Grey Kingdom: The Game

[Larrin]

The priest offers you a very politely mild blessing in return as you leave.

You make your way out of town, past a turn in the road, past a big rock, and into the small glade of trees that has formed around a small creek that feeds into the bigger river the town is built on. You're pretty sure you're close and you find a great increase in mushrooms and mist...two very important vale indicators. Finally you reach a large rock with a dented top which has collected a small pool of water. Its a small thing, but its a subtle indication you're probably at the hub of local faerie activity.

[nubz]

Möttull steps from the ferry to the dock with the ease of practice, half a step ahead of the ferryman's young aide. Taking in the scene at the docks, he scans once for trouble and again for excitement; seeing neither, he reaches for the other rope to lash the sturdy riverboat to its mooring. "Ach, man, we arrive at last. Safe and sound, as was a Man's word." Reaching back, he offers the handsomely-garbed merchant a hand to steady himself, holding it a little longer than necessary to remind him of the debt owed. With his left, the elf of indeterminate age reaches into his belt and pulls a small purse - subtly jingling as if the coins held within wanted to spend themselves on wine and women. "Would that you lend a hand in unpacking my goods," he begins in a voice undeniably soft as silk in contrast to the gruff baritone of the warrior, "A bit more 'gratitude' might be in order." Wordlessly, Möttull takes his money and makes his way through the crowd.

Not that he had a problem with the man, just the arrangement. Möttull felt that guardwork was below him, for clearly Sagas were never written about riding on the velvet coattails of the rich to protect them from the . . . Poor? Greedy? He couldn't say, for there were days when he himself resembled the brigands more than the merchants.

Standing a good head taller than all but the occasional Dragonborn in the crowd, it didn't take long for him to find a Tavern. Möttull seated himself near the hearth, as seemed normal, though no fire warmed the room at this hour. He kept his back to the wall, unlike normal, since there was a sort of curious tension in the way people looked at him. Maybe not just him, perhaps... Letting the thought trail off, he plucked the small coinpurse from his pocket, loosening the string for a more detailed inspection. At first it had seemed lighter than agreed upon, but apparently it was mostly larger coins. Seven gold, a half dozen silvers, and a few coppers. With what he had, that made - well, more than a dozen gold, but he'd have to get the rest out and count it all at once, and that sort of thing gets the wrong sort of attention.

Even a man his size, who dealt with most problems by merely looking them in the eye - not from some sort of intimidating glare; as if, rather, the dangerous criminals were smart enough to recognize a challenge when they saw one.

On the note of attention, Möttull gets the barmaid's to order himself some mead and a leg of mutton.

[Larrin]

OOC: Just a note, as this is a solo thing, in battles when you are alone, your mark and such will give enemies a -2 to hit YOU, and if they attack YOU you get your immediate attack. This is because when you have no others to defend you can focus more on defending yourself. you may have battles where you need to protect others, then your mark will function normally (if you chose....)

Mottul: The barmaid takes your order and fills it quickly. She's as grim faced as the rest of the crowd, and says nothing to you. You find it odd that a merchant town would seem so suspicious of outsiders, or at least so unfriendly to people with money. As you eat you're pretty sure its nothing personal against you, and you get the same sense of the people in the room as you would if the town was under siege. These people feel threatened by something, trapped and helpless. And its not making their attitude towards anyone more pleasent...

[nubz]

1 Die Roll Streetwise (+6)

((Streetwise: 1hr, dc varies?))

Möttull spends some time trying to get a feel for what is going on here. Primarily, eavesdropping works best in this sort of circumstance, but if there are nearby tables where it doesn't seem they are trying to keep their words a secret (ie talking normally rather than leaning in close and whispering behind their mugs) he will ask a simple question or two - harmless, curious, and leave them to their own afterwards. Finally, a quick conversation with the barmaid and perhaps approaching whoever seems to run this establishment to arrange a room and otherwise get a bit of information.

[Larrin]

Mottull: (25 streewise, very good success) You pick up that bad things have been happening around town, animals showing up dead, arranged in ritualistic manners, often relating to a negative effect that shows up at the same time. Most recently a well was poisoned and the priests are powerless to cleanse it (which as priest of a St. Misipi, patron of rivers and water is kind of scary to the people). You here rumors of rumors that people have died, but nothing more that "my brother told me he knows a guys whose neighbor was drug from his home and never seen from again". You hear the word 'cultists' thrown around as who is to blame and much speculation on what sort of cultists, but no stories match up enough to make you think anyone knows anything.

[nubz]

Having been present once before in a small town where things started going wrong, Möttull feels the smartest thing to do would be to announce himself to the local Guard (or equivalent policing force). No big fanfare or anything like that, just sort of find out where their barracks or office is located and ask some standard questions as an outsider (is there a curfew, is gambling legal, etc)

[Larrin]

Motull: The city watch is present, if a bit understaffed. You find their barracks with simple directions and after perplexing a guard with your questions ("Hey, just don't cause trouble") you're directed to a clerk who is more than happy to relate to you all the civil codes you need, and even gives you an application for "Visitor of Good standing liscense" which you can fill out and submit to a judge. There isn't a curfew yet, but people are pretty darn suspicious of anyone after dark these days, the guards aren't likely to be very understanding either. Gambling is seen as you doing what you want with your money, and the slightly pious clerk tells you he feels losing all your money is probably punishment enough. Otherwise its a simple town with simple rules. 'Just Don't Cause Trouble' is apparently their motto. People who cause trouble are dealt with quickly and with a very firm hand.....except these cultists, since no one can find them.

[nubz]

Seeing no reason not to, Möttull fills out the application and puts two coppers down as a paperweight.

From there, the best course of action seems to be a walk through the town to familiarize himself with the different neighbourhoods, followed by an afternoon nap in his room. If things are going to get interesting tonight, he wants to be up to it.

[Larrin]

Mottul: The town is quite simple. There is the the big river, all along which is a number of docks. The docks can be broken down into two, heavy comercial and light commercial. You arrived in the light commercial, where transportation drops off people, and merchants with only a few horses worth of goods unload. This part of town blends into the town square (with the poisoned well) and the main market area, and the average citizen housing/respectable business sector surrounds that. there are only a few very rich people and their mansions are beyond that, as is the Temple to St. Misisipi. The Heavy commercial is for the bigger barges and such, and it becomes warehouses and then your usual support for caravans and such (stables, cheap inns, cheap housing). It isn't really the poor part of town, but it its the hard working part. Less paint and refinement, more functionality and sturdiness. There is a wall between the light commercial and heavy commercial areas, nothing forboding or imprisoning, just a simple stone wall with plenty of gates to let people back and forth, though you notice watchmen stations at every gate (though most are unattended). The rumours of cult activities have pointed to occurrences on both sides of the wall.

back to inn...zzz

[nubz]

Möttull wakes to the sounds and smells of the dinner crowd; pulling on his boots, he takes a few seconds before deciding that its best to take his few possesions along and stuff them under the table during dinner.

Sizing up the crowd in a manner that hopefully appears to be nothing more than looking for an empty chair, he gets the server's attention. Ordering whatever is on the menu, Möttull tries to keep his head down and quietly eat his meal.