Update: I'm planning to post on Wednesday, it will be a time-skip to move each team to their respective mission areas. I'd like this round of posting to be finished up by then.
Guilty Spark Member
A Relic of the Past
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Your right, I probably only wrote one interesting job
Edit: (The coin-badge was bronze, Logrim's is silver.)
Edit: (The coin-badge was bronze, Logrim's is silver.)
@Guilty Spark Ye boi Blightstorm? More like...Uh...More like..Hmm?
That boy ain't right. *shakes head*
As a note to everyone: If your characters do have questions, you can PM me the questions and I'll provide you with an in-character response to insert into your post.
Yooooo
Tell me what you think about adding a notation at the bottom, there are some things characters shouldn't have to explain but you still need to know for context.
Tell me what you think about adding a notation at the bottom, there are some things characters shouldn't have to explain but you still need to know for context.
The gnome swung her feet, which didn't reach the ground, back and forth as she listened to the initiate's introductions with earnest attention. Whimsical though she may seem, she appraised each initiate in turn with a keen eye, and her gaze had an uncanny piercing quality. That all disappeared after Vera's introduction,
"Sheri, Vera and Petra, it's nice to meet you," Kiska stood up on her chair, pulling out a leather bound notebook and flipping briefly through the pages before nodding to herself. "Well then, let's get down to business! Today, hopefully it just takes today, I'll be seeing if you have what Captain Caragan is looking for, don't worry I'm sure you do!"
Kiska took a small wooden case from her belt and set it on the table, opening it in the direction of the three. In the silk-lined interior were five bronze coins, each depicting a young man about to step off a cliff. Kiska deftly snatched two of them up and pocketed them, then turned up her collar to reveal a silver coin pinned beneath bearing the same image.
"This is the guild symbol, the fool, Wayfarers who don't want to attract attention wear it concealed, but you should always carry it with you," not waiting for them to take the badges, she continued. "We get donations from some of the wealthy people who live in Arskel, one of our donors is a merchant named Astor Aelrod. Mr. Astor has been receiving death threats for the past several days and one of his bodyguards has gone missing, your assignment is to meet with him and find out who's responsible, questions?"
As the tensions in the room began to level off, there was a muffled meowing on the other side of the door accompanied by scratching. After just a few seconds, it was followed by an impatient voice.
"Well fuck me then, I'll get it myself," the door swung open to reveal a feline humanoid standing just a few inches shorter than Finn, who's hands were obviously free despite the scrolls he was carrying. Despite his small stature, he moved with a predatory grace as he entered the room, making no sound as he rounded the table to Finn's side and laid out the scrolls.
"I'm late, so I'll catch up on the introductions later. I'm Nyrien, and I'll be handling your initiation," he brushed his hair to the side with a clawed hand. "Alright, so there's a new drug in the Cliff and people are starting to die, now this sounds like Watch work 'cause it normally would be, but this drug has a magic component," with a flourish he revealed a small flask. Resting in the bottom was a chalky looking blue substance that glowed with a faint, almost imperceptible luminescence.
"I don't recommend a taste test. Now for the mission, the Watch has determined they're making this shit in the old tunnels beneath the Cliff," he pointed to a region on one of the scrolls, a basic map of the city. "But the whole thing is a maze. You three are being assigned to find out which section of sewers they're operating in, and bust the operation. Don't be afraid if a few of them get away, the Watch is setting up a net, you got all that?"
He pulled out two bronze-coin pins, and offered them one in each hand to Sera and Qantz-Farron. "Your badge of office, welcome to the guild," on the cuff of his coat was a similar badge in silver, with a numeric "I" engraved at the bottom.
"Well then, now that our introductions are in order," the faun reached into his inner robe pocket and after a brief clinking he pulled out two bronze coins, but the sound indicated several others. Pointing to the silver pin, proudly on his chest, he continued. "These symbols bear the dignity of the Wayfarer's guild, and convey your membership and the reputation therein to any who see them," he gently set one down before Vela, not questioning her blindfold, then set another in front of the still standing Mathias.
"Now, I've already explained the details of this assignment to Rohaan, but I'll make sure everything is in place," he nodded to Rohaan then took a seat, steepled hands resting on the table. "Magister Hesmar is a member of the city council, and operates the Academy here in Arskel. One of his apprentices, Arlathan has stolen an invaluable text, for unknown reasons, and is attempting to escape the city," Suran Reshta opened a scroll case at his side and unfurled a piece of parchment on which a figure was sketched, laying it out on the table.
"This is the sketch being circulated by the Watch, he's been seen in the northern Lake district but has since gone into hiding," he paused, contemplating his next words. "This assignment was given by the Magister, not the Watch, so the goal is to acquire the tome in one piece, understood? Rohaan has lived in the city long enough to understand its layout, so he'll be invaluable as both a guide and combatant, if it's necessary."
Logrim's dark eyes lingered on each of the initiates as they bantered back and forth, getting a feel for each other. He gave a brief nod, before reaching into his belt pouch and pulling four bronze-coin pins. He grunted to get their attention, a deep guttural sound halfway between a cough and a growl.
"Alright, that'll do," he pointed to his shoulder, where a silver-coin was pinned. "These badges mean you're part of the guild, keep 'em on ya," he tossed a coin to each of the four, starting with Kothrias and ending with Khol. "I've heard a lot a talk before, some new faces can back it up and some can't, we're going to find out where each of you stands," his pacing resumed, but with less of the uncertainty from before.
"There's a blight-storm*1 spreading towards Ayrith from Lyragor's Gulf, the breach north of here, and if it makes it there the whole town'll be destroyed, but if the Blight-lord dies the storm'll sputter out," his pacing paused as he looked over the intitiates. "But that's not our job, Adepts have already been sent to kill it," his pacing continued. "No, our job is to clean up the stragglers before they cause too much trouble, so you'll be heading out to the edge of the blight to do some killin'."
[*1A blight-storm is a chaotic maelstrom of magic centered around a cursed being, sometimes an animated tree or undead, known as a blight-lord. The energies released from the storm will corrupt plant-life and awaken plants with evil sentience, which then seek out to kill, destroy and feed off of other living creatures.]
The next post by me should be up Wednesday if everything goes according to plan, otherwise definitely Friday.
Looking good everyone!
@Dark Cloud what do you mean "you people"?
@Haha Who knows, he might be taken already.
C H A P T E R : O N E
From the dust of ages past a new world rises, inheriting the trauma of that which came before. Rends in the earth span miles and spurt the fresh blood of chaotic magics, and the stonework of lost civilizations pushes up from the ground like scar tissue. Around one such scar, its history all but forgotten, is huddled the city of Arskel. To some a dead-end, the last stop on a road to nowhere, to others a shelter for the lost where redemption may yet be found.
From a distance the ruins atop the Cliff struck an imposing silhouette, casting their shadows upon the city beneath, but a closer inspection would reveal their decrepit nature. Vines twisted up through cracks in the crumbling masonry, and much of what remained was supported by the wooden beams of the shanty town that crowded the base of the stonework. Yet in spite of its appearance, it bustled with life. Some stalked its narrow alleys with concealed blades and ill intent, but others stuck together. Gathered around communal fires, they shared what little they had amongst each other and blessed the coming day.
Below, fishing boats had already begun to ply the waters from the Lake district. The morning's catch lay fresh upon tables and in stalls, waiting to be sold or salted. A short distance to the south, uphill and upwind, lay the walled off Gold Quarter of the Lake district. Every inch of the district was in use, while the streets were broader and better maintained than elsewhere in the city, the decadent homes of the wealthy were slotted together as tightly as the more austere portions of the city. The guard here remained on a vigilant patrol against the vagrants that called Arskel their home, and the clubs at their side were typically well-worn.
Beginning on the northern edge and running through the heart of the city was a single artery that connected Arskel to what many considered to be the greatest civilizations the world had to offer, the Road. Nestled between the two extremes, this is where the majority of the citizens resided and carried out their day to day affairs. The streets were crowded by foot traffic, with a rare few mounts and beasts of burden being led by travelers.
At the center of the Road district stood the Wayfarer's Guild, the largest and most renowned guild in Arskel, and in fact the region as a whole. A modest perimeter wall enclosed the compound which housed the main hall, a central tower with two wings extending to the east and south respectively. Several smaller structures that served other miscellaneous functions also lined the inner walls. Today the initiates who had gathered from around Olanthus to seek a new life would begin their trials to become true Wayfarers. Each of them had already been to the guild hall before and been approved by Oswynn Caragan, Junior Vice-Captain in charge of initiation. Some time today, each of them had also received their summons.
Coming through the gates of the compound, the eastern wing of the guildhall was a tall, single-story structure built into the wall it abutted. The three initiates, two elves and one stone dwarf, had been led by an adept into what appeared to be a common area wihin that wing. The high-ceilinged chamber could comfortably seat dozens at the scattered wooden tables distributed haphazardly throughout the room. For the moment, there were only a few groups using the area, having drinks and going over plans in a casual manner. Some had scrolls rolled out on the table and were leaning over them, pointing and commenting in voices that couldn't be heard from where the group stood.
At a table near the entrance, a dainty ice-gnome in polished armor sat nursing a tankard of what was likely ale.
"Good morning! I'm so glad you all- Oh, there's only three of you?" Her expression went from chipper, to disappointed before bouncing back again. "Never mind that, I'm your handler, Kiska! And you are?"
Finn found himself in one of the guild's briefing rooms. It was a rather bare room with none of the adornments that were typical of the southern wing. These plain briefing rooms were typically used for initiations, which he would know considering he had gone through this process himslf several years ago. In the center there was a round wooden table with sturdy chairs, and a shuttered window looked out onto the training squares in the guild courtyard. Other than that the room was empty, that is except the two new faces to the guild, hoping perhaps to find fame and fortune, or maybe accomplish more mundane goals? There was no way for him to know yet.
What Finn might have noticed, however, is that there was supposed to be a Handler with him. He had been told that he would be filling a spot on an initiation assignment, as there had been an unusual number of no-shows, but he had yet to be briefed on exactly what that assignment was.
On the other side of the common area from the first team, a faun stood at the head of another table with a red-skinned figure beside him. Although he was attired in simple robes, his bearing was calm and confident, almost regal. He made a polite gesture for the initiates to sit as they arrived, but whether or not they chose to he continued.
"Welcome to the Wayfarer's Guild, I hope you find it to your liking. I'm your handler, Suran Reshta," the introduction might have come off as canned, but perhaps that's what happened after years of greeting initiates. He gestured to the figure beside him. "And this is Rohaan, we have a few missing faces, nothing to worry about, so he will be taking their place." Had there been a crack in his façade when he said nothing to worry about?
"Alright. You four will be working together on this one," the orc, with his gravelly voice and stoic expression, struck an imposing figure, or at least he would have were it not for the giant-blooded Khol. He seemed unfazed by the group before him, as if it were just another Monday in the guild. "I'm Logrim. After you've introduced yourselves, I'll go over the details of the mission and we'll see what you've got."
The five of them, four initiates and their handler, stood in one of the training squares in front of the proper guildhall. Logrim had been pacing a rut in the grass since the first one had arrived, and finally seemed to settle down at the last appearance.
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