Varielky stands for a moment listening to the story-teller. She was not accustomed to this type of living. Since the day she was discharged, she was doing... well... nothing. At first, she went to the temple dedicated to Takal Demesh, but she didn't stay there for long. The priests there made similar customs as her adopting father did, but also many different things. They worshipped the same god, but eventually, it was a different religion, in a way. She still came by occasionally, but not very frequently.
For the first few days, Varielky would wear her armour and weapons wherever she went. It didn't look like the folks felt at ease when they noticed a Dreyen-looking fighter wearing armour and carrying weapons entering their shops or looking at their stands. Though almost none of them said it directly to Varielky, she noticed their vigilant looks and how some would even reach down to make sure their old sword is still there if they need it. Eventually, she rented a small, cheap room where she could leave most of her equipment. Aside from her clothes and a small pouch for coins, the only thing she's carrying with her is her shield, always on her back so she can reach it in a moment's notice. Many things could be used as weapons in a pinch, but a shield is something you lay your life behind, she had to know it's not a random piece of wood she found that might break any moment.
Varielky doesn't like sitting around and doing nothing. Less than four days since her discharge had passed and she's already scouting the city for job boards and rumours, anything she can do. She doesn't just walk around though. If there's nothing else to do, she would at least train herself. So instead of walking, she's running around the town. Since she's in many places, the character might notice her passing by. A human running around town with a shield is probably not that common, after all. If they do meet, it'd be the first time they see her without her armour on and her hair not braided. She might almost look like another person if it weren't for the obvious shield and the many scars that are visible on her arms and legs. There are so many, in fact, that it seems rather peculiar that her face, which you can finally see without the helmet on, are entirely scar-free. Then again, they were probably just protected by both her helmet and her shield. After all, not many take a hit to the head and live to tell the tale.
RP#1
Varielky seems drawn to the Champions district, and finds an open room in a common house in a five-story building facing the city wall above a Dwarven smithy, where the sounds of activity at dawn -- ingots being dropped off, garrison staff placing orders, the forges heating up, and the impeccable beat of the anvil -- allow no late mornings.
Rising early to this hubbub, Varielky sees many fighters also up and jogging the streets. Garrison squads, guards, and sometimes individuals, sometimes with children giving chase, asking for handouts, or accompanying a parent.
Although Varielky’s bearing is Dreyen, the block’s residents don’t raise an eyebrow, they’ve seen many a warrior come and go to this area, usually with one eye focused on the arena, and most have never seen a Dreyen and couldn’t say what one looks like. It is the veterans of the provincial brigade who saw active duty in The North whose blood seems to boil when they see her pass. But they are few, and most residents go about their daily business.
Varielky enjoys running in the early morning, before most of the city is awake, thus avoiding crowds and maintaining a good pace. Also, the winter mornings are chilly, and working up a sweat refreshes her. In this way, she sees much of the city. When she returns, jogging past the arena, she finds the great gates open. Guards and garrison are undergoing their annual trials, a few each day, demonstrating their continued mastery of arms with wooden practice weapons, or with steel.
A guard stands at the entry, and to her inquires, Varielky learns that she may enter and watch practice if she wishes, although if she wants to do more than that, she’ll have to speak with the arena manager’s assistant, a heavy-set youngish Orracan wearing a sky blue djinni-like outfit topped by an indigo turban worn at a rakish slant, who sits in the stands, casually sketching entries in a large ledger with a fancy quill pen.
((OOC: Sorry about all those assumptions. Anyways, I was looking specifically for Comprehend Languages, Protection from Good and Evil, False Life, and Mage Armor. Honestly, Mittens would be fine with learning any new spells.))
Seeing the High Priest walk by, Mittens hastily follows him. This probably breaks about a million protocols, but oh well,He thinks to himself as he approaches. "Um, Mister High Priest guy? I'm a bit of a Necromancy buff, and I, um, I was wondering if I could, uh, check out your library or something if you had one. I really need to learn some new magic, but everywhere else is closed to me. If you want payment or something, I could do some work for you... " He trails off awkwardly as he realizes he started to ramble.
After thanking the guard, Varielky will go up to the stands. She tries to get as close as posdible, hopefully close enough that she can talk with him. Until she finds something better to do, sparring in the arena will at least maintain her skills, if not hone them better. If they also pay, that would be ecen better, but it's not as important.
Before approaching, Varielky organizes her hair - even if she doesn't have anything to tie it with, at least that it wouldn't look messy after jogging. She also tries to determine how she smells - the smell of sweat - the best smell a fighter could have. She remembered some girl once told her that it's not how she should smell when meeting anyone, but that girl also never tried swinging a sword either. What would she know?
Ednyss cracks his neck as he steps out into the bustling city of Ishi Ammah. Walking through the stalls, Ednyss refamiliarizes himself with the market before heading straight to the Champion's District to pay his respects at the temple of Takal Demesh. Upon entering, he introduces himself to the priests as they may have changed since he was last here, two years ago and recites a small prayer.
After paying his respects, he feels his emblem pulse with power as a surge of divine power runs through him, and he feels the grace of Takal Demesh power through his body once again. His emotions are mixed, he is pleased to no longer have to serve under a commander that was not dwarven, but his happiness was tinged with sadness now that he was relegated to a life without war. Nevertheless, with this new surge of energy, Ednyss wanders into the sizeable dwarven community around the Arena and requested lodging. Not needing much, just a simple place to rest his head at the end of the day, Ednyss heads to the home of Ingrid. Ingrid was a fellow immigrant from the Core of Onyx and she and Ednyss had become fast friends before Ednyss left for the military. She works with iron and owns a small smithy shop on a street corner. While she is far from the best armorer in the Champion's District, her specialty is War Pick's and that is what had originally drawn Ednyss to her. He asks for and receives lodging in the spare room above her shop and the two friends spend the rest of the week acquanting themselves with each other's exploits for the last two years. After settling in for a few days, Ednyss begins to feel antsy, and his severance pay isn't going to last forever so he begins to search for a job working the concessions at the Arena. With his skill regarding pots and pans, as well his talent with alcoholic beverages, it shouldn't be difficult to earn a living.
Everyday, Ednyss wakes up before the crack of dawn and spends an hour performing his own rituals at the temple of Takal Demesh and assisting any priests there with their own rituals. Once he has secured a job, he will work for most of the day, but will come back down to eat his mid-afternoon meal with Ingrid and perhaps offer pointers with her smithing as well as continue to regale each other with (tall) tales of their journeys. Once the meal is complete, he heads back to work in the Arena where may perhaps also get the chance to witness a fight. In the evenings, Ednyss creeps quietly into The Docks where he wanders until he finds a casino or tavern that promotes gambling and tries to earn some money off of the poor sailors and dock workers in the area. Every night he comes back to Ingrid's shop where he rests until it is time to rise in the morning and pay his respects once again.
(OOC: A few notes. 1) He might run into Varielky either at the temple of Takal Demesh or see her on one of her runs around the arena. 2) I assumed that there would be some sort of concessions at the arena for people that were watching (like a sports stadium), if not, then Ednyss can do any other odd jobs around the arena that need doing. 3) I'm not sure how we could determine how Ednyss's gambling went (we could do a series of rolls?) but otherwise I can just say that I averaged out breaking even. 4) I included Ingrid of my own volition given that there was a sizeable dwarven community in the Champion's District and it makes sense that Ednyss might have made a friend in the time he spent in Ishi Ammah before being drafted for service. 5) We can RP Ednyss getting a job, meeting Ingrid again, going to the Temple of Takal Demesh, finding a place to gamble, or any other event that you see fit, I just described Ednyss's actions as a whole and his intentions, let me know if we need to stop at any point to resolve something.)
Ka’imi walks through the market noting the vendors and what they’re selling. Are there traders for goods he might be able to procure?
The year of conscription in the army was something he considers returning to, but those true soldiers didn’t ever make it feel like they were well paid, well fed, or well treated.
Walking past the gates and out of the city into the outskirts it feels like opportunity. This is a vast new area he‘s explored but not really taken advantage of. Now, without the yoke of soldier hood about him there’s a chance to live off the land, and build a small cache of furs, herbs and edible plants that can be traded in the market when the need arises.
The train ride and his companions cross his mind sometimes in the evening before light’s end. Such a difficult and bloody battle and that frost giant’s massive club has shook him out of a deep sleep more than a few times. Constant practicing with the longbow and the arrows that can be crafted from castoff branches and twigs on the ground. These aren’t the same and The Tree but they’re getting better for his purposes, or more likely he’s adapting to this new terrain away from The Tree and his people.
A modest shelter is built in a clump of trees about a kilometer from town. A few hours of archery every day mixed with trapping, and fishing, and gathering makes for full but simple living. The nagging feeling begins to pull at him, should he be doing more with his life? Is this what would make Caudle proud of him? A stack of furs ready for trading, and a few large packs of herbs are ready for a trip to the market. After this stretch of seeing only a few people every day moving through the forest (and engaging with even fewer) it’s going to be a big change back in the city.
((OOC: Sorry about all those assumptions. Anyways, I was looking specifically for Comprehend Languages, Protection from Good and Evil, False Life, and Mage Armor. Honestly, Mittens would be fine with learning any new spells.))
Seeing the High Priest walk by, Mittens hastily follows him. This probably breaks about a million protocols, but oh well,He thinks to himself as he approaches. "Um, Mister High Priest guy? I'm a bit of a Necromancy buff, and I, um, I was wondering if I could, uh, check out your library or something if you had one. I really need to learn some new magic, but everywhere else is closed to me. If you want payment or something, I could do some work for you... " He trails off awkwardly as he realizes he started to ramble.
The High Priest’s form embodies the shape of a long broomstick held upside down, with its bristles pointing upward and curving to one side after long use. Tall and thin, with very dark violet skin, and over six feet in height, Abbas Adil, whose name you learn later, wears a conical black hat of shiny silk, which flares slightly at the top, and from which dangle tassels at either side. The sigil of death is embroidered on the front of his long , ashen robe, and he wears an armless cloak of brown-embroidered satin over that.
As mittens speaks, the High Priest slows, seeming at first as if he would continue on while leaving one of his acolytes to deal with your questions. However Abbas Adil sees you out of the corner of his eye, does a double take, then tilts his head inquisitively, looking something like a scarecrow dangling from a noose and invitesMittens to join him for a cup of coffee in chambers. He will answer your questions and has a few of his own, he says.
Do you join him?
(OOC: no worries about assumptions, we’re just feeling things out as we go!)
Ednyss cracks his neck as he steps out into the bustling city of Ishi Ammah. Walking through the stalls, Ednyss refamiliarizes himself with the market before heading straight to the Champion's District to pay his respects at the temple of Takal Demesh. Upon entering, he introduces himself to the priests as they may have changed since he was last here, two years ago and recites a small prayer.
After paying his respects, he feels his emblem pulse with power as a surge of divine power runs through him, and he feels the grace of Takal Demesh power through his body once again. His emotions are mixed, he is pleased to no longer have to serve under a commander that was not dwarven, but his happiness was tinged with sadness now that he was relegated to a life without war. Nevertheless, with this new surge of energy, Ednyss wanders into the sizeable dwarven community around the Arena and requested lodging. Not needing much, just a simple place to rest his head at the end of the day, Ednyss heads to the home of Ingrid. Ingrid was a fellow immigrant from the Core of Onyx and she and Ednyss had become fast friends before Ednyss left for the military. She works with iron and owns a small smithy shop on a street corner. While she is far from the best armorer in the Champion's District, her specialty is War Pick's and that is what had originally drawn Ednyss to her. He asks for and receives lodging in the spare room above her shop and the two friends spend the rest of the week acquanting themselves with each other's exploits for the last two years. After settling in for a few days, Ednyss begins to feel antsy, and his severance pay isn't going to last forever so he begins to search for a job working the concessions at the Arena. With his skill regarding pots and pans, as well his talent with alcoholic beverages, it shouldn't be difficult to earn a living.
Everyday, Ednyss wakes up before the crack of dawn and spends an hour performing his own rituals at the temple of Takal Demesh and assisting any priests there with their own rituals. Once he has secured a job, he will work for most of the day, but will come back down to eat his mid-afternoon meal with Ingrid and perhaps offer pointers with her smithing as well as continue to regale each other with (tall) tales of their journeys. Once the meal is complete, he heads back to work in the Arena where may perhaps also get the chance to witness a fight. In the evenings, Ednyss creeps quietly into The Docks where he wanders until he finds a casino or tavern that promotes gambling and tries to earn some money off of the poor sailors and dock workers in the area. Every night he comes back to Ingrid's shop where he rests until it is time to rise in the morning and pay his respects once again.
(OOC: A few notes. 1) He might run into Varielky either at the temple of Takal Demesh or see her on one of her runs around the arena. 2) I assumed that there would be some sort of concessions at the arena for people that were watching (like a sports stadium), if not, then Ednyss can do any other odd jobs around the arena that need doing. 3) I'm not sure how we could determine how Ednyss's gambling went (we could do a series of rolls?) but otherwise I can just say that I averaged out breaking even. 4) I included Ingrid of my own volition given that there was a sizeable dwarven community in the Champion's District and it makes sense that Ednyss might have made a friend in the time he spent in Ishi Ammah before being drafted for service. 5) We can RP Ednyss getting a job, meeting Ingrid again, going to the Temple of Takal Demesh, finding a place to gamble, or any other event that you see fit, I just described Ednyss's actions as a whole and his intentions, let me know if we need to stop at any point to resolve something.)
Ednyss enters the temple of Takal Demesh and the other priests, Ikram and Quisa, recognize him, as do several acolytes who were in temple when Ednyss was here before his term of service.
Indeed, Ednyss’ return is celebrated and they chide him for not sending letters in advance to inform them of his coming return.
The High Priest is in Fa Tehesi and will return in a week or so, and, the other acolytes tell Ednyss, he will certainly wish to see his erstwhile acolyte.
Ikram asks where Ednyss is staying. He apologizes, and offers that although there is no room for Ednyss in the temple lodgings right now, due to a larger-than-expected delegation of Dwarven priests from Kalahatha having come for the Dwarven New Year celebration (which Dwarves celebrate on mid-winter’s day), and having then extended their stay. But they will soon depart, and a room will be available for Ednyss if he wants it, in another week’s time.
Ingrid is overjoyed to see you. She has a small specialty smithy, and has cornered the market for war picks and hammers in Orraca u Shia. “You know Ednyss, it’s like a pool of magma. Always shifting, always the same. That’s how we all are here in Ishi Ammah. I am so very glad to see you, my old friend.”
At the Arena, the next Great Games will take place in two week’s time. In the meanwhile, the city guard and garrison train on the floor there every day, and perform their annual trials. You may watch, says a guard, but if you wish to do more, you’ll need to speak to the manager’s assistant, a heavy-set youngish Orracan wearing a sky blue djinni-like outfit topped by an indigo turban worn at a rakish slant, who sits in the 2nd row of the stands, casually sketching entries in a large ledger with a fancy quill pen.
There are a few small eateries facing the arena which are open year-round. You arrive mid-day, and guards and workers from the arena and a local armorer’s shop stand in line to order a slice of leavened bread covered with bean paste and meats. Your turn in line comes, and you offer your services, but neither place is hiring.
(OOC: For gambling, let’s assume you break even for now, and that you’re keeping your bets small and really just trying to regain your bearings. Does Ednyss play fair?)
(OOC, all good for your points 1-5. I’ll tell you if you cross paths w Varielky. Keep in mind that your arrivals are on different days.)
Ka’imi walks through the market noting the vendors and what they’re selling. Are there traders for goods he might be able to procure?
The year of conscription in the army was something he considers returning to, but those true soldiers didn’t ever make it feel like they were well paid, well fed, or well treated.
Walking past the gates and out of the city into the outskirts it feels like opportunity. This is a vast new area he‘s explored but not really taken advantage of. Now, without the yoke of soldier hood about him there’s a chance to live off the land, and build a small cache of furs, herbs and edible plants that can be traded in the market when the need arises.
The train ride and his companions cross his mind sometimes in the evening before light’s end. Such a difficult and bloody battle and that frost giant’s massive club has shook him out of a deep sleep more than a few times. Constant practicing with the longbow and the arrows that can be crafted from castoff branches and twigs on the ground. These aren’t the same and The Tree but they’re getting better for his purposes, or more likely he’s adapting to this new terrain away from The Tree and his people.
A modest shelter is built in a clump of trees about a kilometer from town. A few hours of archery every day mixed with trapping, and fishing, and gathering makes for full but simple living. The nagging feeling begins to pull at him, should he be doing more with his life? Is this what would make Caudle proud of him? A stack of furs ready for trading, and a few large packs of herbs are ready for a trip to the market. After this stretch of seeing only a few people every day moving through the forest (and engaging with even fewer) it’s going to be a big change back in the city.
RP #1
While at the Markets, Ka'imi notices clothing vendors selling garments which include furs and feathers from local creatures. Seeking a place outside of the city where he can set up as a trapper, Ka'imi heads out on the inland road along the river. One kilometer, two, three...every bit of arable land seems covered in farms feeding the great populace of Ishi Ammah. However, continuing on with energetic strides, the young elf finds a small forest some 5 miles inland, and in this environment, Ka'imi is at home and knows he could survive indefinitely off the land, feeding himself and accessing drinking water. He spends a full day's time among the junipers, hawthornes, and pistachio trees listening, observing, and communing with the living earth, from the tips of the tree's root systems up to their crowns, and out to the edge of the woods. While in this semi-meditative state, he smells and hears species of ground squirrels, wild goat-like sheep with orange-hued fur and small foxes called Fennecs. The latter's fur was used for glove and hat linings he saw being sold for a high price at the markets; squirrel fur was also used for less pricey gloves and boots.
(OOC: for hunting/trapping beyond what you need to survive, please roll a series of 3 survival rolls per day. If there are other skills whose use you can describe in supporting your trapping endeavors, tell me how you want to employ them, and make one separate roll for each one. How many days do you want to try to build up an inventory of furs to sell? Do you already know how to skin an animal in such a way that the coat is preserved perfectly?)
“Sure thing, Priest,” Mittens responds. As he follows behind him, Mittens suddenly feels inadequate if his clothing. He pats himself down, trying to clean himself up a bit. Should have dressed up, he thinks.
“Sure thing, Priest,” Mittens responds. As he follows behind him, Mittens suddenly feels inadequate if his clothing. He pats himself down, trying to clean himself up a bit. Should have dressed up, he thinks.
((OOC: what style of clothing do Cats wear?))
(OOC: I think Mittens has not spent time among Cats, much, as an adult. Cats in The Estates wear ornate, embroidered clothing, colorful, frilly, and they really enjoy scalding remarks about each other's clothing choices. The family he's staying with mostly just wear regular street clothes, and they're not that into backbiting. The influence of humans, perhaps. What is Mittens wearing, again?)
Ednyss greets the other priests with enthusiasm and tells Ikram not to worry about lodgings for now as he is staying with a friend. He apologizes profusely for not sending letters, but points to the large scar left by the wolf bite on his left bicep and the bruises that remain from the axe that hit his torso. While the wounds have healed, the scars of battle remain, and Ednyss is more than happy to show off (and greatly embellish the story) while telling the other priests, "If you think this looks bad, you should have seen the other side. The Dreyen's did not stand a chance, for the grace of Takal Demesh was on our side. However, the Dreyen that fought bravely may yet find peace with him above." Once he is done talking to the other acolytes, he pulls Ikram aside and lets the priest know that he will be around in the mornings and to let him know when the High Priest is arriving in the hopes that Ednyss may see him.
After reconnecting with the other acolytes at the temple, and failing to find a job immediately in the eateries around the arena, Ednyss spends the next few days watching fights in the arena and volunteering to help Ingrid however he can. Although he is nowhere near as talented as her with a hammer and anvil, he knows his way around a smithy and his divine magic allows him to repair certain small pieces more quickly than would be possible with a forge. Really Ednyss just pitches in however he can to show his appreciation for letting him stay with her. After a couple of days of observing the fights, Ednyss approaches the manager's assistant with a request. Loathe to be working for another non-dwarf even outside of the military, he is hesitant to ask for a job, but he knows "Hello sir. I understand that the Great Games are approaching and that you may be in need of a few extra pairs of arms around here. I also heard that you were the man to talk to if one was interested in a job at the Arena. Is there something that I might be able to do for you?"
(OOC: Breaking even for now sounds good and it simplifies things, although I would like to be able to make some money eventually... Ednyss will always play fair, although he is very talented at reading other people's intentions in card games (Passive Insight 17) and will sometimes draw upon the divine power bestowed upon him by Takal Demesh if the stakes were ever to grow too high.)
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
“The mark of a successful DM is when you have caused more player deaths with doors than dragons, demons, or devils.”
“Sure thing, Priest,” Mittens responds. As he follows behind him, Mittens suddenly feels inadequate if his clothing. He pats himself down, trying to clean himself up a bit. Should have dressed up, he thinks.
((OOC: what style of clothing do Cats wear?))
RP #3
Mittens follows the the Learned One, Abbas Adil, High Priest of Moeitu, and his retinue out of the public area of the temple, through a side door, and into the dark living quarters, lit only by a few candles. An ornate door at the end of the hallway leads to a wide room, with a low formal table on a beautifully carpeted floor, with comfortable pillows for sitting. The chamber is decorated with ornate artwork, and delicate carvings in its wooden partitions stand below high windows which throw a warm, diffuse light into the room. More candles are quietly lit by one of the acolytes, a young man with flying cheekbones, big buck teeth, and sleepy-looking eyes. He moves in and out of the room with grace, returning with a small coffee pot which is placed over the fire and slowly its smell brings brightness to the Learned One’s eyes as he speaks.
“First, I will answer your question, young cat. Our library is not a public one, and so I am afraid that you may not peruse its holdings, most especially given that the Implacable One, The Balancer’s rites do not seem to provoke your interest as much as purely self-interested desire to take what you can without regard to your own devotions.” Here he pauses, removing his high cylindrical hat carefully and placing it atop an abstract bust, then removing his cloak and leaving only the black robe.
He explains, “the robes of office serve only to help the common people focus. And focus they must, no? I was called this morning to administer last rites to a devotee of this temple who for twenty years has always offered prayers and sacrifices on holy days, one whose life gained meaning from her connection to The Implacable One, one who gave generously to allow our temple to continue offering solace.”
The acolyte returns and pours you each a small cup of very dark coffee. The Learned One continues, “However, I find you to be a curiosity. There is something about you, something felt but not seen, which draws me to speak with you. Perhaps Moeitu has sent you here for a reason." And, looking directly at you, he presses on, "What might that reason be?”
Ednyss greets the other priests with enthusiasm and tells Ikram not to worry about lodgings for now as he is staying with a friend. He apologizes profusely for not sending letters, but points to the large scar left by the wolf bite on his left bicep and the bruises that remain from the axe that hit his torso. While the wounds have healed, the scars of battle remain, and Ednyss is more than happy to show off (and greatly embellish the story) while telling the other priests, "If you think this looks bad, you should have seen the other side. The Dreyen's did not stand a chance, for the grace of Takal Demesh was on our side. However, the Dreyen that fought bravely may yet find peace with him above." Once he is done talking to the other acolytes, he pulls Ikram aside and lets the priest know that he will be around in the mornings and to let him know when the High Priest is arriving in the hopes that Ednyss may see him.
After reconnecting with the other acolytes at the temple, and failing to find a job immediately in the eateries around the arena, Ednyss spends the next few days watching fights in the arena and volunteering to help Ingrid however he can. Although he is nowhere near as talented as her with a hammer and anvil, he knows his way around a smithy and his divine magic allows him to repair certain small pieces more quickly than would be possible with a forge. Really Ednyss just pitches in however he can to show his appreciation for letting him stay with her. After a couple of days of observing the fights, Ednyss approaches the manager's assistant with a request. Loathe to be working for another non-dwarf even outside of the military, he is hesitant to ask for a job, but he knows "Hello sir. I understand that the Great Games are approaching and that you may be in need of a few extra pairs of arms around here. I also heard that you were the man to talk to if one was interested in a job at the Arena. Is there something that I might be able to do for you?"
(OOC: Breaking even for now sounds good and it simplifies things, although I would like to be able to make some money eventually... Ednyss will always play fair, although he is very talented at reading other people's intentions in card games (Passive Insight 17) and will sometimes draw upon the divine power bestowed upon him by Takal Demesh if the stakes were ever to grow too high.)
RP #2
At the arena, you see the garrison fighters taking their trials. Most of them are Khazaran -- from the lands immediately west of Orraca u Shia, across the mountains on the far coast -- and many of them are about on par with you in terms of their combat skills, although some are far better. They tend to prefer great swords, glaives, and other two-handed weapons, and they favor strength over agility. They are disliked by the city residents, but given plenty of room. The guards use batons and hand crossbows, and there is greater variety among them in terms of experience. Some, you could imagine besting, others, you’re not sure. Some move with unexpected speed and self-assurance.
After taking in the trials, you pose your request to the large djinn-dressed manager’s assistant. As you draw closer, you see that the ledger he writes into is well-worn, though not particularly old. In fact, although he is already writing in a middle page, you would guess the leather cover is no more aged than two moon’s time. You glance briefly at the open leaves, for he does not turn to you immediately but finishes what he had been writing -- or sketching, rather. It is a nicely-drawn illustration of a melee taking place in the arena, four fighters dressed like Bakar Elite, versus six dressed as ragged Dreyen barbarians. Below that is what you recognize as a betting table, with some amounts already filled in on thin ledger lines. There are names listed, too, on the table, some of which seem familiar, but you don’t quite have time to take it all in before the orracan turns to you.
Shutting the ledger and placing his quill behind an ear in smooth motions, he raises an eyebrow disdainfully and wonders aloud, “Why must I answer the same questions, day in and day out?” He then focuses on a point directly above your right shoulder and continues, “Do you realize that I have been managing this arena for ten years? And that we have games here almost every month, sometimes twice per month? And that somehow, Some. How. I have managed to get the crowd fed, even without your help? For ten years?” He shakes his head slowly and motions for the guard to approach. “Do you know how that happens, dwarf? It happens because of planning. Plan. Ning.” And to the guard, he says, “get this one outfitted as a sweeper for the Beauty Pageant. Wait.” He frowns and now looks you over up and down very carefully, eyes assessing your build and stance. He addresses the guard again. “No. Add him to security. For section...12.” And he waves you away.
The guard walks you back toward the entry gates, and then through a side door to the enormous office and storage spaces under the arena, through a veritable maze of long curving corridors, until you reach a small room deep in the bowels of the edifice, filled with stacks of ledgers on shelves and falling off of shelves, inhabited by a chimp in tunic and vest sitting behind a table covered in loose papers and half unrolled scrolls. The chimp looks over his spectacles as the guard repeats the Manager’s Assistant’s instructions (you hear the chimp refer to the mananger's assistant as Mr. Abadolla, carefully enunciating “MISter”) and you are hired. You are to be at the gates at sunup on the first day of March (“Beauty”). Your name and address are taken down in another ledger.
When you return to your lodgings, Ingrid is impressed and very grateful for the assistance you can give her, and she cracks open a bottle of old Whiskey imported from Core of Onyx to celebrate your achievement with you.
Will you then head to the Docks to see if your luck holds in games of Slaughterhouse?
(OOC: This would be an opportunity to RP a night in the Docks.)
((OOC: Currently, Mittens is wearing a simple pair of tan pants rolled up to his midcalf. He wears no shoes as he has padded feet. He wears a sleeveless vest that is a creamy yellow color that dangles open (I'm getting an ancient Mediterranean-Middle East vibe from the city.) Since it has been relatively chilly in the city lately, he also has his hooded green cloak wrapped around him. He has a leather satchel of sorts that he slings over a shoulder that normally holds his book. He doesn't really have a sense for fashion. He pretty much throws on whatever is clean.))
Mittens deflates a bit as he hears he can't snoop around in this library either. He half-hears the rest of Abbis Adil's conversation as a sense of defeat wells up inside him. He ignores the cup of coffee in front of him as he stares glumly at the desk. He responds in a dejected voice saying, "I have this... fascination with life. And death. It's just so, well, you know, interesting." He looks up. "I want to know how everything works, including life and death." He pulls out his spellbook and lays it across his lap. He pats it fondly with one hand as he continues. "I have a talent for arcane magic, and I want to use my magic to pry apart the mysteries of death and life. I want to learn all the secrets of death that I can." He looks up at the priest for a moment before his ears droop and he looks back down. He mutters under his breath to himself as he sadly puts his book away and prepares to leave, ashamed that he even came here, "It's just a stupid dream..."
After thanking the guard, Varielky will go up to the stands. She tries to get as close as posdible, hopefully close enough that she can talk with him. Until she finds something better to do, sparring in the arena will at least maintain her skills, if not hone them better. If they also pay, that would be ecen better, but it's not as important.
Before approaching, Varielky organizes her hair - even if she doesn't have anything to tie it with, at least that it wouldn't look messy after jogging. She also tries to determine how she smells - the smell of sweat - the best smell a fighter could have. She remembered some girl once told her that it's not how she should smell when meeting anyone, but that girl also never tried swinging a sword either. What would she know?
RP #2
Varielky, while preparing to speak with the manager’s assistant the arena, sees one of the garrison fighters taking his trials. He is Khazaran -- from the lands immediately west of Orraca u Shia, across the mountains on the far coast -- and he seems to be about on par with you in terms of combat skills, although you’re not sure you could best him. He uses a great sword and is stronger than he is agile. The guards practice with batons and hand crossbows, and there is variety among them in terms of experience.
As you draw closer to the manager’s assistant who is sitting in the second row -- the stadium seats are otherwise empty except for perhaps a dozen other people who also look like they work here. You see that the ledger he writes into is well-worn, though not particularly old. In fact, although he is already writing in a middle page, you would guess the leather cover is just a few months old. You glance briefly at the open leaves, for he does not turn to you immediately but finishes what he had been writing -- or sketching, rather. It is a nicely-drawn illustration of a melee taking place in the arena, four fighters dressed like Bakar Elite, versus six dressed as ragged Dreyen barbarians.
The orracan turns to you, shutting the ledger and placing his quill behind an ear in smooth motions, raising his eyebrow disdainfully and wondering aloud, “Why must I answer the same questions, day in and day out?” He then focuses on a point directly above your right shoulder and continues, his multiple chins jiggling as he speaks, under a soul patch, puckering lips, and a very small pointy moustache “Yes you can practice here. No you can’t practice right now. Yes you must wait until the guard and garrison, and champions, and all the rest of the people who actually matter are done with their practice. Yes, you may practice ONNNNLY in the public pens on the floor, in the hours before sunset. Arena closes promptly at sunset and then your ass must be off my grounds or it will be kicked the ‘Llosh off the grounds.” Then he glances at you briefly and you think his glance lingers. “The cost is 2 copper per practice, and if you get your ass badly injured and we have to send a runner to the temple, you pay for that too.”
He looks at you for another long moment. Not in the way men sometimes do when they have seduction in mind. You find it hard to pin down his expression. Then he jots a note on a corner of a page in his ledger, then rips it out carefully and hands it to you. It says, simply, ‘free practice.’ “Just for today, if you bring this at 3 bells (OOC: 3pm), you may practice for free. Tell the guard Mr. Abadolla gave this to you. AB. OH. DOLL. UH.”
((OOC: Currently, Mittens is wearing a simple pair of tan pants rolled up to his midcalf. He wears no shoes as he has padded feet. He wears a sleeveless vest that is a creamy yellow color that dangles open (I'm getting an ancient Mediterranean-Middle East vibe from the city.) Since it has been relatively chilly in the city lately, he also has his hooded green cloak wrapped around him. He has a leather satchel of sorts that he slings over a shoulder that normally holds his book. He doesn't really have a sense for fashion. He pretty much throws on whatever is clean.))
Mittens deflates a bit as he hears he can't snoop around in this library either. He half-hears the rest of Abbis Adil's conversation as a sense of defeat wells up inside him. He ignores the cup of coffee in front of him as he stares glumly at the desk. He responds in a dejected voice saying, "I have this... fascination with life. And death. It's just so, well, you know, interesting." He looks up. "I want to know how everything works, including life and death." He pulls out his spellbook and lays it across his lap. He pats it fondly with one hand as he continues. "I have a talent for arcane magic, and I want to use my magic to pry apart the mysteries of death and life. I want to learn all the secrets of death that I can." He looks up at the priest for a moment before his ears droop and he looks back down. He mutters under his breath to himself as he sadly puts his book away and prepares to leave, ashamed that he even came here, "It's just a stupid dream..."
RP #4
As Mittens speaks, downcast, Abbis Adil sits silently for a long moment. You both sit on the floor, and The Learned One’s long upper body sits perfectly straight, his head still cocked to one side, a quizzical smile slowly forming on his thin, dark violet face.
“The bittersweet quality that accompanies virtually every living endeavor is, in fact, the very thing that is most precious about life, young cat. Whatever we do or become or love is, in the end, transient. Nothing lasts, does it. Our interests, our...family...everything passes with time. Moeitu teaches us this.”
He sips his coffee slowly. The buck-toothed acolyte enters again, whispers something into the High Priest’s ear, then quietly departs once more. The room is silent for a long moment, and then the Learned One puts down his empty coffee cup, and says, “There is one volume which I think you should read, and I give you permission to do so. But now, you will excuse me, I must attend to another matter. Perhaps your continued prayers to Moeitu will be answered. One will only know, if one commits to such a connection with The Balancer.”
He stands, and the acolyte appears, to whom the High Priest gestures with a glance. “Djin Chee, please allow our guest to read ‘The Question of Ages.’” And drawing up to his full height, he steps easily out of the room, beyond the carved wood partition.
The acolyte, Djin Chee, offers you a brief smile of encouragement, then turns. “This way,” he says in a whisper, and, exiting the room in the direction you came, begins to walk back down the hallway.
Do you follow him? (OOC: feel free to add to the conversation above)
"AB. OH. DOLL. UH." Varielky repeats. "Got it. Thank you, I'll be here at the moment the third bell strikes. Although..." She thinks for a moment. "Is there anything I could do, beyond the practice? Perhaps a gladiator-like fight or a competition, anything of sorts?"
Mittens' ears perk up, and a wide grin splits his face as he says, "Really? Thank you so much!" He springs to his feet and enthusiasticly follows Djin wherever he takes him.
While at the Markets, Ka'imi notices clothing vendors selling garments which include furs and feathers from local creatures. Seeking a place outside of the city where he can set up as a trapper, Ka'imi heads out on the inland road along the river. One kilometer, two, three...every bit of arable land seems covered in farms feeding the great populace of Ishi Ammah. However, continuing on with energetic strides, the young elf finds a small forest some 5 miles inland, and in this environment, Ka'imi is at home and knows he could survive indefinitely off the land, feeding himself and accessing drinking water. He spends a full day's time among the junipers, hawthornes, and pistachio trees listening, observing, and communing with the living earth, from the tips of the tree's root systems up to their crowns, and out to the edge of the woods. While in this semi-meditative state, he smells and hears species of ground squirrels, wild goat-like sheep with orange-hued fur and small foxes called Fennecs. The latter's fur was used for glove and hat linings he saw being sold for a high price at the markets; squirrel fur was also used for less pricey gloves and boots.
(OOC: for hunting/trapping beyond what you need to survive, please roll a series of 3 survival rolls per day. If there are other skills whose use you can describe in supporting your trapping endeavors, tell me how you want to employ them, and make one separate roll for each one. How many days do you want to try to build up an inventory of furs to sell? Do you already know how to skin an animal in such a way that the coat is preserved perfectly?)
On a cooler morning I see traces of something foreign near the shelter. Working quickly to blend back into the trees and underbrush (OOC - Mask of the Wild) before realizing that whatever was there with him is either gone or incredibly stealthy.
After his recon trip to the market he decides on working to catch Fennecs and squirrels. Without any formal training in how to skin the beasts it's a game of figuring out how best to catch them first, and then finding a way to learn this new trade skill. A few days of watching the squirrels and fennecs near his shelter lead to figuring out how they move, when they're nervous and skittish, and where they seem to live. Squirrels seem to live in trees while the fennecs pop up from holes in the ground. One of the holes looks empty and I poke my head in to learn how a fennec burrow works. It takes a day or so but my body attunes back to Natural Explorer (you remain alert to danger even when you are engaged in another activity, you can move stealthily at a normal pace (while alone), you find twice as much food while foraging, and while tracking creatures, you learn the exact number, sizes, and how long ago they passed through the area.) and it becomes clear that I'll be able to find more than enough squirrels and fennecs both when the time is right. But the problem of what to do with them and how to skin them needs to be solved before I'm left with a large pile of rotting animal carcasses.
The next morning I hop down from the shelter and prepare to make my way to the market again. And it's there, that unmistakable feeling in the air again. There's something weird and foreign here and it might not mean me harm but it's definitely not a fairy ready to grant a boon or boost my skills.
The trip back to the city is uneventful. I find a fur vendor and ask who does their skinning and tanning. This is the person I need to find, and either barter to work with them or create a system where I trade carcasses for skins.
Mittens' ears perk up, and a wide grin splits his face as he says, "Really? Thank you so much!" He springs to his feet and enthusiasticly follows Djin wherever he takes him.
RP #5
Mittens follows Djin Chee through a different doorway, down a flight of gold-inlaid steps, and then through a narrow corridor under the temple, again, ornately decorated, and through a tall doorway into what could only be the Temple’s library.
It is not large like the immense library in Jen Ghessa, many stories tall, and gorgeously decorated with finely wrought gold and tall statues, in which Mittens had time to gain his earliest spells during the evenings of his enrollment in the Jenghen military. No, the library of the Temple of Moeitu in Ishi Ammah, though a beautiful and refined space, dimly lit by lanterns hanging on the walls, and also by candlelight on tables where a few readers sit in front of open books, is but one room, and a basement room at that. The smell is of aged leather, dried ink, and dust and indeed, someone sneezes as they turn a musty page, their candle fluttering for a moment.
The high-cheeked acolyte leads you to an open stool, motioning for you to sit, and then pulls a well-used volume with gold-inlaid binding from one of the nearest shelves and lays it on the table in front of you. It’s title, ‘The Question of Ages,’ is likewise ornately inlaid and traced with gold.
Mittens finds that this is an interesting read, of sorts. Like all the Gods, Moeitu exists in the Sea of Stars, which is where a wizard’s power originates, or rather, the reservoir from which a wizard draws power. If Mittens has the patience, his intellect and curiosity will pull him through the entire tome, which is no more than 100 pages, with illustrations, within a few hours. (OOC: please take note that Mittens has gained some knowledge of Moeitu, which could play into investigation or arcana rolls). As he reads, he notes that the other readers are two female acolytes (both Orracan), a middle-aged chimp tradesman (he would guess), and a dignified looking older Jenghen reading with the help of a monocle and two extra candles.
You have not seen Djin Chee for a while, although you think one of the Orracan acolytes in the reading room is keeping an eye on the other readers.
RP#1
Varielky seems drawn to the Champions district, and finds an open room in a common house in a five-story building facing the city wall above a Dwarven smithy, where the sounds of activity at dawn -- ingots being dropped off, garrison staff placing orders, the forges heating up, and the impeccable beat of the anvil -- allow no late mornings.
Rising early to this hubbub, Varielky sees many fighters also up and jogging the streets. Garrison squads, guards, and sometimes individuals, sometimes with children giving chase, asking for handouts, or accompanying a parent.
Although Varielky’s bearing is Dreyen, the block’s residents don’t raise an eyebrow, they’ve seen many a warrior come and go to this area, usually with one eye focused on the arena, and most have never seen a Dreyen and couldn’t say what one looks like. It is the veterans of the provincial brigade who saw active duty in The North whose blood seems to boil when they see her pass. But they are few, and most residents go about their daily business.
Varielky enjoys running in the early morning, before most of the city is awake, thus avoiding crowds and maintaining a good pace. Also, the winter mornings are chilly, and working up a sweat refreshes her. In this way, she sees much of the city. When she returns, jogging past the arena, she finds the great gates open. Guards and garrison are undergoing their annual trials, a few each day, demonstrating their continued mastery of arms with wooden practice weapons, or with steel.
A guard stands at the entry, and to her inquires, Varielky learns that she may enter and watch practice if she wishes, although if she wants to do more than that, she’ll have to speak with the arena manager’s assistant, a heavy-set youngish Orracan wearing a sky blue djinni-like outfit topped by an indigo turban worn at a rakish slant, who sits in the stands, casually sketching entries in a large ledger with a fancy quill pen.
DM for Candlekeep Mysteries // Dev Hornd in Curious Critters // Eclipse Faraway in Gallows Dancer
((OOC: Sorry about all those assumptions. Anyways, I was looking specifically for Comprehend Languages, Protection from Good and Evil, False Life, and Mage Armor. Honestly, Mittens would be fine with learning any new spells.))
Seeing the High Priest walk by, Mittens hastily follows him. This probably breaks about a million protocols, but oh well, He thinks to himself as he approaches. "Um, Mister High Priest guy? I'm a bit of a Necromancy buff, and I, um, I was wondering if I could, uh, check out your library or something if you had one. I really need to learn some new magic, but everywhere else is closed to me. If you want payment or something, I could do some work for you... " He trails off awkwardly as he realizes he started to ramble.
DM- Azalin's Doom
DM- Surviving the Unsurvivable
After thanking the guard, Varielky will go up to the stands. She tries to get as close as posdible, hopefully close enough that she can talk with him. Until she finds something better to do, sparring in the arena will at least maintain her skills, if not hone them better. If they also pay, that would be ecen better, but it's not as important.
Before approaching, Varielky organizes her hair - even if she doesn't have anything to tie it with, at least that it wouldn't look messy after jogging. She also tries to determine how she smells - the smell of sweat - the best smell a fighter could have. She remembered some girl once told her that it's not how she should smell when meeting anyone, but that girl also never tried swinging a sword either. What would she know?
Varielky
Ednyss cracks his neck as he steps out into the bustling city of Ishi Ammah. Walking through the stalls, Ednyss refamiliarizes himself with the market before heading straight to the Champion's District to pay his respects at the temple of Takal Demesh. Upon entering, he introduces himself to the priests as they may have changed since he was last here, two years ago and recites a small prayer.
After paying his respects, he feels his emblem pulse with power as a surge of divine power runs through him, and he feels the grace of Takal Demesh power through his body once again. His emotions are mixed, he is pleased to no longer have to serve under a commander that was not dwarven, but his happiness was tinged with sadness now that he was relegated to a life without war. Nevertheless, with this new surge of energy, Ednyss wanders into the sizeable dwarven community around the Arena and requested lodging. Not needing much, just a simple place to rest his head at the end of the day, Ednyss heads to the home of Ingrid. Ingrid was a fellow immigrant from the Core of Onyx and she and Ednyss had become fast friends before Ednyss left for the military. She works with iron and owns a small smithy shop on a street corner. While she is far from the best armorer in the Champion's District, her specialty is War Pick's and that is what had originally drawn Ednyss to her. He asks for and receives lodging in the spare room above her shop and the two friends spend the rest of the week acquanting themselves with each other's exploits for the last two years. After settling in for a few days, Ednyss begins to feel antsy, and his severance pay isn't going to last forever so he begins to search for a job working the concessions at the Arena. With his skill regarding pots and pans, as well his talent with alcoholic beverages, it shouldn't be difficult to earn a living.
Everyday, Ednyss wakes up before the crack of dawn and spends an hour performing his own rituals at the temple of Takal Demesh and assisting any priests there with their own rituals. Once he has secured a job, he will work for most of the day, but will come back down to eat his mid-afternoon meal with Ingrid and perhaps offer pointers with her smithing as well as continue to regale each other with (tall) tales of their journeys. Once the meal is complete, he heads back to work in the Arena where may perhaps also get the chance to witness a fight. In the evenings, Ednyss creeps quietly into The Docks where he wanders until he finds a casino or tavern that promotes gambling and tries to earn some money off of the poor sailors and dock workers in the area. Every night he comes back to Ingrid's shop where he rests until it is time to rise in the morning and pay his respects once again.
(OOC: A few notes. 1) He might run into Varielky either at the temple of Takal Demesh or see her on one of her runs around the arena. 2) I assumed that there would be some sort of concessions at the arena for people that were watching (like a sports stadium), if not, then Ednyss can do any other odd jobs around the arena that need doing. 3) I'm not sure how we could determine how Ednyss's gambling went (we could do a series of rolls?) but otherwise I can just say that I averaged out breaking even. 4) I included Ingrid of my own volition given that there was a sizeable dwarven community in the Champion's District and it makes sense that Ednyss might have made a friend in the time he spent in Ishi Ammah before being drafted for service. 5) We can RP Ednyss getting a job, meeting Ingrid again, going to the Temple of Takal Demesh, finding a place to gamble, or any other event that you see fit, I just described Ednyss's actions as a whole and his intentions, let me know if we need to stop at any point to resolve something.)
“The mark of a successful DM is when you have caused more player deaths with doors than dragons, demons, or devils.”
Ka’imi walks through the market noting the vendors and what they’re selling. Are there traders for goods he might be able to procure?
The year of conscription in the army was something he considers returning to, but those true soldiers didn’t ever make it feel like they were well paid, well fed, or well treated.
Walking past the gates and out of the city into the outskirts it feels like opportunity. This is a vast new area he‘s explored but not really taken advantage of. Now, without the yoke of soldier hood about him there’s a chance to live off the land, and build a small cache of furs, herbs and edible plants that can be traded in the market when the need arises.
The train ride and his companions cross his mind sometimes in the evening before light’s end. Such a difficult and bloody battle and that frost giant’s massive club has shook him out of a deep sleep more than a few times. Constant practicing with the longbow and the arrows that can be crafted from castoff branches and twigs on the ground. These aren’t the same and The Tree but they’re getting better for his purposes, or more likely he’s adapting to this new terrain away from The Tree and his people.
A modest shelter is built in a clump of trees about a kilometer from town. A few hours of archery every day mixed with trapping, and fishing, and gathering makes for full but simple living. The nagging feeling begins to pull at him, should he be doing more with his life? Is this what would make Caudle proud of him? A stack of furs ready for trading, and a few large packs of herbs are ready for a trip to the market. After this stretch of seeing only a few people every day moving through the forest (and engaging with even fewer) it’s going to be a big change back in the city.
The High Priest’s form embodies the shape of a long broomstick held upside down, with its bristles pointing upward and curving to one side after long use. Tall and thin, with very dark violet skin, and over six feet in height, Abbas Adil, whose name you learn later, wears a conical black hat of shiny silk, which flares slightly at the top, and from which dangle tassels at either side. The sigil of death is embroidered on the front of his long , ashen robe, and he wears an armless cloak of brown-embroidered satin over that.
As mittens speaks, the High Priest slows, seeming at first as if he would continue on while leaving one of his acolytes to deal with your questions. However Abbas Adil sees you out of the corner of his eye, does a double take, then tilts his head inquisitively, looking something like a scarecrow dangling from a noose and invites Mittens to join him for a cup of coffee in chambers. He will answer your questions and has a few of his own, he says.
Do you join him?
(OOC: no worries about assumptions, we’re just feeling things out as we go!)
DM for Candlekeep Mysteries // Dev Hornd in Curious Critters // Eclipse Faraway in Gallows Dancer
Ednyss enters the temple of Takal Demesh and the other priests, Ikram and Quisa, recognize him, as do several acolytes who were in temple when Ednyss was here before his term of service.
Indeed, Ednyss’ return is celebrated and they chide him for not sending letters in advance to inform them of his coming return.
The High Priest is in Fa Tehesi and will return in a week or so, and, the other acolytes tell Ednyss, he will certainly wish to see his erstwhile acolyte.
Ikram asks where Ednyss is staying. He apologizes, and offers that although there is no room for Ednyss in the temple lodgings right now, due to a larger-than-expected delegation of Dwarven priests from Kalahatha having come for the Dwarven New Year celebration (which Dwarves celebrate on mid-winter’s day), and having then extended their stay. But they will soon depart, and a room will be available for Ednyss if he wants it, in another week’s time.
Ingrid is overjoyed to see you. She has a small specialty smithy, and has cornered the market for war picks and hammers in Orraca u Shia. “You know Ednyss, it’s like a pool of magma. Always shifting, always the same. That’s how we all are here in Ishi Ammah. I am so very glad to see you, my old friend.”
At the Arena, the next Great Games will take place in two week’s time. In the meanwhile, the city guard and garrison train on the floor there every day, and perform their annual trials. You may watch, says a guard, but if you wish to do more, you’ll need to speak to the manager’s assistant, a heavy-set youngish Orracan wearing a sky blue djinni-like outfit topped by an indigo turban worn at a rakish slant, who sits in the 2nd row of the stands, casually sketching entries in a large ledger with a fancy quill pen.
There are a few small eateries facing the arena which are open year-round. You arrive mid-day, and guards and workers from the arena and a local armorer’s shop stand in line to order a slice of leavened bread covered with bean paste and meats. Your turn in line comes, and you offer your services, but neither place is hiring.
(OOC: For gambling, let’s assume you break even for now, and that you’re keeping your bets small and really just trying to regain your bearings. Does Ednyss play fair?)
(OOC, all good for your points 1-5. I’ll tell you if you cross paths w Varielky. Keep in mind that your arrivals are on different days.)
DM for Candlekeep Mysteries // Dev Hornd in Curious Critters // Eclipse Faraway in Gallows Dancer
RP #1
While at the Markets, Ka'imi notices clothing vendors selling garments which include furs and feathers from local creatures. Seeking a place outside of the city where he can set up as a trapper, Ka'imi heads out on the inland road along the river. One kilometer, two, three...every bit of arable land seems covered in farms feeding the great populace of Ishi Ammah. However, continuing on with energetic strides, the young elf finds a small forest some 5 miles inland, and in this environment, Ka'imi is at home and knows he could survive indefinitely off the land, feeding himself and accessing drinking water. He spends a full day's time among the junipers, hawthornes, and pistachio trees listening, observing, and communing with the living earth, from the tips of the tree's root systems up to their crowns, and out to the edge of the woods. While in this semi-meditative state, he smells and hears species of ground squirrels, wild goat-like sheep with orange-hued fur and small foxes called Fennecs. The latter's fur was used for glove and hat linings he saw being sold for a high price at the markets; squirrel fur was also used for less pricey gloves and boots.
(OOC: for hunting/trapping beyond what you need to survive, please roll a series of 3 survival rolls per day. If there are other skills whose use you can describe in supporting your trapping endeavors, tell me how you want to employ them, and make one separate roll for each one. How many days do you want to try to build up an inventory of furs to sell? Do you already know how to skin an animal in such a way that the coat is preserved perfectly?)
DM for Candlekeep Mysteries // Dev Hornd in Curious Critters // Eclipse Faraway in Gallows Dancer
“Sure thing, Priest,” Mittens responds. As he follows behind him, Mittens suddenly feels inadequate if his clothing. He pats himself down, trying to clean himself up a bit. Should have dressed up, he thinks.
((OOC: what style of clothing do Cats wear?))
DM- Azalin's Doom
DM- Surviving the Unsurvivable
(OOC: I think Mittens has not spent time among Cats, much, as an adult. Cats in The Estates wear ornate, embroidered clothing, colorful, frilly, and they really enjoy scalding remarks about each other's clothing choices. The family he's staying with mostly just wear regular street clothes, and they're not that into backbiting. The influence of humans, perhaps. What is Mittens wearing, again?)
DM for Candlekeep Mysteries // Dev Hornd in Curious Critters // Eclipse Faraway in Gallows Dancer
Ednyss greets the other priests with enthusiasm and tells Ikram not to worry about lodgings for now as he is staying with a friend. He apologizes profusely for not sending letters, but points to the large scar left by the wolf bite on his left bicep and the bruises that remain from the axe that hit his torso. While the wounds have healed, the scars of battle remain, and Ednyss is more than happy to show off (and greatly embellish the story) while telling the other priests, "If you think this looks bad, you should have seen the other side. The Dreyen's did not stand a chance, for the grace of Takal Demesh was on our side. However, the Dreyen that fought bravely may yet find peace with him above." Once he is done talking to the other acolytes, he pulls Ikram aside and lets the priest know that he will be around in the mornings and to let him know when the High Priest is arriving in the hopes that Ednyss may see him.
After reconnecting with the other acolytes at the temple, and failing to find a job immediately in the eateries around the arena, Ednyss spends the next few days watching fights in the arena and volunteering to help Ingrid however he can. Although he is nowhere near as talented as her with a hammer and anvil, he knows his way around a smithy and his divine magic allows him to repair certain small pieces more quickly than would be possible with a forge. Really Ednyss just pitches in however he can to show his appreciation for letting him stay with her. After a couple of days of observing the fights, Ednyss approaches the manager's assistant with a request. Loathe to be working for another non-dwarf even outside of the military, he is hesitant to ask for a job, but he knows "Hello sir. I understand that the Great Games are approaching and that you may be in need of a few extra pairs of arms around here. I also heard that you were the man to talk to if one was interested in a job at the Arena. Is there something that I might be able to do for you?"
(OOC: Breaking even for now sounds good and it simplifies things, although I would like to be able to make some money eventually... Ednyss will always play fair, although he is very talented at reading other people's intentions in card games (Passive Insight 17) and will sometimes draw upon the divine power bestowed upon him by Takal Demesh if the stakes were ever to grow too high.)
“The mark of a successful DM is when you have caused more player deaths with doors than dragons, demons, or devils.”
RP #3
Mittens follows the the Learned One, Abbas Adil, High Priest of Moeitu, and his retinue out of the public area of the temple, through a side door, and into the dark living quarters, lit only by a few candles. An ornate door at the end of the hallway leads to a wide room, with a low formal table on a beautifully carpeted floor, with comfortable pillows for sitting. The chamber is decorated with ornate artwork, and delicate carvings in its wooden partitions stand below high windows which throw a warm, diffuse light into the room. More candles are quietly lit by one of the acolytes, a young man with flying cheekbones, big buck teeth, and sleepy-looking eyes. He moves in and out of the room with grace, returning with a small coffee pot which is placed over the fire and slowly its smell brings brightness to the Learned One’s eyes as he speaks.
“First, I will answer your question, young cat. Our library is not a public one, and so I am afraid that you may not peruse its holdings, most especially given that the Implacable One, The Balancer’s rites do not seem to provoke your interest as much as purely self-interested desire to take what you can without regard to your own devotions.” Here he pauses, removing his high cylindrical hat carefully and placing it atop an abstract bust, then removing his cloak and leaving only the black robe.
He explains, “the robes of office serve only to help the common people focus. And focus they must, no? I was called this morning to administer last rites to a devotee of this temple who for twenty years has always offered prayers and sacrifices on holy days, one whose life gained meaning from her connection to The Implacable One, one who gave generously to allow our temple to continue offering solace.”
The acolyte returns and pours you each a small cup of very dark coffee. The Learned One continues, “However, I find you to be a curiosity. There is something about you, something felt but not seen, which draws me to speak with you. Perhaps Moeitu has sent you here for a reason." And, looking directly at you, he presses on, "What might that reason be?”
DM for Candlekeep Mysteries // Dev Hornd in Curious Critters // Eclipse Faraway in Gallows Dancer
RP #2
At the arena, you see the garrison fighters taking their trials. Most of them are Khazaran -- from the lands immediately west of Orraca u Shia, across the mountains on the far coast -- and many of them are about on par with you in terms of their combat skills, although some are far better. They tend to prefer great swords, glaives, and other two-handed weapons, and they favor strength over agility. They are disliked by the city residents, but given plenty of room. The guards use batons and hand crossbows, and there is greater variety among them in terms of experience. Some, you could imagine besting, others, you’re not sure. Some move with unexpected speed and self-assurance.
After taking in the trials, you pose your request to the large djinn-dressed manager’s assistant. As you draw closer, you see that the ledger he writes into is well-worn, though not particularly old. In fact, although he is already writing in a middle page, you would guess the leather cover is no more aged than two moon’s time. You glance briefly at the open leaves, for he does not turn to you immediately but finishes what he had been writing -- or sketching, rather. It is a nicely-drawn illustration of a melee taking place in the arena, four fighters dressed like Bakar Elite, versus six dressed as ragged Dreyen barbarians. Below that is what you recognize as a betting table, with some amounts already filled in on thin ledger lines. There are names listed, too, on the table, some of which seem familiar, but you don’t quite have time to take it all in before the orracan turns to you.
Shutting the ledger and placing his quill behind an ear in smooth motions, he raises an eyebrow disdainfully and wonders aloud, “Why must I answer the same questions, day in and day out?” He then focuses on a point directly above your right shoulder and continues, “Do you realize that I have been managing this arena for ten years? And that we have games here almost every month, sometimes twice per month? And that somehow, Some. How. I have managed to get the crowd fed, even without your help? For ten years?” He shakes his head slowly and motions for the guard to approach. “Do you know how that happens, dwarf? It happens because of planning. Plan. Ning.” And to the guard, he says, “get this one outfitted as a sweeper for the Beauty Pageant. Wait.” He frowns and now looks you over up and down very carefully, eyes assessing your build and stance. He addresses the guard again. “No. Add him to security. For section...12.” And he waves you away.
The guard walks you back toward the entry gates, and then through a side door to the enormous office and storage spaces under the arena, through a veritable maze of long curving corridors, until you reach a small room deep in the bowels of the edifice, filled with stacks of ledgers on shelves and falling off of shelves, inhabited by a chimp in tunic and vest sitting behind a table covered in loose papers and half unrolled scrolls. The chimp looks over his spectacles as the guard repeats the Manager’s Assistant’s instructions (you hear the chimp refer to the mananger's assistant as Mr. Abadolla, carefully enunciating “MISter”) and you are hired. You are to be at the gates at sunup on the first day of March (“Beauty”). Your name and address are taken down in another ledger.
When you return to your lodgings, Ingrid is impressed and very grateful for the assistance you can give her, and she cracks open a bottle of old Whiskey imported from Core of Onyx to celebrate your achievement with you.
Will you then head to the Docks to see if your luck holds in games of Slaughterhouse?
(OOC: This would be an opportunity to RP a night in the Docks.)
DM for Candlekeep Mysteries // Dev Hornd in Curious Critters // Eclipse Faraway in Gallows Dancer
((OOC: Currently, Mittens is wearing a simple pair of tan pants rolled up to his midcalf. He wears no shoes as he has padded feet. He wears a sleeveless vest that is a creamy yellow color that dangles open (I'm getting an ancient Mediterranean-Middle East vibe from the city.) Since it has been relatively chilly in the city lately, he also has his hooded green cloak wrapped around him. He has a leather satchel of sorts that he slings over a shoulder that normally holds his book. He doesn't really have a sense for fashion. He pretty much throws on whatever is clean.))
Mittens deflates a bit as he hears he can't snoop around in this library either. He half-hears the rest of Abbis Adil's conversation as a sense of defeat wells up inside him. He ignores the cup of coffee in front of him as he stares glumly at the desk. He responds in a dejected voice saying, "I have this... fascination with life. And death. It's just so, well, you know, interesting." He looks up. "I want to know how everything works, including life and death." He pulls out his spellbook and lays it across his lap. He pats it fondly with one hand as he continues. "I have a talent for arcane magic, and I want to use my magic to pry apart the mysteries of death and life. I want to learn all the secrets of death that I can." He looks up at the priest for a moment before his ears droop and he looks back down. He mutters under his breath to himself as he sadly puts his book away and prepares to leave, ashamed that he even came here, "It's just a stupid dream..."
DM- Azalin's Doom
DM- Surviving the Unsurvivable
RP #2
Varielky, while preparing to speak with the manager’s assistant the arena, sees one of the garrison fighters taking his trials. He is Khazaran -- from the lands immediately west of Orraca u Shia, across the mountains on the far coast -- and he seems to be about on par with you in terms of combat skills, although you’re not sure you could best him. He uses a great sword and is stronger than he is agile. The guards practice with batons and hand crossbows, and there is variety among them in terms of experience.
As you draw closer to the manager’s assistant who is sitting in the second row -- the stadium seats are otherwise empty except for perhaps a dozen other people who also look like they work here. You see that the ledger he writes into is well-worn, though not particularly old. In fact, although he is already writing in a middle page, you would guess the leather cover is just a few months old. You glance briefly at the open leaves, for he does not turn to you immediately but finishes what he had been writing -- or sketching, rather. It is a nicely-drawn illustration of a melee taking place in the arena, four fighters dressed like Bakar Elite, versus six dressed as ragged Dreyen barbarians.
The orracan turns to you, shutting the ledger and placing his quill behind an ear in smooth motions, raising his eyebrow disdainfully and wondering aloud, “Why must I answer the same questions, day in and day out?” He then focuses on a point directly above your right shoulder and continues, his multiple chins jiggling as he speaks, under a soul patch, puckering lips, and a very small pointy moustache “Yes you can practice here. No you can’t practice right now. Yes you must wait until the guard and garrison, and champions, and all the rest of the people who actually matter are done with their practice. Yes, you may practice ONNNNLY in the public pens on the floor, in the hours before sunset. Arena closes promptly at sunset and then your ass must be off my grounds or it will be kicked the ‘Llosh off the grounds.” Then he glances at you briefly and you think his glance lingers. “The cost is 2 copper per practice, and if you get your ass badly injured and we have to send a runner to the temple, you pay for that too.”
He looks at you for another long moment. Not in the way men sometimes do when they have seduction in mind. You find it hard to pin down his expression. Then he jots a note on a corner of a page in his ledger, then rips it out carefully and hands it to you. It says, simply, ‘free practice.’ “Just for today, if you bring this at 3 bells (OOC: 3pm), you may practice for free. Tell the guard Mr. Abadolla gave this to you. AB. OH. DOLL. UH.”
DM for Candlekeep Mysteries // Dev Hornd in Curious Critters // Eclipse Faraway in Gallows Dancer
RP #4
As Mittens speaks, downcast, Abbis Adil sits silently for a long moment. You both sit on the floor, and The Learned One’s long upper body sits perfectly straight, his head still cocked to one side, a quizzical smile slowly forming on his thin, dark violet face.
“The bittersweet quality that accompanies virtually every living endeavor is, in fact, the very thing that is most precious about life, young cat. Whatever we do or become or love is, in the end, transient. Nothing lasts, does it. Our interests, our...family...everything passes with time. Moeitu teaches us this.”
He sips his coffee slowly. The buck-toothed acolyte enters again, whispers something into the High Priest’s ear, then quietly departs once more. The room is silent for a long moment, and then the Learned One puts down his empty coffee cup, and says, “There is one volume which I think you should read, and I give you permission to do so. But now, you will excuse me, I must attend to another matter. Perhaps your continued prayers to Moeitu will be answered. One will only know, if one commits to such a connection with The Balancer.”
He stands, and the acolyte appears, to whom the High Priest gestures with a glance. “Djin Chee, please allow our guest to read ‘The Question of Ages.’” And drawing up to his full height, he steps easily out of the room, beyond the carved wood partition.
The acolyte, Djin Chee, offers you a brief smile of encouragement, then turns. “This way,” he says in a whisper, and, exiting the room in the direction you came, begins to walk back down the hallway.
Do you follow him? (OOC: feel free to add to the conversation above)
DM for Candlekeep Mysteries // Dev Hornd in Curious Critters // Eclipse Faraway in Gallows Dancer
"AB. OH. DOLL. UH." Varielky repeats. "Got it. Thank you, I'll be here at the moment the third bell strikes. Although..." She thinks for a moment. "Is there anything I could do, beyond the practice? Perhaps a gladiator-like fight or a competition, anything of sorts?"
Varielky
Mittens' ears perk up, and a wide grin splits his face as he says, "Really? Thank you so much!" He springs to his feet and enthusiasticly follows Djin wherever he takes him.
DM- Azalin's Doom
DM- Surviving the Unsurvivable
On a cooler morning I see traces of something foreign near the shelter. Working quickly to blend back into the trees and underbrush (OOC - Mask of the Wild) before realizing that whatever was there with him is either gone or incredibly stealthy.
After his recon trip to the market he decides on working to catch Fennecs and squirrels. Without any formal training in how to skin the beasts it's a game of figuring out how best to catch them first, and then finding a way to learn this new trade skill.
A few days of watching the squirrels and fennecs near his shelter lead to figuring out how they move, when they're nervous and skittish, and where they seem to live. Squirrels seem to live in trees while the fennecs pop up from holes in the ground. One of the holes looks empty and I poke my head in to learn how a fennec burrow works. It takes a day or so but my body attunes back to Natural Explorer (you remain alert to danger even when you are engaged in another activity, you can move stealthily at a normal pace (while alone), you find twice as much food while foraging, and while tracking creatures, you learn the exact number, sizes, and how long ago they passed through the area.) and it becomes clear that I'll be able to find more than enough squirrels and fennecs both when the time is right. But the problem of what to do with them and how to skin them needs to be solved before I'm left with a large pile of rotting animal carcasses.
The next morning I hop down from the shelter and prepare to make my way to the market again. And it's there, that unmistakable feeling in the air again. There's something weird and foreign here and it might not mean me harm but it's definitely not a fairy ready to grant a boon or boost my skills.
The trip back to the city is uneventful. I find a fur vendor and ask who does their skinning and tanning. This is the person I need to find, and either barter to work with them or create a system where I trade carcasses for skins.
RP #5
Mittens follows Djin Chee through a different doorway, down a flight of gold-inlaid steps, and then through a narrow corridor under the temple, again, ornately decorated, and through a tall doorway into what could only be the Temple’s library.
It is not large like the immense library in Jen Ghessa, many stories tall, and gorgeously decorated with finely wrought gold and tall statues, in which Mittens had time to gain his earliest spells during the evenings of his enrollment in the Jenghen military. No, the library of the Temple of Moeitu in Ishi Ammah, though a beautiful and refined space, dimly lit by lanterns hanging on the walls, and also by candlelight on tables where a few readers sit in front of open books, is but one room, and a basement room at that. The smell is of aged leather, dried ink, and dust and indeed, someone sneezes as they turn a musty page, their candle fluttering for a moment.
The high-cheeked acolyte leads you to an open stool, motioning for you to sit, and then pulls a well-used volume with gold-inlaid binding from one of the nearest shelves and lays it on the table in front of you. It’s title, ‘The Question of Ages,’ is likewise ornately inlaid and traced with gold.
Mittens finds that this is an interesting read, of sorts. Like all the Gods, Moeitu exists in the Sea of Stars, which is where a wizard’s power originates, or rather, the reservoir from which a wizard draws power. If Mittens has the patience, his intellect and curiosity will pull him through the entire tome, which is no more than 100 pages, with illustrations, within a few hours. (OOC: please take note that Mittens has gained some knowledge of Moeitu, which could play into investigation or arcana rolls). As he reads, he notes that the other readers are two female acolytes (both Orracan), a middle-aged chimp tradesman (he would guess), and a dignified looking older Jenghen reading with the help of a monocle and two extra candles.
You have not seen Djin Chee for a while, although you think one of the Orracan acolytes in the reading room is keeping an eye on the other readers.
What do you do when you finish the book?
DM for Candlekeep Mysteries // Dev Hornd in Curious Critters // Eclipse Faraway in Gallows Dancer