The Four Lands - The Intelligence Service

[J. Alexander]

20 day of High Summer

The tavern at best can only described as seedy and even that is generous. Located in one of the poorer sections of the Captial of the Republic, the Faded Spwarrow" is indeed faded. The stench of unwashed bodies and tracked in dung only adds to the misery of poor ciculation on this hot and humid night of high summer. The heat both inside and out is oppressive making tempers short and people surley. The common room is usually large measuring some 50 by 100 feet with several obvious side door. Several flights of stairs run upwards to an encirling balcony upon which patrons also sit at tables or stand lining the balcony itself looking down into the common pit.

Indivudals come and go at will with no discernable pattern. The missive found in your purse at lunchtime simply had the name "Faded Sparrow" with an enclosed gold piece. Curiosity having gotten the best of you, you deiced against your better nature to make the trek here and see what it is all about.

Once arrived you find no one to meet you as you had expected. Making the best of the long walk here you decide to enjoy the bounty of the strange missive and with such drink as is offered.

(Player up)

 

[Rhun]

Braxton Hague, Rogue 4/Fighter 1

A handsome, young aristocrat frowns upon finding nobody to meet him at the Sparrow. The man's clothes are rich and in good repair, and a finely crafted longsword hangs from his tooled belt. While he certainly looked out of place in the poor tavern, in truth Braxton felt quite comfortable. He frequented seedy dives like this place often...not only were they a goldmine of information, but it was usually an easy task for him to take a few coins off the locals with a couple of rounds of cards or dice.

With little else to do, Braxton approaches the bar and flags down the barkeep. "A pint of stout, if you please," he says, his voice rich, with a hint of the accent so common among the nobility. "In a clean mug, mind you."

As he receives his drink, he turns his attention back the common room, looking for anyone else that might stand out in this crowd.

 

[Kagehiro]

A man with dipped dreadlocks, and a robe enters. As you catch his back you note a double sided sword of blue crystal. his face sombre at best, he wears a gaze that incites mournful thoughts. he scans the crowd before his eyes again sink down to the ground. he removes his overcoat and throws it over a chair as he sits at the bar. his gaunt frame and sword make him look like an exotic warrior. he smiles to himself as he hides his face with his hair, looking down.

"A wine sir. I've been wandering for some time from my family manor. Looking for work, as it will."

He looks around the bar sizing fighters up. Scanning for symbols of Nerull. He then returns to the bartender as he waits his drink.

Thinking to himself 'just a matter of time'

 

[jkason]

Donovan Tepari, human cleric

A large, broad-shouldered man enters the Sparrow. He looks like a fairly standard caravan-guard type: morninstar hanging from his hip, shield slung on his back. But the apparent absence of any armor, and the silver symbol of St. Pelor hanging from his neck speak to something else.

Donovan sits back in a corner near the entrance, ordering himself a mild drink and taking in the scene.

 

[Dragonwriter]

[sblock=Soul Binding]Binding Check for Naberius for today, DC 15. Roll: 28. So, no need for sign or influence today.[/sblock]

A young, slightly chubby man wearing a loose robe of white cloth and cloth cap of the same color stumbles in through the door, leaning slightly on a stout staff. He takes the cap off and wipes perspiration from his forehead, mussing his light blond hair both when he takes it off and replaces it. He coughs a little to clear his throat of the dust and heat from outside, then walks up to the bar. He takes a seat on a stool, leaning his staff against the bar nearby.

He says plainly, though to no one in particular, "Terrible day out there..." His eyes glaze over for a second, then snap back into focus as he calls the barman over and orders a mug of pale ale.

While waiting for the drink, Orion takes a moment to breathe. Once it arrives, he sips it slowly and looks around the inside of the place. An easy smile remains on his face, though his eyes seem to glaze over a bit...

 

[Scott DeWar]

A human of a hard to deturmine age enters the Inn, hard due to the lack of hair. there is a well weathered face thaat shows the work he has done in the outside and the completely shaved head. His black robe is plain as his sash around his waist, only a couple of pouches and a set of prayer beads adorn him as well as a holy symbol of the siant ------ about his neck show any form of affiliation. his head is covered by a plain black cloth scull cap.

He approaches the bar and asks for a simple beer. He then looks about for an empty table.

 

[HolyMan]

Entering the tavern with the slip of paper still in one hand and the coin in the other Frigin walks up to the bar and waits to get the barkeeps attention. His bald head shows sweat from the hot day and he stands with a slight stoop leaning near the bar. The sword on his back looks small for such a large man, and his armor looks almost new and unused.

"Is this this place?" he asks showing the barkeep the paper. "If it is I want to thank you for this." he adds holding up the coin.

 

[Kagehiro]

Netzach moves over to the clerical one in black. Seeing the prayer beads and holy symbol, he asks the man slowly.
"Do you find that your prayers work better than a sword? Have you ever wanted to test that philosophy?"

He grins from the corner of his mouth as he shows a neat row of teeth, a few filed down to points, the dental work looks painful but skillfully done.
"Well father? Want to test the weight of you soul to my blade?"

 

[Rhun]

"Is this this place?" he asks showing the barkeep the paper. "If it is I want to thank you for this." he adds holding up the coin.

Still standing nearby at the bar, Braxton can't help but notice the hulking barbarian with the note in hand, so similar to the one that he had himself received. He smiles at the man. "You've got the right place, my large friend." The young aristocrat holds his hand out in greeting. "I am Braxton Hague. Well met."

 

[jkason]

Donavan Tepari, human cleric

Netzach moves over to the clerical one in black. Seeing the prayer beads and holy symbol, he asks the man slowly.
"Do you find that your prayers work better than a sword? Have you ever wanted to test that philosophy?"

He grins from the corner of his mouth as he shows a neat row of teeth, a few filed down to points, the dental work looks painful but skillfully done.
"Well father? Want to test the weight of you soul to my blade?"

Donovan stands as the man in dreadlocks seems interested in picking a fight with the monk.

"The Light doesn't need to prove itself against a man's blade," Donovan says, hand hovering over his own morningstar, "But its clerics aren't afraid to defend the faithful."