"I'll be fine... maybe..." Faerieth says, "just need to... get off the boat..." its hard to tell if she just takes time to think about her words or if her grasp on common is loose at best. She takes a few steps before deciding that maybe support was a good idea. She takes the offered shoulder, "Boats... are not fun..."
Krinix, having missed the interaction, is a bit confused by the captain's words, but he sees his new companions already heading off the ship and keeps close to them. He hopes they know where they are going, because he has no idea.
Chroma calmly stares the trio down as they depart the ship before turning around and wading through the mass of adventurers flooding to depart. Making her way to the thinning deck, she nods her head at the captain as he speaks. "Thank you for the fare, captain. I wouldn't expect such cowardly individuals to instigate a fight on fair terms. I appreciate your help - I will certainly need to find my bearings here. Perchance, do you happen to have a map on you to spare? My companions and I," she says, gesturing to the four, "are new to Phlan." No matter the answer, she will similarly aid the seasick Firbolg depart onto land if the aid from the Gith proves to be insufficient.
The captain puts his hands on his hips and smiles reassuringly at Chroma.
"Don't you worry about that, you'll be supplied with everything you'll be needing. Just follow the others and you'll be shown where to go, and if you need passage to any other port on the Moonsea, our charter is just over yonder." he says, pointing at a wheelhouse station down the docks.
"You'd best be going, or you'll get separated from the group. Good luck to you lot."
The last of the crowd descends the gangplank and filters out into a wide open courtyard where dozens of landscapers are busy working away to create a welcoming visitor's hub, planting flowers in stepped beds, trimming grass, shaping hedges and raising lantern poles. Beyond that, a grand project is under way as it seems a large monument was recovered from the former slums to be raised once again. It looks like a kind of light house, only with a thinner main shaft and no top as of yet. Something definitely looks like it once connected to the top of the main support beams. It looks to be the main attraction of this 'visitor's center' that is being built over the old fort barracks which aren't needed anymore.
The human trio of troublemakers have separated from the crowd as they walk down the main drag, towards the merchant's district. No one is kept waiting long before a centaur dressed in fine plate armor appears before the crowd. He bears a splendid banner of the New Phlan crest flying gently on the breeze and stands at rigid, militant attention. In a booming, authoritative voice, he gets the crowd split up into the groups that formed on their own and has any stragglers that were left without a group to file into an interview booth. As the centaur gets closer, it becomes apparent that he has a rider, a middle aged gnome wearing almost comically large glasses writing furiously in a log book. Finally, he approaches the quartet.
"Oh my! What an interesting party. A gith and a firbolg! You have come a long way! Splendid! And not one but two dragonborn! Quite the rarity." the gnome says excitedly as he prepares to write down information.
"Could I get your names and signatures for the logs? It also lets us know that you are aware of the dangers of the frontier and that you are indeed participating in the expedition of your own free will. Just a bit of legal formalities in case the unexpected happens. I'll then show you all to a council representative who will be in charge of giving you your writs of passage, your credit for purchasing expedition goods and assigning you an outpost."
Krinix steps forward and takes the writing instrument. He writes his name in a steady cursive, Krinix Shiltreth. He had heard that this would be dangerous and had previously come to terms with it, but the official’s reminder has refreshed the issue in his mind.
“Can you tell us more about said dangers? What sort of wild beasts? Antagonistic forces? Environmental dangers? Will we be briefed on any of this?”
Faerieth stares at the writing implement, then the paper where the Bronze Dragonborn had written his name, before taking it in her hands and scratching out in barely legible common, Faerieth.
Chroma accepts the sheet and entirely forgoes the instrument, choosing to dip a claw in ink and scratch her name directly on the parchment. The instrument would be difficult to hold due to the size of Chroma, and the writing looks surprisingly neat and exact. She thanks the gnome before examining the area they are in and any occupants inside it, taking mental note of exits and the general flow of activity.
The gnome responds to Krinix while the others are signing their names into the record book.
"If you're unfamiliar with the region of the Moonsea, your council representative will be the one who will fill you in on all the dangers you may be facing. Largely, you'll be having to navigate around the leftovers from the seige of New Phlan. While it was years ago, the creatures that the dragon Tyranthraxus drew into service carved out an unnatural niche for themselves in our territory. Strange creatures not native to the area have caused havoc in the Quivering Forest, for instance. But, that's not really my department. I'm just here basically taking attendance, keeping record of who's come and gone and who's.... not coming back."
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DM, professional illustrator and comic artist, suffering from severe spinal stenosis, married, middle aged, and nerdy.
Qiran bristles slightly, uncomfortable with the rigid and semi-militant organization. It reminded him too much of home.
"The name is Qiran," he announces as he signs. His signature is smooth, but arcs around as he signs, as if it were part of a larger, invisible circle. He hands the inkpen back to the gnome before stepping back and waiting for further guidance.
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Attending Academy until November, slowdown in posts continue.
"Jarvo eh? Oh! So you've met Captain Duncan! Very good indeed." the gnome chuckles lightly and leans a bit closer to the four, putting a hand to the side of his mouth in a gesture that says, 'don't go spreading this around'.
"Jarvo is the senior director of the council representatives. With him, you'll actually get a choice about where you'd like to investigate first rather than just being stuck with what's left and told where to go. Sort of a 'first come first served' system. I'll take you to his office myself, if you're all finished signing in." he says, hopping off the centaur's back.
"I'm going to go stretch my legs, Brin. You're relieved." the gnome says as the centaur suddenly jerks to attention and salutes the gnome who barely comes up to his withers.
"Sir, thank you, sir!" the centaur says and canters off down the street, to which the gnome shakes his head slightly with a sigh and a smirk.
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DM, professional illustrator and comic artist, suffering from severe spinal stenosis, married, middle aged, and nerdy.
Krinix silently mouths the name "Tyranthraxus" to himself but does not pursue the subject. Instead he regards the monument being erected, pointing at it and asking the gnome,
The gnome pauses at Krinix's question in mid-step to look at the monument.
"We're not... entirely certain. While we believe it to simply be an ornamental structure, the way it was constructed suggests that it had a more specific purpose. It's incomplete yet, we're clearly missing some parts, but they'd have to be so large that they won't be able to stay hidden for long. I'm almost certain that it could move in some way. There's a large copper plate over a deep pit that was buried just beneath the street which matches the dimensions of the base of the structure perfectly, so we know it was mounted there once. The pit was probably for drainage to prevent the foundation from listing over time, but it's not wide enough for anyone to go down to investigate." the gnome explains, then gestures about in an eccentric way.
"Yes, yes, I know. A gnome interested in tinkering and ancient machinery, how original."
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DM, professional illustrator and comic artist, suffering from severe spinal stenosis, married, middle aged, and nerdy.
Qiran allows himself a conspiratorial smile - it seemed they would have a leg up on the competition. This was good. He wondered what had earned them this privilege. Sure, the other three had been the most interesting people on the boat and the most impressive at first glance but not all power was externally visible. Maybe one of his new associates had some connections?
"Wise, to investigate this machine. If we have fortune, it is an inert weapon. Or a planar anchor - less fortune, then."
He falls into step alongside the gnome, considering their surroundings as he does so.
"You have been very helpful. How are you called, friend?"
((You and I are gonna simulpost all game, aren't we? XD ))
Chroma stands, observing the conversation. She's certainly glad for the turn in events after the captain's recommendation, and while the talk of mechanical instruments and weaponry flew over her head, she was intrigued by the history of the ruins they were about to explore. She silently follows the gnome, observing the vibrant scenery and the bustling surroundings.
The gnome regards both Qiran and Krinix before adjusting his glasses and stopping to bow with a flourish.
"Harken Greenwood, at your service, such as it is. I'm just a lowly clerk in the city council but I do know most of the higher ups personally. I've lived in New Phlan my whole life, though even that was not long enough to see Phlan in its glory days. I've seen both major sieges within the last few centuries and saw Phlan fail to fully reach its rebirth both times. Seems every time we try to stand back up, we get knocked down... but we're a stubborn people, and we'll get back up out of the dirt as many times as we have to." Harken says with some degree of pride.
"This time feels different, however. This is the age of heroes! Who knows what will happen and what will be accomplished? What a time to be alive!" Harken says as he leads the four to a large municipal building. Also likely a converted barracks at one time, its walls have been adorned with Victorian masonry work and flags all proudly flying the New Phlan banner. It also is still under construction. In fact, a great many of the buildings undergoing renovation have an exceedingly welcoming and homey feel. Going inside the building shows that the remodeling extends to the insides as well. While not adorned with expensive or decadent decor, a lot of artistry is on display with carved reliefs in the walls, making the most out of more modest materials. No one from the crowd is there with them, it's just the four with Harken walking through the halls.
(From here on in, if you want me to stop and wait to post until everyone has had a chance to react, just put 'hold' at the end of your post, otherwise I'll respond to posts to keep things moving if you don't feel your character has anything really to contribute. I'm not trying to rush anyone, I'm just trying to keep flow)
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
DM, professional illustrator and comic artist, suffering from severe spinal stenosis, married, middle aged, and nerdy.
(Thank you, but no need to wait for me, I'm actually in several games including DM'ing one and I'm checking the forums obsessively. If I haven't posted in awhile it's because I don't want to hog all the posting)
Krinix: "Master Greenwood, thank you for the warm welcome to your city. I hope that I can help in some way. When time permits, I would be interested in talking to you more about your experiences during the sieges. That must have been a difficult time - you must have some incredible stories to tell."
Qiran's gaze lingers on the carved reliefs and the subtle but present comforts and decoration. It seemed a sensible idea to not flaunt removable wealth in a town that had known so much strife. Just as sensible was Krinix's inquiry regarding the sieges. Qiran was curious about tall tales of heroism and battle-skill but more curious about how previous defenses had failed.
He opened his mouth to ask his allies about their abilities, but another thought occurred to him first. The workforce was. . . illogical.
"Harken Greenwood, why do you use so many smallfolk for the restorations and constructions? Would humans, orcs, or even dwarves not be better workers? Stronger, better porters?"
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Attending Academy until November, slowdown in posts continue.
Harken looks to Krinix then, pivoting and walking backward to face the four as he leads them down the hallway.
"You'd think, but I didn't actually see much of the sieges. Given my stature, my family and I were sequestered into the hold where we mostly just waited for the fighting to be over. I was also quite young when the first siege happened, so I don't remember much of it. The second siege, the hold was actually breached but we had already evacuated into the Quivering Forest where the mistress of the woods agreed to hide us since the council had previously formed--and honoured--a pact where we agreed to not log the forest unless given permission. It was largely, for us, a matter of hiding and waiting."
Harken turns his attention to Qiran, and his expression and demeanor changes on a dime.
"Are they? It's just that kind of a day, we employ all kinds here, they just happen to be working in the same area, is all." he says, turning about sharply to once again lead the group, hands folded behind his back.
(Reposting since this will be on a fresh page--if anyone wants to halt the RP so they don't get left behind or overwhelmed or don't want their 'turn' skipped but can't post right away, just put 'hold' as your whole post. Otherwise, I encourage you all to post at whatever pace you like so we can keep the story moving, and if you need to address something with me, don't be afraid to say so!)
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
DM, professional illustrator and comic artist, suffering from severe spinal stenosis, married, middle aged, and nerdy.
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"I'll be fine... maybe..." Faerieth says, "just need to... get off the boat..." its hard to tell if she just takes time to think about her words or if her grasp on common is loose at best. She takes a few steps before deciding that maybe support was a good idea. She takes the offered shoulder, "Boats... are not fun..."
Elra Skylash - Human Cleric | Vanzaren Tanidoni - Half Elf Wizard
Mindartis Liadon - Eladrin Barbarian | Naivara Siannodel - Half Elf Ranger
Arrila Evenwood - Half Elf Paladin | Callaphe of Setessa - Human Rogue
Katernin Nemetsk - Aasimar Cleric | Melody - Tiefling Bard
Krinix, having missed the interaction, is a bit confused by the captain's words, but he sees his new companions already heading off the ship and keeps close to them. He hopes they know where they are going, because he has no idea.
Chroma calmly stares the trio down as they depart the ship before turning around and wading through the mass of adventurers flooding to depart. Making her way to the thinning deck, she nods her head at the captain as he speaks. "Thank you for the fare, captain. I wouldn't expect such cowardly individuals to instigate a fight on fair terms. I appreciate your help - I will certainly need to find my bearings here. Perchance, do you happen to have a map on you to spare? My companions and I," she says, gesturing to the four, "are new to Phlan." No matter the answer, she will similarly aid the seasick Firbolg depart onto land if the aid from the Gith proves to be insufficient.
The captain puts his hands on his hips and smiles reassuringly at Chroma.
"Don't you worry about that, you'll be supplied with everything you'll be needing. Just follow the others and you'll be shown where to go, and if you need passage to any other port on the Moonsea, our charter is just over yonder." he says, pointing at a wheelhouse station down the docks.
"You'd best be going, or you'll get separated from the group. Good luck to you lot."
The last of the crowd descends the gangplank and filters out into a wide open courtyard where dozens of landscapers are busy working away to create a welcoming visitor's hub, planting flowers in stepped beds, trimming grass, shaping hedges and raising lantern poles. Beyond that, a grand project is under way as it seems a large monument was recovered from the former slums to be raised once again. It looks like a kind of light house, only with a thinner main shaft and no top as of yet. Something definitely looks like it once connected to the top of the main support beams. It looks to be the main attraction of this 'visitor's center' that is being built over the old fort barracks which aren't needed anymore.
The human trio of troublemakers have separated from the crowd as they walk down the main drag, towards the merchant's district. No one is kept waiting long before a centaur dressed in fine plate armor appears before the crowd. He bears a splendid banner of the New Phlan crest flying gently on the breeze and stands at rigid, militant attention. In a booming, authoritative voice, he gets the crowd split up into the groups that formed on their own and has any stragglers that were left without a group to file into an interview booth. As the centaur gets closer, it becomes apparent that he has a rider, a middle aged gnome wearing almost comically large glasses writing furiously in a log book. Finally, he approaches the quartet.
"Oh my! What an interesting party. A gith and a firbolg! You have come a long way! Splendid! And not one but two dragonborn! Quite the rarity." the gnome says excitedly as he prepares to write down information.
"Could I get your names and signatures for the logs? It also lets us know that you are aware of the dangers of the frontier and that you are indeed participating in the expedition of your own free will. Just a bit of legal formalities in case the unexpected happens. I'll then show you all to a council representative who will be in charge of giving you your writs of passage, your credit for purchasing expedition goods and assigning you an outpost."
DM, professional illustrator and comic artist, suffering from severe spinal stenosis, married, middle aged, and nerdy.
Krinix steps forward and takes the writing instrument. He writes his name in a steady cursive, Krinix Shiltreth. He had heard that this would be dangerous and had previously come to terms with it, but the official’s reminder has refreshed the issue in his mind.
“Can you tell us more about said dangers? What sort of wild beasts? Antagonistic forces? Environmental dangers? Will we be briefed on any of this?”
Faerieth stares at the writing implement, then the paper where the Bronze Dragonborn had written his name, before taking it in her hands and scratching out in barely legible common, Faerieth.
Elra Skylash - Human Cleric | Vanzaren Tanidoni - Half Elf Wizard
Mindartis Liadon - Eladrin Barbarian | Naivara Siannodel - Half Elf Ranger
Arrila Evenwood - Half Elf Paladin | Callaphe of Setessa - Human Rogue
Katernin Nemetsk - Aasimar Cleric | Melody - Tiefling Bard
Chroma accepts the sheet and entirely forgoes the instrument, choosing to dip a claw in ink and scratch her name directly on the parchment. The instrument would be difficult to hold due to the size of Chroma, and the writing looks surprisingly neat and exact. She thanks the gnome before examining the area they are in and any occupants inside it, taking mental note of exits and the general flow of activity.
The gnome responds to Krinix while the others are signing their names into the record book.
"If you're unfamiliar with the region of the Moonsea, your council representative will be the one who will fill you in on all the dangers you may be facing. Largely, you'll be having to navigate around the leftovers from the seige of New Phlan. While it was years ago, the creatures that the dragon Tyranthraxus drew into service carved out an unnatural niche for themselves in our territory. Strange creatures not native to the area have caused havoc in the Quivering Forest, for instance. But, that's not really my department. I'm just here basically taking attendance, keeping record of who's come and gone and who's.... not coming back."
DM, professional illustrator and comic artist, suffering from severe spinal stenosis, married, middle aged, and nerdy.
Qiran bristles slightly, uncomfortable with the rigid and semi-militant organization. It reminded him too much of home.
"The name is Qiran," he announces as he signs. His signature is smooth, but arcs around as he signs, as if it were part of a larger, invisible circle. He hands the inkpen back to the gnome before stepping back and waiting for further guidance.
Attending Academy until November, slowdown in posts continue.
"Right... reprisentative... who did the Captain say to ask for?... Jarvo... I think..." Faerieth says, remembering the conversation.
Elra Skylash - Human Cleric | Vanzaren Tanidoni - Half Elf Wizard
Mindartis Liadon - Eladrin Barbarian | Naivara Siannodel - Half Elf Ranger
Arrila Evenwood - Half Elf Paladin | Callaphe of Setessa - Human Rogue
Katernin Nemetsk - Aasimar Cleric | Melody - Tiefling Bard
The gnome then looks to Faerieth.
"Jarvo eh? Oh! So you've met Captain Duncan! Very good indeed." the gnome chuckles lightly and leans a bit closer to the four, putting a hand to the side of his mouth in a gesture that says, 'don't go spreading this around'.
"Jarvo is the senior director of the council representatives. With him, you'll actually get a choice about where you'd like to investigate first rather than just being stuck with what's left and told where to go. Sort of a 'first come first served' system. I'll take you to his office myself, if you're all finished signing in." he says, hopping off the centaur's back.
"I'm going to go stretch my legs, Brin. You're relieved." the gnome says as the centaur suddenly jerks to attention and salutes the gnome who barely comes up to his withers.
"Sir, thank you, sir!" the centaur says and canters off down the street, to which the gnome shakes his head slightly with a sigh and a smirk.
DM, professional illustrator and comic artist, suffering from severe spinal stenosis, married, middle aged, and nerdy.
Krinix silently mouths the name "Tyranthraxus" to himself but does not pursue the subject. Instead he regards the monument being erected, pointing at it and asking the gnome,
"What is that, exactly?"
The gnome pauses at Krinix's question in mid-step to look at the monument.
"We're not... entirely certain. While we believe it to simply be an ornamental structure, the way it was constructed suggests that it had a more specific purpose. It's incomplete yet, we're clearly missing some parts, but they'd have to be so large that they won't be able to stay hidden for long. I'm almost certain that it could move in some way. There's a large copper plate over a deep pit that was buried just beneath the street which matches the dimensions of the base of the structure perfectly, so we know it was mounted there once. The pit was probably for drainage to prevent the foundation from listing over time, but it's not wide enough for anyone to go down to investigate." the gnome explains, then gestures about in an eccentric way.
"Yes, yes, I know. A gnome interested in tinkering and ancient machinery, how original."
DM, professional illustrator and comic artist, suffering from severe spinal stenosis, married, middle aged, and nerdy.
Krinix finally remembers that it’s considered polite to ask one’s name. He addresses the gnome,
”Thank you for answering my questions. My name is Krinix. May I ask your name?”
Qiran allows himself a conspiratorial smile - it seemed they would have a leg up on the competition. This was good. He wondered what had earned them this privilege. Sure, the other three had been the most interesting people on the boat and the most impressive at first glance but not all power was externally visible. Maybe one of his new associates had some connections?
"Wise, to investigate this machine. If we have fortune, it is an inert weapon. Or a planar anchor - less fortune, then."
He falls into step alongside the gnome, considering their surroundings as he does so.
"You have been very helpful. How are you called, friend?"
((You and I are gonna simulpost all game, aren't we? XD ))
Attending Academy until November, slowdown in posts continue.
Chroma stands, observing the conversation. She's certainly glad for the turn in events after the captain's recommendation, and while the talk of mechanical instruments and weaponry flew over her head, she was intrigued by the history of the ruins they were about to explore. She silently follows the gnome, observing the vibrant scenery and the bustling surroundings.
The gnome regards both Qiran and Krinix before adjusting his glasses and stopping to bow with a flourish.
"Harken Greenwood, at your service, such as it is. I'm just a lowly clerk in the city council but I do know most of the higher ups personally. I've lived in New Phlan my whole life, though even that was not long enough to see Phlan in its glory days. I've seen both major sieges within the last few centuries and saw Phlan fail to fully reach its rebirth both times. Seems every time we try to stand back up, we get knocked down... but we're a stubborn people, and we'll get back up out of the dirt as many times as we have to." Harken says with some degree of pride.
"This time feels different, however. This is the age of heroes! Who knows what will happen and what will be accomplished? What a time to be alive!" Harken says as he leads the four to a large municipal building. Also likely a converted barracks at one time, its walls have been adorned with Victorian masonry work and flags all proudly flying the New Phlan banner. It also is still under construction. In fact, a great many of the buildings undergoing renovation have an exceedingly welcoming and homey feel. Going inside the building shows that the remodeling extends to the insides as well. While not adorned with expensive or decadent decor, a lot of artistry is on display with carved reliefs in the walls, making the most out of more modest materials. No one from the crowd is there with them, it's just the four with Harken walking through the halls.
(From here on in, if you want me to stop and wait to post until everyone has had a chance to react, just put 'hold' at the end of your post, otherwise I'll respond to posts to keep things moving if you don't feel your character has anything really to contribute. I'm not trying to rush anyone, I'm just trying to keep flow)
DM, professional illustrator and comic artist, suffering from severe spinal stenosis, married, middle aged, and nerdy.
(Thank you, but no need to wait for me, I'm actually in several games including DM'ing one and I'm checking the forums obsessively. If I haven't posted in awhile it's because I don't want to hog all the posting)
Krinix: "Master Greenwood, thank you for the warm welcome to your city. I hope that I can help in some way. When time permits, I would be interested in talking to you more about your experiences during the sieges. That must have been a difficult time - you must have some incredible stories to tell."
Qiran's gaze lingers on the carved reliefs and the subtle but present comforts and decoration. It seemed a sensible idea to not flaunt removable wealth in a town that had known so much strife. Just as sensible was Krinix's inquiry regarding the sieges. Qiran was curious about tall tales of heroism and battle-skill but more curious about how previous defenses had failed.
He opened his mouth to ask his allies about their abilities, but another thought occurred to him first. The workforce was. . . illogical.
"Harken Greenwood, why do you use so many smallfolk for the restorations and constructions? Would humans, orcs, or even dwarves not be better workers? Stronger, better porters?"
Attending Academy until November, slowdown in posts continue.
Harken looks to Krinix then, pivoting and walking backward to face the four as he leads them down the hallway.
"You'd think, but I didn't actually see much of the sieges. Given my stature, my family and I were sequestered into the hold where we mostly just waited for the fighting to be over. I was also quite young when the first siege happened, so I don't remember much of it. The second siege, the hold was actually breached but we had already evacuated into the Quivering Forest where the mistress of the woods agreed to hide us since the council had previously formed--and honoured--a pact where we agreed to not log the forest unless given permission. It was largely, for us, a matter of hiding and waiting."
Harken turns his attention to Qiran, and his expression and demeanor changes on a dime.
"Are they? It's just that kind of a day, we employ all kinds here, they just happen to be working in the same area, is all." he says, turning about sharply to once again lead the group, hands folded behind his back.
(Reposting since this will be on a fresh page--if anyone wants to halt the RP so they don't get left behind or overwhelmed or don't want their 'turn' skipped but can't post right away, just put 'hold' as your whole post. Otherwise, I encourage you all to post at whatever pace you like so we can keep the story moving, and if you need to address something with me, don't be afraid to say so!)
DM, professional illustrator and comic artist, suffering from severe spinal stenosis, married, middle aged, and nerdy.