(waiting on each of you to tell me what name you write on the ledger and if you do anything else of note as you enter)
As your companions scrawl their names and hand over the extortionate gate fee, your gaze drifts beyond the walls. Sails ripple against the horizon, tall masts jutting skyward where the city meets the Western Ocean. Dozens of ships lie at anchor in the harbour, their hulls groaning with cargo and secrets. Another breath of the air—rank with rot, salt, and the promise of trouble—snaps you back to your present predicament.
As you pay the guards and sign your name in the ledger, you are issued a city pass. The guard at the book says,
"This city is ruled by Lord Azzur and he not a very tolerant man. When you rule over a city like this, you must be that way or you die. I should warn you that if you don't have this pass with you at all times, you are as good as dead."
As the guards see you complying, they lower their aggression somewhat. However, a sharp eye notes two or three additional guards in a tower at the top of the gate, with crossbows loosely trained toward the entrance. Lira is able with fast hands to trick the guard as she slides the (4/5) gold into his bag.
Iólinder's blessing does not go unnoticed. "Thanks believer." the guard says. "I hope it works as my son is sick with the whooping cough."
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(waiting on each of you to tell me what name you write on the ledger and if you do anything else of note as you enter)
As your companions scrawl their names and hand over the extortionate gate fee, your gaze drifts beyond the walls. Sails ripple against the horizon, tall masts jutting skyward where the city meets the Western Ocean. Dozens of ships lie at anchor in the harbour, their hulls groaning with cargo and secrets. Another breath of the air—rank with rot, salt, and the promise of trouble—snaps you back to your present predicament.
As you pay the guards and sign your name in the ledger, you are issued a city pass. The guard at the book says,
"This city is ruled by Lord Azzur and he not a very tolerant man. When you rule over a city like this, you must be that way or you die. I should warn you that if you don't have this pass with you at all times, you are as good as dead."
"Iólinder Corrach, of Libra, of Telak" in stylised cursive.
Will pay 5 gold as I offer a blessing to the guard's health and family.
As the guards see you complying, they lower their aggression somewhat. However, a sharp eye notes two or three additional guards in a tower at the top of the gate, with crossbows loosely trained toward the entrance.
Lira is able with fast hands to trick the guard as she slides the (4/5) gold into his bag.
Iólinder's blessing does not go unnoticed. "Thanks believer." the guard says. "I hope it works as my son is sick with the whooping cough."