Giving his large friend a strange look, Atloonde followed the gnome up the stairs. Strange. Just this morning he'd left his last job, intent on resting for a spell. Now here he was joining up for a death wish mission. Guess I wasn't built for the quiet life, he thought. Least he wouldn't get bored this way, he supposed.
Putting on a confident smile, he clapped the gnome ibn the shoulder and said," let's meet the big man. I'm ready to get this going."
Above, the atmosphere has changed completely. The mourners-turned-partiers are now relaxed and comfortably staring off into the unsetting sun; some have even dozed off. Crew members furtively go about their business, so as not to disturb their passengers. Even more furtively, Josam and Lask wink at you in recognition, with an implied glance that seems to say, "We don't know each other, do we, mates?"
"Ah!" says a voice from among the dozing crowd. "If it isn't the 'stowaways'!" Magistrate Sagar approaches with his broad arms wide open, his sleeves hanging like the florid wings of an overgrown inuhoa. He claps his hands on Tramoric's and Atloonde's shoulders as he looks at Nyx. "Young miss Waitara tells me that you can rid us of our rampant tsaeke. We should deal with this before we lose anything more..."
He shakes away his grief and overtly appraises the two. "A fresh young taraskind, and a half-orc... doomsnatched, I'd wager. I expect you need provisions in order to carry out this extermination; an overhead as well." He glances at the shore, where the lights of Marjatta glimmer in the lightly clouded twilight. "I'd prefer we settle on a contract before we reach home, the better to clean up this fiasco." He looks at you expectantly, ready to evaluate your price...
As Tramoric assesses the magistrate's attitude, it does seem odd for someone who has just lost a son, but in context of the general cultural underpinning of Canaille, where such emotions as sadness and fear are often suppressed in mixed company, it's not unforeseen. He does indeed seem concerned with the well being of his people, but without too much fanfare, it seems.
In answer to your question, Magistrate Sagar looks at the sleeping passengers. "I'm afraid my son's friends will likely avoid the wilderness for the time being. They did not fare well in their last venture. If you are looking for hunters, the Smashed Skull may be a good place to start. It's a tavern near the harbor. It's a, erm, rough establishment, but rangers and hunters frequent it often enough that you may find who you need."
"Well, Master Sagar, we will not need too much. Some funds for attracting a worthy mercenary, and I suppose we can discuss an award after we bring proof of the destruction of this creature?" Tramoric nods. "Yes... and Nyx will be coming with us, yes?" He turns to her.
The gnome's face pales for just a moment, but she swallows her anxieties under avid excitement. "Oh yes, of course, if our arrangement still still stands, Magistrate."
"Certainly," he responds. "Do what you will with the remains, so long as there is proof." Turning, the magistrate continues. "I would imagine fifty gold should take care of any initial hirelings or necessities, after which we can settle on other expenses. Do we have a deal?" He extends his hand in a gesture to affirm the contract...
Magistrate Sagar locks eyes with you, smiling with gratitude and relief as he firmly squeezes Tramoric's. "I'm glad to hear it. We look forward to your triumphant return!" He claps Atloonde on his scaled shoulder and gives Nyx a momentary pat on the head-- something she seems to tolerate, but only just-- before conversing with the captain to contact the shore.
Soon thereafter, the Brio returns to Marjatta harbor. The funeral party awakens and debarks, pausing only long enough to say their goodbyes before retiring to their homes. With the dock once again quiet, the Magistrate approaches you. He holds a satchel-- heavily weighted, it seems-- that a courier had brought to him from the city. "This should take care of things. Please contact me as soon as you kill the beast so that we can announce your victory." He bows to you respectfully, then makes his way toward his manor in Marjatta proper...
Congratulations! It is now time to...
Figure out what your new features are for Level 2 so we can press on to our next adventure!
Hefting and adjusting the sack of gold on her shoulder, Nyx eyes the town beyond the harbor. "Where do you think we could find some hunters? Magistrate Sagar said to look in the Smashed Skull, but I don't know if we'll find the clientele there to be very... trustworthy. I mean, I understand why he said to look there-- it's a tough crowd, and frankly, he probably wouldn't mind if some of them fell casualty to the tsaeke-- but... I don't know." The gnome points toward different parts of the town, suggesting paths to other destinations. "Marjatta has more refined establishments: I've visited the Equerry in my time here, and have enjoyed its more sophisticated patronage; and the Windlee is a more rustic setting, where we might find people who know the jungle very well....
"Unless," she continues nervously, jangling the satchel of money and looking over her shoulder, "you didn't really want to hire anyone, and were looking to pocket all of this for yourselves. If you're strong enough to take on the tsaeke yourselves, I understand. But if such is the case, I hope you won't be offended if I keep my distance; the tsaeke can easily get confused with multiple targets-- spoiled for choice, and all that. I'd rather be one of many than one of a few, you get me?"
She bounces on her heels and turns to Atloonde and Tramoric. "So! What's the plan?"
On the trip back home Tramoric spends time in prayer and meditation. And talking with a Atloonde about what brought him to this island.
As they approached the shore, he told the two that he needed to visit Kamau, his crabayo, since he hadn’t expected to be gone to sea for a day and a half.
“But afterward I will meet you in front of the Smashed Skull, and let me know what you’ve decided. Scope out the place, and let me know if we can trust the people there. I’ll be with you shortly.” Tramoric took off toward the stables, walking briskly.
"Okay, see you later!" Nyx waves cheerfully as Tramoric leaves. Once he's gone, she turns to Atloonde. "Um, question: Tramoric seems pretty... religious, right? I mean, how long have you known him? And do you really want to go to the Smashed Skull, or should we check out some of the other places first? I worry about who we might find there..."
[SPLIT PARTY!]
It doesn't take much time for Tramoric to reach the stables. Centrally located at the crossing of two heavily trafficked roads, the dilapidated pickets of the corral seems just one stampede away from destruction. However, the crabayos inside seem well-tempered, only banging their shells against each other to jockey for prime positions at the feed troughs. Kamau is easy to spot, not nearly as polished and pampered as his fellows, and his claws, bound with thick leather bands, are rather conspicuous among the clipped-- or even completely docked-- forelimbs of his companions. Kamau spots you, and moseys over to the crumbling fence with a friendly waggle of his antennae...
Perception: 9
(HAHA!!! It actually rolled an 11!)
Rummaging through the cargo, Tramoric manages to find a brass lantern in the supplies. The red candle fits handily.
Giving his large friend a strange look, Atloonde followed the gnome up the stairs. Strange. Just this morning he'd left his last job, intent on resting for a spell. Now here he was joining up for a death wish mission. Guess I wasn't built for the quiet life, he thought. Least he wouldn't get bored this way, he supposed.
Putting on a confident smile, he clapped the gnome ibn the shoulder and said," let's meet the big man. I'm ready to get this going."
Tramoric fastens the lantern at his waist, and follows the two of them up to the deck.
Above, the atmosphere has changed completely. The mourners-turned-partiers are now relaxed and comfortably staring off into the unsetting sun; some have even dozed off. Crew members furtively go about their business, so as not to disturb their passengers. Even more furtively, Josam and Lask wink at you in recognition, with an implied glance that seems to say, "We don't know each other, do we, mates?"
"Ah!" says a voice from among the dozing crowd. "If it isn't the 'stowaways'!" Magistrate Sagar approaches with his broad arms wide open, his sleeves hanging like the florid wings of an overgrown inuhoa. He claps his hands on Tramoric's and Atloonde's shoulders as he looks at Nyx. "Young miss Waitara tells me that you can rid us of our rampant tsaeke. We should deal with this before we lose anything more..."
He shakes away his grief and overtly appraises the two. "A fresh young taraskind, and a half-orc... doomsnatched, I'd wager. I expect you need provisions in order to carry out this extermination; an overhead as well." He glances at the shore, where the lights of Marjatta glimmer in the lightly clouded twilight. "I'd prefer we settle on a contract before we reach home, the better to clean up this fiasco." He looks at you expectantly, ready to evaluate your price...
Tramoric looks to Atloonde, and then to the magistrate, whose mood seems a bit incongruent with the trip. Insight: 7 (LOL)
"I think we may like to hire a few hunters around the island, unless you already have a willing troupe that would go with us?"
As Tramoric assesses the magistrate's attitude, it does seem odd for someone who has just lost a son, but in context of the general cultural underpinning of Canaille, where such emotions as sadness and fear are often suppressed in mixed company, it's not unforeseen. He does indeed seem concerned with the well being of his people, but without too much fanfare, it seems.
In answer to your question, Magistrate Sagar looks at the sleeping passengers. "I'm afraid my son's friends will likely avoid the wilderness for the time being. They did not fare well in their last venture. If you are looking for hunters, the Smashed Skull may be a good place to start. It's a tavern near the harbor. It's a, erm, rough establishment, but rangers and hunters frequent it often enough that you may find who you need."
"Well, Master Sagar, we will not need too much. Some funds for attracting a worthy mercenary, and I suppose we can discuss an award after we bring proof of the destruction of this creature?" Tramoric nods. "Yes... and Nyx will be coming with us, yes?" He turns to her.
The gnome's face pales for just a moment, but she swallows her anxieties under avid excitement. "Oh yes, of course, if our arrangement still still stands, Magistrate."
"Certainly," he responds. "Do what you will with the remains, so long as there is proof." Turning, the magistrate continues. "I would imagine fifty gold should take care of any initial hirelings or necessities, after which we can settle on other expenses. Do we have a deal?" He extends his hand in a gesture to affirm the contract...
Tramoric reaches his hand forward and shakes the man's hand. "Thank you, sir. We will avenge the lives of those who have fallen to this creature."
Magistrate Sagar locks eyes with you, smiling with gratitude and relief as he firmly squeezes Tramoric's. "I'm glad to hear it. We look forward to your triumphant return!" He claps Atloonde on his scaled shoulder and gives Nyx a momentary pat on the head-- something she seems to tolerate, but only just-- before conversing with the captain to contact the shore.
Soon thereafter, the Brio returns to Marjatta harbor. The funeral party awakens and debarks, pausing only long enough to say their goodbyes before retiring to their homes. With the dock once again quiet, the Magistrate approaches you. He holds a satchel-- heavily weighted, it seems-- that a courier had brought to him from the city. "This should take care of things. Please contact me as soon as you kill the beast so that we can announce your victory." He bows to you respectfully, then makes his way toward his manor in Marjatta proper...
Congratulations! It is now time to...
Figure out what your new features are for Level 2 so we can press on to our next adventure!
Hefting and adjusting the sack of gold on her shoulder, Nyx eyes the town beyond the harbor. "Where do you think we could find some hunters? Magistrate Sagar said to look in the Smashed Skull, but I don't know if we'll find the clientele there to be very... trustworthy. I mean, I understand why he said to look there-- it's a tough crowd, and frankly, he probably wouldn't mind if some of them fell casualty to the tsaeke-- but... I don't know." The gnome points toward different parts of the town, suggesting paths to other destinations. "Marjatta has more refined establishments: I've visited the Equerry in my time here, and have enjoyed its more sophisticated patronage; and the Windlee is a more rustic setting, where we might find people who know the jungle very well....
"Unless," she continues nervously, jangling the satchel of money and looking over her shoulder, "you didn't really want to hire anyone, and were looking to pocket all of this for yourselves. If you're strong enough to take on the tsaeke yourselves, I understand. But if such is the case, I hope you won't be offended if I keep my distance; the tsaeke can easily get confused with multiple targets-- spoiled for choice, and all that. I'd rather be one of many than one of a few, you get me?"
She bounces on her heels and turns to Atloonde and Tramoric. "So! What's the plan?"
On the trip back home Tramoric spends time in prayer and meditation. And talking with a Atloonde about what brought him to this island.
As they approached the shore, he told the two that he needed to visit Kamau, his crabayo, since he hadn’t expected to be gone to sea for a day and a half.
“But afterward I will meet you in front of the Smashed Skull, and let me know what you’ve decided. Scope out the place, and let me know if we can trust the people there. I’ll be with you shortly.” Tramoric took off toward the stables, walking briskly.
"Okay, see you later!" Nyx waves cheerfully as Tramoric leaves. Once he's gone, she turns to Atloonde. "Um, question: Tramoric seems pretty... religious, right? I mean, how long have you known him? And do you really want to go to the Smashed Skull, or should we check out some of the other places first? I worry about who we might find there..."
[SPLIT PARTY!]
It doesn't take much time for Tramoric to reach the stables. Centrally located at the crossing of two heavily trafficked roads, the dilapidated pickets of the corral seems just one stampede away from destruction. However, the crabayos inside seem well-tempered, only banging their shells against each other to jockey for prime positions at the feed troughs. Kamau is easy to spot, not nearly as polished and pampered as his fellows, and his claws, bound with thick leather bands, are rather conspicuous among the clipped-- or even completely docked-- forelimbs of his companions. Kamau spots you, and moseys over to the crumbling fence with a friendly waggle of his antennae...