RTD: Souls and Swords

[Nonsense667]

(I'm pretty sure he was telling the captive that he was to tell the others that it was a beast that gave him the wound, not making an inquiry.)

 

"Gladly"

 

I offer my assistance to Sophitia, and allow Cassandra to take the lead.

 

(You know, I must admit that I feel kind of bad that the amount of writing done is so out of balance. We just write a sentence or two, and you fill up a huge post. It feels like I should be contributing more.)

[roninvoid]

(I feel the same way, honestly.)

[Kuroshu]

(Sorry I got confused with my own move Lol, I though I just reopened an old wound.)

 

"Thou need to watch thy tongue, to be called a beast, I should have thyn head." I softly chuckled, "Now, tell me more about thy group."

I continue to interrogate the man

[Sand_Dragon]

[That's partly because of the problems of PbP - because of the time difference between the players, it's a better idea to have more events or more dialogue in a single post, otherwise pacing goes to a standstill]

 

Tyr

 

No roll

 

Ryn

 

Roll = 3, 2

 

---

 

"Let us go, then," says Ryn. " We must make haste if we wish to leave before anyone begins to draw connections between us and Sorel." The Paladin stoops and [3] with a little trouble, hoists the fallen Lysander onto his back. The man probably weighs more than him, but thankfully he is not wearing any heavy armor.

 

"Perhaps," he says, straining a little, "We should head to the inn first? We can treat his wounds there." He gives Sophitia a look. "And we can let you rest. Someone else must assist the Lady Sophitia though," he says, looking at Tyr and Cassandra.

 

Tyr nods curtly. "Gladly."

 

He offers his hand to Sophitia. She takes it, and he slings her arm around his shoulders. The height difference and chainmail armor might make things a little awkward, but she does not complain. "Thank you," Sophitia says. "For a mercenary, you're an honorable man."

 

Tyr looks to Cassandra. "Lead the way."

 

She nods, and the group makes its agonizing way back to the inn.

 

*

 

An hour of slow walking later, Ryn sets Lysander down at the High Horse tavern's doorstep. The effort may have sprained his ankle, but it was a deed worth doing. Cassandra knocks at the door.

 

The innkeeper flings the door open. "My ladies and lords," he cries. "Your friends are injured? Here, here, take them to the upstairs rooms..."

 

Ryn picks up Lysander in a more comfortable position and takes him upstairs. Sophitia smiles at Tyr. "Thank you for your kindness, but I can help myself from here." She makes her way, proud, but staggered, to the stairs as well.

 

"About the damage," Cassandra says hesitantly.

 

"Damage?" says the innkeeper. "Oh, it is a small thing, fires are common here in Genoa, why, just earlier I received news that the Lord Sorel's mansion had burned to the ground. I hope that you were not caught in the blaze, for you seem to have been in or near the area - by the look of the ashes on the Lady's clothes." the man says cannily, his eyes gleaming. "But now that you mention it, compensation would be appropriate." He is eyeing the pouch at Tyr's belt and Cassandra's belt as he speaks, though his gaze seems to linger longer on Cassandra, for different reasons than money.

 

Tyr judges him with a mercenary's mind for money. The weapons and gear left behind the bar would fetch many dozens of pistoles. The innkeeper seems a greedy man, though his greed is understandable. What is far more troubling is the implication regarding his knowledge of the Sorels encounters... and the hinting of the man at blackmail.

___________

 

Kurojin

 

No roll

 

---

 

"Sorry m'lord", says Raimol in response to Kurojin's veiled threat. "S'just the lizardmen, beasts is all they are, plague 'pon society an good folks of all kinds. Why just a few months of go, one of 'em, a big one, with a fancy shield 'an axe and these bloody great wings, he goes and burns a village to th' ground. A village! Me granpaps told me 'bout 'em, dragons they were called, he slew a few in his youth. Dragons he said about were bigger though, an'"

 

Realizing the rather talkative youth is about to go on an absurd tangent, Kurojin tightens his grip. The young man yelps, then fall silent. "That's all well and good," says the dragon-man. "Now what of thy group?"

 

He gulps. "Nine of us, there are, I shares a tent with three of my mates, and th others are the boss's... he's for Cervantes through an' through, but the rest of us are here for the food an' the gold. Bear's not much of a boss, if you ask me, m'lord, he kicks us around as he pleases an' him and his lady get most of the cash. An' that dog of his, it bites like a bitch, if you pardon the expression."

___________

[roninvoid]

"Fire damage, you say? Well, certainly you must be insured, sir... I would think it would be illegal to run such an establishment without such insurance."

 

I cast a suspicious glance at the innkeeper as he eyes the pouches my companions carry.

 

"After all, the source of the fire is unknown... You should be able to repair your building and more with the money," I give him a devious, perhaps even knowing wink. Perhaps I might be able to convince the innkeeper to spare our pistoles for another day.

 

"If the insurers knew that you were paid off...", I leave the comment unfinished, letting him draw his own conclusions.

 

I give Tyr a subtle nudge, hoping he will get the idea and aid in the negotiating.

(After all, he does have a bonus to any negotiations.)

[Nonsense667]

Sometimes the best way to help negotiations is to not say anything.

 

I cross my arms, gazing sternly at the innkeeper.

[Kuroshu]

"Tell thee more about thyn boss and 'tis lady, does thou dislike them?" I paused, "Enough for thou to betray them?"

I examine the man's expression and body language, to determine if he's lying.

 

[Sand_Dragon]

[in which double sixes are rolled. I fear the day you roll the number of DAS BIEST. The beast. Satan. The prince of this world. The great beast that is called dragon. You ken well what I mean.]

 

Tyr

 

Roll = 5 + 1 = 6

 

Ryn

 

Roll = 6

 

---

 

Cassandra blanches very slightly. She has caught his meaning, but the moment calls for control - a card-playing face, as the Earl of Sandwich would have it.

 

Ryn seizes the moment as he returns downstairs. "Fire damage, you say? Well, certainly you must be insured, sir... I would think it would be illegal to run such an establishment without such insurance."

 

He notices that the innkeeper is eyeing the pouches of gold hungrily. The innkeeper notices that he notices. Everyone is, in effect, noticing everything. The tension in the air is thicker than lard, and rather rancid to boot. Ryn presses on valiantly.

 

"After all, the source of the fire is unknown... You should be able to repair your building and more with the money," [6] Perhaps the innkeeper will be persuaded to let them leave with their money. "But if the insurers knew that you were paid off..." the Paladin trails off, letting his words hang in the air.

 

Surreptitiously, he nudges Tyr in the side.

 

Catching the Paladin's meaning, Tyr simply crosses his arms and visibly plants his feet more firmly. His stern gaze meets the innkeeper's flitting, shifty one. [6] The poor man seems to realize for the first time that he could very well be dealing with that bane of man and monster alike: Adventurers.* In retrospect, a mercenary, a paladin, and two mysterious ladies does not constitute the average traveling group, and whatever their business with the severely frightening Lord Sorel is, or was, it is clearly none of his.

 

His face is that of a man who has just become aware that he has managed to close the door of a cage trap while he is still in the cage. And he does not seem to like it one bit.

 

"Ah..." he says. He is suddenly unable to look straight at any of them. "Well, perhaps payment could be... deferred, in the meantime, until your lordships and your ladyship settle the bill? In the meantime," the man says, returning behind the bar. "I believe that these thing are yours?"

 

Behind the bar is the gear that Ryn had brusquely looted from their fallen foes. Most of the gear is above munitions grade, and might fetch quite a price. The sword of that great armored soldier especially looks like a fine piece of craftsmanship.

 

ITEMS:

Black Bracers 2x

Black Breastplate 1x

Black Greaves 2x

Greatsword 1x

Rapier 1x

___________

 

Kurojin

 

Roll = 4, 3

 

---

 

The dragon-man takes this little revelation to heart.

 

"Tell me more about thy boss and this lady; dost thou dislike them?" Kurojin pauses. "Enough... for thee to betray them?"

 

[4] The youth looks up at him in a mix of fear and curiosity. This is a very bold question to ask someone. Even the shard is nonplussed.

 

"DRAGON LORD, YOU ARE A TEMPTER, BUT YOUR SUBTLETY IS LACKING," it hollers in Kurojin's head. "HE IS A WEAK AND COWARDLY MAN, A SPECK, A BUG, BUT EVEN A BUG BALKS AT SUCH BOLD-FACED EFFRONTERY. WHAT DO YOU KNOW OF THE WORLD OF MEN, THAT MAKES YOU ASK SO FORWARD A QUESTION?"

 

"Wee-ll," says Raimol. [3] He is obviously balancing his options carefully. He is obviously terrified of Kurojin, but he is more terrified by the prospect of dying. "'s I said, me mates are in it for the loot. Couldn't care one whit for Cervantes, pirate captain's only dangerous inna sea, an' this ain't the sea. We'd want t' get at that chest of his, see, an' I don't mean the one contains 'is heart. Could get me mates along with me; don't like th' boss much to be honest. Could find that treasure fer ourselves, when old boss is dead."

 

"... WELL DONE, DRAGON LORD," murmurs the shard. "THE BOY IS A FOOL. PERHAPS HE WILL SERVE YOU WELL... BUT HE IS STILL A MAN, AND MEN HATE YOUR KIND."

___________

 

*four hundred years later, the term "adventurers" would be replaced by the more current, and appropriate term, "murder hobos".

[roninvoid]

"Pleasure doing business with you, sir," I pat the innkeeper on the shoulder reassuringly.

 

"I'm going to go upstairs and tend to Lady Sophitia's and Lysander's wounds. Perhaps the two of you should deal with the selling and procuring of goods?"

[Kuroshu]

"Thou is blindth by greed," My voices filled with disappointment, "tis will lead to thy doom. What stops thy leader, or the pirate called Cervantes from killing thee and thyn mates so that the loot will only be theirs?"

"And what says you to be sure that 'tis treasure is one that can be shared?" I continue to try and enlighten the man, "tis treasure you seek can be one that shall not bring thee riches, but rather brings misfortune?"

[Nonsense667]

"Very well, shall we take our leave Cassandra? Let us see what we can scrounge up. I do wonder how much this sword *I gesture to the phantom sword* will fetch."

 

(ooc: Sand_Dragon, I love you. That was the funniest thing I've ever freaking read.)

 

 

He notices that the innkeeper is eyeing the pouches of gold hungrily. The innkeeper notices that he notices. Everyone is, in effect, noticing everything.

*four hundred years later, the term "adventurers" would be replaced by the more current, and appropriate term, "murder hobos".

 

[Sand_Dragon]

[i wasn't kidding though - the term "murder hobos" has been around for almost a decade now! It describes the tendency of adventurers to kill and loot the hell out of everything. Kind of like Ryn has a penchant for doing. Also for some reason Kurojin is acting like a paladin now. A fire-breathing paladin. Or a preacher with wings but no underwear. And a bunch of terrible wounds. Also I made an error earlier; it's Lysander's entire forearm missing, not just at the wrist.]

 

Tyr

 

No roll

 

Ryn

 

No roll

 

---

 

"Pleasure doing business with you, sir," says Ryn, patting the innkeeper on the back reassuringly. He flinches from the Paladin's heavy hand.

 

Ryn turns to face Cassandra and Tyr. "I'm going to go upstairs and tend to Lady Sophitia's and Lysander's wounds. Perhaps the two of you should deal with the selling and procuring of goods?"

 

This seems like a good plan of action, though as it is now dark it might be hard to find someone willing to buy all of this heavy gear. Since Genoa is not currently on campaign, one would be hard-pressed to find soldiers looking to fill out their kit.

 

The salable gear is of good quality, but hardly the kind of thing that the collector of arms and armor would purchase, except for the mysterious ghost blade, which Tyr's practiced eye estimates could sell for incredible amounts of money - several thousand pistoles, which would be quite cumbersome to haul around. Carrying a loan on them at a bank might be better, but bills of honor might not be as useful as hard coin.

 

Tyr considers all of these things. "Very well, shall we take our leave Cassandra? Let us see what we can scrounge up. I do wonder how much this sword," he says, gesturing to the phantom sword hanging stubbornly at his side, will fetch."

 

"Where to, though?" says the young woman. "We might be able to find a few pawnshops open this late..."

 

They step out into the street. What shall it be? Mercenaries might be found in taverns, but wealthy collectors will be harder to find.

 

"We might have to be careful," Cassandra says. "A city's streets at night... not the best place to be wandering around blindly.

 

*

 

Ryn makes his way back upstairs to the quarters. Lysander's bloody stump has already made its mark on the bed-sheets. Sophitia is moodily fingering her pendant as Ryn enters the room.

 

"Welcome back, Paladin," she says as he returns. "I've thought of a way we could drive out the darkness in Lysander. I can teach you the purification art when we have time, but this should be enough for now. Are you ready to help me?"

____________

 

Kurojin

 

Roll = 2

 

---

 

Kurojin stares at his captive with disappointment.

Thou art blinded by thy greed," he says. "And it shall lead to thy doom. What stoppeth thy leader, or the pirate called Cervantes, from slaying thee and thy mates so that the 'loot' will only be theirs?"

 

"Well sir," he says, somewhat confused, "If'n we kills the boss, then ol' Cervantes won't know, will he? An' there's more of us than of him, see, which makes things fair."

 

"Art thou sure that this treasure is one that can be shared?" continues the dragon man. "This treasure thou seekest may be one that shall bring thee not riches, but rather misfortune!"

 

[2] Raimol shrugs. "Money is money, way we see it, and there ain't no truth to curses and spooks and - beggin' your pardon, sir - dragons, or if'n there were, there ain't now."

 

"THERE WAS A MAN I KNEW ONCE WHO SPOKE LIKE YOU, DRAGON LORD," the shard chimes in. "HE DIED ALONE AND FRIENDLESS, AND ALL THE WORLD FORSOOK HIM, FOR HE DID NOT SEEK POWER. WEALTH IS AS NOTHING. VIRTUE IS AS NOTHING. FOR WITH POWER YOU CAN TAKE WEALTH, AND FROM POWER FLOWS VIRTUE LIKE AN UNFAILING STREAM. THIS IS FALSE MORALITY, DRAGON LORD, TAKE CARE LEST YOU LOSE YOUR WAY.

"

____________

 

[OOC: Kuroshu, why does Kurojin now talk like Lancelot?]

[roninvoid]

(Is it really so bad to loot the dead for epic profits? )

 

"Of course, Lady Sophitia," I reply, taking a seat next to her. "Whenever you're ready."

[Nonsense667]

(ooc: Dammit, did not realize how late it would be.)

 

"Well perhaps then, my friend, rather than stumbling blindly, we should retire for the night, or at the very least return to the inn, and begin anew in the morning."

...

"Unless you feel it is necessary to continue at the current time of course."

 

(ooc: I kind of like playing off of other peoples actions, so I apologize if my style of writing is weird, as I try to accommodate for multiple paths, depending on the others actions. Yes yes I know, one of the problems of PbP. )

[Kuroshu]

(OCC: Cause He should be older than humans, so he should speak differently, But old english might not have been the correct choice... Maybe Rounin Kenshin's Dialog would have been a better choice...)

 

"A man's choice is his own, thus he acn not blame any other but himself." I say to the voice.

 

"Now then human, I ask thee two final questions." I turn back my attention to the man, "First, what exactly is this treasure thy speak of?"

[Sand_Dragon]

Tyr

 

Roll = 2, 4

 

Ryn

 

No roll

 

---

 

"Of course, Lady Sophitia," Ryn says, taking a seat next to her. "Whenever you're ready."

 

She nods. "What I'm about to show you is a secret between the holy warriors and our Gods. Now that there are only a few of us left, watch closely."

 

The holy warrior draws her sword and wraps her pendant around its hilt. She lays the sword across Lysander's neck. "Here," she says. "I need you to channel your power through me. Added to mine, it should be more than enough to do what we need to do. Are you ready? Summon all of your power."

 

*

 

"Well perhaps then, my friend," Tyr says, "Rather than stumbling blindly, we should retire for the night, or at the very least return to the inn, and begin anew in the morning."

 

Cassandra nods. "I don't like the feeling I'm getting out here. It's just a hunch, but we'll probably be safer indoors."

 

[2] Tyr steps back through the door ahead of her. After a few seconds' pause, Cassandra follows him. The innkeeper is there again, wringing his hands. "Back so soon, lord and lady?" he cries. "That is wise of you, nightly excursions in fair Genoa are hardly the safest."

 

Cassandra looks at him intently. "The bodies of the men who killed my friend Adrastos*, where are they?"

 

The innkeeper blanches. "They are gone, my lady; I had the watch cart them away. They were a strange group; a wealthy merchant captain, a soldier, and a butler."

 

She nods. "And Adrastos?"

 

"In the churchyard, my lady; a Priest said the last rites for him gratis. A strange dark-skinned man, very tall, he was."

 

That business taken care of Tyr, inquires as to where the group might find suitable pawn shops, banks, or perhaps a smith of some sort.

 

The innkeeper gives him a thoughtful look. "I have a friend who might be able to smith for you, depending on the scale of the work; he is passable at the repair of damaged weapons. The pawn shops are mostly in the merchants' quarter near the Cattedrale di San Lorenzo, and the banks may be located near the docks. Of course, I doubt any of them are open at this late hour."

__________

 

Kurojin

 

No roll

 

---

 

"A man's choice is his own, thus he can not blame any other but himself." Kurojin says to the voice. Raimol gives him a queer look. As the dragon-lord already knows, no one but himself can hear the shard's voice.

 

"Now then human, I ask thee two final questions." Kurojin turns his attention back to his captive. "First, what exactly is this treasure thy speak of?"

 

"SHALL I PEER INTO HIS MIND FOR YOU" suggests the shard. "YOUR HEAD IS A CRAMPED SPACE, AND I WOULD LIKE TO STRETCH MY LEGS. SO TO SPEAK. CERTAINLY THIS YOUNG ONE'S MIND IS MUCH EMPTIER."

 

After a moment's thought, the youth replies. "I don't rightly know, m'lord. Some th' mates think it be a heapin pile of gold, or precious stones an jewelry, or summat, but we got plenty o' gold an jewelry searchin' for the thing. Lady thinks it's some kind a talisman, like them what the barbarians use to protect 'emselfs from ball an shot, and th' Boss is close-lipped on it."

__________

 

*Technically, Ryn did that, but what the innkeeper doesn't know won't hurt him.

[Kuroshu]

"There's no need for that," I tell the voice in a hushed tone, "'tis one's just a pawn to them."

 

"Tis my final question," I turn back my attention to the man, "Are thou sure thou wants to continue to look for tis 'Treasure' even if thy life is forfeit?"

[roninvoid]

I breathe deeply, drawing forth my power from within. Calming myself, I slowly begin to channel my power through Sophitia.

[Nonsense667]

I thank the innkeeper for his help, and suggest to Cassandra that we retire for the night.

[Sand_Dragon]

Tyr

 

No roll

 

Ryn

 

Roll = 6 [welp], 3

 

---

 

Ryn calms himself. This is but an extension of the lesson taught him by the masters of his order; instead of letting the power flow into Sophitia, he must let it flow through her. The archaic masters of Malta, Sir Lionel in particular, liked to use this technique en masse; with enough Paladins available, the healing divine energy became the hammer of the heavens. Unfortunately on certain occasions the focal Paladin was grievously injured, and on one memorable occasion the Paladin in question (one Sir Ducard of Britanny) exploded spectacularly, showering everyone in a hundred yard radius with his holy organs.

 

But Ryn is just one Paladin. That can't possibly happen here.

 

Right? Right.

 

Both arms outstretched, he places his palms on Sophitia's shoulders and pushes. [6] There is a tremendous upswell of divine energy, with phantom tracers of what might be lightning, or what might be the onset of a really bad migraine. The electric light pulses out from his core and singes his surcoat [1 damage to armor]. The energy causes his bracers to bulge as it passes through his arms [1 damage to armor].

 

The light pours itself into Sophitia. She shudders; the energy is clearly a great deal for her body to handle. Her bracers and greaves bulge at the joints as Ryn's did, and her toga tatters slightly, but she has a focal point - a lightning rod. The power concentrates itself in her sword and radiates outward brilliantly. She closes her eyes.

 

[3] Ryn watches through an instinctive squint as she traces an arcane sigil in the air, one clearly recognizable, the other not. The one he recognizes is the same as the sigil on her sword - Ω -. He keeps the memory of the other one, in case he ever needs it some day.

 

With a scream of what sounds like righteous anger, Sophitia brings the sword down, the blade of which veritably shimmers with electric light. To Ryn's surprise, she plunges it neatly into Lysander's chest. There is no blood; the sword has become purely etheric. Like ink in a pool of water, strange tendrils of red energy burst from the wounds in Lysander's neck and the stump of his arm, coalescing into a shimmering sphere roughly the size of a man's head.

 

Without opening her eyes Sophitia withdraws the sword from Lysander's chest, brings it around in a circle, and cleaves the sphere in two. The monstrous energy dissipates like a bad dream.

 

She shudders again and collapses back, flexing her hand. Her sword has returned to normal.

 

"That," she says, panting with exhaustion, is the purification art. I don't think I'll be able to do that again for... a long time."

 

Sophitia stands shakily again. "Thank you, Sir Ryn, for your help. I will rest now."

 

She leaves the room and heads out into the hall. The sound of another door opening and closing can be heard.

 

*

 

"Thank you for your help," says Tyr to the newly obsequious innkeeper. He turns to Cassandra. "Shall we retire for the night?"

 

She nods. "There's been so much loss recently. I think rest would be fantastic."

 

The innkeeper perks up. "My lord and lady, you may have your choice of any room in the upper hall, completely gratis. The staff are away now, but meals will be furnished in the morning."

 

Cassandra favors the innkeeper, who still seems to be positively greasy with terror, with a smile. "You should get some rest too!" she says, and heads on upstairs. After a second or so, she returns and requests the innkeeper for heated water.

 

In retrospect, after the day's hard fighting and running about, everyone smells rather strongly - of sweat, blood (their own and their enemies') and a myriad of other things. Not to mention the rather glaring bloodstain - and the small hole - Cassandra's clothes bear, mark of her little encounter with Lord Sorel.

 

She turns back to Tyr. "And thank you, you and Sir Ryn, for everything. You've saved my sister, me, and what's left of the holy warriors. We owe you so much, and we've only just met."

 

Cassandra smiles at Tyr and returns to the upstairs hall, leaving him alone with the innkeeper, who is giving orders to a young boy who has mysteriously appeared from behind the bar to heat water and acquire a needle and some thread. Probably his son.

___________

 

Kurojin

 

No roll

 

---

 

"There's no need for that," Kurojin says, quietly admonishing the shard-voice in his head. "This one's just a pawn to them."

 

The dragon-man returns his attention to his captive. "'tis my final question, Raimo. Art thou sure thou wishes to continue the search for this 'treasure', even if it cost thy life?"

 

"'s Raimol, m'lord," says the youth dully. "An' if'n you'd been born in a pigsty with nuthin to wear an' less t' eat, riskin' yer life fer a chance at gold wouldn't seem so odd, now, would it?"

 

He seems to be getting snippier. The wind picks up again; an owl can be heard on the wing. The creatures of the night, formerly so quiet, seem to be stirring once again.

___________

[Kuroshu]

"Thou are right, yet thy life should be held higher than some treasure." I answered the man, "Now go, mention not of our meeting to anyone."

 

I quickly leave the mountain area

[roninvoid]

Having realized just how much my power may have taken a toll on Sophitia, as well as how her body is still recovering, I walk to the door to her room and decide to guard it. Just to make certain that I don't miss anything (or anyone, as the case may be), I use my power to scan the inn, as well as to keep track of the members of my current entourage.

 

(Just caught the DMC reference. "I should have been the one to fill your dark soul with light!" Also, lethal? Am I missing something?)

[Nonsense667]

Well, after a long day, I do believe it is time to retire for the night

 

(ooc: I think the key part was potentially)

[roninvoid]

(You're probably right.)

[Sand_Dragon]

[TIME WARP??? TIME WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARP okay no not really.

 

Also I'm going to assume no-one slept in their armor because that's just physically painful.

 

Also nothing much is going to happen in this post, because it's a new day, time to decide things.]

 

Tyr

 

No roll

 

Ryn

 

No roll

 

---

 

The distant chime of bells from the Cattedrale wake Ryn and Tyr from their fitful slumber. The sun is high in the sky. Nine bells - it's three hours from noon. It might be easier to tell the exact time if the High Horse Tavern had a clock or something somewhere, but those infernal gadgets are expensive, and possibly also of the devil.

 

There is no sign yet of either Cassandra or Sophitia. Perhaps Lysander has awakened from his possession.

 

At any rate the streets outside are noisy with marketplace bustle; it would appear to be a market day. The sound of peddlers hawking goods and arguments over prices can be heard even in the cloistered upper rooms of the tavern.

 

There is also a smell of food in the air. 9 of the clock is a bit late for breakfast, but taverns get all sorts. Some of the Watch might be in after the night's shift, or perhaps some of the tavern's other guests (at least, the ones who stayed after the previous night's turmoil) are tucking in.

___________

 

Kurojin

 

Roll = 3

 

---

 

Kurojin attempts to quickly leave the mountain area. However, it is not easy with his wounds. [3] Thankfully his attempts at haste do not aggravate his already damaged body, although he could have very well reopened his injuries. Medical attention might be in order.

 

The sun rises as he makes his descent from the mountain where the dark-skinned wizard so rudely stranded him. It is quite a good thing that he managed to avoid the worst of the wind-chill, but now he will need aid, resources, and perhaps a sense of direction. There are a few smoke-trails from the foot of the mountain, and he can see a few thatched roofs. Genoa still shines in the distance.

 

Perhaps there is a village down there. He would however do well to be cautious, keeping in mind the trouble the men of the countryside have suffered greatly at the hands of lizardman bandits, and are not too particular about the differences between dragon-men and lizard-men.

 

The shard has been dormant these past few hours. Who knows when it will stir again.

___________