The Second Golden Age of Oannon

[Dekana]

Daniel subtly ends the conversation as the gnome approaches, wary of his loyalties. "I may take you up on that, Gar."

"Hello there, short fellow. A gloomy mood indeed, since our former Lord met an untimely end at the gallows this morning. No matter though! I'm sure we'll have a new pompous fat-man in charge by the end of the day. As for the rest of the news, well, let's see..."

Daniel tells the traveling gnome about the recent political history of the town. He mentions that the man who met his death today was Lord Oswell, and incompetent ruler that came into power by his wealth. Before him was Lord Gilliam, who was generally well liked. He tried to secede the town from the kingdom, and bring it into the Acherian alliance (a collection of free states). However, the king managed to stop Gilliam with a contingent of his army. Gilliam escaped, and is currently leading a peasant uprising. Daniel speaks in generally positive terms about Gilliam, avoiding the use of words such as "bandit", "terrorist", or "rebel".

 

[Arkhandus]

Nezzern slowly puzzles over this in his head, knowing that the locals are most assuredly giving him skewed information, but.....

All in all, it appears that disorder and the seeds of a prolonged conflict between the authorities, young ruffians, and old leaders will probably plague this town with strife and near-anarchy soon, for what could be weeks, months, or perhaps even years. That just wouldn't be right.

Surely these village simpletons ruled by simpletons needed some higher power, some intelligent force, to put their petty conflict over the town's leadership to rest. To solve their backwoods hick-town quarrel before it gets completely out of hand and just ends up hurting everyone involved.

Nezzern sighs outwardly, and resigns himself to probably needing to be that lone island of actual intelligence in the sea of this town's foolishness. To observers, it looks like the gnome is feeling a heavy burden foisted on his shoulders, as he slumps for a moment.

Straightening his shoulders after a moment, he shakes off the onus and brings a slight smile back to his face. "The news is troubling indeed, but I think I should like to help out in some way.... Oh, and my name is Nezzern."

(ooc: huzzah for gnome ego tripping!)

 

[Jack of Tales]

A tired traveler walks over the small hill towards the town marked on his map. Sure it wasn't a large place but everyone gambles, right? He looks into his money pouch and sighs at the two yellow coins clinking together against a handful of silver. Barely enough to work with, he thinks. He tips his hat to block the falling sun and walks down the hill towards the town.

As he approaches he sees several bodies being heaved down from a gallows. Not a very inspiring image, Jack muses. He spots the sign for an inn and heads that way allowing a small smile to play across his face at the thought of cheating a few poor farmers out of a handful of coin.

 

[Altair]

As you are walking into town, you notice a group of men making their way through on horseback. Their party is comprised of 5 men, including a dwarf and an elf. The elf appears to be unarmed, though the others are armored in mail, with various weapons strapped to their backs. They are all clad in the tabards of a house you don't recognize (definitely not the colors of the local lord) with embroidered outlines signifying that they are of officer rank, though they don't appear to be knights.

They head over to the knight-marshal overseeing the streets, exchange a few words, and then make towards the Lion's Head Inn, stabling their own horses in the stalls and entering the building.

 

[Jack of Tales]

Jack watches the soldiers ride into town with a glimmer in his eye. Soldiers are even more foolish then farmers when it comes to money. However...it could also spell trouble. He weighs his chances of getting money with his chances of being dragged into something and decides that whatever the odds either one will likely be a better prospect then having to walk to another village.
He strides down to the town and walks over to where the inn bearing the emblem of the lion. He pulls his drab hat's brim down over his eyes and with one hand swings the door open before stepping through into a situation he knows little about; which only excites him more.

 

[Altair]

The place looks rather cozy. It is well-lit with several glass windows set into the walls, no wooden beams jutting across the room for a person to hit their head on, and the place has no terrible odors to speak of. To your left, there is a counter, which the owner is standing behind, talking noisily with the 5 men you saw walking in. To your right there is a fireplace burning gently in the corner, with a couple of cats lying lazily next to it on a rug, enjoying the heat. Against the right wall is an empty table littered with half-drunk wine bottles and pairs of dice scattered across it.

In front of you there is a single (doorless) doorway opening into a sleeping area with several sheetless beds placed side-by-side. Leaning against the same wall there is also a stairway leading up to a second floor.

"Look, I'm really grateful to you for helping my sister the other day, but I honestly have no idea what you're talking about. After what happened today I could get hanged for what you're claiming, on the mere accusation. I'd like for you to leave" you overhear the innkeeper saying. He appears to be an unremarkable-looking man in his 30s. Healthy (though unmuscular), dark-haired and with a light shadow of a beard running down his chin.

You hear people moving around upstairs, the ceilingboards creaking audibly under their weight. There are at least half a dozen of them.

[I forgot to add the +4 modifier when rolling the die, but your modifier is accounted for]

 

[Jack of Tales]

Jack readjusts his satchel and shifts his attention to the cluster of armed men speaking to the innkeep. What could they be discussing? It doesn't look like trouble and I'm thirsty so...He walks confidently over to the bar and slides around the crowd to rest his elbows down on the scratched countertop. He leans forward and tries his best tosmile kindly at the man. Sir, Do ya think I could get a pint here?

 

[Altair]

"Bah, hold on a second", the owner says to them as he turns to you irately. "Can't you see we're not a bar anymore?" He grabs a mug from under the counter and holds it under the tap of one of the barrels sitting behind him. Nothing comes out as he pulls the release. "The taps ran dry months ago, why do you think we sold off all the tables?. We're just an inn now until things pick up again." He drops a wine bottle in front of you. "Here's some wine, for customers only. It's 5 silver for a bed, 5 gold for a private room and the stable."

(Other than yourself, these 6 men, and whoever's upstairs, there's nobody else in the inn. It's just turning evening now, judging by how dark it is outside.)

 

[Jack of Tales]

Jack's smile sours at the harsh reception. His hand creeps over to the bottle of wine and wraps around it slowly. Probably sour, he thinks to himself, just like this innkeep. He attempts to salvage the situation and turns to the six armored men. Soldiers always love a game of chance, he thinks. Although perchance I should figure out what's going on in this town before I get into any type of trouble. "Sirs, you don't seem to be of the local constabulary. Are ye travellers like myself? What brings you to this seemingly desolate place?"

 

[Altair]

The elf seems to be the spokesperson for the group, though he doesn't look at all like the immaculate, regal elves who rule Alancia. His ears are pointed and he is smooth-skinned, but his hair is unkempt, and he has a short beard growing on his lower lip. Under his tabard, he is wearing a thick red coat, which bears the same amount of creases and dirt as your own clothing. He appears unarmed, though he may be hiding some small weapons in his coat.

The dwarf, on the other hand, resembles in every way the dwarven stereotype. A thick orange beard, braided into three; a large red, bulbous nose jutting out from the nest of hair, and his tabard covered in ale-stains, with his entire body emanating an almost visible miasma of alcohol and sweat. To his back is strapped a large, intimidating double-bit axe.

One of the humans is dressed in only a light chain shirt, of such a light mesh that the padding beneath is visible, his legs and wrists unarmored and he carries a slender blade on his belt. The other two are dressed in the heavy mail coat of a guardsman, one of them bearing the medallion of Pelor from his neck tied to a lace, and again hanging on a chain fastened to his belt.

"Take him into the other room and find out what he knows" the elf commands, provoking protest from the innkeeper as the three humans lead him into the sleeping area.

He walks around behind the counter, helping himself to a couple of bottles of wine which he sets on the surface. He comes back around, grabs a seat beside you and drops himself on it tiredly. The flimsy stool wobbles as he sits down. "Desolate doesn't cover it" he sighs, "all day we've been searching the outskirts of town for any signs of these bandits that have been troubling the area. Then when we come back here, we find that the lord is dead... and the rat we were looking for STILL evades us." He chuckles mirthlessly. "Me and my companions are heading back to Gieldon as soon as the night is done, things are going to get dangerous as the fighting here takes to the streets. You wouldn't happen to know anything about any of this, would you?"

"Oh, by the way, my name's Gyozo, and this is Drunnis", he introduces himself and takes a gulp from the wine bottle. The dwarf nods upon being acknowledged, but says nothing.

[Gieldon, you recall, is the capital city of this nation, they presumably serve one of the many minor houses of the city. The name Gyozo isn't a traditional elven name, nor was it one you've ever heard before.]