
"Ooohh...But how do you make the coin light up? You sang a song over it, and you did that before, too. I liked that song. Can you teach me that, too? I...I really do like to sing, sometimes."
A little later...
"Ohh..." Naomi says, looking at the words closely. She bends over to trace them with her finger. "Do you think I could learn to read, oni?" Turning to Magyar, she asks, "Magyar, why did you cross out your title? Are you a lord in disguise?" The fact that the ex-performer may or may not be nobility doesn't appear to excite her all that much.
“Well that’s magic! Hmm, I can certainly try to teach you the song, I know Magyar wants to learn too, but as I told Magyar it depends whether you have the gift required to make the magic and music meld together as one. We can always sing though onia, whether it’s magical or not,” Colmarr says, smiling at the girl.
A little later...
“Certainly onia, nearly anyone can learn to read if they want to put in the effort,” Colmarr replies, as he watches Naomi trace the letters.
Mag shakes his head with a gentle smile. "Some of my relatives might like to thinks so, but the Rhineholdts were merely performers. I was writing my stage name, which no longer really applies since I've no stage to work from."
"Did you have to learn magic, or did it just sort of...happen?"
Later...
"Will you teach me to read, then, oni?"
“It suppose it just sort of happened. You see, I was down in the cellar one day, looking for something for my mother when my lamp went out, so I started singing what I thought was a little nonsense tune and the lamp started to glow...like the coin. Of course I’ve learned a few things since then, but sometimes things just happen on their own, like when I healed you...”
Later...
“Of course I’ll teach you to read, and write too, onia. I guess I’d better pick up some chalk and a slate if I can find them tomorrow, as that’s a lot easier than trying to work with an ink pen...plus it’ll save us writing on the deck,” Colmarr chuckles.
As they leave the ship and move down the docks, Naomi peppers Magyar with questions. "What happened to your stage? Do you miss it? What was it's name?"
Shortly, Colmarr, Magyar, and Naomi leave the deck of the Pander Ban in search of the lost captain. They head back down the docks to where the bucket line is working smoothly. Colmarr's glowing coin draws a few odd, startled looks from the people on the line, but a soldier that is pacing up and down the line is quick to call tose folks to task. Magyar recognizes him as the leader of the guard contingent placed on the Pander Ban.
"Captain Turion?" the man asks, scratching his head when Colmarr asks him about the captain. "Yeah, he went into town right around sunset. He didn't say where he was headed, but I believe he usually finds his way to the Three-Penny Inn up on Rose. What, you don't know where that is? Take this street here up past the bucket brigade until you get to the Civil Wall. Head past that and there'll be a butcher shop on your right. That's Rose. Turn there, and head down until you see the Three-Penny. Now, if you'll excuse me, we've got a fire to fight." He turns and strides down the line. "That's it, folks, keep it up! Everyone move forward two steps! We're pushing in, keep the water flowing!"
“Certainly, thank you for the help, it’s most appreciated,” Colmarr calls after the guard, as he strides down the line.
“Well Magyar, now we know the captain left of his own accord. I suppose we should hunt him down though and make a report...just in case they absconded with something from his cabin,” Colmarr says, a peculiar look on his face. “Though I’d feel a lot better if we had a few more crewmates along, in a town like this.”
Mag scrunches up his face a moment, looking around the dark streets, then says, "If we're reasonably certain those intruders did nothing to the captain, I wonder if it might not be better to return to the ship? It's once again unguarded, and--as you say--we're not really the best crewmen for taking on dark, rough streets. Especially with Lissa in tow. So long as we make sure nothing else leaves the ship, the captain can search his effects as well when he returns as if we grab him now."
"And who knows," the young man adds with a shrug. "Maybe our tougher companions will manage to snag one or more of those men for questioning by the time the captain returns on his own."
“You’re probably right Magyar, let’s go back to the ship,” Colmarr remarks, pretty certain the captain took whatever he had with him or hid it so no one could find it.
Within short order, Grondar, Troth, Braer, and Denther make is back to the ship. Shortly after, Colmarr, Magyar, and Naomi arrive back, and the two groups share the information they learned: that one man escaped and the captain went into town earlier.
No women tonight Grondar thinks sadly. I suggest we stay here, guard the ship and wait for the captain, Noochuck, Malachi and Wakil
“Well I doubt they’ll be back, whoever they were, but if you insist on staying Grondar I won’t gainsay your choice,” Colmarr declares, before heading towards his cabin with Naomi.
'Lets see what morning bring' 'I take the first watch' he lights a torch and starts to make his round on deck.
Once he's arrived back, Mag cleans up his scrawled note while he lets Colmarr relay the news. When Grondor suggests guarding the place, Mag finds himself relieved, but also exhausted.
"You're probably a better choice of guard than I," Mag says to the thug. "But if you need someone to relieve you for a shift, feel free to wake me. I suppose I need to get better at this sort of thing if this is the way life on this crew goes."
"But for now," he says, with a weak bow of his head, "I think I'm going to collapse in sleep belowdecks."
Naomi lets out an ostentatious yawn as she follows Colmarr below.
The evening passes without further incident.
Once they reach his cabin, Colmarr retrieves his dagger from Naomi, setting both weapons near at hand should the need arise. Putting Naomi in his bed, Colmarr prepares to sleep on his bedroll near the door, setting his still glowing coin near the bed and letting the magic run out by itself unless asked to extinguish it by Naomi.
---
While most of the crew is enjoying their night on the town, Wakil, Malachi, and N'un T'Chauck follow Mery home. In the woods, she is jumped by several bandits, and the boys rush in to help. In the ensuing fight, people are wounded and two of the bad guys end up dead. The third escapes. Malachi reveals more of his healing talent, and the men escort Mery the rest of the way home (carrying the dead bodies with them). At Mery's home they meet her father, an old wounded soldier, and they learn more of the troubles in the land, the rumblings from the south, and they learn of a mysterious new group of slavers that came from the far west and allied with the Bledsum family. They have a compound north of Tortila. The following morning, Mery, her father, and smitten N'un T'Chauck pack up and head west with many other people steadily leaving Tortila for the safer kingdoms of the midwest. Wakil and Malachi return to the Pander Ban.
[/sblock]
While putting the following together, I read over what unleashed has recorded and I was reminded of several things that had slipped my mind. It was an interesting read, and a good refresher for what's going on in the world.[/sblock]
[sblock=The Story Since Then and Before Now]Up the street from the docks, there is a swirling in the crowd and a voice can be heard distantly calling, "Way! Make way for the Tortila Guard! Way! Give way!" The guards that emerge from the crowds onto the docks are dressed in hauberks and carrying halberds. They are led by a middle aged man with a genial face, though at the moment he looks rather grim. He carries no polearm but has a long, straight sword at his side. Out in front and leading the way is the man who was previously at the tiller of the merchant's longboat. He is a short, snippish looking man.
The guards make their way out onto Pier 3, which has quickly become devoid of civilians, and the leader walks up the gangplank to speak with the captain. The merchant stands to one side, looking smug.
"Good afternoon, Captain Turion. What seems to be the trouble here?" the guardsman asks.
"Good afternoon to you, too, Guardsman Lieutenant Craeterre. As you can see, we have only just arrived in Tortila. I believe this merchant here is trying to get a jump on his competition. However, the Pander Ban is not yet ready to receive guests. Perhaps if you would escort him to a nearby tavern, he can return in a few hours? Also, if I might request the favor of a furlough guard for the afternoon? The Pander Ban would be very appreciative."
Throughout all this, the merchant's face has been growing a darker and darker shade of red. Finally, he bursts out, "Guardsman, this man, this Captain Turion, has kidnapped my niece! In complete disregard for the laws of the harbor and this fine city, he and his crew cut me off out on the water and stole certain personal effects of the Bledsum family. I demand that my men and I be allowed to make a thorough search of this vessel!"
The guard looks at the merchant. "These are some serious accusations, Merchant Bledsum. What proof have you?"
"Proof!? There must have been hundreds of witnesses who saw what happened! Question anyone on the docks, man! They'll tell you. But why wait? Let us go aboard immediately and search. They haven't had time to hide everything, I'm sure. We should probably start in the hold. They many have tried to hide things among their other cargo." The merchant again attempts to take a step forward, but he is blocked by the guard's outstretched hand.
"Captain Turion, do you wish to allow this man aboard your ship?"
"I think not, Guardsmen Lieutenant Craeterre. Of course, you and your men are welcome aboard any time. If you care to step aboard now and conduct a thourough search, I have nothing against it. Perhaps it will ease this merchant's mind and put rest to these accusations, and your subsequent testimony may prove useful if I choose to press suit against the Bledsum family."
The guardsman looks wary for a moment. "I think if I have a look around, that shall be more than sufficient in all respects." The Guardsmen Lieutenant steps aboard the vessel and glances around the deck. "I'll just have a look in the cabin and the hold then." G.Lt. Craeterre glances at the captain with raised brows.
"Braer. Malachi, escort the Guardsmen Lieutenant below."
Braer, Malachi, and G.Lt. Craeterre walk toward the cabin beneath the poop. At the moment they reach the door, it opens from within, and Troth is standing there looking slightly confused to see the stranger dressed in a uniform standing between the doctor and the First Mate. Behind him in Colmarr's cabin, Colmarr and Magyar are just putting the finishing touches on Naomi's disguise.
“I guess you’d better hop on my bed then Lissa, as it seems we’ve run out of time,” Colmarr whispers, “Try to look and sound a little sick if they come in...” Colmarr then begins to sing softly and appears to be comforting the gnomish woman on the bed.
OOC: Catching a glance of unfamiliar clothing on someone outside the door through Troth’s legs, Colmarr begins casting lullaby (-5 to listen/spot checks) at the people outside the doorway (centred on the unfamiliar clothing).
Being suprised by the man in hauberks and with a sword by his side, that suddenly enters the room, Troth reacts naturaly trying to intimidate the stranger "who are you"" "and what do you do onboard this ship?" Troth seems more or less angry out there he stands placing his hand on the nod of his weapon. "Captain!" he screams out loud
Seeing that Colmarr has Naomi in hand, Magyar pops out into the hallway. Troth's sword probably has the guard's attention, but there's still his disguise gear to be put away.
"Troth, keep a level head," Mag says evenly. As he moves to "place a calming hand" on Troth, Mag takes the opportunity to shift his cloak to block the arm with the kit, and slips the bag from the barbarian's hand into his own. He turns to face the newcomer, hands moving behind his back as he slightly bows his head and flashes a disarming smile. Here he hopes to keep the kit concealed under the cover of formality.
"I'm sure Braer wouldn't be bringing the officer down here without the captain's permission, would you Braer?" He flashes a disarming smile at the men as he seeks to put them all at their ease.
"No, I would not Mag. Let me present Gaurdsman Lieutenant Craeterre. He is here to search for stolen goods aboard our ship." Braer steps out from in front of the gaurd and listens intently to the conversation while trying to appear bored
On the docks, the merchant's oarsmen are shifting nervously and glancing furtively at the armed guards who are leaning on their spears as if they haven't a care between them. The short snippish man who had been at the tiller of the longboat and then led the guards back to the Pander Ban has come up behind the merchant on the gangplank, scowling fiercely at the crew. He is about five feet tall and skinny, with a mean little face, a long, sharp nose, and dark eyes. There is a small white scar beneath his left eye which stands out as he scowls. He has stringy black hair that falls to his shoulders, and one of his long-fingered hands caresses the sword hilt hanging on his right hip. On his left hip he carries what appears to be a coiled black whip. Every now and then, the man gnashes yellow teeth behind thin, snarling lips. As he advances up the gangplank to stand behind the merchant, Wakil is sickened by the stench of evil which permeates the man and follows him, oozing from his pores like cheap perfume.
"This is Orpheus, my loyal man." Merchant Bledsum speaks to Captain Turion in a soft conversational tone and his face is genial, but his eyes are hard as flint. "Regardless of how this turns out today, we both know you have something of mine, and I will have it back, one way or another. If you do not give her to me now, you shall give her to Master Orpheus later, and I can promise you, you won't like that."
Captain Turion has been growing red in the face at the audacity of this merchant. Now he speaks, and his voice is cold. "Take yer idle threats an' be gone from my ship, merchant. Ya pollute th' very air with yer presence, an' I shall have no more t'do with ye, now or ever."
Down below, G.Lt. Craeterre seems confused for a moment as Colmarr begins singing and Troth challenges him. Magyar takes the opportunity to slip the disguise kit from Troth and place it just inside the doorway of the galley against the wall.
"Ah, yes, First Mate Braer is quite right. I'll just have a look around if you don't mind?" G.Lt. Craeterre lifts his eyebrows at Troth in question. Assuming the barbarian allows him to pass, he'll move on to Colmarr's cabin, commenting as he goes, "You seem to have a lot of fighting men for a merchant vessel."
The guardsman lieutenant enters Colmarr's cabin. "And what have we here?" Naomi has crawled under the covers of Colmarr's bed and is feigning sleep, though her brow is scrunched up as if in pain or intense concentration. Even in gnomish makeup she is cute. Next to her, Colmarr sings a soft lullaby.
Turning his head, Colmarr moves his finger in front of his mouth to shush the guard, before speaking quietly as he concentrates on the spell, “My sister sir, she hasn’t been well during the voyage,” before he turns back to the bed and continues singing the lullaby while stroking her hair.
OOC: Bluff +5, Diplomacy +7
Naomi coughs softly into her hand. "I'm feeling much better now, oni.* Do you think I'll be able to go into the town?"
Guardsman Lieutenant Craeterre arches an eyebrow at Colmarr. "Your sister, eh? What's wrong with her? I would hate to have to quarantine this vessel."
Malachi steps forward quickly. "Oh, it's nothing to worry about, I assure you. I'm the ship's doctor, you see. Young miss has been rather frightened. I don't know that the ocean agrees with her."
*Naomi uses the gnomish word for "brother."
“Well now the ship is docked I’m sure you’ll get better quickly Lissa, and getting you onto solid ground might be the best medicine so I don’t see why not,” Colmarr replies. Kissing his sister on the forehead as he stands to speak with the guard, he also moves to obscure his view at the same time, “As Malachi says sir, she’s been troubled with seasickness for most of the journey, so she’s a little under the weather...nothing more than that.”
"And I've got something always helped me here," Mag says as he returns to the room, carrot held out with a bright smile. "Mamma Rhineholdt always gave a soul a carrot first off. Said the crunching and chewing were a good way to get a body strong again."
As he hands off the carrot to Colmarr, Mag turns innocently to the guardsmen. "So, what is it's been stolen that you're looking for, anyway, if you don't mind my asking?"
Taking the carrot, Colmarr replies, “Thanks Magyar, but I think we’ll stay away from any food until we’re on solid ground, I don’t want to have to scrub the cabin floor again...it was hard enough to clean up last time.”
G.Lt. Craeterre gives Colmarr, Magyar, and Naomi and unreadable look. "Well, then, I hope she'll be feeling better soon. Be careful taking her into Tortila. The docks have been rough lately." With that, he turns and walks out and quickly completes a cursory inspection of the ship. Meanwhile, back at the gangplank . . .
Bledsum sneers at Wakil, but as he opens his mouth, Orpheus steps forward and begins to speak. "You wish to know me, Knight?" His voice is soft and raspy, and his hand hovers near the hilt of his sword. "I am the Terror that creeps into your bones and chills you in the Night. I am the Darkness which smothers your Light. I am the Nightmare that fills you with Fright. To know me is to know Doom. Where I go, I bring Pain. Where I pass, I leave nothing but Lamentation. Would enjoy that, Knight?" Here he gives a wicked grin, his red tongue flicking over his thin lips as his left hand carresses his whip suggestively. "A more intimate meeting could be arranged."
Those aboard are saved from having to respond by the arrival of G.Lt. Craeterre. "I have completed my inspection of the ship and have found all to be in order. Merchant Bledsum, you and your men are ordered to clear out and leave Captain Turion in peace."
Merchant Bledsum shakes an angry fist at Captain Turion. "You haven't heard the last of this, boatswine." The merchant deliberately mispronounces the title, which is itself a demotion of the captain's position. "Your pet guards cannot protect you forever." The fat blusterer turns and schlumps down the gangplank, gesturing to his men to follow. Orpheus gives one final dark sneer before turning and following his master. Shortly, the men are gone from the docks.
"Thank you, Guardsman Lieutenant Craeterre, for your fine work."
"Any time, Captain. I will send a contingent of guards down to watch your ship while you furlough your men."
"Thank you, again, Craeterre. I believe I shall require them for the duration of our stay. The usual arrangement?"
"Yes, of course, anything you require Captain. The Tortila Guard is here to serve." With a smile, G.Lt. Craeterre turns and proceeds down the gangplank, gesturing to his men. They, too, are soon lost in the crowd.
Captain Turion turns to the crew. "All right, men, we need to get the Pander Ban ship-shape and ready to sell her wares. If we work hard, we should have just enough time before the guards arrive to furlough you. Once we are finished, see me in my cabin to receive your pay. The ship is open to you for the duration of our stay in Tortila, but do not bring anyone aboard." He says this with a hard look at Grondar. "Otherwise, have fun, and enjoy yourselves. You've earned it. We'll likely be headed out in a few days, and you're all more than welcome to join me for the next leg of our journey. Now, all you swabs, get to work!"
Mag slumps back against the wall with a relieved sigh when the guard has exited to the upper deck. He looks at the carrot in his hand and chuckles, then takes a bite of it.
"I think I need the energy, but I'll do my best not to add to your poor floor's predicament," Mag says with a wry smile to Colmarr.
To Troth he adds, "I stashed your kit in behind the dry goods in the galley whenever you want to get it. Figured our little gnome here would come off better without that around to call the guard to look too close, you know?"
Hearing the captain yelling for all hands above, Mag starts for the deck, hurriedly finishing the carrot and saying around a full mouth, "No rest for us, I guess."
“Oh I don’t imagine anyone will be decorating my cabin floor today, but it’s always good to add a little truth to the lie...it makes the whole thing easier to swallow,” Colmarr chuckles, winking as he concludes his statement.
Reacting to the captain’s call, Colmarr asks Naomi, “Will you be okay here for a while, as I’ve got to go and see if I’m needed for the heavy work?” He waits for a response before heading out to speak with the captain.
"You have a fast hand there" ... "excellent move my friend" ..."I think I better take the kit in my backpack" "i don't like have my thing spread out everywhere at the ship" he retrieves the kit form behind the dry goods and packs the kit carefully in a aged cloth piece and lies it in a concealed pocket inside his backpack.
Up on deck the captain yells all men to work.
Troth gets his armor from his room and wraps it on, sword by his side, and go to work. When he comes updeck, the wind strikes his face from the south and the sun warms his face.
He talks to the Captain "Any special security measures you want to discuss Captain?" "I don't like the look of us relaxing at this port, or even worse, splitting up" "that merchant is bad news..." “I suggest for you that any group on land must stay together at all time” ... “what work you want me to do?” “pack the sails?” Troth looks up and see Noonchuck already are climbing the main mast looking down at him with a 'get up here and work' look.
Wakil will go about his duty of getting the ship ready to go back to sea and transferring the goods ashore and follows any other commands the captain may give.
This guy looks dangerous, here goes my free time alone in the city. Grondar thinks to himself, now that this guy saw him on deck. Darn! says Grondar to himself and goes to the lower deck, he will start to lift the crates of good and wares to the upperdeck.
"Oh, I'll be fine for a little while, but you won't leave me down here all alone when you go ashore, will you?" Naomi stares up at him with pleading eyes which look very blue in the cabin's low light.
"You're quite right, of course, Troth. I think it would be wise for the crew to stick together while ashore. The ship should be fine, though. I've known Guardsman Lieutenant Craeterre for quite some time; he will send us his best men. Now, I suggest you haul in those sails before Noonchuck has it all done!"
As N'un T'Chauck, Troth, and Denther secure the sails, Braer directs the rest of the crew in bringing select crates from below up on deck. These will be samples to display for the merchants who will come later to bargain for the entire cargo.
The work is done quickly, though all are hot and sweaty by the time it is over, even Wakil, who is still soaked from his dip in the bay. One by one, the crew members knock on the captain's door to receive their pay.
Colmarr receives 15 gold as his initial wage, plus 5 gold as a dangerous combat bonus, plus 3 gold for his service as healer, plus 2 gold for his service as cook for a total of 25 gold. Captain Turion gives Colmarr an extra gold to buy Naomi some spare clothes and to outfit her with decent shoes.
Magyar takes his pay with a thankful smile, and adds it to his funds.
"Might actually be enough to get myself a decent bow," he thinks aloud. He had some lucky shots with his sling, but if more of the same excitement was going to be happening, something a little more ... martial might be called for.
For now, though, time to wash away the grime. Then, that carrot had been gone from his stomach for some time. Grub would definitely be called for. On his way to clean up, he asks Colmarr, "Anything special in mind for dinner, or are you finally done with chef's duties?"
“Of course not Lissa, I’ll come get you before I go ashore,” Colmarr replies warmly, “I’ll be back shortly.”
“Well I don’t know about dinner Magyar...I hadn’t given it much thought as I felt we might all eat in town tonight, but I’ll definitely continue with some cooking duties aboard ship,” Colmarr replies, surreptitiously using his active prestidigitation to clean Magyar’s clothes as they speak.
After completing his work, collecting his pay, and speaking with Magyar, Colmarr returns to his cabin. “See not too long after all, and the captain even gave me money to get you some spare clothes and shoes,” Colmarr remarks, using a little sleight of hand to make the gold coin appear and disappear, before he cleans up his clothes with his hopefully still active prestidigitation and washes his face, only then collecting his backpack, “There all done...ready to go Lissa?”
Denther pitches in with the hard work as much as he can, staying out of the way the rest of the time.
Troth nods to the Captain as he recollects his payment.
Not directing himself to anyone specific "I'm going to be on the pier" "i want to feels some fast ground under my feets" ... "I go with you wherever you want, as long we stay in a group"
He then turns around and walks out on upper deck drags a big breath of air filed with salty water. He walks down at the pier sitting down on one of the crates waiting for the others.
Wakil collects his wages from the captin and then goes below to change out of his wet clothes. He then mills about waiting for the group to leave for shore.
As Mag begins to clean up, he suddenly notices that his clothing has lost the dirt and odor he was dreading trying to get out.
"Tricky gnome," he mutters to himself as he dries water from his face and scrubs under his fingernails. "And I thought I was good at getting away with things while a fellow was distracted."
Once he's done, Mag once again has the dilemma about going armored and armed or not. Eventually, he decides to compromise: wear the armor, take the dagger and sling, but leave the more obvious shortspear behind. He supposes it will be easier to shed the protective gear if the more martial crewman don't see a need for it, so he might as well play it safe for now.
Geared up and spiffed as he can manage given the circumstances, Magyar heads out to find the others and figure out where it is they'll all be finding their dinner.
Naomi laughs and claps her hands for Colmarr's display of dexterity in making the coin appear and disappear. "Oh, yes please, let's go. I'm getting tired of this stuffy old cabin."
Down on Pier 3, the crew is slowly congregating. Shortly, a group of guards arrives to relieve the crew, and they are free to go. The city of Tortila is open to them, with all it's myriad charms.
Deciding he doesn’t need anything in his backpack right now after all Colmarr puts it back in the corner, before he and Naomi head down to the pier. “So where shall we go first folks...the markets?” he asks.
OOC: Colmarr has everything not listed in his backpack, except his second (full) case of bolts.
Wakil with all of his wordly riches upon him agrees that a merchant should be first. He offeres a quick prayer to his god for protection of the whole crew and the ship before following whoever takes the lead. He will not jostle for postion but would like to be near the front of the group. He would lead but is unsure of the way and will let someone more confidant go in front of him.
Grondar turns to Colmarr You can't go to the markets without drinking a beer first, Let's go to the "Sleeping Sailor", I heard the beer and Malt are quite good and then head to the markets, Who's with me? he calls out loudly
"Thank you for your kind words, captain." Denther leaves the captains office and head to his bunk, changes closthes into something a bit less "sea-worn", and heads down to the pier. Arriving there, he approaches Grondar. "Grondar, the captain said you might know where to look for a college or library. could you point me in the right direction?"
As the others debate their destination, Mag suddenly starts.
"You guys hash this out, and I'll follow wherever, but I need to run fetch something quick."
The armor's annoying to run in, but Mag hustles to keep from holding up the group. When he gets to his backpack in the cargo hold, he roots around in it a moment. First he pulls out his signal whistle and strings it onto his neck. He's not expecting trouble, but it certainly wouldn't hurt to have a quick way to call for help. The second item he pulls out, biting his lip. Only hesitating a second, he slips his lockpick / escape tools into one of his cloak's many pockets.
His safety nets all thusly arranged, Mag straps the shortspear to his backpack and leaves it behind, running back up front to the group.
"Ready whenever you guys are."
No problem Denther my friend ...he taps on the ranger's shoulder Also there are more interesting stuff than a library He mutters quietly to himself... Do you see the tall tower of the church Grondar points to the direction of the roofs behind the port
Behind the church There is a large square and a nice stone fountain in the middle, The Library is over there, but join us to a drink friend before you go to delve in books.
“I don’t know Grondar, somehow I usually make do without a beer before browsing through a merchants wares,” Colmarr remarks, shaking his head and grinning at the big man as his first thoughts go to alcohol again, “If you just have to have a beer before you can stand the thought of merchants though, I suppose we can do that first.”
[Edit -- There is a scene missing here where N'un T'Chauck speaks with the Captain alone in his chambers and receives his pay. There was an important clue here, but since N'un T'Chauck was the only one who saw it and he appears to have gone missing, I won't take the time to repeat it.]
Noonchuck stows his harpoon and ice axe in their usual place on the ship and secures his coins in a small pouch that he carries on his belt. He checks to make sure he has his obsidian knife in its belt sheath, and then joins the others on deck as they prepare to debark from the ship.
"I would very much like to see the sights in this town. Let us stay together as brothers..." he says to the group, smiling. He is wary of large towns as there are many things strange to him in them. He's seen many sights in Antigrol, but each of these place is different, and has its own wonders-- and dangers.
Wakil offers up a prayer, that someday they begin moving, to his god. Talking to himself "I hate learning patience."
“Well looks like we’re all ready to go, so you lead the way Grondar, and we can go get that drink you want,” Colmarr says, walking up to the big man and giving him a gentle push in the direction of the city to get him moving, before taking up a safer position in the middle of the group near Naomi as they head off.
"Yeah Grondar" "you'r the one that know the city most" "lets go for that drink and after we go to the market" Troth adjusts his armour and weapon.
Denther Shows a sly grin " I know there are more exiting things than books, Grondar. Believe me, I will not spen all my time in port in the library. I know what the red roofs mean and I may even visit one before it's time to weigh anchor again.
As far as a drink goes, I think a bit of drink and food would be just the thing to settle a sea-worn stomach. Goodness knows I could use something other than hard tack. I'm ready whenever you are."
When Braer and Troth finally make it down to the impatient crew, Braer has his hood thrown back for the first time. He seems somehow subtly different with his hood thrown back, but, ah well, it's a beautiful day, and the Sleeping Sailor awaits.
Grondar leads them through crowded streets where, despite the lack of activity in the harbor, people still bustle about on their daily tasks, hawkers still cry their wares, be they pins and ribbons or tacos and fajitas, and carts still roll through the streets. Once off the docks and the main paved thoroughfare, the streets are dusty, hard-packed earth. Here, most of the buildings are warehouses, but tucked between them are the occasional red- and blue-roofed buildings.
The people here seem in healthy spirits, and there is a feeling of activity and industry in the air. In a surprisingly short amount of time, they have arrived in front of a single story building with a blue roof sloping away to the back. The crude sign over the door bears a picture of a man passed out at a table with a mug of grog in his fist. The tavern is flanked by warehouses on either side which serve to cast deep shadows in the allies. The door is propped open, and inviting.
The inside of the tavern is very dim after the brightness of the street and cooler, too. The room is practically empty, which is no surprise given the time. The bar stretches along the back wall, and there is a door behind the bar leading presumably to a rear room or the back alley. In the front right corner is a small stage, empty now. The rest of the room is filled with long, low trestle tables and benches, and the floor is strewn with sawdust, damp in patches.
"It smells funny in here," remarks Naomi, and indeed it does, a mixture of vomit, blood, and stale beer, all covered over with the smell of old sawdust, dirt, and fish. At one end of the bar, the bartender is talking to the lone customer. They seem to be discussing an object held between them in the bartender's small hands. As the party draws closer, their conversation becomes clear.
"...elling you it's real, man!" the bartender is saying, gesturing to the object he holds. It seems to be a round ring of metal about the size of a man's hand, though hardly any metal can be seen through the rust that encrusts it. "Look there, right there, and tell me it don't say . . ." at this point he looks up, noticing his new customers, and hands the ring to the other man. "Hey, what you want?"
"I don't know, Ton . . ." the man sitting at the bar says, looking closely at the ring and rubbing at it. "It's hard to make out the inscription through all this rust, or even if there is an inscription."
"Well, it's rusted 'cause it been at the bottom of the putin ocean, man!"
"Hmm . . ." The customer continues to examine the ring. He is a middle-aged balding man, and well dressed for the area. He is wearing slacks and a good shirt with a jacket draped over the barstool next to him. As the crew draws closer he looks up. "Oh, pardon me," he says, removing his jacket from the barstool and placing it over his lap.
“Yes it does Lissa...fortunately you’ll get used to it if you spend enough time in this kind of place so I’m told, unfortunately I’m far from used to it,” Colmarr replies, rubbing his sensitive nose as they walk to the bar.
As the continue to cross the room, Colmarr asks his companions, “Shall we sit at the tables or the bar?”
“Well sir we had thought to give you our patronage, if that is to your liking,” Colmarr replies to the bartender, “What have you in the way of libations?”
Troth walks to the bartender “a mug of ale to me please” he sits down at the empty barstool next to the customer with the ring “any news from this part of the world?” directing himself to the customer and bartender “been on a long journey and im quite happy to have some solid ground under my feet” “and i will be more happy when i get that ale” he smiles at his best.
"No trouble at all," Mag says to the customer as other members of the crew engage the barman. He smiles disarmingly and shows a casual curiosity as he nods to the ring. "Interesting trinket you've got there. Bit worse for the wear, though. I hear you say it's got an inscription?"
Hey fellow. he says to the bartender and shakes his hand Don't know if you remember me, But I was here several times with my old gnome boss ... nah ..never mind, just give me one of your good white beers, the one you store in the basement.
Grondar goes to Troth and whisper to him Pssst...the white beer is far better over here, if you want some strong good ale save your coins and come with me in the evening to the "Arrow in the bull" tavern, you can gamble over there also.
Not interesting with the customer's business, he takes his drink and goes to speak with the waitress (if none around) he orders some tobbaco also and sits in the corner for a smoke.
When Braer walks in it takes him a moment to shake off the smell. When he does he too walks up to the man and looks to the trinket, "Yep mag certainly looks worse for wear alright," Then to the stranger,"where did you get one like that."
When Troth receives his Ale he goes over to the corner where Grondar is sitting "what a smell its in here, he?" “worse then on a damn fishing ship”... "this gambling place you say, I hope its one of those dangerous corners" “im sure theres some money to get there” he leans over to Grondar and says in whisper "i would like to fight some of those boys" "the merchant type of boy..." "that man cant be any good after what.... the little girl told us, you agree?" he takes a big mouth of ale "not that bad this either" he says and point at the mug. "anyway.... we should be prepared to get attacked" "that merchant is going to try to get the girl whatever it costs him".
Troth leans back at the chair facing the bar "Hey Colmarr!" "come here my friend "you drinking any?" "please buy something to yourself and Lissa on my account" ... "maybe he has some juice stored, to the girl". He looks back at Grondar “you have some more of that tobacco?”
Noonchuck takes in the smells and sights of the tavern, not really sure what he will want to eat and drink. His tribe made wine of sorts from berries during the summer, and mead from honey stolen from the wild bees that lived in the trees nearby, but he was never much of a drinker. He approaches the bar a bit sheepishly and asks, "I'd like some fish and some of what my friend is drinking..." he motions towards Troth. "How many coins would that be?" He asks.
"We got grog. We got all kinds of grog. We got tall grog, short grog, weak grog, strong grog, light grog, dark grog, thick grog, thin grog, we got grog for morning, noon, and night. We got plains grog and mountains grog, and we even got grog from the islands down south. We got barbarian grog and noble grog and tribal grog and holy grog and grogs for each day o' the week. We got watered down grog and fired up grog, gnomish distilled grog and dwarven stout grog. We got soft grog, hard grog, sweet grog, bitter grog, smelly grog, and slimey grog. We got grog that's hot, grog that's cold, and grog ta make you happy, sad, or rich, grog for planting, grog for growing, and grog ta bring in tha harvest. We got grog to cry in, grog to piss in, grog that been pissed in, and grog ta piss ya off. We got grog to sleep off, grog to go off, and grog to off you. Hey, we even got grog pulled up off the bottom of the ocean. If we don't got it, you don't want it. Now, what you want?" [Glad we didn't lose this post.
-ed]"Ale? What's ale?" the tavern keeper asks with a blank stare. A moment later he breaks into a broad grin. "Hey, just kiddin', man! One special ale, comming up!" He grabs a mug from under the bar and walks to one of the five large kegs behind the bar. He pulls the tap, filling the mug with a thick brown liquid with a foaming head. As he sets it down in front of Troth, he says, "Hey, man, who's payin' for all this?"
The bartender looks confused for a moment. "Basement? We ain't got no . . . Oh, you mean the good white beer in the 'basement,'" he says with a wink at Grondar. "Yeah, sure thing, man." The bartender heads through the back door, fortunately missing Grondar's comment about the Arrow in the Bull and returns a few moments later with a mug full of some sort of bubbling, pale yellow liquid. When Grondar asks about tobacco, he throws up his hands and says, "Hey, what do I look like to you, a tobacconist? Say, that's not a bad idea . . . but no, we don't got no tobacco. Unless you want some tobacco grog?"
"We ain't got no fish right now, neither. Ya missed lunch. But I'll getcha some grog." The bartender returns with a mug for N'un T'Chauck. He pulled it from a different keg, and it's a slightly lighter shade than Troth's. "It's a silver a mug," he says, placing the frothy beverage in front of the big barbarian.
Chuckling at the list of vague options, Colmarr replies, “Well you could have saved us both some time and just said we’ve got whatever your want...since you have it though, I’ll take a mug of gnomish beer.” Colmarr waits for the beer, tossing the coin on the bar as he takes it and Naomi to the table where Troth and Grondar have settled themselves.
“Hmm, that doesn’t look much like gnomish beer, I’d consider requesting my money back except I imagine there’s little chance of that. I’m sure we’ll find something nicer in the market for both of us Lissa...” he says on the way across to the table.
“Oh, I doubt he has anything other than alcohol Troth, considering everything on the list he rattled off was grog,” he says upon reaching the table, first helping Naomi onto a bench before taking a seat next to her. Taking a small sip of his beer from the large mug, he remarks, “And bad alcohol at that, tastes like old shoes,” before placing it on the table and pushing it towards Grondar, “Here have another if you like big man ...it’s not really to my taste.”
The bartender pulls tap for Colmarr, this time from the same keg he pulled Troth's beverage from. He sets it in front of Colmarr with a dull thud, quickly scooping the coin off the bar and into a pocket.
Troth's, Colmarr's, and N'un T'Chauck's grog are all dark and stout, with a taste like stale bread strained through an old shoe. N'un T'Chauck's has a peculiar tangy aftertaste. They are also all quite strong. Grondar's beverage tastes like stagnant, fetid rainwater, and smells about like it tastes. All in all, above average quality for this type of place.
I got no Tobbaco, he don't sell it. He replies to Troth. I will buy some in the market later on, I need a new hat or a bandage, like a pirate He laugh loudly to everyone that sits beside him and takes Colmarr's drink. Listen man. He turns to Troth again If you wanna fight, come to gamble with me later ... it always ends with a fight Grondar takes a sip from both his drink and Colmarr's drink and mix them in his stomach. As for the merchants, I'm sure Lady luck will arrange us another meeting with them
Moves up to the bar. "I always thought that it ended with...If you find grog we don't have...DRINK IT!!!... But i could be wrong. Mug of your darker grog please."
"I take the bill of the little one" he says from the chair pointing at Colmarr "the one of the big fella´ and my one"
"I guess your right about Lady Luck" ... "I'm sure up for some gambling if the group want to go" "and i take my fists with me" he slams it in the table making the mugs jump. "No tobacco ,he? maybe at the marked they got some" "I have been out of tobacco since my last sailor job". He turns to Colmarr and Naomi.
"the grog is fine" "what are your taste in drinks Colmarr?" "maybe some of that fine wine?" he gives Grondar a elbow in the ribs "Wine!" he laughs out a deep sounding laugh ...
The bartender laughs at Wakil's joke. "Hey, that's a good one, man! Never turn down grog. Heh. All right, a mug o' the dark, comin' up." He grabs another mug from under the bar and walks down to a keg at the far end. When he pulls the tap, nothing happens for a moment. Then, slowly, a dark, viscous liquid oozes from the keg into the mug. It foams up quickly when it hits the mug, and seems to break apart, becoming thinner. He lets the head die down and refills it three times before bringing the drink to Wakil. "Drink it quick, man. You don't want it to settle too much in the glass."
The middle-aged man at the end of the bar brightens at the interest and attention from Magyar, Denther, and Troth.
"Yes," he says, fingering the ring, "it does look a bit the worse for wear. If Toni here is to be believed, it has spent the last decade and a half or so at the bottom of the sea. He claims there is an inscription here--" "There is an inscription, man, right there!" "--an inscription here which ties this ring to one of the trimmest rigs to ever cut waves, the Jenny. But I can't seem to make anything out through all this rust, so I am going to take it back to my shop and see if I can't get it cleaned up."
"You do an' it gonna cost ya! Ain't nothin' leaves my hands without money, friend."
Over at the corner table, Naomi says, "If you don't want your drink, oni, let me have a sip." She reaches for the mug, lifting it in her two small hands, and takes a drink from it. She nearly drops it as she begins coughing and sputtering and spitting, her face pinched in a grimace of distaste. "Eww! That's aweful!"
"What's wrong with her? She no like my grog?" To Troth he says, "You're covering their tab? That's three silvers, then."
Noonchuck takes his drink and goes to sit with Troth. "Hey Troth, Grondar... this does not taste very good. Is that what it is supposed to taste like?" He offers his mug to either one of them to taste his drink.
Before the bartender comes over to the table, Colmarr chuckles as he responds to Troth, “Well I prefer a flavourful ale, beer, or mead, though wine is good too as is a decent spirit, but I definitely prefer my drink not to taste like something I might’ve just walked through...”
Patting Naomi on the back, Colmarr says, “Don’t worry Lissa, I’m sure we can find something in the market that’ll take the taste away...”
“It’s probably a little rough for my sister sir,” Colmarr remarks to the bartender, “Hey I already paid for mine, so don’t you go charging him for it again!”
"So you've no food at all? My stomach's still a little uneasy to pouring anthing called 'grog' down there. I guess I'll take the lightest ale you've got."
To the other patron "Well met there stranger. That's quite the shiny you've got. Not in great shape though. You'll probaly need to get that cleaned befroe you could read any inscriptions. really powerfull alcohol might do it. then again, maybe not."
Denther will wander over to an open spot near the rest of his shipmates to await his drink.
While paying for his drink Wakil asks the bartender, "So how have things been going around here?"
Grondar turns to Noonchuck give it back to the bartender ... ha ha he push the mug away. I want to be sober when I visit the market and deal business, besdie it ... He looks to the bartender and says quietly I hate those Grogs, he gives me the "Special"
When he finish up his mug and half of Colmarr's drink he stands. Fellow, it's time for our next stop, the market, so finish your drinks and your business
Braer turns to the bar tender, "What does the alleged inscription say?"
As Braer asks details of he bartender, Mag politely asks the customer, "Maybe a fresh pair of eyes would help. Might I have a look?"
Troth empties his mug looks at Grondar "your right mate" "lets check out the market" he stands up and hands the bartender 3 silvercoins "here you are"
After Naomi stops coughing, Colmarr gets up off the bench and as he helps her off says, “Come on Lissa, lets walk around a bit, it might help,” and heads across to the bar, Naomi in tow, to see what has some of his crewmates so engrossed.
The bartender hands Denther a mug full of some sort of foamy liquid that looks like murky water. "That's one sliver, man." The bartender takes N'un T'Chauck's drink from his hand. "What, you don't like it neither? Puttin northerners . . . " he mutters under his breath while scooping up Troth's three silvers. He then heads back to the bar and begins speaking with Wakil.
"Things, they not so good, man. The business, it not so good around here now there's less ships coming in and more people going out. Not that I blame them myself, but I ain't letting no puttin elves run me out of my femin tavern, you know what I'm sayin'? Is just that, some people, they heard about what happened down in the islands? And they start thinkin' them elves'll be coming north, next, right? Me, I'm not so sure, but I wish they'd hurry up and make up their minds. I mean, if they do get up here, at least I'd have somebody to sell to, man. That's why I turn to them trinkets, there, man, cause business been so slow. I got that ring there from a man who say he fished it out of the islands, right before the point-ears showed up. He fled lickity-split, man, he got nothin' left now. He trade me that for a pint. I think, maybe if Robbie there buys it, I make out on that deal, no? Am I smart or what, eh? I knew when I saw it and he tell me where he got it, and I see it have that inscription on it, it gotta be from the Jenny, ya know what I'm sayin'? So, anyway, you guys come in over land or by ship?"
Meanwhile, the gentleman at the bar is talking to those members of the crew gathered around him. "Well, I really can't make out the inscription here, but I suppose, if it is what Toni says it is, it should say 'Jenny' on it. We shall just have to wait and see after I get it back in my shop. I have the proper cleaning agents there. If you'd care to take a look, be my guest, only do be careful. I'm afraid it may be rather delicate, and if this truly is a ring from the Jenny . . . " He gives a slight shudder and trails off, handing the ring to Magyar.
To the customer, "Pardon my ignorance, but who or what is the Jenny?" and then to the bartender, "Not so fast sir but I believe my companions drink was already paid for by one of the four sillvers you have already recieved."
Wandering up to Magyar, Colmarr takes a look at the ring too as he tries to recall something of the ship.
OOC: Colmarr will make a Bardic Knowledge check (+6) to see if he knows anything of the Jenny, telling Magyar what he knows (assuming he has some information of course).
Mag takes the ring gingerly, inspecting it to see what he can make out. Braer saves him having to ask about the ship the patron so clearly knows a story about.
"We came by ship we have some things for sale down at the docks. So in this time of change who is in charge of this city? What happend down in the sountern islands? What other 'trinkets' have you picked up? What is the story of the Jenny?"
Noonchuck shakes his head as the barkeeper takes his drink away. Well, I wasn't going to drink it anyway... he thinks. He then goes to listen in on the other conversations that are going on.
Troth sees that the rest of the group isnt ready to go. He has no interest in the trinket so he slaps Grondar and Noonchuck over their backs, laughing a little laugh as he do it, already in a better mood after the drinking the grog. "hehe" "seems the others arent ready to go" "I be sitting over here"... he sits down on a chair near the group, allowing him to hear what they say.
Yep. seems like we are going to stay here a little bit, until they'll finish their business Grondar goes to lean on the bar's door, he look outside at those who are passing the street at the shops around, here and there he whistles and winks to the women and to wandering dogs.
As Grondar looks out, he sees Malachi walking towards him. "Ah! There you are. I thought I was lost for a second--all these roofs look the same to me. With only three colors, there aren't enough land marks." He pats Grondar on the shoulder as he takes a step in.
"Hello, all, sorry I'm a bit late. Hello sirs I don't know. Nice to meet you." He moves closer and waves, but doesn't sit. "I'll just wait for you to finish--I need to get some new clothes. I've had these ratty old things for quite a while."
Wakil waving back, "Hello Malachi, glad to see that you caught up with us. The bartender was just telling us about the ring, Jenny, and the southern islands."
Colmarr's Bardic Knowledge:
The legend of the Jenny is well known in southern parts, though a great mystery surrounds her and her nameless captain. Unfortunately, Colmarr missed Legends of the Human Southern Islands 101, so he has no idea what was so great about her. He does seem to remember that there was a ballad that told the story rather well. Too bad he can't seem to recall it.
The bartender speaks to Braer. "Whatdoyamean, not so fast? Aye, I received four silvers, man, I can count, what, you think I'm stupid or something? Big Man, there--" and here he gestures to Grondar, "--he ordered the special white beer, see? That's two silvers a mug, man. So, like I was sayin', that'll be one silver."
Magyar looks the ring over, turning it over in his hands and feeling it. It's probably made from steel or brass, though brass doesn't usually rust like that. Judging by the way the rust is patterned, it's quite possible that there is an inscription or engraving of some kind on it. Of course, it really is impossilbe to be certain just from looking at it. Still . . . Using a fingernail, Magyar is able to scrape off a bit of rust revealing what could be a line of some sort etched in the surface.
"Please don't do that. You know, I'm not sure I believe everything people say about the Jenny," here the customer shudders again as if thinking about something unpleasant, "but there are some people who are still looking for her. If Toni here is right, this little ring could be worth something to the right buyer."
"Ha! You see! You do believe me!"
"I said if, Toni. If. But forgive me, friends, I have not properly introduced myself. My name is Robert Begnam. I run a modest antiquities shop in Upper Tortila. I deal in artifacts and relics of all kinds. I even have rare items from beyond the ocean, from the lands of the elves and the gnomes, even things from beyond the dwarven mountains, and from beneath them. I have chairs and tables graced by the presence of the heroes of legends, beds whereupon rested fair maidens, and royal seals blessed by ancient kings. I have swords wielded by the Army of Thousands, which drove the barbarians from these shores and into the hills many years ago, and made this land we stand upon suitable for civilized men. I have axes and spears from those same barbarians, and a fur wrap worn by the barbarian king Nanrog himself, taken from the brutes dead body by Anyl the Deliverer. I have coins from every realm and kingdom since the dawn of civilization and ceremonial daggers from a hundred different ancient tribes, even some rumored to be used in human sacrifice, if that is to your taste. I have books written by ancient scribes, setting down the first knowledge of humanity. I even have the very first recipe for making beer. All of these wonders and more you can find in Begnam's Shop of Antiquities, on Vine Street in Upper Tortila."
"Hey, man, they wanna know about the Jenny, not about your old stinky junk."
"Pay no attention to him. He wouldn't know a true antique if...well, if someone gave it to him for a pint of grog. But as I was saying, the Jenny. Ahem. The Jenny was a single masted pleasure schooner built sometime between two and three decades ago, as near as anyone can figure. She was quite a trim little ship, and--"
"Aw, man, you tellin' it all boring and teacher like. Listen, you guys come back here tonight, right after sunset. I got a guy who sings the song, the Ballad of the Jenny, in a voice like you wouldn't believe. Near brings me to tears every night, I swear. He tell the story a whole lot better than ol' Robbie can. And if that don't do it for you, I got a girl, too, who sing and dance, man, moves you won't believe til you see 'em. She got hips that shake and--"
"Ahem." Robert clears his throat rather loudly. "If they want to know more about the...show, I'm sure they will return and see it this evening." The man has turned a curious shade of red. He is saved from further embarrasment by Malachi's entrace.
The bartender looks at Malachi when he walks in. "You look like you could use a drink, man. What can I get ya?"
Grondar leans against the doorframe, idly watching people pass by. He's lived most of his life in the docks, and he can tell that the activity is a bit light for what should be a busy port. Of course, the lack of ships in the harbor could explain this. The lack of shipping is troublesome, but he doesn't see any day laborers loafing around like they normally do when there's no work. There should be many more people in the tavern drinking, too.
Down the street there are several warehouses. A man comes out of one of them, turns up the alley beside the warehouse, and disappears from view. Grondar didn't get a good look at him, and he was only there for a moment, but he could have swore it was that merchant's lackey from down on the docks, the little Orpheus guy.
Turning to the other members of the crew, "Well I guess we can move on to the merchants," turning to the bartender, "I think you have sparked our intrest friend there is a good chance we may come back tonight. Some for the ballad the others for those hips you where so causally mentioning." With the last sentece he looks pointedly at some of his fellow crew members.
“Indeed Wakil, it all sounds most interesting,” Colmarr says with a grin and a wink.
“Hmm, well I might also visit your shop friend should I have the time,” Colmarr says to Robert, “Sounds like you have some interesting items there I’d definitely like to see and perhaps purchase if I can afford them. I may even be able to assist you with a bit of information on some of your items, especially those of the nonhuman races.”
"Oh, nothing thank you. I know I don't look so well, but I really do just need a change of clothes."
Malachi, having missed the previous conversation, "Oh, a ring? Wha--oh, that ring? That'd fit a rather large finger, I'd think. What's all this, then? Why do we have to come back here?"
"Sorry," Mag says, grinning sheepishly. "I get a little caught up sometimes." He holds the ring up before him in his right hand, looking through it at Begnam. "What with all the strangeness since we met the elves, I really should be more careful. No idea when something might--" with a flourish of both hands, Mag palms the ring in his left hand, showing the empty right with a look of mock surprise. "--magically disappear. Oh, my."
Mag doesn't hold the ruse longer than a beat. He produces the ring in his left hand, placing it gently on the bar before Begnam, then bows his head slightly. "Magyar Rhineholdt. Pleased to meet you."
Braer apollogizes to the bar tender, "I'm sorry, I must have missed that peice. You can never be too careful though, some people would try to collect the profit twice, and you never can tell."
Grondar keeps looking at the alley, wating for the man to reappear again. He then turns back and calla loudly to the group who talk to Begnam Friends, we don't have all day, let's move to the market
“Well Malachi, I for one would like to hear the Ballad of the Jenny, which is to be sung here this evening, and then there is the other entertainment which apparently shouldn’t be spoken about in polite company, if you get my meaning,” Colmarr replies with a wink.
“Yes lets get to the market before everyone shuts up shop, thinking they’re not getting any more patronage this day,” Colmarr remarks.
Malachi looks thoroughly confused now, "I thought the bartender here was going to tell us about the ring, Jenny, and the southern islands. Was I misinformed? I do want to go to the market this day, but a story shouldn't take so long."
"The barteder recommended that we come back later to hear the story from a better 'teller. We could hear it now, but I for one would prefer hear the story well the first time." Braer stands up and begins to move towards the door.
"A better teller? As a song? Why don't we hear both versions and decide for ourselves?"
“Actually the gentleman,” Colmarr says, inclining his head toward Robert, “Was going to tell us of the Jenny, but I thought we might hear the telling of that later as we peruse his shop. I know I’d definitely like a look at that ring when it’s all cleaned up, as would Magyar no doubt by the interest he’s shown so far...”
Naomi gives a little gasp when Magyar makes the ring disappear. "Where'd it go, Magyar, where'd it go?" Robert gives a startled jump before relaxing when Magyar places the ring back on the bar. The little girl in disguise claps her hands together with a bright grin and a giggle.
"That's quite a talent you have there, young man," the antiquities dealer says, picking up the ring and turning it over in his hands. "Remarkable."
Toni the Bartender takes Braer's coin as soon as he profers it. "Yeah, well, they some people who no so honest. You got to keep a good grip on your purse, you know what I mean?" He casts a suspicious eye on Magyar as he speaks, having noticed the magician's earlier trick with the ring. His face suddenly brightens as he gets an idea. "Hey, man," he says, speaking to Magyar, "you ever thought about performing? A man with your talents, could make a lot of money if you worked here in my tavern, you know what I'm saying? Eh?"
Where Grondar stands at the door, he can see up and down the street in both directions. He doesn't see the man emerge from the alley again. Perhaps it goes on through to the next street over? Casting his eyes up and down the street, he sees mostly warehouses and a few taverns, and an inn down on the corner. All of the interesting shops will be further up in the city.
Upon hearing Colmarr talk about "other entertainment," Naomi looks up at him. "What sort of other entertainment, oni?" she asks with innocent eyes. "Are we going shopping, soon? I would like a new dress, please."
Robert stands, pulling on his coat. "Well, I really must be going gentlemen. Here, Toni, I'm taking this ring with me," he says, slipping the ring into his pocket, "and I'm leaving you the three coppers it cost you. Don't worry, if it's what you say it is, we'll discuss a real price later. If not, you owe me a mug of, um, grog, I guess." He places a few coins on the bar and turns to head out the door. "Remember, gentlemen, if you have the time, Begnam's Shop of Antiquities, on Vine Street in Upper Tortila. Good day."
Mag puffs up a little at the compliments, but at the mention of the money to be made, he actually sags a bit. With a rueful smile, he says, "I fear the days of my kind of parlor tricks are coming to an end. The elves bring real magic, after all. But thank you for the offer."
He gives a nod to Bregman as the man leaves. "We'll surely do our best to stop by."
Magyar smiles warmly to Lissa, saying "I definitely think we should stop at the dressmaker's next." Then a wicked gleam enters his eye as he adds. "Let's make sure we all tell Grondor together, shall we?" The thought of watching the thug recoil at having to dress shop rather nicely takes away the stinging reminder of Mag's former life.
Giving Magyar a look which clearly says, thank you for leaving me with the entertainment question, Colmarr turns to Naomi and whispers, “Well I’m not sure exactly Lissa, but from the shop owners reaction I would guess it’s a rather risqué performance designed to excite male spectators, and is not really something young ladies should see.”
Colmarr then continues in a normal tone. “We should be on our way very soon Lissa, if fact right now if no one has any other business here,” he asserts, looking around. “Hmm, a new dress you say...yes I think a new dress or two might be right at the top of our list,” Colmarr says smiling.
“Indeed we will stop by, should we get the chance,” Colmarr calls after Robert as he leaves, echoing Magyar’s statement.
These men talk swiftly and with strange words, thinks Noonchuck as he strains to follow the story of the Jenny and the antiquities shop. It sounds to him like this man is an ancestor worshipper, from the way he collects and saves these items from the past. He pats the obsidian blade in its sheath by his thigh, feeling the tingle of his father's spirit in it. He can understand keeping trinkets that belonged to ones family, but those who you never knew? Curious behavior...
His stomach rumbles, but he waits stoically for the group to move on. Surely we will pass a place that has food when we continue our exploration, he thinks.
"Oh, the man owns a shop. Yes, we should stop by. That would be a wonderful time to listen to the story, then. Maybe tomorrow morning. Are we off to peruse what garments are available, then? I don't know the way." Malachi nods his head in agreement, looking at the others.
Troth stands up nod at the others, he walk out of the tavern door waiting for the others and take his place in the double row.
After Colmarr has done his explaining, Mag shrugs, though he can't help but smile a bit.
"Sorry, Colmarr, but it seemed it was a family matter," he says with a wink.
Finally Grondar thinks to himself. After me ladies ... ha ha he says and get's out. Grondar will then go to the market, on the way he shows them several interesting places like the "Ancestors bridge" they pass on, the golden opera and the must visit place - shrine of lady luck - (this is how he calls her) If you wanna gamble, pay a tribute here he says loudly when they pass along the fountain/shrine.
Noonchuck, there are food stands in the west part of the market, you can eat there, Denther the Library is on the next square to the north. Whenever they keep follow him or not, Grondar goes to buy some Tobbaco, new winter coat and hot corn on a stick
Mag hesitates when Grondor starts pointing crewmen to separate places.
"We're not splitting up, are we?" he says with mostly-masked concern. "I thought we'd decided--given our 'new friends' in town--that we should stick together for safety?"
"Sticking together is never a bad idea Mag, but it seems our priorities differ. I really would like to see the library before we have to leave port again and I don't know how long we have."
"Well, the captain said we'd be here a few days," Malachi shrugs, "So I don't think we're pressed for time."
“I suppose if we don’t all stray too far from each other it will be okay, after all we haven’t seen any signs of our ‘new friends’ following us as yet Magyar,” Colmarr declares.
Turning to Denther, he continues, “Yes, no need to rush off I think...I’d like to explore the library too, but perhaps best to leave it for tomorrow. After all they may charge a fee to explore their knowledge and if so it would be best to make a day of it, as they’re likely to close their doors in a few hours. We should go and find out when they’re open and if there is a fee though, but lets get our purchases out of the way first.”
Taking Naomi’s hand, he says, “Come on Lissa, lets go find you some new clothes, and perhaps some for me too. Anyone else coming?” he asks as they start to wander around the market, looking for clothing stalls or shops, while trying to keep the rest of the group in sight.
Mag bites his lip a moment, then acquiesces to the split. He grabs his whistle on the thong around his neck, however, and holds it up.
"So be it," he says, then smiles a bit nervously. "But if any of you hear a shrill whistle, I'd very much appreciate it if you came running."
As the group divides, Mag sticks by Colmarr and "his sister."
"I want to see if I can find a bowmaker, but otherwise I think I'm much better at mercantile shopping than the kind of thing Grondar has in mind," he says by way of explanation.
"Anyone else hungry?" ask Noonchuck. "I'm also interested in seeing the 'antiquities' shop when you decide to go there." He'll gravitate toward any group with Grondar or Troth.
Troth nods at Noonchuck "I am" "but im in no hurry" "I rather stay grouped with the others"
At N’un T’Chauck’s declaration of hunger and Troth’s reply, Colmarr stops after only a few steps. “Well I would eat now, but I’m going to be busy handling clothes, so I thought I’d leave food until I’m done with that...you know merchants, they tend to get upset when you stain their clothes and then don’t buy them,” Colmarr says grinning mischievously, “We could swing by the food stands and you two could pick up first though if you’d like.”
“As for the antiquities shop, well I hope to go there when we leave the market, via the library, but I’m not exactly sure how long we have...we should ask Grondar about that, I’m sure he knows when they start the entertainment at the Sleeping Sailor,” Colmarr replies, waiting for a short time to see if the two join them before continuing on, via the food stands if people want to get something now.
Previously...
“Oh, that. Why do you think adults like that, oni?”
Now...
"Will you buy me something nice to eat as well as a dress, oni? It's been ever so long since my last meal, and my tummy's sad." Naomi makes a face that is intentionally sad and cute at the same time, holding her hands over her belly. Naomi is, by nature, a cute little girl, but wow, when she tries, she can be outrageously heart-melting, far more than any person has a right to be.
Previously...
Colmarr waits until they are walking to the market to answer, so they can have a semblance of privacy. “Well onia*, things like that usually stir feelings of desire and pleasure...simply put it makes them feel good.”
Now, in the market...
“Of course, I meant you too onia,” Colmarr remarks, grinning broadly at Naomi’s antics, “I promise it won’t be too long, but the dress first I think and some shoes.”
OOC: *Gnomish word for sister (aren’t I lazy using a normal language convention).
"Oh, I'll go with you Colmarr." He tags along with the group, inwardly smiling at Naomi and Colmarr's conversation. Mostly, though, he scans the crowd, getting a feel for the people here, and how busy the market is.
"A fee? For a Library? I can understand it for a alehouse or an inn, or even for other things. But for a library? somehow that just seems wrong. Knowledge should be available to all, not just those who can afford it. Yes, it can wait until tomorrow and I am hungry."
“Yes, I’ve seen it quite a bit and I suppose it makes sense actually, especially for those not backed by a wealthy patron of some kind. After all they have to acquire and copy manuscripts, maintain the building, pay staff, and so forth...none of which is as a rule free,” Colmarr explains. “As for the fee itself, well it generally isn’t too much, but most people just don’t need the information libraries tend to contain.”
Malachi nods, "Well, if everyone had access to a library and there were no fees, then it would be easier for some of the tomes to be damaged. Especially the older ones, I imagine. Or, maybe, you just have to convince the library's owner to let you in, under his watchful eye."
“You’re right there Malachi, I’ve seen quite a few old tomes in my time and I wouldn’t want just anyone handling them. Though most libraries, if they have the time and resources, usually try to copy them and use the copies for viewing while they carefully store the original. Some people though demand to see the original text and won’t settle for a copy...you should see the consternation on the librarian’s face then,” Colmarr says, smiling as his thoughts drift to the times spent researching with his father.
Mag shrugs at the discussion. "I'm a good learner, but I'll admit I've not been in a lot of libraries. I tend to pick things up from the people I encounter. A good performer has to know how to listen to his audience, after all. But I'm certainly willing to give it a go. This voyage is all about my exploring new avenues, after all. Who knows what's there for the finding?"
“Yes, that’s the way most people learn...only going to a library when they can’t find the information they seek by conventional means,” Colmarr adds.
Braer stays out of the conversation, watching the streets for signs of trouble. He went with Colmarr and Malachi.
Wakil has assumed his normal position in the group. He will stay with the group that intends to go to the market and then back to the bar to hear the ballad. He like Braer is keeping his eyes open for signs of danger.
Troth follows Colmarr and Naomi on their shoping. He keeps his eyes open for any sign of the merchants mens.
"I'll definitely have to give the library a go if it's not too expensive after I find a bow," Mag says with genuine interest. Then he points to a nearby stall "For now, though, I seem to recall a certain young lady in need of new raiment? That place looks promising."
Troth sees Grondar walking towards the tobacco stand “hey Grondar! Buy me some 20s in tobacco!” hoping Grondar heard him he turns to Colmarr, Naomi, Malachi and Braer. “hmrf” “hey mister” he talks to the tailor. “Can you sell me a piece of cotton cloth? In a white color?, I'm want to make a friend a turban with it. Double layer please”
He looks at Noonchuck standing some feet from him “hungry he?, I'm sure the tavern got some decent food or did he just sell Grog?” “we sure find out in time” ... “i think i see a food stand on the way to the Library” “we can make a quick stop there on our way” he points yonder
He adjust his own turban over the ears and around the neck “when we are done here we can go to the library”... “I'm not buying any dagger after all, i must save some money“ he places his rapier at his back and looks around, he didn't like this city at all, and keept looking around after the merchants men.
“Thanks Magyar,” Colmarr says, walking to the stall he points at, “I always find things set a little high in human communities, even though I’m very tall for a gnome.”
“Excuse me, do you have any garments that would fit people of our stature,” Colmarr asks of the stall proprietor, indicating Naomi and himself.
The group leaves the Sleeping Sailor and heads west, up and into Tortila. It is early evening; sunset is only a few hours away. When they reach the market, several shopkeepers have already packed up, especially the farmers and produce sellers from outside the city. The square which they enter actually has six or eight streets headed off in different directions, and a large, though worn, fountain stands in the center. For food, a man with a stall and a few cold meat pies is ready to sell them at a bargain, as well as jerky and sausage and salted pork. Nearby, the "hot corn on a stick" man is just packing up. A man selling clay pots sits by the fountain, smiling, his wares proudly displayed. On the other side of the square, a young woman is loading up a push-cart with unsold berries. Unseen at first, another man sits on the other side of the fountain, leaning against it.
Around the edges of the square are different storefronts. Signs can be seen proclaiming tailor, seamstress, and dressmakers, a cobbler, and a milliner. That would seem to indicate that this is the clothing section of the market. A stall is set up outside of one seamstress's shop where bolts of thick cloth are displayed. The proprietess, a stout woman of average height wearing a seamstress's apron and with a measuring cord around her neck, stands in the doorway fanning herself and watching the crowd disperse from the square.
Grondar buys corn-on-a-stick from the vendor*, though it's not all that hot now, and heads for the tailor to see about getting a winter coat. Later, he can likely find a tobbaconist in a square to the south. Troth follows Grondar into the tailor's shop.
Previously...
Why?
Now...
"Eeek! Oh, bless meh, yah nare gave meh thah hahrt attahck, yeh did. Now, arhen't yew thah wee fellow. Ahnd whoo's thes bonnie lahss, eh?" The woman says all this with a twinkle in her eye and a smile on her lips. "Ah, yah're sew dahrlin', Ah'm shar Ah kehn fahnd sohmthin' fahr yah. Cahm alohng weth mee, thhen." Turning, she enters her shop, beckoning them to follow.
Previously...
“My, aren’t you full of questions onia...well that has to do with how children are created. You see if a man and woman didn’t feel desire and pleasure when they joined to conceive a child, there would be little encouragement for them to do so, thus there would be fewer children born.”
Now...
Following the woman into the shop, Colmarr introduces them. "Well this pretty little lady here is my sister Lissa, and I am Colmarr, pleased to make your acquaintance miss..." he says, leaving the question of her name hanging.
Noonchuck follows along with the group. Following Grondor's lead, he'll try the corn on a stick and also try to buy some of the berries. Then, he'll go with the group into the clothing store, although he has little need for clothes himself.
One cold eat pie and batch of berries later, Denther is feeling much more settled and much less queasy. "You would think that so much time spent at sea you'd get used to it..." Wandering around after the others, Denther spies the onlooker at the fountain. "Mag, Colmar, there's someone on the other side of the fountain keeping an eye on us. I thought I should mention it."
Mag nods acknowledgement to Denther, though he avoids looking lest the watcher realize he's watched. Instead, he follows the two gnomes into the dress shop. He stifles a laugh as Colmarr verges into discussions on conception, but decides it best to stay out of the curious Naomi-Lissa's line of questions. If nothing else, Colmarr certainly seems difficult to stump.
Mag watches the choosing and fitting with polite interest, offering up his opinion when solicited, but otherwise merely observing ... and keeping an eye on the front door should Denther signal that there's trouble from their new friend by the water.
Previously...
Naomi screws up her brow as if concentrating. "What does a woman dancing around shaking her hips have to do with getting pregnant? I'm pretty sure you can't get pregnant unless you do . . . other things."
Well at least I don’t have to explain everything, Colmarr thinks, upon hearing Naomi’s latest thoughts.
“True onia, the dancing though can be something that leads a man to think and feel that he wants or needs to do the...other things. Of course some people are just happy watching and admiring a pretty woman as she dances too.”
"Do you like watching pretty women, oni?" Naomi's voice is no longer high and light, but has grown softer, more probing, more intimate.
“Yes onia, a pretty woman is always pleasant to look upon...why do you ask?” Colmarr inquires, noting the difference in Naomi’s voice.
"Does it make you want to do the other things, oni?"
“Sometimes perhaps...though it would depend on the woman onia.”
"Do you think I'm pretty, oni?"
“Yes onia, you are a pretty girl...though at your age most would call you cute.”
"Most have called me cute. Would you like looking upon me, oni?"
“That is a strange question onia, as it is not right to look upon children in such a way. Do you have something to tell me about yourself that would change my perspective about your status?” Colmarr asks quietly so no one else can hear, his suspicions growing with the recent questions on top of earlier events.
Earlier...
"What do you mean, oni? Why can you look upon other women and not upon me? I can dance. I've done it lots of times."
Now...
"Ah, blehss yah, yeyh've goht mahnair's, tew. Wahl, Ah'm Missuz Blangle, playzed tah maiht yew. Nahw, ahz fehr gharmehts, whell, Ah thank Ah mahght have suhem ehn chald's clothes, efhen yew dahn't mihnd. A puherty lhittel dress fhur tha laydee, ahn mayhap ha soot fher tha yew?" She raises her eyebrows in question.
Earlier...
“Well that is the thing onia, we are speaking about women and girls...now to my understanding you’re a girl...a child. I don’t think it’s appropriate for a girl to do the type of dancing that would make men think about the other things...nor do I think that it is appropriate to watch it if they were to do it. Of course if it is another type of dancing, well I would be happy to watch...what sort of dancing do you do onia?”
Now...
“Thank you Missus Blangle, a pleasure to meet you too. Well I’d prefer an adult style of clothes, but I imagine they may be hard to come by ready-made...we’ll definitely take a look at what you have though and see if they’ll work. If not well we might have to get something made...how long would that take?” Colmarr asks, flashing his most winning smile.
"Well, Colmarr, fashion does seem to be a slave to youth. Perhaps younger is better," Mag says with a wink and a mischievous smile.
“Well I don’t know about fashion being a slave to youth Magyar, but it’s definitely a slave to those with money. I’m sure you’ve seen some of the bizarre things that become fashion after the wealthy wear it a time or two...” Colmarr rejoins with a grin, as they examine the clothes on offer.
Earlier...
"I do all sorts of dancing, oni, whatever you want. I was trained. But I don't think I understand you very well. Are you saying I'm bad when I dance and make people want to do stuff?" Naomi's voice takes on a quality that is rather frightened and tearful.
Now...
"Ah, wheel, ihtaihn't laihk Hi gaughts hani hother cuhstum these daize. Iffen hyew dohn't fahnd suhmthin' hyew laihk, Hi rhaikon Hi khain phut tahgether suhmthin within tha nhaixt wheek hor so."
"Oh, hyew wholdn't bhelheeve who whas hin mhai shop jhust lhast whake! Why, hittwas tha Bharroness Redrook hairself! Now thar's ha Lhady whith han heye fhor fhashion! Twas hin bhuyin' fhar hair gharls, she whas."
A quick tour of the shop reveals a wide assortment of pretty clothes for young girls, and a few smart outfits for boys. Colmarr sees very little that would befit a gnome of his station, although there are some everyday work clothes available which would allow him to better blend into human society. Naomi darts here and there among the pretty clothes, many constructed in quite elaborate fashion compared to the pink dress she is currently wearing. There are pinafores and frocks and feastday dresses in pinks and light blues, greens, reds, and pale yellows. There are also a few dresses more suited to the house or garden, in earthy tones to match. After her initial exuberance, Naomi homes in on a pink pinafore with white smoking, not dissimilar to what she is currently wearing, though more elaborate and of warmer material.
"I like this one, oni," she says with a big smile.
As Naomi-Lissa darts about, Mag homes in on the proprietor. "Even with business slow, nobility in the shop must have been quite a bump. How many daughters does the Baronness have, anyway?" he queries politely.
When Naomi picks her dress, Mag says, "I do think pink is Lissa's signature color," adding a gentle smile to show he's not teasing.
Earlier...
“No onia, you’re not bad, I just don’t think that a young girl should be forced to dance like that. How old are you anyway?” Colmarr asks, after clarifying his previous thoughts.
Now...
“Well that’s very kind of you, but I don’t know that we’ll be here a week...I’m sure we’ll find something though, as you do seem to have quite a variety,” Colmarr replies continuing to smile, before he looks for clothes that might fit him.
“Yes, that looks lovely onia,” Colmar replies with a grin, “Why don’t you go find another dress as well, I’m sure you saw more than one you like...though perhaps in a different colour, after all we don’t want all your gowns to look the same.”
Colmarr gathers a set of the simpler work clothes for himself, in earth tones, as at least he can wear them aboard ship, keeping his entertaining clothes for more appropriate events.
“You could be right Magyar, though most other colours flatter her as well,” he says loudly enough for Naomi to hear, hopefully reinforcing his previous statement.
OOC: It’d be pretty hard for him to blend in with his beard, no matter what he wears.
Earlier...
"How old do you want me to be?" The child's voice has taken on a coquettish quality, but during the following speech it slowly reverts to the shy, withdrawn voice Naomi uses sometimes.
"Anyway, I like dancing. Most of the time."
"Oni, why is it bad for girls to make people think stuff when they dance but not for women? I mean, what if you're not trying to make people think stuff, you just dance like you're taught and sometimes people think stuff, but you don't mean for them to, you just like to dance, but sometimes they make you dance for bad people, and then they...they..." Near the end, Naomi begins to break down, but she stoically holds back her sobs, though she stops speaking.
“I’d like for you to be whatever age you are onia,” Colmarr replies comfortingly, his worst fears realised as he listens to the rest.
Holding Naomi gently as they walk, he speaks soothingly as he explains, “Well the difference onia, is that a woman should hopefully understand all the implications of their dancing and be prepared for whatever situation may arise from it. It has nothing to do with the dancing being bad on its own, just understanding and wanting to do it...I would feel the same way if a woman was forced to dance and do things against her will.”
“You did nothing wrong though onia,” Colmarr asserts quietly, but forcefully, “The people you were with just weren’t nice people!”
“Dancing is good though, and I like to dance too...though I’m not very good at it,” he says with a smile.
"Ok, oni," Naomi says, wiping her tears away. She proceeds the rest of the way to the market in silence.
At the seamstress's shop . . .
"Oh, he he hee!" the woman cackles. "Tha Bharonhess h'ain't nhobhilhity! He hee! Though dhon't lhet hair cahaitch hyew sayhin' hit! She howns thrhee ho' tha bhigghest Rhed Paharlours hin Tortuhilha! He he he! Hair gharls his fhamousse!"
Naomi's eyes light up. "Really, oni? I can have more than one?" Naomi darts away to look for another dress.
"Ohct! Puhaink, puhaink, puhaink, thait's hall they suhaim tay whant fhair they lhittel whons thaze dhaze. Tha Bharronhesse bhought thrae drhases hain puhaink. Shae lhaift suhaiverhal vhairhee lhuvlhee drhases hain blhue thait Hi thaink whould fhit lhittel Lhissah jhust puhairfaikt!"
"I like this one, oni!" Naomi says, holding up a light blue and white dress of similar cut to the first. It has layered frills around the hemline and is meant to be worn over thick layers of petticoats.
"Oh!" Mag says, blushing slightly. "I didn't realize ..." he trails off and regains his composure, replacing his charm as he returns, "Well, still, an important person about town, one supposes, which has to be something of a boon to a business."
Mag frowns at this revelation, and as Lissa darts about looking for dresses, he moves closer to the seamstress and lowers his voice considerably so that Lissa can't hear it. He keeps his tone one of general curiosity, downplaying his own dread of what he suspects the response might be.
"As I seem to be misinterpreting many things today, perhaps you could enlighten me, then? When you say the Baroness's 'girls,' is that a euphemism, or does this woman actually rent children for men's use?"
“Yes, that looks nice too onia! Well I think that will do us for today Missus Blangle...so what do we owe you for your fine creations?” Colmarr asks, oblivious to the fact the dress is meant to be worn over layers of petticoats.
"Ahm, ehck, whell..."
The proprietess looks stricken for a moment as if she realizes she may have said more than she should to these strangers in her shop.
Missus Blangle heaves a visible sigh of relief at Colmarr's interruption and quickly slides away from Magyar. "Hyew fhound shumthin hyew lhike, hey? Ho, hyes, theym's nhice..." The woman gives a nervous glance over her shoulder as if just remembering Magyar. Greed wars with prudence on her face before she turns quickly back to Colmarr with a great sigh, defeat evident in every line of her generous bulk as prudence wins out. A moment later, though, her smile is back, and she clasps her hands together. "Ah, hyewhall'll lhook suho luhuverlhee hin those, Hai cahouldint tahake mhore than ha ghold fhor tha lhot. Bhut Hai'm clhosing hup, nhaow, suho hyew'll have ta hahrry hup. Hiffhen hyew lhike, hyew jhust lhet mhe knhow whar hyawll're stahayin, han Hai'll have these delhivhaired tew hyew brhait hain hairly tahmharra mharnin."
The door to the shop bangs open and Braer enters, glancing around for Colmarr. He quickly spies his two shipmates and the little girl talking to the shopkeeper.
"Haim sahoree, saher, Haim cuhlhozed," the shopkeeper says as Braer walks over.
Colmarr digs out a gold coin, and holds it up for the woman, “There you go Missus Blangle, and a bargain too I must say. We’ll take the clothes with us, and if it‘s not too much trouble for you, could you wrap them so we can carry them more easily*.” Turning as Braer enters the shop, Colmarr looks at him and nods toward the door, indicating they’ll be out in a moment. Once the method of carrying the items is sorted out, Colmarr bows slightly, and says, “Thank you for your time Missus Blangle, it’s been a pleasure,” before leaving the shop.
Once outside the shop he heads over to the meat pie seller and purchases two cold pies, handing one to Naomi, before accepting the second. He then hurries over to the cobbler’s shop, as quickly as their burdens will allow with Naomi in tow...if it’s still open.
OOC:: *If the seamstress doesn’t wish to wrap, tie, or bag the clothes, Colmarr will just take them as they are, folding the garments over one arm.
Magyar raises an eyebrow at what he gleans from the seamstress's silence, but says no more. As they go to exit the shop, he moves to help Colmarr with the bundles, hanging close to the gnome.
Once they've re-entered the square, Mag looks about nervously, whispering to Colmarr, "I know the boys have themselves an evening planned, but we might want to head back early. I may have inadvertantly drawn a bit too much attention to us. Seems Lissa isn't the only girl in ... her sort of situation. This 'Baronness' seems to specialize in ... youngsters. She may or may not be connected to our new best enemy, and she's apparently got herself some clout in this neighborhood. I'm afraid my queries into that weren't as circumspect as I might have hoped."
“Yes, I heard, but I don’t think the seamstress will tell anyone of her slip. You’re probably right that we should head back early Magyar, though I’d like to hear the song, even if we skip the other entertainment,” Colmarr replies, just as quietly.
Bolstered by the gnome's agreement, Mag's stomach finally reminds him it's empty. He, too, gets a meat pie, eating it greedily, though still looking about to see that any others nearby haven't taken any special interest in the group.
The seamstress quickly bundles the clothes together and ties them with a bit of twine before hurrying the group out of her store with another vague, half-mumbled comment about needing to close up.
Outside, shadows grow long as the sun sets behind the hills. The man selling clay pots has packed his remaining wares into large panniers which he shoulders before heading east. Mery has finished packing up her berries on her pushcart and is preparing to head out as well, to the north west.
Cold meat pies are purchased, and Naomi fairly inhales hers, licking her fingers of the last few crumbs. "Thank you, oni," she says.
Mag is only slightly less energetic eating his own purchase, but not by much. Eating was so much simpler with the troupe, scheduled and done in shifts as it was. Such is the complication of independent living, he decides.
Licking his fingers, Mag notices the darkness looming, and nods back in the direction of the pub they visited earlier.
"I believe we had a song to be enjoying? Perhaps we should track down the others and head for that before it gets too late?"
Colmarr, having only finished half of his pie says, “You’re welcome onia...you can have the rest of this pie too if you’d like,” as they start towards the cobbler’s shop. Stopping as Magyar voices his concern, he remarks, “I suppose you’re right, I guess Lissa will have to wait until tomorrow for her new shoes,” before they move to join the rest of the group.
Malachi smiles, "Well, it took you long enough. I trust the new dresses are perfect, though?" He starts for the tavern, again. "Yes, we'll have some song tonight and shoes in the morning."
“Yes, they’re very nice, and Lissa likes them, which is the most important thing,” Colmarr says, smiling at Naomi. “Though we didn’t take much longer than those that went to the tailors shop, after all when Braer came into the shop we were on our way out. Hmm, was there anything in the taylor's shop in my size by chance?” he asks to the group in general, not sure who went in the tailor’s shop exactly.
"Sorry, I didn't have time to look around. The tailor was trying to shoo my away... he can make anything, he says, though." says Malachi, shrugging.
“So the seamstress said too Malachi, but we may not be here long enough for anything to be made, as she said a week or so,” Colmarr replies with a wry smile.
[Edit -- We lost a large scene involving the Tailor, another interesting character, and Troth, Braer, Grondar, and Malachi. Troth picked up some cloth for a turban for Braer. We also lost the scene involving N'un T'Chauck, Wakil, and Malachi with Mery the berry seller. A few berries and a little flirting were exchanged. We also lost a short scene involving a begger, and another scene with the meat pie & meat-on-a-stick sellers where we learn more about bad things going on in town and trouble to the south.]
Mag chuckles mirthlessly. "I certainly enjoy being on land that doesn't sway again," he says as he continues to look around, trying his best not to start at every shadow, "But given the *ahem* 'fun' we've found here, I'd just as soon our time in port were short-lived."
Naomi looks at Colmarr and Magyar accusingly and says in a heartbroken voice, "You're going to leave me?"
"Of course not, Lissa," Mag says quickly, though he founders after saying it, looking to Colmarr, then trying himself to explain. "We promised to keep you safe, and that's exactly what we intend to do. It's just that I think it would be easier to keep you safe somewhere other than here."
Putting on his best show, he continues: "Captain has himself a wonderful ship. And I should think you'd be the envy of everyone if you got to have yourself adventures on the high seas at so young an age."
Caught up in his performance, Mag swings hops up and swings around a nearby lamppost. Standing on its base, he pretends to rock with the waves and survey the sea. He pantomimes drawing a sword and flourishing it as he adds, "Why, you'd be like a ... a swashbuckling princess!"
Naomi giggles and Magyar's antics. "Oh, thank you, Magyar! I'm sure I would like adventure on the high seas very much, but what's a swash and why would I buckle it?"
“Of course not onia,” Colmarr replies, grinning at the show Magyar puts on, as he finds himself having to back up his own words.
Braer chuckles softly as he remembers the days antics. He decides to wait untill later to figure out what the 'fun' with the seamstress was.
"Are you ready, Naomi (*should be Lissa*)? We're going to listening to the singing now."
"Who is Naomi?" Braer asks, and goes to help Magyar immitate swashbuckling.
"Ah, it's a shame." Malachi looks at Lissa, "You look just like my cousin, Lissa. I'm sorry.
"So, ready to go?"
Mag abandons his mimed sword and returns to the group, smiling. "Actually, I think you'd be swashing bucklers, though I could be entirely wrong on that one." Mag leans in to add with an air of confidentiality. "Really, though, I think it's probably best to avoid bucklers and actual fighting either way, though it is exciting to think about, yes?"
Mag claps once, as if calling for an audience's attention, then finishes with, "Now then, let's go hear about some more adventures back at the pub."
"Yes, on to the pub with our bukle swashing" Braer responds as he heads towardss the pub.
Naomi laughs at her friends, then skips around them, her bare feet causing little dust clouds to pop into the air. She shoots a hand out as if to make a grab at the front of Magyar's belt, and does the same to Braer. "Look, I'm buckle swashing!" she giggles. "I bet I can swash more buckles than you!"
Colmarr watches Naomi enjoy herself with her buckle swashing antics, keeping an eye out to see if anyone noticed Malachi’s slip.
"Standing in the middle of the square is not really getting us anywhere. I say we head to wherever we're going."
Well guys, If you had your fun and finished it, I suggest we proceed to the real fun says Grondar and watch as the little girl plays with the buckles. He goes to Colmarr and say in Gnomish I suggest you put the little girl in the ship, the deck's pubs are not a place for a little girl at night. He then turns to the others and says in common I understand that some of you want to hear the ballad on the sunken ship ... or whatever it is about, I for myself, don't want to go back to the "Sleeping Sailor" (where we were earlier) I prefer, as I said before, to go to the "Arrow in the bull" tavern, they have some strong ale, and you can gamble over their, you can find me later across the street at "Margarita's Wenchs" He giggle to himself Got to satisfy my needs. he says and pats on Troth and Nunchuck shoulders while he pass between them and starts walking to the dock area
Braer dodges just out of her reach in the general direction of the square (continuously)
Walks up to the group "So did anybody learn anything of intrest about this place?
“Well Grondar, how about we all go listen to the Ballad of the Jenny, which won’t take all that long, then you and whoever is going with you can drop some of us off at the ship, before you head off to continue your night. Deal?” Colmarr declares more than asks, as they head out of the market district.
“Nothing I didn’t already guess at from earlier events,” Colmarr replies to Wakil, glancing furtively at Naomi as he does so.
Wakil moves up next to Colmarr... "What did you come to conclusion to basesed on early events?" ... he asks keeping his voice down.
“That there seems to be a trade in young girls, a rather vibrant trade if I heard correctly, in the red houses here,” Colmarr replies, pitching his voice so even Wakil strains to hear him, as Naomi plays with Magyar and Braer.
I wonder if that is why the berry girl was nervous about getting home after dark? I have an inclination that maybe two or three of us should track her. She said she dosn't live far from here. If we stay back from her she will not even know we are there since, she turned down direct help, even though she hesitated when she did so. Those that track her can catch up to the rest that do not at the bar. I would also think it prudent for us to stay out of Red Roofed Houses. We wouldn't want to get caught with our pants down in the middle of a hornets nest of our percieved enemy.
I am going to go and get a piece of leather that fits better than this one. Then, go after Mery. spread the word that I need one or two others. We will meet at the gate that she is leaving by... she can't have made it far, not hauling that cart.
“I think you may need to leave your leather for tomorrow Wakil, as the shops all seem to be closing. As for the berry girl, I imagine the streets just aren’t very safe here after dark in small numbers, considering the haste with which we were rushed from the seamstress’ shop. I mean I’ve never seen a shopkeeper who won’t keep their business open for a few more minutes, especially when they have paying customers...” Colmarr reasons, as Wakil is about to depart.
The shops do appear to be closing, though none so hastily as the seamstress' shop.
Naomi chases Braer around the square as the others slowly prepare to head out.
"There was definitely something strange about the girl, and that old man. They seemed afraid of something... I could probably follow her trail, if necessary." Noonchuck volunteers, remembering the berry-girl's smile.
As he gets pated by Grondar Troth looks at him “aye grondar i also want to gamble some and see if i can get me a woman” “but first duties” “escort those who is going to the ship after the ballad thing” “after that we can take our own way”
“I think that a good plan little one” he replies
“noonchuck” “I dont think it to wise to just go out there this late and on our first night here” “at last we should have a effective warning signal or something...” he speaks out to the whole group “any of you got any idea how to have a good warning signal?”
Mag lets Braer lead Lissa around for a moment, catching his breath and the jist of the conversations being bandied about.
"I've got my whistle," Mag offers, lifting it on its string at his neck. "But only the one, so only one group would be able to signal. I've a small bell back on the ship, but--well, the time to get there and back probably isn't worth it if you mean to follow this girl promptly."
"I'm not sure following the girl is really necessary," Malachi starts, "She makes the trip all the time, and she's leaving early so that she won't run into trouble. Why would she be attacked today? What makes today different? Would you follow her to and from her house every day?"
Troth Nods at his statement.
Colmarr glances up at Troth, after being called little one, looking displeased for several seconds before he grins and winks.
Leaving the big folk to their discussion, Colmarr begins to softly hum a happy tune as he watches Naomi at play, nonchalantly looking out for anyone who seems overly interested in the girl or their group.
"Normally no, I would not follow her home; especially every night, but I still am unsure of why the girl hesitated. It should not harm anyone by following her and if something happens we will be there. Either way we shall catch up with you tonight at the bar. It dosn't look like I have time to get my leather yet another thing I will have to do tomorrow. Anyone that wants to come with me lets head out." Wakil turns and begins going the way the Mery left.
"Well, Wakil," Malachi nods, "I've known you a long time, and trust your instincts. If you think something is odd tonight, the Sword of Adonai shall follow the Shield." He catches up with Wakil, "Maybe someone can tell me the story of the Jenny later."
"It is always beneficail to have the Sword and Shield of Adonai togther. Thanks for coming Malachi."
“That shouldn’t be a problem, as I’m sure to sing it at some point later on,” Colmarr replies, as Malachi heads after Wakil.
Wakil and his companions move out after Mery the berry vendor. They move quickly and quietly. It is dusk, a time when shadows trick the eye and what you see may be different than what is.
The gates to the city stand open, and there is a steady stream of people mostly coming in, although a few are headed out. The majority look to either be coming in from the fields or headed out after a day of vending in the marketplace. Once out of the gates and into the countryside, Wakil & company can move quickly, and they haven't gone far before they see young Mery hauling her cart. The country rolls gently here, trending up hill. It isn't long before they have crested several rises and the city is lost to view. Not long after that, the road appears empty. It passes out from the fields surrounding the city and enters under the skeletal branches of winter trees just coming in to their spring foliage. Night falls quickly, and the last rays of daylight give way to twisting shadows.
Up ahead, Mery takes a right off the main road onto a track that leads back into the forest. Underbrush is scarce here, but a low hedge, about chest high, lines the path, and it meanders with the topography of the land.
Meanwhile, the rest of the crew heads back down toward the docks, seeking the Sleeping Sailor. Naomi skips ahead, kicking up little clouds of dust with eash step. The seedy underbelly of Tortila, curiously absent during the day, is much more in evidence as the leaden sun's last rays disappear behind the tree-topped hills, plunging the streets into gray. Day laborers, sailors, junior craftsmen, and even a few lesser merchants wander the dim avenues. There are no lamp posts here, but light, warm and inviting, pours out from the windows and doors of taverns and other buildings. Raucous noise with a bit of an edge to it spills into the streets. It seems that, while those who are able have left the city, folks who make their living one day at a time can't afford to leave their livelihood, so they stay and live as they have always lived: one day--and night--at a time.
OOC: I really want to get moving, especially after the down time over the weekend, so until I hear otherwise I will assume that Magyar is headed to the tavern and N'un T'Chauck is headed after Mery. I will intentionally keep the posts vague in order to slip them in whereever they like once they chime in, and I will edit if needed.
Colmarr tries to keep up with Naomi, only letting her get two or three steps ahead, as he doesn’t want her too far out of reach with the darker side of the city starting to waken...humming a walking song as they move towards the docks.
Everyone's step feels lighter and springier as they move toward the docks.
OOC: OotS reference to the bard singing.
Troth walks at the end of the group scaning the shady corners as they pass by. He stays alert to any trouble.
Mag feels an odd sense of relief and dread as the sun begins to fall. His troupe's performances were always in the evening, with the benefit of torchlight to add atmosphere and mask their trickery all together. Dusk has always brought back the slight thrill of upcoming performance, then. But knowing their current circumstances, the other people darkness might be aiding gives the former magician a slight queasiness.
Keeping in mind the shorter stride of his gnomish companion and the small girl, Mag does his best to pick up the pace and get to the relative safety of the indoors and a tale of adventure.
Presently, the crew reaches the Sleeping Sailor. There are a number of men here moving up and down the street, some ducking into alleys, others merging into the flow. Music and noise spill forth from the open door of the Sleeping Sailor. There seem to be fewer taverns on the street than can account for the large number of pedestrians.
Naomi skips up to the door and peers in before shrinking back against Colmarr. Inside the tavern, men are guzzling grog and cat-calling at a woman onstage who is singing a song and dancing. A man on a stool next to her is playing some sort of small, multi-stringed instrument in his hands, and another man thumps time on a hand drum. The woman is tall, with brassy red hair and pale skin. She wears a short little red dress that ends just above the knee, fluffed out by white petticoats. Her bodice is cut to display a generous amount of pale, rounded bossom. The ties seem to have come loose and are slowly unlacing themselves. As the crew enters, her song has just ended to roars of approval and calls for more. Barmaids with permanent smiles plastered on their faces scurry among the crowds of men in their short, fluffy skirts and tight shirts, refilling drinks and receiving a frequent pinch or slap on the rump for their effort.
The patrons of the Sleeping Sailor do not appear to be carrying weapons, though most belts show a dagger or utility knife of some kind. Though the room appears quite crowded at first, there are seats available near the bar and a few tables near the door, distant from the stage and the entertainment.
As our heroes make their way to the bar or to find seats, a new song begins with sensual gyrations and throaty insinuations from the woman on stage.
There are so many mighty pines
Thrusting up from the frosty, wooded hills;
Who bare needles to prick, as sharp as spines,
And think they can drink where they wills.
On a Springtime morn, by happenstance,
While chill dew lay thick in the air,
I skipped by in my flitting dance,
Fey flow'rettes adorning my hair.
But, hah, I carried axe to down
You! Poor old aging lodgepole pine;
A blade to strip and clip your crown,
And take what I wanted as mine!
But don't worry; I'll bring you to my home,
Though you feel so utterly wrecked,
Then I'll let down my hair and with gentle arom',
Quickly bring you back tow'ring erect.
I'll twine your pole in ribbon faire,
I'll dance about your upthrust shaft;
You, my May Pole, arisen bare
Delight me in my song and laugh.
I'll show you, when you're close enough,
Your steady, strong, and sturdy will;
And when May-Day dance we with clothes off,
Come near, my fertile land we'll till.
As she sings, she tosses her skirts in a way that reveals layered petticoats and a touch of something more. Near the end of the song, the ties come loose on her bodice, and only a deft grab saves her from -- well, something that probably costs extra. The song finishes to loud hoots and hollars. Men bang the benches and tables, and call for more grog.
OOC: "The Saga of the Mighty Pine", adapted. Originally composed by me.
Colmarr tries to keep Naomi from hearing the rather bawdy lyrics, by casting a lullaby spell on her, before placing his hands over her ears and shielding her from the stage though he finds he can’t manage to block her view of some of the patrons with the barmaids, as he just doesn’t have enough hands. While he keeps Naomi out of harms way he asks his companions, “Can one of you ask the barkeep if we have missed the Ballad of the Jenny? As if we have, I see no point in us staying right now as Lissa doesn’t need to see this...”
Troth is fascinated by the woman whit the pale skin and red dress that sings giving her “the look” now and then in hope to catch her attention. He look at her intensely only distracted by the barmaids in their thigh outfit and one or other customer that is giving the singer the same look as he is, looking at them grining and showing thees at them. He hold the nod of his rapier that is at his belt now hidden under his cloack..
Between one of the songs he bends down to Colmarr's head level “you wanna take her to the ship?” “I can escort you there and then we can come back” “you tell me when you are ready to go Colmarr”
Standing near Troth, Grondar sees the Barbarian's look at the girl and laugh loudly. Oh.. Dear friend he says with a smile This place is "weak" if you compare it to the "Arrow in the bull" tavern, the beer is more tasty and the women is more ... He scratch his forehead and tries to find the proper word .. Huh ... agile and flex, yes that's the word. He grabs one of the barmaids in the wrist Say, pretty lady, have we missed the Ballad of the Jenny?
Mag, distracted by trying to help Colmarr obstruct Lissa's view, doesn't notice Grondor's tactic until it's already happened. He opens his mouth to object to the rough treatment of the wait staff, then bites back on the sentiment. Best to keep the thug on his good side, he thinks, and goes back to trying to take Lissa's attention off of the bar's current entertainment.
Braer stands inbetween Lissa and most of the room, obstructing her view as much as possible while shaking his head at the song.
"Hey, I can't see what's going on!" Naomi struggles in Colmarr's arms. "Mag, Braer, I'm little here!" Before long, though, Colmarr's lullaby has the desired effect, and the girl calms down, snuggling back against the gnome.
Those nearby begin to fall under Colmarr's spell as well, zoning out a bit. One man at another table, already deep in his drink, falls forward and begins snoring softly. Grondar, Magyar, and Denther, too, become drowsy and inattentive. Troth is simply too intent on watching the show to let himself be distracted, while Braer remains very concious of the young Naomi and the need to shield her from the show.
"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about, sir, but perhaps the bard will play that song if you ask him," she replies, deftly slipping from his suddenly relaxed grip.
“Well I guess we needn’t bother to stay then, as I doubt the other patrons would be happy with our choice. Let’s get our group outside Braer, Troth, and you can take us back to the ship,” Colmarr says shuffling Naomi outside, before he dismisses the spell.
Mag, his tongue feeling heavy and his thoughts slow, simply nods at the gnome's suggestion. "I think I could use some fresh air to clear my head, in any case," he offers as he moves to the exit.
"But the waitress didn't say we missed it, only that she didn't know what we're talking about. I'll talk to the barkeep himself before we leave. It would be a shame to come all the way over here and to miss the song, would it not." Braer pauses to make sure they have everything under control, and then moves off to find the barkeep from earlier.
As the woman finishes her song, the drummer stands and moves to the front of the stage. He is a large, burly man with thick arms and fingers like sausages. His head is bald, but a black beard wraps around his chin leaving his upper lip bare. His voice, loud and rough, projects over the noise of the tavern.
"Thank you, thank you, Maggie is done for the evening. She will be available for private shows until dawn at the Panting Dog." The man steps down off the stage, helping Maggie after him. Her slim hands hold his arm as they exit the Sleeping Sailor. Immediately, more than a few of the men get up and follow the pair out, talking and laughing and jeering each other. Shortly, the room has emptied of about a third of its former occupants, and there is room to breathe and spread out. The tables nearest the stage are almost completely cleared out, but they are a mess of spilled drinks and vomit.
On stage, the man with the stringed instrument has stayed behind. He sits on his stool, tuning the device, and ostensibly paying no attention whatsoever to the patrons of the tavern. He is a clean-cut fellow with a short, black goatee and sensible clothes. There is a look of softness about him that is out of place in this rough wharfwater pub.
Hearing the announcement right after Braer speaks. “Yes, you do that Braer, we’ll just keep ourselves out of the way while this lot clears out,” Colmarr replies, not quite having made it outside yet with Naomi, he moves them out of the way so that those leaving have a clear path to the door. Dismissing the spell as soon as the dancer and her entourage begin to exit the building.
Denther sits at the table in the tavern and quietly watches the dancing and randy lyrics of the song. The lulaby spell blocks out most of the lyrics but can't block out what se sees. At the point of the ties coming loose, he almost stands but, since she is able to recover, he sits back down.
After everyone clears out he will move closer to the stage, more than willing to move cups and mugs to be closer to the bard.
Mag makes his way through the thinning crowd, moving to the stage and putting on a look of comraderie for the performer. When he's close enough, he politely interrupts the bard.
"I'm terribly sorry, but is it too early for requests? My friends and I hear 'The Ballad of Jenny' is quite a number."
The musician remains concentrated on his instrument, but a small smile curves his lips. "Aye, I'm sure it is." He cocks his head to one side, strumming an experimental chord and adjusting a tuning peg slightly. "'Tis said t'will be a mighty ballad, that of the Jenny. Which, I'm sure, is mighty valid, and known to many. Poets and heroes by the score have been thouroughly bitten, by a strange and curious lore that has yet to be written." He smiles and strums another chord, and his voice takes on an oratory sound. "But come, sit, listen close, and I'll tell you all a tale," strum ", of a poor young man who loved to sail." Strum. "He loved the sea, and he loved his life," major chord, "And at twenty-one years, he took a wife." He begins to strum chords, launching into a full voiced chorus.
"Jenny: his joy upon the sea;
For Jenny alone he lived and breathed.
His wife passed on from this ol' world
And left for him a baby girl."
The music turns soft, and his fingers pick out a lilting melody during the following verses, dropping back to grand chords during the chorus.
"She grew up quick and she grew up tall;
She learned to swim before she could crawl.
He taught her to sail upon the blue water,
And together they lived, loving father and daughter.
Jenny: his joy upon the sea
For Jenny alone he lived and breathed.
She was his joy and every pride.
He lived for her; he would have died.
In her eighth year they together set sail
When the demons of Hell sent a furious gale;
They rode the wind as for weeks it railed,
But in the end all efforts failed.
Jenny: his joy stole by the sea;
Jenny: washed away with his pride;
Jenny: for her he'd lived and breathed;
Jenny, his only daughter, had died."
Here, the melody turns soft and sad, and the bard seems lost to the music. The instrumental continues for a mintute or two before picking back up.
"The morning after he found her beached
Face down in the sand, the life from her leached.
He swore then together forever would be
Father and daughter upon the sea."
The ballad suddenly switches to a minor key, becoming quite eerie.
"Over her body he swore a vow
To shape with his own hands a new prow.
He cut down timbers to lay the spars,
And then one night beneath the cold stars
He built her bones into the boat
That she would always be afloat.
Within the bluff bow of the hull
He embedded her sightless skull,
And with her blood he inked red letters
To create strong Earth bound fetters
To anchor the soul of his innocent daughter
Forever with him upon the blue water."
The melody changes again, to sound like a shadow of its former self; but only a shadow.
"Jenny: his pride upon the sea
For Jenny alone he lived and breathed
On her deck he smiled again,
His pain absorbed by sun and wind.
Father and daughter again did ride
'Pon cresting wave and waning tide,
Traversing the globe both far and wide
He lived for her; he would have died—
But for Jenny, his ship upon the sea.
When he ran her on a reef
She held him close within her lee,
The only place with air to breathe.
He made it back to land alone;
Jenny was covered o'er by the foam.
For years he wept most bitterly
For his world, flooded by the sea.
Come, listen close and I'll tell you a tale
Of a poor old man who'd loved to sail.
He'd loved the sea and he'd loved his life
Til the ocean stole his daughter and wife.
And then it sunk his ship and sail—
But Jenny's story is another tale..."
They are lucky they don't hear this boring tales. I wonder what they are doing. Say Grondar to himself as he think about Malachi, Wakil and Nun'Tchuck. The big thug lean on the wall next to the door, waiting patiently for his friends to leave and for him to go drink, gamble and have more intimate joy
Meanwhile, back at the Sleeping Sailor...
Though the bard's performance is excellently executed, some members of the audience are less than impressed.
"Boo! That songs sucked!" one man sitting next to Denther shouts, standing and throwing his drink at the bard. The musician merely leans over his instrument, casually letting the drink fly over his head, and begins picking out a quick jig.
"Hey, I liked it!" another man one table over says, standing and pushing back his bench. "It's a classic sea shanty, and you'd know that if you were a real sailor in stead of some wharf-rat scum!"
A man in the back jumps to his feet. "Wharf rat scum, huh!? At least we know how to take care of our families and our city, 'stead of runnin' away like some yellow-bellied sailor!"
At that, men are leaping up all over the bar, hurling curses and insults, and punches are thrown. The man next to Denther grabs the ranger's drink and hurls it at the second man, who blocks with his arm in a spray of grog, then charges over and tackles the man. They crash into Denther, and all three end up in a pile on the floor.
The musician's fingers are flying over the strings in a blazing score to fit the mayhem of the tavern, and he smiles smugly to himself.
Just about ready to walk over to the bard to congratulate him on his wonderful telling, Colmarr ducks back as the fight breaks out to protect Naomi. Seeing the man’s smug smile as he plays a frenetic melody which mirrors the feel of the room spurring on the combatants, Colmarr raises his voice in song...a peaceful song about fields and woodlands. Directly contrary to the current mood suffusing the establishment, in an attempt to calm the fighting.
Braer attempts to stay away from the fray as much as possible and help get everyone out before the fight gets out of hand, if he does move near the fray (or if it encompases the entire tavern) he makes sure not to touch anyone.
Denther! Shouts the Thug, finally there is some excitement in this pathetic place. He thinks, takes out his sap and jump into the quarrel, trying to free Denther, Grondar Will punch in the head those who are on top of the ranger.
Denther sits, rapt attention to the ballad of Jenny, quietly weeping at the death of the daughter. After the ballad has ended, and man next to him disparages the tale, he starts to say something but is suddenly landed upon by two men. >WHUF< 'fush. I do not need to be at the bottom of this pile.' Denther begins climbing out of the pile, puching, kicking, elbowing, anything to make his way out.
As the fuzz starts Troth not seeing any weapon been drawn, he folds his shirt up to his elbow showing theets and two fists to those that are near Colmarr “Hey Grondar!” “having fun?!”
Mag grimaces as the small fight breaks out. He turns back to the bard to add dryly "You certainly know how to get a crowd going, don't you?" He flips a silver onto the stage, nodding his thanks, then moves to help Colmarr shield Naomi and let the bigger men help Denther out from under his new friends.
The Sleeping Sailor is quickly embroiled in a huge, old fashioned bar fight.
Braer immediately dodges a blow and moves to the edge of the tavern, where there is little fighting. Occasionally, someone will be thrown from the melee and slam into the wall, to either get up and wade back in or slump in a lifeless heap.
Colmarr begins singing a peaceful, calming tune. For his trouble, the quick little gnome receives a random fist in the chops that sends him sprawling. Seems like everybody's a critic. Naomi rushes forward, beating at the man who hit Colmarr and kicking him in the shins with her bare feet. The man curses at the little annoyance, taking a swipe at the girl. The swing goes wild.
The nameless bard has ceased playing. He smiles at Magyar and scoops up the silver with a nod, replying, "The high strung emotions of the unwashed masses leads to this conduct of braying jackasses." He then exits the stage, gliding along the wall toward the back of the bar.
Troth and Magyar both single out Colmarr and Naomi, and move to the rescue. Both react with lightning speed, but Magyar gets there first, dodging blows and taking a hurt when a man rolls into his leg and twists his knee. Troth dodges several blows along the way, but takes a punch in the side and a nasty smack to the temple that has him seeing spots for a moment. Magyar reaches Naomi's attacker just as the ruffian reaches for the girl. The ex-performer grabs the man's hand and drives his fist into the man's midsection, doubling him over. Troth clobbers the man from behind, grabbing him and throwing him into a nearby table where he collapses with a crash.
Grondar smashes his sap over the skull of one of the two men on top of Denther, while the ranger wriggles out from under them and struggles to his feet. The man Grondar hit collapses in a lifeless heap, blood flowing from a bloody patch on the back of his skull. "Thank you, friend," the other man says, getting up.
"Hey, wharf rat!" someone calls from behind Grondar. He turns just in time to duck under a right hook from an enraged sailor.
Mag winces at his twisted knee, but launches forward anyway, relieved to arrive in time to keep little Lissa from harm. As Troth finishes off the man, Mag gives a quick, scanning look to catch the eyes of Colmarr, Lissa, and Troth, and announces "I think it's time to go, yes?" and makes for the closest exit, doing his best to avoid combatants as they go but keeping an eye out if anyone tries to rush their young charge.
The Adrenalin flows in the veins as Grondar duck from the sailor's right hook. Oh … you son of Baatezu !! Shouts the big Thug, he swings his sap towards the sailor's jaw with all his heart.
Picking himself up off the floor near the wall and rubbing his face, Colmarr nods to Magyar as he grabs Naomi’s hand and leads her out of the tavern by the door they were standing right next to before he was so rudely struck.
OOC: Don’t know where Colmarr went sprawling exactly as he was pretty much up against the outside wall near the door, keeping himself and Naomi out of harms way. :S
Very happy to be out of the pile, "Thanks for dragging me out of that, Grondar." Denther will defend himself but not actively attack while he tries to see where the bard went.
Troth nods at Magyar and follows Colmarr trough the door.
Braer follows the others outside, still avoiding the brawl as much as possible.
Back in town, Grondar's sap smashes into the sailor's jaw with a bone crunching SNAP! The man gargles in pain, falling to his knees and clutching at his ruined face. Another man swings from Grondar's blind side, punching him in the kidney, but the big thug barely feels it through his chain shirt. The man swears in surprise, backing off and shaking his hand in pain.
Denther spies the bard exiting by the back door near the bar. A metal beaker hits Denther in the back of the head, hard, splashing grog all over him.
Troth, Colmarr, and Magyar cluster around Naomi, headed for the door. Before they reach it, two men with their arms locked together crash through the door and begin rolling around in the dust of the street, punching fiercly. From the center of the room there is the crash of splintering wood. Nearby, a fierce looking man with thick arms punches a smaller man in the face, who stumbles backwards into Troth.
Braer moves along the wall toward the group around Naomi, stopping as a man is thrown into the wall in front of him, then stepping over the body.
OOC: I didn't realize that Colmarr was so close to the wall and door. I guess he was knocked into the wall, then? Perhaps he slid along it before falling to the floor, or perhaps he was knocked sideways to the floor.
Colmarr continues to take Naomi out the front door, after the men begin to roll around in the street...not at all amused by their behaviour.
OOC: I’ll just assume he was knocked sideways along the wall, as he moved to protect Naomi (post #723). They (Colmarr and Naomi) were almost out the door, actually they were out the door before the bard started (post #706), but then Braer said he’d inquire about the song so they moved aside to let the dancer leave instead of completely leaving (post #710). Not that Colmarr would have gone far into the room with Naomi, once it was obvious what type of entertainment was on stage, so they would always have been right near the door, just out of the direct doorway.
How Dare you ... you Abyysal creature! Grondar curse the man who tried to punch him in the kidney. he turns around and tries to lower his sap to the man's torso he will then back away to where Colmarr and the others are.
Mag widens his eyes as the men crash through the doors, but has to smile at having the way opened for them. He affords a quick glance to make sure Troth is largely unaffected by the man falling toward him, then feels a faint sense of relief seeing Grondor and his sap moving toward them.
"Denther! Time to beat feet!" Mag calls out as he continues to press for the door, using his experience from the stage to project his voice over the cacophany.
In front of the Sleeping Sailor, the two fighters have disengaged and are on their feet, circling each other.
Inside, Grondar swipes at the man with his sap. The man backs away from the big thug. His eyes flick past Grondar's left shoulder, giving the thug enough warning to dodge to the side. A bar stool swings through the air where he had been standing and smashes against the floor. The man who had swung it curses.
A way is clear to the front door, where the crew waits with Naomi. Will Denther & Grondar head that way, stay and fight, or choose to go after the bard, who has exited out the back?*
The crew members slip out the front door into the street, where the two dueling men have pulled their daggers. They are crouched low, wrists flicking.
"Son of a wharf whore! Your blood shall stain these streets tonight!"
"What would I know of whores, you rutting goat? I don't have to pay a woman to be near me!" The man darts in with his dagger, and when the two break apart again, there is blood in the street. A crowd of rough men and soiled doves have gathered and begun to jeer the fighters on.
"Stick it to th' wharf-rat, mate!"
"Show that boat-slime what a real man is!"
"Lookit th' blood'n sweat! Yeeheehee!"
The calls grow more and more partisan, and the crowd is turning ugly, turning on each other. Old hatreds, fueled by fear and sparked by blood, burst into a conflagration as men begin punching and hitting. Weapons are drawn quickly, and even the women carry knives in their skirts. The streets are alive with blood and fury!
The crew of the Pander Ban attempts to shield Naomi, pressed against the front of the Sleeping Sailor. They move along toward their right, toward the alley which is dark, but clear.
Troth stays with Colmarr and Naomi trying keep them out of trouble as he can, dodgin whatever is been trown at him or persons tumbling at him. "lets get fast to the ship" he says taking Naomi under his arm like a little bag protecting her with his arms.
Just about having his shoulder yanked out of it’s socket as Troth grabs Naomi and tucks her under one arm, Colmarr places his now free hand on the hilt of his dagger as they continue toward the alley, from which they can hopefully retrace their route to the ship. “Yes, let’s get out of here, things are getting very ugly...”
OOC: I must say, the fight outside the Sleeping Sailor has progressed far faster than we have, considering we were on our way outside when the two men apparently dashed past us out the door. I know you’re going for a dramatic scene, and I’m all for that, but believability is starting to get a little stretched for me, as it seems we’ve waited for the worst possible moment to leave the building for apparently no reason (rather than leaving at the earliest opportunity which is what Colmarr was trying to do).
Edit: Not that I'm particularly worried or want a rewrite, but it does seem a bit contrived.
Braer runs after Troth looking back over his shoulder to make sure no one takes too much notice of their progress.
Seeing a clear way to the door, Grondar runs outside Wow… it's getting nastier over here He says as he circles the crowd and the quarrel outside. He tries to spot his friends, if he doesn't see them, he waits for Denther to get out. Sap in hand he readies himself for anything.
Mag cringes at the bloodlust that is apparently both growing and following their little group. As the others move off, Mag follows, drawing his dagger and holding it to either stab or throw as necessary, though hoping he has to do neither. [If/when] he catches sight of Grondor and Denther, he'll do his best to signal them, though he avoids using his whistle. The last thing they need is to draw the attention of the crazed mob.
Troth walks down the alley some feet and puts Naomi down to the ground, he crunches down and whisper to her. "be quiet child" whit a soft voice....
He stand up and turns around to rest "lets wait here for the rest, seems a quiet alley" ... "Grondar is right around the corner and Denther is still inside" he quickly move to the corner and gets Grondar attention "pst! we are waiting at you over here"
"This is a good old fashion fight" " He says in a low voice lending to the wall "Grondar are good whit that sap..." Troth smiles a big smile "i like these fights but when im off duty, ha you should have seen the fight wee had at my former job" "almost the whole port when into a fight about a shipment of beans" "even the marshal couldnt help his soldier getting into the fight whit their bare hands to punch some relative in his face" "hehe" "what a fight..."
Colmarr rubs his shoulder as they stop in the alley, moving over to Naomi as the others look out for their companions. “Are you alright Lissa?” he asks quietly.
Near the Sleeping Sailor, Troth leads the way into the quieter alley off the street. With a tall warehouse on the left and the tavern on the right, the alley is narrow and dark. There are strange smells, and the muddy ground underfoot is wet. This may very well be the tavern's "public outhouse." Troth sets Naomi down in the alley then heads back to the mouth where Magyar waits keeping an eye out for their two companions. Braer moves further into the alley next to Colmarr and Naomi, watching for predators, while Colmarr checks on the little girl's health.
"I...I think so. Why are they so angry, oni?"
Denther extracts himself from the melee in the tavern without further incident and joins Grondar outside the door. They see Magyar waving at them from the alley and Troth calls to them,
They quickly move into the alley as Troth begins to brag about past brawls. The alley dead ends into another narrow back alley that heads east-west along the back of the tavern and warehouse. To the west (right) the alley runs past the back of the tavern. There is a half-empty rain barrel set under the gutter. To the east (left), the alley jukes into the muddy darkness, broken by odd, indistinct shapes and curving to the south. From somewhere in that direction, Denther and Troth can hear the sound of footfalls squelching through the mud, retreating into the distance. Behind them, the noise of the crowd is a dull roar in everyone's ears.
The docks--and the ship--lie somewhere to the southeast.
“Well onia, it seems there is some bad blood between the sailors and the dockworkers, and the fight and slurs have roused everyone to take sides in redressing past hatreds. The fact that one of them drew blood, has probably only spurred them on,” Colmarr explains, while they wait for Denther and Grondar.
“Well I think we’d better go that way...seeing as it’s our only viable path, not leading away from the ship,” Colmarr says, pointing down the west branch of the alley. “Hmm, I guess the bard who helped incite the conflict out there ran down this alley somewhere, seeing as he didn’t come past us...”
Hmmm ... never walked from these alleys before but … we'll manage say Grondar, sap still in hand, he leads the way and navigate through the alleys Now that was a brawl he laugh loudly and raise his sap.
"Any direction that takes us away from that craziness, I'm all for," Mag says. He switches out his dagger for his sling, readying a bullet as he falls to the rear of the group, keeping an eye and an ear out for anyone trying to run up behind them.
As Grondar leads the way, Troth again picks up Naomi from the ground and carries her under his left arm. "take us there Grondar" "as silent as you can" he looks down at Naomi "be quiet Lissa and we soon will be in the safety of the boat" "and there. I want to ask you something, but right now lets hurry" Troth walks as fast he can following Grondar's back.
"Yes let's go I have seen enough of this town for one night."
Braer follows Grondar through the alley, when the others come he will slowly fall behind them if there is room in the alley.
Grondar leads the way down through the dark back alleys. Naomi struggles in Troth's arms.
"I can walk on my own, you know." If Troth refuses to put her down, she pouts, but she does it quietly.
Strange, unwholesome smells thicken the air, and Grondar prays to any deity he can think of that it is mud squishing under his boots.
A dark shape glides overhead, and Magyar jumps, but it is beyond the next rooftop before he can even get his sling up. It was probably just a bird. Or a bat. Or a...Perhaps it's best if he doesn't think about it too carefully.
It has grown strangely quiet. The sound of the riot is a dull roar fading to the left. Up ahead, the back of a wharehouse looms out of the night and the alley takes a sharp turn to the right then almost immediately splits again. One branch heads off to the left (east) where it goes for about a hundred feet before making another left. A faint reddish glow can be seen from that direction. The alley also continues straight ahead (south). Denther can hear the sound of running feet from that direction, the same that he heard earlier. Colmarr also hears the running feet for the first time. Behind the party, there is a clatter in the night, and a cat yowls its displeasure.
Grondar stops for a moment, taking a look at both ways and decides to take the branch to the left (east). (where it goes for about a hundred feet before making another left.) sap in hand he readies himself for attack against anything that might pop out … even a cat. He knows that walking in alleys at night is very dangerous
Mag wills his heart to slow, or at least give up pounding in his eardrums. Whatever was flying overhead--if it was there at all--is gone now.
Behind them, however, might not be so true. Mag, loaded sling ready, doing his best to steady the shaking in his knees, peers back into the gloom. Over his shoulder, toward the other crewmen, he projects a stage whisper:
"Colmarr, your gnome eyes do better in this lighting than mine, don't they? You see anything behind us that might have set off the cat?"
Using his trained voice, Colmarr replies in kind to Magyar, “Yes, I suppose they do. You know, it’s probably just an animal knocking something over, trying to get food...”
Colmarr moves far enough out of line to give himself an unobstructed view behind the group, trying to see if there is anyone or anything creeping up behind them, as Grondar stops to decide their path.
OOC: Listen +6, Spot +1
A fat rat runs along the ground hugging the west wall before disappearing into a pile of refuse.
Magyar lets his breath out at the sight, then whispers ahead. "All right. I've definitely had my fill of suspense and action tonight. Let's beat feet to the ship already." With that, he points in the direction that should take them to the docks and urgest the party to go that way.
Braer tries to maintain constant vigilance while staying with the party
"Keep moving" Troth says seeing that some of the group slows down. He tries to listen if any anyone are persing them in the alley or at the roofs.
Grondar leads the group down the east alley and around the corner to the left. The alley runs directly into a two story building, but there is just enough room on the building's south side for a person to slip through heading east, and room on the west side for a person to slip through heading north.
In the side of the building facing the heroes there is a door. The door appears to be a side door into a tavern; it is open, and it reveals a long bar. A reddish glow spills into the alley.
"Look!" cries Naomi from where she is held in Troth's arms. She has one arm wrapped around his neck and with the other she points to the doorway where all can clearly see a wisp of smoke curling around the upper edge of the doorframe, disappearing into the night.
Over here Grondar signals the others to follow He goes to the door and peeks inside to the tavern, if it's quite he will enter from the backdoor and exit from the main door to the main street, from there, the route to the ship will be more easier. If he sees any trouble inside the bar, Grondar will take passage through the west side of the building where a person can slip through and head north.
As Grondar leads them down the alley and around the corner, away from the ship, Colmarr says, “Where are you taking us Grondar? Wouldn't straight ahead at the last intersection have been more direct, as I think we’re heading away from the ship right at the moment?”
Troth carefully puts a big and weatherbitten hand over Naomis mouth nodding at Grondar as the man peeks inside the room "lets move trough here to the main street Colmarr" "the alleys are never to safe in a port and this port seems more unsafe then other I've been at" "Lissa im going to let you down for now I wont any attention on me carrying you like this trough this place" "someone may miss interpret my actions" for split second Troth seems absent thinking... as fast it came it was gone "Colmarr please watch the girl" he peeks inside the room besides Grondar.
Braer turns back to watch the alley, but stays ready to follow his friends inside.
As Grondar and Troth look to go through the building instead of around it, Colmarr glances down the two alleys leading around the building. “Apparently the main streets in front of tavern’s aren’t too safe either Troth, otherwise we wouldn’t be in an alley in the first place. So why don’t we just slip past the building instead of going inside...wouldn’t one of these alleys lead to the street just as surely, seeing as people must use the door you two are looking through?” he asks, taking Naomi’s hand again now she’s back on the ground.
OOC: Just to note, my previous post has been edited due to Mallak changing where the ship is located (the edit being made at Mallak’s suggestion).
Mag's mouth quirks up as he whispers wryly, "Given what happened the last time we passed through a tavern, we might do best to take our chances single file around the outside." Here he winks to Lissa to let the girl know he's (mostly) joking about the group's ability to find trouble. "Well, Lissa, we did say we'd find you adventure, didn't we?"
He keeps his sling ready for now, though if the group decides to enter the tavern, he'll stow the sling so as not to draw attention.
Troth scratches his head and looks at Grondar back giving him a friendly slap over the back "you hear Grondar? Comarr is quite smart, lets do what he says..." "but i must be honest in say that the alley is giving me the chills" he takes some steps back noding at Colmarr to lead the way taking Naomi under his arm again.
Grondar glances inside the tavern and realizes what the others have not yet seen. It is empty. Troth joins him in looking inside. It appears there were many people in this tavern not too long ago, but they left in quite a hurry. Tables are overturned, dishes are broken, and beer is scattered everywhere. The main entrance door, on the eastern side of the tavern, is closed. Along the opposite wall are stairs leading to a second story. Beneath the stairs, directly across the room from where Grondar and Troth are, is an open door leading to what appears to be a back room. The door is open, and the room glows with a flickering orange light. Smoke pours from the open doorway, curling along the ceiling of the tavern.
Grondar glance back to the other Hey, it's safe and empty, we can pass through here He says in a low tone. Just don't make too much noise while I check what's going on, wait here I'll be right back He enters quietly to the Tavern and goes to see if the closed door is locked
Looking in after Grondar as he enters the tavern, since he has to wait anyway, Colmarr remarks, “I don’t know where all the people went...hopefully they’re not fighting out in the street, but it looks like there’s a fire in that room under the stairs, and that can’t be good.”
Troth moves into the room looking what is set on fire, letting Naomi stay with Colmarr.
Mag shakes his head, all the while looking around for anyone else.
"As close as these buildings are together, if a fire got out of control it could take out a block or more before anyone could stop it," he says, his brow furrowing. "I think we need to put it out if we can, or--" here he grasps the signal whistle hanging from his neck-- "much as we don't want any more attention, I think it best we call for help if we can't stop this thing ourselves."
Turning to look at Maygar as he speaks, Colmarr keeps casting quick glances over his shoulder into the room throughout. “Well I think yelling fire might draw the right kind of attention and help, probably faster than your whistle too...though people might come to see what the racket was if you blew it, I don’t think they’d bring buckets, water, or anything else helpful. It's a good idea though, if we can't get anyone's attention by more conventional means,” Colmarr responds, before returning is gaze to the tavern, looking for anything to put out a fire with.
Braer turns back around and says, "We should see how bad it is first, some fires have more smoke than others."
Grondar will peek into the room with the smoke while he goes to check if the front door of the tavern is locked
Even if he sees fire or anyone hurt, he will not stop. "It's not my buisness" moto guides him.
“Yes, that’s what’s Troth is doing, I hope...we won’t make a racket unless we need to,” Colmarr says, his gaze not leaving the interior of the tavern as he speaks.
Mag lets his whistle drop back into place, nodding. He waits quietly, though his face portrays the worry he's feeling, not only about the alley and the night, but now about the fire, as well.
Grondar steps carefully through the wreckage of the tavern, around overturned chairs and tables and across rivulets of wetness.
Troth moves into the tavern, past the long bar, toward the room under the stairs from which smoke pours steadily. There is a large mirror behind the bar which has been broken. Large spiderweb cracks radiate out from the left side. As Troth approaches the burning room, heat washes over him in waves. He pokes his head in under the smoke to take a look around. This seems to have been a storage room and also a meeting room. Large oak casks, no doubt full of local grog, line the wall on the left, and a wine rack once stood on the right. The rack is now toppled, the bottles shattered all over the floor. Flames dance on the wine soaked floorboards. A shattered lamp lies nearby, the apparent cause of the fire. In the middle of the room is a square wooden table with chairs on four sides. One chair is lying on its side, broken. Silver and gold coins are scattered across the table, sparkling in the firelight. Near the broken chair, as if he fell there, a large man lies face down.
Colmarr holds Naomi's hand, peering into the tavern, while Magyar watches the alleys to both sides. Braer and Denther cover the rear.
Grondar reaches the front door of the tavern after a quick glance into the burning room. As he reaches it, the door seems to open of its own accord. A strange sight greets his eyes, and it takes a moment for the scene to process. In the light of the streetlamps, a long line of people stretches away from the door, down the street toward the docks, and around a corner. At the same moment he is realizing that this must be a bucket brigade, the man at the front of the line is throwing his arms forward with a startled look on his face. Too late, Grondar realizes the man is holding a bucket, and the bucket is holding water. A cascade of cold, salty sea water hits Grondar square in the chest. The man gapes at the drenched thug for a moment then yells, "Hey, get out of there, the building's on fire!"
Troth comes quite fast back to the alley "To hot inside" he says gasping for some air "this thing is gonna go down to the ground" "i dont think anyone can save the building" he looks around and inside the tavern for Grondar when he hears a splash from where Grondar whent "Hey Grondar!" "come here!"
Grondar almost punched the guy … almost The fire is in the back room you moron, not on me. I'm just helping innocent travelers to get out from this burning hell. The drenched thug shouts to Troth Save them … get'em over here, we must exit from here, run !!
Noticing the sputtering thug has crossed unharmed, Mag looks to his companions and enters.
"Grondor seems none the worse for wear. Let's get through this thing and back to the ship before something worse happens, yeah?" With that, he moves across the room following Grondor's path, stowing his weapon as he goes.
"Agreed."Braer takes one last look over his shoulder and walks across the tavern. When he gets to the other side he remarks to the Bucketeer, "You will put the fire out much faster if you aim for it instead of just heaving water into the building.
“Come on Lissa, let’s follow the others.” Making word into deed, Colmarr leads Naomi through the tavern, keeping as far from the fire as possible.
Denther moves quickly through the burning building.
Troth follows the others trough the building.
The man at the head of the bucket brigade gapes at the people still in the tavern. "Sorry about the soaking, mate. Well, are you going to help or not?" The man passes his empty bucket back and takes another full one. Turning to look over his shoulder, he says to the people behind him, "Move the line forward! We need to get inside!" The entire line creeps forward, snaking through the wreckage inside the tavern, and soon the man is tossing water in the general vicinity of the back room. Large clouds of steam billow up, and the smoke is growing thicker. "Split the line up the stairs, or the second floor is gonna collapse in on us, and they'll be no saving her then!"
Meanwhile, our heroes have slipped out of the building and followed the line back to the docks. The western section of the docks is full of commotion as folks are participating in the bucket brigade, scooping water from the bay. Torches are lit everywhere; the area is ablaze with light. A city guard is shouting and attempting to organize a second bucket brigade. Somewhere in the city, a bell begins to ring. Several of the city guards are on the bucket line, sweating and participating with the civilians, and Colmarr recognizes the guards previously assigned to watch the Pander Ban. The ship is berthed on the eastern side of the harbor, deep in shadows.
Damn with that fire, it seems all Tortila is passing buckets, I must find some peace, some rest, some good old ale in my left hand while my good right is holding a wench. but … he looks at his friends, Oh .. .darn, I'll stay (Grondar)
Looking at the bucket line, Colmarr says, “Well if we’re going to continue on to the ship I’d advise vigilance, as it appears the guards that were assigned to protect the Pander Ban are busy on the bucket line. I hope the Merchant Bledsum hasn’t chosen this time to wreak his revenge on the captain...”
Mag frowns. "Best way to pull off a trick is to get your audience to pay attention to something else." He glances back at the burning building. "And if that isn't a bright, shiny, perfect distraction ... whether Bledsum did it on purpose or not, I think we need to pick up the pace."
The young man pulls his sling out again, loading it, and urges the group to move as quickly as they can while keeping an eye out for their own safety.
Troth nods at the Gnome when se realizes de danger they may be in. As Mag take up his sling himself unsheets his Rapier. "only one way to know my friend" he says to Colmarr "and thats on the ship" "even if there is a ambush there we need to secure the ship" "wich way Colmarr?" "Grondar you follow me and attack whatever im attacking"
I'll punch any Bledsum scum I'll see, and if things will turn ugly, we can always set ablaze the ship next to the Pander Ban, and bring the bucket line and the guards to us again
“Let’s go then...it’s that way,” Colmarr says, pointing towards the eastern side of the port and placing his free hand on his dagger.
Passing the end of the bucket brigade, Denther is sorely tempted to join in but, realizing that he is needed elsewhere, passes by, heading towards the ship.
On the docks of Tortilla, Troth leads the party carefully across the darkened quay, by empty barrells and crates, and down to where their ship is berthed. The main deck is dark and seemingly deserted when they climb aboard.
Taking a silver coin from his pouch, Colmarr sings quietly over it for several seconds before it glows with light.
OOC: Colmarr casts light on the silver coin.
Troth take a fast glance over the deck as the coin lightens up.
Mag moves to be shoulder-to-shoulder (height notwithstanding) to Colmarr, casting his gaze around the deck as he whispers, "I'm thinking we should get Lissa someplace secure below, then try to find the captain. I'd just call out to him, but, well, I'm not so sure he'd be the only one to hear it, you know?"
“Well if there are invaders aboard and they’re not on the deck, they must be below...so I don’t know if there’ll be a secure place for Lissa. You’re right about calling out though, if we’re not alone, so we should get to the captain as quickly as possible,” Colmarr concurs quietly, as he looks around the deck himself.
My spear is in your room and I have a feeling that I'm going to need it He says to Colmarr We can check for the captain on our way … Sap in hand Grondar goes and stands near the door that leads to the captain's, Braer's and colmarr's quarters.
“My crossbow is there too, so I’m all for heading back to my cabin first...come on Lissa,” Colmarr replies quietly, moving to follow Grondar with Naomi in tow.
"Im staying here guarding the deck" he walks to the main mast and tries to hide.
"I'll stay with you"
Wait! Grondar signal everyone to stop I have an idea to check if the Pander Ban is empty. I suggest you all find a barrel or a crate to hide behind and prepare yourself to any Bledsum that might appear. he turns to Colmarr If you got any tricky spells that can help Colmarr use them, as for her he nods towerds Lisa just put the little girl somewhere safe, maybe in the empty water barrel over there He points to the barrel that lies near the anchor Now, take cover and ready your weapons Grondar ready his sap, and stands behind the door to the cabins, one more look at his friends and he kicks the door open and shouts FIRE!!! FIRE ON THE PANDER BAN ANYONE IN THERE? GET OUT NOW !!!! PEDRO, GOMEZ, PASS ME THE F**CKING BUCKET
Magyar's eyes go wide as the thug bellows into the night.
"So much for my suggesting I scout ahead quietly," he mutters. Then, loaded sling in-hand, he hustles to the best place of concealment he can find that still gives him a decent line of fire.
Troth fades into the shadows near the main mast while Denther takes up a place next to some nearby crates that have yet to be offloaded. Braer hunkers down next to the gang plank watching for movement on the dock. The night is dark and quiet over here on the Pander Ban, away from the bustle and noise of the bucket brigade. The night air smells of salt and ash, and gray clouds obscure the sky. The water below is like ink lapping softly at the wooden hull of the ship.
Magyar slips silently up the ladder to the poop deck where he has a good view of the deck, the docks, and the harbor. Colmar retreats to the side with Naomi.
Grondar's bellow splits the night air and echoes across the bay. He kicks open the door reveling an empty, black passage. The galley hatch gapes open on the right, and Colmarr's berth is further down on the left. The dim light available does not reach to the end of the hall, where the Captain's cabin is.
CRASH!
Beyond the Captain's door there is a sound of breaking wood and glass. Up on the poop deck, Magyar can pinpoint the sound as coming from the stern of the ship. It is followed quickly by a splash. He rushes to the aft rail and stares hard into the night. The water below ripples, and there is the dark shape of a rowboat pulled up to the stern of the ship. Magyar hears swearing from below him on the water, and the boat pushes away from the Pander Ban, the oarsman pulling hard.
Magyar lifts his sling, but realizes it's too dark to have any kind of accuracy. Cursing himself for not thinking to ask Colmarr to ready one of his handy whisper-carrying spells, Mag calls out loudly, instead.
"They're trying to get away over here! We need light!"
"Where Mag where" Troth comes out of his concealment and runs to Magyar standing at the stern of the Pander Ban. Magyar hear the barbarian runing towards him, sound of knirking wood under his weight. Troth jumps over the ledge diving into the water where magyar was seeing.
Grondar you damned fool, I tell you I’m not adequately armed and you go scream out trying to attract attention, Colmarr thinks while shaking his head, as he heads across the deck to the stair, heading for the captain’s cabin. As he makes his way to the stair, Colmarr evokes four glowing spheres of light which resemble will-o’-wisps into being, centred 40 feet past the stern and about 20 feet above the water...hoping that gives enough light for Magyar’s needs he calls, “Call out if you need the lights moved,” before he makes his way below.
OOC: Colmarr uses his spell-like ability of dancing lights, which he locates as above.
Grondar runs to the captain's cabin, passing on the way via Colmarr's cabin to grab his spear.
Troth's soaring dive into the water from the Pander Ban would have been magnificent, had there been light to see it. As it is, the compact barbarian hits the water with a muffled splash which takes his breath away. When he surfaces, his ears are ringing and he can see very little. In moments, though, he has pinpointed the sounds of the rowboat and of a swimmer splashing through the water. They're headed northeast toward the bank, beyond the docks. Troth puts his head down and strokes through the water after them.
Four globes of colored light zip past Magyar where he stands peering into the gloom and begin circling over the water. The cast an eerie glow that allows him to see the two people fleeing as well as Troth swimming after them. The man rowing the boat cries out loudly in fear as the glowing orbs appear and redoubles his efforts at rowing away. He doesn't bother to stop as he shoots past his friend in the water.
"Wow, oni, how did you do that?" Naomi asks with a look of awe. "Can you teach me?"
Below decks, Grondar ducks into Colmarr's cabin for his spear. The room is empty, and he snatches up the long weapon before rushing to the captain's cabin. The door is locked.
“Sadly no onia, it is something unique to my people which cannot be taught,” Colmarr replies quietly, as they head down the stairs after Grondar. Rushing to his cabin, once they traverse the stairs, Colmarr grabs his crossbow and bolt case with one hand, while handing his dagger to Naomi with the other, saying, “Just in case you need to defend yourself...” before they head out into the corridor, and towards the captain’s cabin.
Looking back to Colmarr and the girl Grondar shouts Stay behind me. He leans the spear on the wall and tries to bash the captain's door with a kick. If he managed to open it, he'll grab the spear and charge in.
The doorjam splinters and the door flies open when Grondar kicks it. Inside, it looks as though a hurricane has hit. All of the drawers on the desk are out, their contents scattered across the floor. The Captain's trunk is open, and there are clothes hanging out. The window in the back of the cabin is shattered, presumably where the villian dove through as he made his escape.
Moving up behind Grondar, Colmarr loads his crossbow and whispers urgently to Naomi, “Stay close!” more than happy to let the big man take the lead.
Grondar glance quickly at the mess and tries to spot the captain. He then moves to the broken window and look outside.
Magyar whips the stone into the night. He quickly loses sight of it in the dark, and, as it has no visible effect on the rower, it was probably a clean miss. On the main deck, Braer methodically searches through the stacked crates and spare rigging, ensuring that no one is waiting in ambush.
Below, Naomi scootches up behind Colmarr, holding onto his cloak with her left hand and holding the dagger close. The glow of the magicked coin casts the cabin in a strange, stark white light, with sharp edged shadows cutting across the room. Grondar can see no other occupants, so he heads to the window to look out into the night. In the light of the dancing globes, he can see the man rowing away from the ship. He can also make out the splashing of Troth and the other man in the water. They are about thirty feet apart, and both appear to be strong swimmers.
“Guess we’d better go look for the captain elsewhere, hey Grondar,” Colmarr says, walking into the room and glancing around, ready to follow Grondar out of the room when he leaves if he doesn’t find anything.
OOC: Listen +6, Spot +1. Colmarr also moves the globes 10 feet further away from the ship, assuming the rower has made some distance since he came below deck (free action).
Idiot, Mag chastizes himself. You're not a warrior, you're a performer. Work your strengths!
Mag raises one arm above him and points to the rower with the other, putting his best frightful glare in place. "You've seen me conjure light from darkness, fool. Do you think it any more difficult for me to birth fire from water? Stop rowing and return to the ship now, or the bay itself will consume the tinder you sit in!"
Let us check Braer's cabin for the captain and then we'll go down, hopefully they didn't kill the old grumpy and threw him in the storage under the deck. With that Grondar moves to Braer cabins's to see if it's empty.
Hearing Magyar yell out to the man in the rowboat through the broken stern window, Colmarr grins and thinks, well he certainly has a flair for the dramatic.
Returning his focus to the gravity of what Grondar just said as he follows the big man from the room, Colmarr remarks, “Yes, hopefully the captain went ashore or something, as with Malachi gone I can do little for him right now if he is in dire need of healing...”
Denther moves to help Braer search the dark main deck. Shadows loom large, and there are many places a person might hide. Soon enough, though, they are confident that the deck is clear, and they turn toward the cabins.
Grondar leads the way out of the Captain's cabin. Braer's cabin is empty, so Grondar, Colmarr, and Naomi head back out on deck. There they meet Braer's group finishing up their search.
Down on the water, the man in the boat sits up when Magyar yells at him. In the light of the dancing globes his hands are quite visible, as is the loaded heavy crossbow he takes aim with. Unfortunately for Magyar, the dancing lights make the performer an easy target as well. Mag dives for cover as the heavy quarrel splinters the railing where he was standing. With a string of frightened curses, the crossbowman drops his weapon into the bottom of the boat and takes up the oars again.
Troth's gear weighs him down in the water as he attempts to keep swimming, and he is unable to capitalize on the oarsman's momentary lapse in rowing. The rowboat is still a good fifteen feet away from him. He's lost sight of the swimmer he was pursuing. No doubt fear fueled the culprit's veins, lending him greater speed.
The crew on deck heads below to search the hold. Most of the cargo has been brought up, so it doesn't take long to declare the ship vacant from stem to stern.
"Colmarr, can you move those lights closer to the man's face?"Braer says quietly and moves toward the docks to try and get a better view of (and possibly a clear path to) the boat
Mag swears under his breath as he picks himself back up from his dive for cover. He stops himself before launching another sling bullet, realizing the time it took to regain his footing has moved the man too far. He looks down to see Troth splashing forward still as the others gather.
"Troth, let the sons of sharks go" he calls out. "We'll face 'em down another time, on our terms. We need help to track down the captain."
Troth, swimming through the water intent on catching his quarry, cannot hear Magyar call out to him. He is once again swimming well, and he is slowly gaining on the rowboat. It is only about two body lengths away, now. Perhaps Troth will be able to catch the man when he lands.
After hollering at Troth, Magyar notices a matte black grappling hook he had failed to see before. It is attached to the aft railing on the port side, and a black rope dangles down to the water.
Tossing the coin to Braer, Colmarr moves up beside Magyar and pushes the lights further from the ship, trying to fulfill Braer’s request, tracking the men in the water. “If you boys want to chase them down, I’ll stay with the ship as I’ll only slow your progress.”
OOC: The dancing lights will last 1 minute and can reach 110 feet from the ship (Caster Level 1, as it’s a racial ability), the light spell on the coin will last for 20 minutes.
Mag tests the rope lightly. If it doesn't feel like anything is attached to the other end in the water, he starts pulling it up, telling the approaching Colmarr "Looks like I found how they got on."
“Hmm, from there they could have crept aboard, even with guards on the pier...I wonder how long they were on the ship before Grondar’s yell scared them off,” Colmarr muses, as he watches Magyar pull up the rope.
Looks like Troth will need our help when he'll get to shore, Denther come with me. With that Grondar, spear in hand, begin to run from the ship to the pier and to where Troth is going to "land"
Braer stops and thinks for a second and realizes that he's going the wrong way, he heads back to the other side and tries to get a better look at the man in the boat.
Colmarr moves up beside Magyar to examine the rope. Naomi stands at the railing, staring after the fleeing men with a look of intense concentration on her face. Braer peers through the night at the man in the rowboat, but even aided by the light of the five dancing globes, he can't clearly make out the man's face.
The first swimmer makes it to the rocky shore and, clamoring over the boulders, disappears beneath the trees. Shortly after, the rowboat runs up on the rocks as well. The man in the boat looks up fearfully as one of the globes of light swoops around his head, and in that moment Braer gets a good look at the man's features. The man sees Troth stroking hard, and he turns and flees up the slippery rocks. Troth reaches the rowboat and sees the man fleeing up the rocky slope slip sideways and whack his head on a sharp rock. The man plunges into the bay, slipping beneath the waves.
Grondar and Denther race back up the pier to the docks, cutting around the north side of the bay. There they find the Seaman's Rest Inn which appears to be locked up tight for the evening. Perhaps the owners are off fighting the fire. On the harbor side of the inn is a tall fence, beyond which can be seen trees. On the other side of the inn is a small alley which runs back to the city wall.
OOC: Grondar and Denther will take three rounds to get to the Seaman's Rest Inn. Troth took one round to get to the rowboat, and he must decide what to do at the beginning of his second round. Braer spent two rounds trying to spot. Colmarr and Magyar aren't really in round time right now.
“I see you’ve worked it out on your own, Lissa,” Colmarr remarks approvingly, grinning at the girl as he notices an extra globe among his lights.
Mag looks down at the gnome quizzically, then stares a moment at the young girl. Eyes falling back on Colmarr, Mag whispers, "Wait, you mean Lissa just did magic? Real magic?"
Troth listens to the night and hears only the wind. He takes a few steps into the trees and listens again, but can hear only the sound of his own heart beating. Was that the sound of running footsteps? It's difficult to tell, and he cannot place their precise direction.
Grondar peers into the depths of the trees...A shadowy figure lurks beneath the pines. Braer comes running up behind Grondar and Denther.
Back on the ship, Colmarr's gnomish eyes pick out the slight pinkening of Naomi's cheeks as she flushes, and the extra globe winks out. Magyar whispers to Colmarr as Naomi turns. She has an unreadable look on her face. "I...I don't know what you're talking about. I didn't do anything."
“I guess I was mistaken then,” Colmarr declares, winking at Naomi.
Mag looks back and forth between Colmarr and Lissa again, brows furrowed.
"I ... guess so," he says with something less than full conviction. Then he shakes his head.
"We have to figure out what happened to the captain, anyway," Mag says. "Did you find anything down below that might tell us? I don't remember him saying he was going into town, but gods know it's been an eventful enough night that it could have slipped my mind."
“Yes we do. I think we should go see if he’s in the bucket line somewhere, and if he’s not we can ask one of the men who were guarding the ship if he left before the fire alarm was raised,” Colmarr says, as he takes another silver coin from his pouch, and sings over it until it glows with light. “Shall we go,” he says, turning and walking towards the pier. Once off the ship they’ll make their way back to the bucket line where they saw the guards.
OOC: Colmarr will cast light on another silver coin, which he’ll keep this time (his last spell for the day).
Mag nods at Colmarr's suggestion, then his brow furrows as the gnome is creating light again.
"Just so we don't wind up creating a cycle of searching for each other, maybe we should leave a note for the others--or the captain if he returns--telling them where we went?"
As quickly as he can, Mag runs below for his pack, snatching a piece of chalk and writing the following on the deck
Looking for captain. Back soon.
-Mag the Magni, Colmarr, & Lissa
Pocketing the piece of chalk, Mag says with a smile "Sorry about the signature. Force of habit. Now, surely they can't miss that, can they?"
“Sure, though I don’t...” Colmarr manages, before Magyar runs below.
While they wait for Magyar’s return, Colmarr flips the glowing coin back and forth across the back of his fingers, as much to amuse himself as Naomi.
Once Maygar has scrawled his note on the deck, Colmarr says with a grin, “No, I don’t think they’ll miss that, though I was wondering where we were going to put the note when you suggested it...problem solved I’d say, so let’s go.”
While Magyar is below, Naomi watches Colmarr roll the glowing coin back and forth with a wondering look in her eye.
"How do you do that, oni?"
Later, after Magyar has scrawled his note across the deck, Naomi looks at it and asks, "What's that say?"
“Do what!” Colmarr remarks, grinning as he rolls the coin across again, “Lots of practice and a little natural talent onia, I’ll show you how when we have a little more time, as I expect Magyar will be back shortly.”
A little later...
“Oh, you can’t read onia, well I suppose that’s to be expected, considering. It says ‘Looking for captain. Back soon’,” Colmarr says, pointing out the words as he says them, “And the second line is our names ‘Mag, Colmarr, & Lissa’. Magyar started adding a title to his name there, but he crossed it out.”
"Ooohh...But how do you make the coin light up? You sang a song over it, and you did that before, too. I liked that song. Can you teach me that, too? I...I really do like to sing, sometimes."
A little later...
"Ohh..." Naomi says, looking at the words closely. She bends over to trace them with her finger. "Do you think I could learn to read, oni?" Turning to Magyar, she asks, "Magyar, why did you cross out your title? Are you a lord in disguise?" The fact that the ex-performer may or may not be nobility doesn't appear to excite her all that much.
“Well that’s magic! Hmm, I can certainly try to teach you the song, I know Magyar wants to learn too, but as I told Magyar it depends whether you have the gift required to make the magic and music meld together as one. We can always sing though onia, whether it’s magical or not,” Colmarr says, smiling at the girl.
A little later...
“Certainly onia, nearly anyone can learn to read if they want to put in the effort,” Colmarr replies, as he watches Naomi trace the letters.
Mag shakes his head with a gentle smile. "Some of my relatives might like to thinks so, but the Rhineholdts were merely performers. I was writing my stage name, which no longer really applies since I've no stage to work from."
"Did you have to learn magic, or did it just sort of...happen?"
Later...
"Will you teach me to read, then, oni?"
“It suppose it just sort of happened. You see, I was down in the cellar one day, looking for something for my mother when my lamp went out, so I started singing what I thought was a little nonsense tune and the lamp started to glow...like the coin. Of course I’ve learned a few things since then, but sometimes things just happen on their own, like when I healed you...”
Later...
“Of course I’ll teach you to read, and write too, onia. I guess I’d better pick up some chalk and a slate if I can find them tomorrow, as that’s a lot easier than trying to work with an ink pen...plus it’ll save us writing on the deck,” Colmarr chuckles.
As they leave the ship and move down the docks, Naomi peppers Magyar with questions. "What happened to your stage? Do you miss it? What was it's name?"
Shortly, Colmarr, Magyar, and Naomi leave the deck of the Pander Ban in search of the lost captain. They head back down the docks to where the bucket line is working smoothly. Colmarr's glowing coin draws a few odd, startled looks from the people on the line, but a soldier that is pacing up and down the line is quick to call tose folks to task. Magyar recognizes him as the leader of the guard contingent placed on the Pander Ban.
"Captain Turion?" the man asks, scratching his head when Colmarr asks him about the captain. "Yeah, he went into town right around sunset. He didn't say where he was headed, but I believe he usually finds his way to the Three-Penny Inn up on Rose. What, you don't know where that is? Take this street here up past the bucket brigade until you get to the Civil Wall. Head past that and there'll be a butcher shop on your right. That's Rose. Turn there, and head down until you see the Three-Penny. Now, if you'll excuse me, we've got a fire to fight." He turns and strides down the line. "That's it, folks, keep it up! Everyone move forward two steps! We're pushing in, keep the water flowing!"
“Certainly, thank you for the help, it’s most appreciated,” Colmarr calls after the guard, as he strides down the line.
“Well Magyar, now we know the captain left of his own accord. I suppose we should hunt him down though and make a report...just in case they absconded with something from his cabin,” Colmarr says, a peculiar look on his face. “Though I’d feel a lot better if we had a few more crewmates along, in a town like this.”
Mag scrunches up his face a moment, looking around the dark streets, then says, "If we're reasonably certain those intruders did nothing to the captain, I wonder if it might not be better to return to the ship? It's once again unguarded, and--as you say--we're not really the best crewmen for taking on dark, rough streets. Especially with Lissa in tow. So long as we make sure nothing else leaves the ship, the captain can search his effects as well when he returns as if we grab him now."
"And who knows," the young man adds with a shrug. "Maybe our tougher companions will manage to snag one or more of those men for questioning by the time the captain returns on his own."
“You’re probably right Magyar, let’s go back to the ship,” Colmarr remarks, pretty certain the captain took whatever he had with him or hid it so no one could find it.
Within short order, Grondar, Troth, Braer, and Denther make is back to the ship. Shortly after, Colmarr, Magyar, and Naomi arrive back, and the two groups share the information they learned: that one man escaped and the captain went into town earlier.
No women tonight Grondar thinks sadly. I suggest we stay here, guard the ship and wait for the captain, Noochuck, Malachi and Wakil
“Well I doubt they’ll be back, whoever they were, but if you insist on staying Grondar I won’t gainsay your choice,” Colmarr declares, before heading towards his cabin with Naomi.
'Lets see what morning bring' 'I take the first watch' he lights a torch and starts to make his round on deck.
Once he's arrived back, Mag cleans up his scrawled note while he lets Colmarr relay the news. When Grondor suggests guarding the place, Mag finds himself relieved, but also exhausted.
"You're probably a better choice of guard than I," Mag says to the thug. "But if you need someone to relieve you for a shift, feel free to wake me. I suppose I need to get better at this sort of thing if this is the way life on this crew goes."
"But for now," he says, with a weak bow of his head, "I think I'm going to collapse in sleep belowdecks."
Naomi lets out an ostentatious yawn as she follows Colmarr below.
The evening passes without further incident.
Once they reach his cabin, Colmarr retrieves his dagger from Naomi, setting both weapons near at hand should the need arise. Putting Naomi in his bed, Colmarr prepares to sleep on his bedroll near the door, setting his still glowing coin near the bed and letting the magic run out by itself unless asked to extinguish it by Naomi.
---
While most of the crew is enjoying their night on the town, Wakil, Malachi, and N'un T'Chauck follow Mery home. In the woods, she is jumped by several bandits, and the boys rush in to help. In the ensuing fight, people are wounded and two of the bad guys end up dead. The third escapes. Malachi reveals more of his healing talent, and the men escort Mery the rest of the way home (carrying the dead bodies with them). At Mery's home they meet her father, an old wounded soldier, and they learn more of the troubles in the land, the rumblings from the south, and they learn of a mysterious new group of slavers that came from the far west and allied with the Bledsum family. They have a compound north of Tortila. The following morning, Mery, her father, and smitten N'un T'Chauck pack up and head west with many other people steadily leaving Tortila for the safer kingdoms of the midwest. Wakil and Malachi return to the Pander Ban.
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