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Post by HorizonsDream on Dec 19, 2019 0:35:32 GMT -8
Ravarie remains to keep the hood of her cloak over her head, but much like it was pointed out earlier by Nonna, she does have an accent that probably isn't fairly familiar in these parts. "I can't really speak for him, but he knows more than me at any rate," she admits.
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Post by Amarathis on Dec 19, 2019 0:53:11 GMT -8
Griffons are Stubborn beasts.
From the moment they emerge from the egg, clawing and tearing their way free to open air, it's as if every fiber of their very being yearns to never be so bound against their will ever again. They set their eagle's eyes upon a target and pursue it with a vicious, unyielding single-minded determination. It is a Will that precious chosen few can match, even among the deft, and stubborn Elven peoples, and it was said by many that to watch a Griffon and Rider together was to see the bery essence of true Majesty and Grace. The power of Wild Nature itself, in concert and harmony with Elven Magnificen-
"Baaaaallls!!!" The rider shouted as the Avian creature landed with a heavy crash in the square, the sound reverberating along with the rider's cry. Kava had done it again. She'd gone and gotten excited for the long and tiresome flight to be over with, and had all but rushed the ground in her haste to be done with it. She wasn't inexperienced or unable to perform a more dignified landing, but, rather, she saw no reason to do so in this moment, with no danger in sight, and the smell of food and promise of rest so near. And she, like most of her kind, was not one to let herself be dissuaded easily.
Some had heard of the Qualinesti Windriders, whose crest the barding of the great beast bore, an august Order of Knights of the Sky. Paragons of Elven Virtues and Honours. Gleaming figures settled atop their Griffon mounts, resplendent in armor that would no doubt be an example of some of the finest armorsmiths available to the Sylvan nations, Shining examples of the refined poise and finesse that such humanoids were well-known for. These people would thus probably have been quite surprised by the disheveled, hide-wrapped, and tattooed figured who practically fell from his saddle, catching himself with gloved hands against the pavement.
Rathis grumbled to himself, running a hand theough the tousled mane of his auburn hair, annoyed that he'd seen that dismount so deftly done so often, but still proved incapable of it himself. Pawing at his armor and breeches in a vain attempt to dust them off, Amarathis began to head off towards the Temple of Shinare, anxious to either board Kava for a bit, or to be off again on the start of another quest for the temple. He'd gone for several paces, his bowlegged gait distinctive against the pavement, before he realized that Kava was not following, the great beast's eyes locked onto a far stable. Without even a pause of hesitation, Rathis turned on his heel, and all but snatched the reins up in his hand.
"Come along," he told his festhered friend, half-surprised when she didn't move at first, (but only half) tugging a bit harder on the reins. After a few moments, and many promises, treats, and cajolements, Griffon and Elf finally began the walk towards the Temple of Shinare, Eager for rest, but not-so-secretly hoping it would be another quest. He was already anxious for Something to get Kava out of the gods-forsaken city and back on the road. She was his friend, his mount, and his partner, but she was also not particularly known for her patience, and there was little most could do once she'd set her mind to something. Even Amarathis, her bonded elf, could only do so much at that point.
So he plodded along with her, striding down the street with head held-high and waving with friendliness from his free-hand, intending to speak with the administration at the Temple and inquire about another Job, or quest that needed done. And, failing that, he would board his mount, and find himself a proper drink, and a few minutes to unwind, for he was now as deadset upon either Occupation or Relaxation as his Griffon was against idleness.
And, as it has been said, Griffons are Stubborn Beasts.
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Rax
Dicemaster
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Post by Rax on Dec 19, 2019 12:06:15 GMT -8
"I am Dorias Mar-Quon, Cavalier of Ergoth," Dorias introduces himself to the scarred man. "My family has held lands around Zhea Harbour for many generations. I have been...away...for the past two years and only just arrived back today."
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Post by Daos on Dec 19, 2019 14:19:50 GMT -8
Grognak, Ravarie, Dorias and Gerrard (Blue Bird Inn, Common Room) "Cavalier?" Old Bill repeats, surprised. "No kidding? You ever meet the Emperor then?"
Rathis (Square of Justice) Rathis tugs along on Kava's reigns as they walk toward what some in the city affectionately call 'the temple district,' although it's hardly large enough to be considered a district. It consists of only three temples--one to Habbakuk, one to Zeboim and one to Shinare--plus a small shrine dedicated to all of the gods. Kava resists a bit, but she's always a tad ornery when in a city. The musk of horseflesh is too strong here, and it drives her a bit wild.
The two approach the temple to Shinare, which is so much more than just a place of worship. It is also a moneylending institution, a contract house, a guild hall, a mercenary chapter house, and even a small shipping and delivery company. The temple is a large circular structure with outer rooms, galleries and workshops surrounding a central worship chamber. But first, Rathis had to move around to the back where a second stable house had been built. The main stable house was up front and much larger, and specifically for horses. A second, smaller one was built around back--far from the first one--for griffons and other more exotic mounts. It didn't get much use, but it was well worth the coin spent building it, as the last thing anyone wants is to put a griffon in a stable full of horses.
As usual, Kava would be the only occupant of the back stable house this day. After removing her barding and saddle, patting her down, and getting her settled, he then enters the temple itself.
Rathis knows the priest who leads the temple fairly well by now--an unusual dwarven man named Administrator Bulin Galrald. Galrald was a mountain dwarf, one of the Hylar clan, which were a very rare sight this far from the mountain kingdom of Thorbardin. He never spoke of his past, however, and instead kept his focus on the future; and on keeping the temple running smoothly and profitably.
The skyrider finds the administrator in his office, at his desk, doing paperwork. It seemed Galrald was always doing paperwork, but he seemed to enjoy it well enough. He is a middle-aged dwarf, with auburn hair cut with precision, piercing hazel eyes, and a meticulously trimmed beard. Glancing up from his ledgers as Rathis entered, he says, "Ah, Rathis. Welcome back. Everything went well, I take it?"
Maessalathasa (Avanthis Manor, Courtyard) "Wait!" Galla calls after her. Lifting the hem of her dress, she daintily moves down the stairs into the courtyard, and meets up with Maessalathasa before she reaches the front gate. She palms something small and cold in her hand. "Consider it a final bit of severance pay. Don't worry, it's of no value to me; I have a drawer full of them. But on a cold day, it might come in handy for you." She gives her one final hug goodbye, and then moves back to the front door to get out of the cold.
Opening her hand, the monk finds a beautiful silver ring; probably worth a handful of steel, if sold to the right vendor.
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Post by Amarathis on Dec 19, 2019 16:23:47 GMT -8
Rathis shook his hair from his face and offered the dwarf a wry grin, "For the most part, Aye. There was a little Turbulence about halfway in, nothing Kava couldn't handle." His hands, still in their thick gloves made the typical "Smooth Sailing" motions in the air as he spoke, before they dropped, and his face turned deadly serious. "However, there Was this One cloud that looked Particularly Sinister. We had to double back twice for reconnaissance and size it up. Make sure we could take it, you understand. It was a Fierce battle, Claws and Steel and Cloudstuff Everywhere. A true and worthy opponent, it fought to the last, I think it even rained on us at one point, but it proved no match for Shinare's Champions." His head nodded solemnly, voice dripping with sincerity in every word, his eyes gently closed as if in dire remembrance, opening in dramatic fashion once he was certain their intended message had been received, "My one regret is that there was not a Wordsmith nearby to capture the Epic Last Stand of Cumulous the Great."
At this, He clapped his hands together, fingers laced in a pleading gesture, youthful fae-voiced now devoid of his farcical sincerity and filled with something bordering on desperation, as he stared at the dwarf in boundless hope, "Come on, Administrator, You know that I'm always Proud to Serve the Silver Mistress in whatever way is needed. But don't you have Something more... I don't Know, Exciting that we could do for her? Slaying some Beast hounding innocent Merchants on a road? Hunting down some Thieving Miscreant or Dishonest Businessman? Something? Anything? ...please?"
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Post by Kvard51 on Dec 19, 2019 18:40:29 GMT -8
Hearing the surprise in Bill's voice, Gerrard's interest in Dorias perks up.
"Gerrard Windward", he says, sticking out his hand. "I'm more interested in what you might know of Daltigoth, anyway."
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Post by Maessalathasa on Dec 19, 2019 23:45:55 GMT -8
Maessalathasa pauses as Galla yells after her, projecting a much darker expectation than a gift and a hug. Taken by surprise, she returns the hug and nods with tearful eyes, mouthing "Thank you." The ringlike item in her hand might be valuable, but the show of affection meant so much more. A part, the younger part, of her wants to stay - she could find a home here. She'd be accepted here. Pushing those thoughts aside, she finally departs, and takes takes one last look behind before increasing her pace. Without putting much more thought into it, she slides the ring on her finger, a throws the occational glance at the gift with affection. Finally, the cold starts affecting her and she tightens the cloak around her, before breathing it in and accepting it. Fighting against cold was useless - surrender was the only way. A useful lesson in humility she had been taught a long time ago.
And now, she was on her own again. There was purpose in her steps. Her eyes gazes around her, taking in the daily life that people were so accustomed to, yet the details of frowns, smiles, smells of animals and residents alike, the laughter and the simple joy of being alive. She took it all in. There would always be something to do. Teaching children manners, doing laundry, baking or mending bones, who knew what the future had in store?
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Rax
Dicemaster
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Post by Rax on Dec 20, 2019 6:09:30 GMT -8
"Alas no," Dorias replies to Bill. "I was knighted by my master on the field of battle in Solamnia. After the war I wasn't comfortable staying in one spot, so I took to errantry until my family had need of me. That particular adventure ended poorly - I have been held as a gladiator against my will in Daltigoth for the past two years. So in answer to your question, Master Gerard, I can give you a detailed account of the inside of the great arena, but not much else. I didn't stay to scout the place once I had won my freedom."
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Post by Daos on Dec 20, 2019 15:00:44 GMT -8
Grognak, Ravarie, Dorias and Gerrard (Blue Bird Inn, Common Room) As they are speaking, the innkeeper slips into the back for a few moments, before returning. A short time later, another woman emerges from the back. She's wearing an apron, and has her hair pulled back and covered by a bandanna. She looks to be around 40 years old, but the slight tips on her ears suggests elven blood, so she may be older than that.
"Bill!" she says with annoyance, putting her hands on her hips after approaching his table. "I told ya before not to interrupt me at work. I'm busy."
Bill quickly gets to his feet and holds his hands up defensively. "I know, Layla, I know, but this is a special occasion. Look who's here," he says, gesturing to Gerrard.
She gives him a slight glance, then says, "I ain't interested in meeting your drinking bud--" She quickly does a double-take, as recognition dawns on her. "Gerrard? Is that you?" She grabs him in a fierce hug. After pulling away, she looks him over. "Oh, my, look at you! The white robes...so you did it? You passed your 'trial' or whatever it was? Oh, I've been so worried since you left." She grabs his chin with her hand and turns his head so she can better inspect his scar. "What happened here? Have you been to a temple yet? You know they have magical healing these days, can take care of anything, or so they say."
While Nonna is distracted watching this reunion, the young lad slips up beside Dorias and says softly, "Hey, mister...you done with your drink yet?" He looks like he's chomping at the bit to get going.
Rathis (Temple of Shinare, Administrator's Office) Bulin chuckles sympathetically. "Sorry, lad. You know I always save the most dangerous jobs for you when I can. But the war is long over, and we're in a time of peace now. And peace, as they say, is good for business. Well, for most of us, anyhow." He shakes his head. "Look, tell you what. Why don't you take the day off, get some rest, and I'll see if I can find anything more your speed for you to do. No promises, of course. But I'll do what I can."
Maessalathasa (Noble District) Now on her own once again, it occurs to Maessalathasa that the first thing she should probably do is find a new place to stay. The nights were still a bit cold, as winter had not ended just yet. There were a number of inns all over the city. The ones in the noble district were the nicest by far, but also the most expensive. There were more reasonable ones in the merchant district to the south, and the cheapest ones could be found by the harbor.
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Post by Maessalathasa on Dec 20, 2019 22:19:48 GMT -8
Maessalathasa considers what she is to do next; having no path is both terrifying and relaxing at the same time. She clears her head of the nonsense, she does have a path, but might just not always see it. Had she not studied to help? When she cleared her head of thoughts, she found herself already halfway to the harbour. There should be lodging here, and probably plenty of work.
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Post by Kvard51 on Dec 20, 2019 23:17:17 GMT -8
"Aunt Layhmmmph...", Gerrard starts to speak but is instead dragged into his Aunt's embrace. Hugging her back, he tries to answer her questions, but is cut off before he can start, finally forcing his way into the conversation with, "This one doesn't heal, Aunt Layla. I passed the test, but this is the price I pay for my magic. A face only a mothe... aunt can love, to 'teach me humility'. And it's good to see you too!"
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Post by Amarathis on Dec 21, 2019 11:12:53 GMT -8
"Aye," the Elf sighed in defeat, deflating even as he nodded assent and gratitude to the well-groomed Dwarf. "Thank You, Administrator," the edges of his lips quirked upwards, "I'll just take the day off in the name of Shinare, then. See if I can't find some way to Unwind after our fierce battle, much Gratitude, Bulin." A half step back from the dwarf, and a deep bow, and then he was off, first to a quick stop to the stables to make certain that Kava was still well, and then into the streets of the city. He may not have been here long, (certainly not as his kind reckoned time), but long enough to know where had the best drinks at the best value.
And for his Steel, the docks offered by far the best transaction. Not least of which for the entertainment and useful feelings such places offered for a Champion of Walking Liberty. Sailors on leave drinking too much needing to be talked down, the odd thief and other nefarious person attacking the sanctity of fair trade. He'd spent the odd day or evening in the district before in an attempt to prove himself a boon to Shinare and the community at large, (and raise his spirits in the doing, if he was being honest with himself).
In fact there was a particular bar with a lovely woman of Kagonesti descent who worked there. Listening to her accent was a pleasant addition to any time he spent there, and to be frank, she reminded him of happier times.
His destination decided, Amarathis made his way to the Blue Bird Inn, the Tattooed Qualinesti in his decorated hide armor making little haste in his journey and enjoying a leisurely pace through the streets, keeping a weather eye but thinking to himself of the ale and meal that he intended to have when he got there. This time of year was not warm, but it was amazing how food could warm a body and heart.
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Post by Daos on Dec 21, 2019 15:34:33 GMT -8
Grognak, Ravarie, Dorias and Gerrard (Blue Bird Inn, Common Room) Layla frowns, but nods. "Well, luckily there are still plenty of ladies out there who like a man with scars. You can still pass on the Windward name yet," she says, patting his cheek. "And give me some grandchildren to play with. So, are you in the city long? Do you need a place to stay?"
As they are talking, a newcomer enters through the front. He appears to be a Qualinesti, but has a Kagonesti tribal tattoo on his face. He has short, tousled auburn hair and sunkissed skin. He wears hides and has a sword on his hip and a bow on his back.
Rathis (Blue Bird Inn, Common Room) After making sure Kava was well, and she seemed to be, Rathis made his way south to the docks. Here, the strong smell of fish and salt water permeated everything. Sailors, longshoremen and fishermen walked the streets here, going about their usual business. The Blue Bird is right on the water-front. A large wooden bird, painted blue, sits atop the entrance, although its head has broken off and lies at its feet.
Stepping inside, Rathis finds a dank and poorly lit common room. Numerous people are here, most of them sailors from the looks of them. At the bar is a group of people, probably travelers of some kind, as three of them have cloaks with the hoods up, concealing their faces. Of the two who do not, one is a goblin of all things--one with a hook hand and a peg leg, at that; no eye-patch, though. The other is a dark-skinned half-elven man.
At one table is an old human, a much younger human in white robes, and a middle-aged looking half-elven woman fussing over the younger human.
The innkeeper, the exotic looking woman with Kagonesti blood, stands behind the bar, as usual, distracted by the scene of the woman fussing over the young man.
Maessalathasa (The Docks) Maessalathasa makes her way south, to the docks. Here, the strong smell of fish and salt water permeated everything. Sailors, longshoremen and fishermen walked the streets here, going about their usual business.
As she is walking and looking around, she hears a commotion behind her. A kender woman is running right toward her at top speed, her overstuffed pouches bouncing with each step. A rather conspicuous looking fishtail pokes out of one of the pouches. She runs right past Maessalathasa, giving a quick wave and a breathless "Hullo!" before ducking into a nearby alley. A couple of breaths later, a large man wearing a blood-stained apron and carrying a cleaver runs from the same direction. He pauses by Maessalathasa and looks around wildly, before focusing his gaze on the monk. "You, girl. Did you see a thieving kender run this way?"
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Post by Kvard51 on Dec 21, 2019 20:44:05 GMT -8
Gerrard laughs, "I'm here until I find some work. As to grandchildren, don't start expecting any just yet. And thanks for the offer. I'll be happy to stay in my old bunk, but you have to let me pay my way. I'm a grown wizard now, and it won't do my reputation any good if I'm mooching off family."
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Post by HorizonsDream on Dec 21, 2019 23:59:13 GMT -8
Ravarie was keeping herself entertained by watching the family reunion, but the newcomer catches her attention. "That tattoo," she says as she stands from the stool she was sitting on. Normally, she isn't the type to approach people, but seeing a tattoo that traditionally belongs to her people, she can't seem to stop herself from approaching the Qualinesti, Rathis. "Why does a Qualinesti have a Kagonesti tribal tattoo?" she asks bluntly. While she would like to inspect the man's tattoo a little more closely so that she may learn its meaning, she decides to keep a respectful distance. Even the Qualinesti look upon her people as backwards, at best.
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