POOHEAD189

Deck the Guild!

I don't know if I'll have the opportunity to decorate, but I am moving so I might send a pic then!

:<<

welcome!

Fire Emblem: The Slumbering Goddess

The House Leaders Meet

(An Obscene Symphony, Scribe of Thoth, and POOHEAD189 collab)

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Auberon looked between the two professors with momentary confusion displayed clear across his face at Professor Ka- Michail’s insistence on calling him by name. He caught on quickly that the two were related; he hadn’t noticed prior. Not that he’d seen much of… female Professor Kalonic to begin with. It explained why she was so comfortable whacking his teacher with a stick, in any case.

As far as names went, though, Auberon couldn’t say he was fond of ‘Little Galatea’. At least ‘young Lord Galatea’ or even just ‘Auberon’ if Michail wanted to veer away from the strictly formal. (Un)fortunately, his irritation didn’t last long; any displeasure at Michail evaporated once Cousin von Riegan started getting handsy. Was this what passed for proper decorum in the godless wastes of Leicester? No wonder his ancestors made the wise choice of splitting from their house and swearing vassalage to the Kingdom of Faerghus. He was so preoccupied with the arm fondling his shoulder he almost didn’t catch his fellow House Leader’s explanation of their duties. This was considered a respectable peer that he needed to work with? The Goddess continued to test him, it seemed. Thankfully, nothing Jorah had described seemed beyond his abilities, and if this guy was deemed fit for the task, Auberon had no doubt he’d be up to the challenge.

When Jorah finally released him, Auberon kept up his uncomfortably stiff posture for a few moments more before he cleared his throat and allowed himself to relax. Now Jorah wanted to try this stunt on the other House Leader? Goddess above, the Riegans were either managing a zoo in place of a family or this guy had a very odd method of politicking. Auberon’s first thought was to answer with a decisive ‘no’, but he had to admit, getting acquainted with the Black Eagle leader was probably prudent. If he didn’t find an island of sanity to cling to during their House Leader meetings, he’d at least have fair warning in the unlikely event their third compatriot and House Riegan’s court jester got along swimmingly.

“I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting anyone outside my own house yet, I’m afraid. I’m Auberon Casimir Galatea. It’s been… an experience meeting you,” The blond finally answered. It was probably the nicest way he could put it; he didn’t realize any among the nobility allowed themselves to act with that much eccentricity in public until they were old and half-mad. He sent a longing gaze toward Kellen and that ashen haired girl briefly before continuing. This was his punishment for putting duty first, it seemed; if he’d tended to his housemates first, Jorah might’ve already walked off by the time he approached Michail. “Which classroom belongs to the Eagles?”

Oooo, Auberon didn't like that, did he? Focused as he was on his performance, Jorah was a little delayed in noticing the subtle air of distaste coming from his new fellow leader, and had to contain his grin. The other boy almost felt like his father, in a way; a little quieter about it, but the same energy of shock and disapproval at his antics. Jorah wasn't sure how he felt about that, but decided to take it in stride. Much like with his father, if he couldn't loosen Auberon up, he could at least enjoy “surprising” him further.

At the question, Jorah spun on his heel, making a show of appraising the classrooms at the edge of the courtyard. He already knew The Golden Deer room was on one far end - apparently with a bit of a crowd gathering in front of it, he should probably check that out at some point before Clarissa dragged him over by the ear - and judging by the banners hanging next to each doorway, the Blue Lions room was right in the middle. Only one left then, and even he could manage the process of elimination.

Turning back to Auberon, Jorah pointed to the room at the other extreme of the courtyard. “Probably the one with the red and black banner,” he offered innocently, though his grin betrayed his amusement. Contrary to the other two, no one was really collected around the Black Eagles classroom; with any luck that meant most of them were still inside, and there'd be an audience to their introduction. The more the merrier!

“Hopefully our fellow leader is still home,” Jorah commented absently, not waiting for a response before strutting off in the direction of the classroom.

Rather than enter, however, he simply hung off the door frame, sticking his head into the room. Jorah recalled the Empire being touchy about their borders; it wouldn't do to impose. Inside, a few students were still in their seats (aside from one who was standing and looking full of herself), and judging by the queer combination of tension and haughty disinterest in the room, something awkward was transpiring. What an excellent time to interrupt!

“Afternoon!” Jorah announced cheerily, completely defying the uncomfortable feel of the room, “By any chance, would your illustrious leader be in? His or her humble contemporaries--” he punctuated the word with a weird sideways bow, “--request an audience.”

”So anyway, I just told the priest ‘if you’re going to be like that then just get out of here.’” The Prince remarked to the three Black Eagles who had given him their attention. He’d already agreed to go and have lunch with two of them. But everything seemed to shift when Veronica walked up to him and cooly announced she was to be his future bride. Needless to say, Kayden’s face went stark white, and he looked around for any means of escape before his salvation had appeared at the doorway.

“Yes!” He cried in a broken voice to Jorah, pulling at his collar. ”You can uh, my...yes we can speak.”

The Prince stood out of his seat as smoothly as he could, giving a bow to his fellows and Veronica, before all but scrambling out of the classroom and into the hallway, closing the door behind him like a caged bull had been at his heels. Once he was outside, his voice was noticeably more measured, his manner as fine as silk, though his foot stayed on the door.. “Yes, it is my pleasure to make your acquaintance. Who might you be?”

The spike of excited relief that shot through Jorah as the dark-haired boy jumped to his feet was nearly enough to make him jump himself, and once more he had to resist the urge to laugh as the apparent final addition to their leadership trio tripped over himself in his haste to get out of the door. Judging by that and the pallor that covered his face like a shroud, Jorah ventured a guess that this was probably the source of that discomfort he’d been feeling. Weird, he would totally have bet it was the stiff one standing at attention or the girl shrinking into her chair, but apparently the Eagles were already full of surprises. He could only hope this awkwardness stemmed from some off-colour conversation he’d interrupted; one uptight peer he could have fun with, but two would just turn into a chore.

“Jorah von Riegan, at your service,” he declared grandly, punctuating his introduction with another theatrical bow. Goddess, at this rate he’d have his brain stuck to the top of his skull by the time the afternoon was done, but the flair was definitely worth it. Gesturing back toward Auberon, he added, “and my stately-paced friend there is the esteemed Auberon Galatea. It looks like the three of us will be the acting House Leaders this year.”

Crossing his arms, he couldn’t resist a little bit of teasing, raising an eyebrow at the man. “Not nervous, are you? You’re looking a little wan.”

Auberon, to his credit, didn’t even flinch at Jorah’s theatrics this time. The introduction wasn’t horrible, though the last bit could do with some changing - Jorah was the only one acting House Leader, Auberon was fairly certain he and this other guy simply were. As long as he didn’t become obnoxious the moment he came out of his shell a bit, at least; the Eagles leader was looking a bit tense even before he’d approached them.

“Don’t mind him. It’s nice to meet you,” he tacked on to Jorah’s prodding in an attempt to distance himself from… whatever the Riegan was playing at.

“House Leaders?” Kayden echoed, drawing himself to his full stature and actually giving the two a proper look. They could have been snake oil salesmen and he would have shot off with them, but this meeting seemed to be one he needed to be a part of. Taking stock of the two, he felt it made sense they were of their station. Their pedigree, or at least their manner was evident, and they were [i]nearly]/i] as handsome as he was.

“No I’m fine, I just saw someone that didn’t agree with my stomach.” He stated, not caring to further elaborate. Perhaps he would get to know her later, but having the future queen appear in the midst of his class without prior knowledge to it was not what he expected. His father had to have known, the bastard. “It is an honor to meet you two as well. I see you’ve already gotten acquainted with one another. How do you two feel on your houses this year? I haven’t spoken to many of my classmates, though...that is my own fault at this moment.”

Jorah really did burst into laughter that time, doubling over at the as-yet-unnamed Eagle’s comment. ‘Saw someone who didn’t agree with his stomach’? Oh, he was absolutely stealing that. Maybe for the next time he was forced to meet with Duke Riegan.

Ah, but this was more like it! Still a little stiff, still a little worried about something, but thankfully loosening up by the minute. Maybe Auberon would take the hint and let his hair down a little too, but Jorah wasn’t in much of a rush to see him change. He did need someone to ground the group for those monthly meetings, lest his every spare moment be filled with Clarissa’s voice in his ear, probably accusing him of converting his fellow House Leaders to his indolent, lecherous ways.

Oh, but the new guy straightened up soon enough, quick to put a damper on Jorah’s fun with formalities. Jorah still couldn’t quite wipe the joyous grin off his face, but he did deign to straighten up, stretching his arms up over his head. Hm, these two each had a few inches on him; maybe that’d make him easier to miss when he tried to shirk his meetings.

“I can’t claim I’ve met all my housemates either, but there’s plenty of time for that. Rushing around shaking hands and administering greetings isn’t much of a first impression anyway,” he reasoned, wrinkling his nose. He was a people person, yeah, but he wasn’t about to parade himself around like some Councilman at his debut. Besides, Clarissa would eventually drag him around to each student anyway. Speaking of…

“Still, I’m confident the Golden Deer will shape up quite nicely,” he added smugly, glancing between the other two. Into what shape, he wasn’t sure, but it was a good saying nonetheless. “Not because of me, Goddess knows, but luckily I have Fódlan’s most capable advisor to guide me.”

Well, at least Jorah had honesty where he lacked respectability. Though it was beyond Auberon as to why this advisor wasn’t given the position of House Leader if they were to be the voice behind the throne, as it were. At least Auberon didn’t seem to be behind compared to the other two. If anything, he was faring better than they were. Nevertheless, the Eagle’s question bothered him. He spoke to exactly one of his housemates, which was hardly in line with his earlier speech of solidarity. Fortunately, he had faith and sentiment to spare where concrete assurances had yet to be found.

“The Goddess would not set a pious man up to fail. I’m certain all the other Lions will find themselves quite up to the challenges the professors put before us, or She would not have brought them here to begin with,” he answered assertively, as if he had already convinced himself of the truth in his words, “I’m sure everyone will get to know each other soon, though I hope no one is too averse to cooperation. I think we’re responsible for inter-House mediation if an issue springs up.”

If Jorah was the norm for the Alliance students - or worse, a paragon of behavior by their standards - Auberon had a feeling he’d be involved in quite a few of those. At least he seemed relatively harmless; anyone that was feeling mad over words could just take swings at him during combat practice. The Eagle seemed a bit too uptight to be causing many issues - he was too frazzled to even introduce himself properly, it seemed - but he was by his own admission preoccupied with whoever ‘didn’t agree with his stomach’ in there. Definitely a good idea to establish a rapport with the Eagles quickly and hopefully pressure Jorah into falling in line, in any case.

The Lion’s Leader seemed a little put off by his question. Kayden had a tendency with being a bit too casual to people whom he just met. He always liked to appear as if he knew someone so they would feel more comfortable around him. It was how he was taught to interact with soldiers in the army. “Forgive me, I’ve a military mind and should not treat this academy at such, at least in every sense. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Kayden Von Hresvelg, Prince of the Adrestian Empire. And it truly is good to meet you both. I hear this is the first year the Academy is divvying up into our respective classes, which implies we’ll likely be in competition at some point. I’m glad to meet here rather than in some contest our professors pit us in.”

He gave an easy-going smile, though as usual there was a fire in his eyes that spoke he wasn’t too put off by the prospect of a competitive arena. He looked Jorah’s way, referring to the fellow’s earlier statement. “Believe me, a good advisor is worth a hundred loyal swords. Count yourself lucky, my friend.”

Despite it all, he was carefully watching their mannerisms and the way they moved and spoke. Kayden didn’t like to think he was paranoid, but he did have a healthy level of awareness. At least, that’s what he liked to think. Had any of his siblings survived the plague, he would have had a slightly less strict upbringing, but being the only child his mind had been sculpted to think of anything in either an administrative fashion, or a military one. Well, most things. Women, food, and nice music were generally when he let himself relax.

Jorah nodded along with Auberon, even if he didn’t personally think much on either side of the matter of piety. It was good to see his initial appraisal of the boy was pretty close, but more at the forefront of his mind was that Clarissa would probably get along well with him; maybe he should try to introduce them before their first meeting. Unless they met in the Cathedral first, he supposed.

But Auberon’s piety was quickly overshadowed by the new guy’s - Kayden’s - introduction. Prince of the Empire? Jorah could have sworn all the imperial children died of the plague, though he supposed that was pretty silly in hindsight; even he knew that the Empire would have been consumed by civil war if the Emperor ran out of heirs, and it would have been pretty hard to ignore if the Alliance’s Western neighbour suddenly caught on fire. Still, this guy must have lost like, all of his siblings, right? Did that make him the crown prince? Was he about to be having monthly meetings with the future Adrestian Emperor?

Huh. Cool!

Jorah had to grin. He couldn’t wait to get home and tell his father all about drinking and singing with the next Adrestian Emperor. Maybe he’d finally learn there were other ways to network than over the Roundtable’s… well, table. Kayden’s whole “military man” outfit might get in the way of that sort of merriment, but it wasn’t like Duke Riegan could tell the difference.

He was well enough aware of Clarissa’s value; he’d have considered her a friend first, but even the blind could see that she was the catalyst to every one of his rare “noble” successes. She was better at dragging him to his classes than any of his tutors ever were, but he wasn’t about to sing her praises any more; if it got back to her that he was lauding her as a saviour, she’d be so smug he’d never hear the end of it.

Instead, he considered the comment on competition. “You’re right; it’s much more fun to compete with people you know,” he agreed, donning a mischievous grin, “though I must warn you, if it’s hunting we’re competing at, my fellows and I will put up one hell of a fight.” He shrugged, letting out a chuckle. “Or dancing on tabletops, but I think that competition might have to happen off the record.”

Auberon did a double-take toward Kayden at first. Well, that explained the lack of an introduction - he’d probably never needed one before in his life. All the more reason to ingratiate himself with the Eagles’ leader - this was quite the opportunity, even outside the Academy. Even more so if he managed to outclass the future sovereign. Not that he was one for boasting, but he’d seen that glint in Kayden’s eye when he brought up the competitive aspects of their education, and the blond was more than prepared to reciprocate. Honestly? He kind of wanted to take them down just for the experience.

“Apologies, Your Highness, I didn’t recognize you,” Auberon admitted, but made a point not to bow or make any other submissive gestures. A prince that was not his prince was no man to cower before. “I hope your military mind won’t be too wounded when my Lions prove themselves the rulers of the animal kingdom in all our mock battles, though.” The boy gave the two a pleasant smile, just enough to make it clear the sly determination written across the rest of his face didn’t come from a place of malice.

Surprisingly, Jorah was almost enjoyable when the prospect of besting him in combat was set before Auberon. At least his seeming disregard for every facet of his station didn’t apply to his position as acting general to his House in their metaphorical war against the other two - a neutered deer with no antlers was hardly a worthy adversary, and defeating the Eagles alone was only half of a full victory.

Kayden was amused at their different approaches to future contests. Not in a disparaging way, but it was nice to see neither of them were domineering about it. He shook his head and held a hand up at chest level to indicate apologies weren’t needed. He truly wasn’t used to introductions other than at peace summits, he needed to get more acquainted with such things.

“You might be right,” He said to Auberon. “As you said, you don’t very much know your classmates and I’m only getting to know mine. Maybe yours are born for this and mine aren’t. Or maybe you’re a better leader than I am. I know something for a surety though…” He said, looking Auberon directly in eyes. “I intend to find out.” His easy smile had never left his face, and now both his arms were behind his back. He felt like he needed to leave soon, else the door behind him would open again and she might pop up. He’d meet her on his own terms at some point. For now he was too hungry and in too good of a mood for that. “But that’s a worry for tomorrow, eh? It’s refreshing to meet you both. So, how do you like your teachers? Mine is apathetic to most everything and I’m not sure that’s a good thing.”

Jorah crossed his arms as competitive tensions rose, glancing thoughtfully between the two other leaders as they shared their little moment. He wasn’t sure if he’d call himself competitive - Delia would probably sooner use the word “reckless” or “showoff” - but if there was really going to be competition between the Houses (which, by the sound of the Battle of the Eagle and Lion, there’d be at least one sizeable one), he wasn’t about to throw the match. He liked to think of himself as more of a lover than a fighter, but he had been hunting ever since he’d learned to keep his balance on horseback; it was one of the very few skills of his that the Duke deemed “fitting of his station” or whatever such nonsense he always spouted on about. Maybe he could translate those skills into those mock battles, although he struggled to think of a way to convert arrows into something less deadly. Maybe the monastery had some proprietary magical method; maybe they just replaced the broadheads with feather puffs covered in chalk dust and tallied up the dots to choose a winner. He had to smile at the thought - and was suddenly very interested in finding out.

“Our teachers?” he interjected at their mention, nudging Auberon playfully with an elbow. “Well, as luck would have it, it seems ours are siblings! I don’t know if you saw earlier, but mine was the captivating one beating a Knight of Seiros with a stick; his was the one receiving the beating.” Jorah laughed, giving Auberon a wink. “If that’s the rivalry we have to look forward to, then dare I say it should be a very exciting year!”

Oh, Auberon was definitely not losing to the Eagles now. Kayden was clearly goading him and he was never one to turn down a challenge like that, even if he had to personally drag every Lion out of bed in the wee hours of the morning to train. Fortunately, Kayden moved on when it seemed everyone had made their point; no reason to let friendly tension become unfriendly. He let out a brusque hum as Jorah nudged him, clearly unamused with the resumption of his earlier touching, even if tame by comparison. The fact that the Riegan had the audacity to wink sent Auberon into a state somewhere between mild revulsion, simmering irritation, and considering the ramifications of punching a fellow House Leader in the nose on day one. Of course, he’d only consider it - he was raised better than that even when the competitive spirit was overriding his higher thinking.

“Indeed, Professor Ka- erm, Professor Michail wasn’t what I was expecting from Garreg Mach, but I trust in a Knight of Seiros’ competence regardless of demeanor. Hopefully I’ll be able to say the same about Jorah at some point.” He met the Riegan heir in question’s gaze with a shit-eating grin unbecoming of his status briefly.

Laughter threatened Jorah once more at that, but he managed to retain a bit of composure and settle for an amused shake of the head instead. Auberon really was like his father; that spike of irritation at the slightest step outside of propriety, that vaguely warning, vaguely disappointed tone veiled by a thin smile; of Auberon had brown hair, gold eyes and a sharper chin, he'd be ready to rule Derdriu by the end of the week. The similarities probably should have irritated him, but there was something fun in the idea of a proxy of his father kicking around to antagonize without consequences. At the very least, he wouldn't feel homesick.

“You and me both my friend, though we’ll certainly be waiting,” he chuckled, playfully grasping Auberon’s shoulder. This aversion of his to touch would certainly be interesting; he wondered if that ran down to the core or if there was any way to help him let his hair down. He’d find out sooner or later. “I really should get you acquainted with my friend, you and her would get along splendidly.”

Kayden liked these two. They would certainly be fun to have as rivals and peers. As the prince went to speak again, the bell rang just beside them. He blinked, realizing he would certainly need to get used to that. It was only when he realized the class behind him was about to spill out that he got nervous though. He turned and faced the two leaders politely.

“If you’ll excuse me, I need to get the fuck out of here.”

The Sunday Group - Bumps in the Night

I'm always up for continuing my ancient and powerful eunuch!

In the Hills, In the Valleys (fantasy faction RP)

@Flagg Technology level? Are there any limitations on the types of sword or armor?

The Blackwood

Thank you! I will be sure to use this power responsibly (and not just pour it into Singing to give Cillian the voice of an angel). Should I just edit the new figures into my Character Sheet?

@Romero

Yep! Just add them in wherever you wish :)
And let me know where you added them so I can let you know if you got a special ability or not.

The Blackwood

Congrats to @Luminosity & @Romero for being the first players to level up their characters! Give it up for them!

The Blackwood

Saskia plucked the coin from his hand, a small 'ping' echoing when the metal touched one the undersides of her rings. She looked as pleased as any money grubber when presented with money, though it was plain to see that Cillian's tale had softened her mood and endeared her a bit. Calvin took a large swig of his ale while Saskia scooted over and let Cillian sit there beside her. The Elf placed the coins in her coinpurse and then cupped her hands around her flagon, taking a swig herself.

"The Blackwood, yes. I assume you'd want to hear about the local woods, right?"

"The dangers?" Calvin piped in, trying to be helpful. It was evident he also wanted to hear, like a child hearing a ghost story for the thrill and entertainment.

"Of course." Saskia laughed lightly. "Keep in mind I don't know every terror you might face, but my information is reliable. The local woods aren't too dangerous. Maybe a Varghulf pack here or there, or a chimera looking to feast. Or bandits, of course." The prospects were but a muse to her as she considered.

"Now, if you are to travel northwards, you'll find the Blackwood Baronies. Petty lords fighting for territory over Gorthaur the Wraithking's shattered lands. Some say the Wraithking, or at least some of his minions, still reside there. To the east, wretched bogs and dense forests of fey spirits. If you're lucky you'll run into a Centaur or an Elf, though they are not of my kin and will shoot you if you haven't a good reason to be there. Even for me, it is hard to determine what they would want. I do hear some of the forest gods demand a sacrifice."

"Heard some nastiness, I have." Calvin said. "Some people get taken by them and are never seen again."

Saskia shrugged. "Couldn't say what happens to them. Maybe they're taken to the broken realm of the fey? Either way, your biggest worry is southwards. I hear a large horde of Orcs is passing through the southern Blackwood, and there have been rumors of demon cults in some of the fortified towns. Not to mention the Dragon..."

The Elf took a huge swig of her drink, and clapped it back onto the table as any hard man would. "The roads are difficult eastward. The north is likely the safest in terms of travel, but in staying? Not too sure. Hope this helped."

Hider

LEVEL UP

You gain 2 skill points to spend them where you like!

@Romero

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"No problem." Po said to her easily, one hand on his staff, though he looked a bit embarrassed a moment later. "Sorry, I didn't invite him, but he did save my life before and insisted on coming."

As for her question, he seemed to sober up a bit. "A Dragon. Maybe. Not the one that Ithaca said you saw, but another one, we think. No one really knows for sure, but people have gone through the Murkrift before and lived. We might need to if the Orcs aren't gone within a day. For now I think we'll just move north until we can be sure." Behind them both, Orek fished into his pocket and paid Phyrrae a small price of coins for her victory over him in their board game. To make the Dwarf's mood even more sour, Sinclair made it to him and gave a bow.

"Monsieur Dwarf, I am ready for adventure." He proclaimed, politely inclining his head to the Dwarf, hand on the hilt of his admittedly beautiful sword. His accent was as thick as ever and hard to make out. "I am packed and have food for two days travel. When is the next city we will make berth at?"

"Three days." Orek said, sardonically cheerful. He picked himself up off his seat on the porch and smiled to the man. Kane had already made it to the foot of the gate, standing there like a primordial guardian. Sinclair's face turned comically distraught. "Assuming it hasn't been razed to the ground by Orcs, and that's also assuming we don't go through the Murkrift bog, which we probably will. Anymore questions or can we begin our trek?"

"Erh..." Sinclair seemed at a loss for words.

"We'll discuss it when we make camp tonight." Po piped in, having stepped forward beside them. His easy going smile defused the sternness of the conversation in a fashion. "Don't worry Sinclair, I've plenty of food to share. Plus everything in the Blackwood is huge. Whatever food is in there, it'll fill us up."

"Provided it's not poisonous" Phyrrae said, striding past Sinclair who glanced at her the way an unwanted man often did. Her scowl had him looking away, however. Phyrrae made her way beside Mari, a strange star-headed scepter in the elven woman's hand. As the group made it to the gate, Kane let out a burst of flame from his mouth, halting all conversation for the moment. It was akin to a bonfire being shot out of the mouth of a small crocodile.

"Let us embark!" He announced.
@Luminosity

Hider

LEVEL UP

You gain 2 skill points to spend them where you like!

Dogs of War: Old World Mercenaries

Amal grinned when the Dwarf had commented on his bandit-like look. It was strange seeing a Dwarf so deep within a human city. He had dealt plenty with the squat people in his native land, but always by the docks to trade and sell wares before departing again on human ships or the strange steel contraptions they used to go under the waves. He had heard stories late at night on where the Dwarf homeland resided, and he guessed they were simply closer to it here in the Empire.

The Dwarf let out an "Oooh!" when he saw the crown, thick fingers twiddling in the air as if being near the thing brought him tingles. As he lifted it up carefully, Emmaline placed a few of the other items that they had procured down on the table, though Nobby's attention was wholly on the crown at the moment. Amal took this opportunity to peek outside, a horse-drawn carriage clopping past on the paved stone streets. Emmaline trusted the establishment, and he would too. But he didn't trust any other like as not unsavory customers that made their way in.

"This crown is fifteen hundred years old, fashioned by fairly skilled men-folk smiths. Very well preserved..." He turned the circular base of it around, his eyes boring into the make of it unlike any human could. "If I'd hazard a guess, and that's what I bleedin' do, this might be the lost crown of Boris Goldgather." The epiphany had Emmaline gasp slightly at their impeccable fortune if Nobby was right, and he'd never been wrong before.

"Boris Goldwhat?" Amal remarked curiously.

"Boris Goldgather." Emmaline corrected. "He was an infamous and unpopular Emperor in the distant past. He died of plague, apparently. Buried in an unknown location." Amal had already started laughing before she even finished her next statement. "Which means we beat the shit out of a dead Emperor."

"You did what?" The Dwarf asked incredulously.

"How much is it worth?" Emmaline asked while Amal tried to get ahold of himself. By his perspective it was quite funny, traveling to his girlfriend's home country and robbing her ancient liege lord. Amal would be in high spirits all day. Nobby scoffed at the very question, raising the crown up again to admire the fine craftsmanship.

"Normally it would be around sixteen hundred gold peices, but considering the historical value? Likely thrice that, though it would be hard for even me to sell it on that premise. The Reiksgard would be at my door in an instant. As for the other stuff..."

The Dwarf spent the next minute appraising the items, which came down to the pendant being of elven make and costing around eight hundred gold coins, the brass teacup costing three hundred silver schillings due to historical significance, and the Emperor's arming sword costing around one hundred and fifty gold, though if they found the other bit of the blade it would quadruple in price unless they sought to give it to the Imperial academy. The silk was standard but well preserved, easily being a twelve hundred silver schillings. It seemed they had a lot to think about, and if they wanted to sell all of them to Nobby they would need to wait a day while he procured funds.

"While we think, what's the situation been like in Altdorf?" Emmaline asked her old friend.

"Oh, you can call this city an authentic Dragon Pearl if you catch my meaning." The Dwarf said, causing Emmaline to blush. "Old Franz sent most of the army north to handle those Chaos boys in Archaeon's horde. You'd think that would give us a bit of a reprieve but the good Marshal Ludendolf and his Reiksgard have the streets under strict watch, and there's even some White Wolves sniffing about. Not that is stops the gangs, only now they're getting more dangerous. Thieves in this city used to be respectful to each other. Now they kill one another on sight so the witness doesn't tell anyone willing to pay who stole what."

It sounded like an exciteable win win to Amal, particularly because they'd double their riches this time tomorrow.
@Penny

The Official RPG Writer's Club!

Room for one more?