Death's End IC II

[Togo]

Myr goes still. After a moment, he nods. I thought... no. I felt, as if I was being guided. It's one of those things you can never really pin down, y'know? Just an instinct, to come, to this place. Don't get me wrong, the Festival was pretty important... Hm.

He looks thoughtful for a moment.

It's been driving me nuts, your know, this idea that I can't quite see the whole picture? It never occured to me that I might only have an edge, and that there might be some larger agency at work.

He laughs.

Or maybe it's late, I'm in a strange place, and the floating lights remind me of starlit hillsides and dark stirrings in the night. I'm Myrmidon, and it was good to meet you. If I do see both baleful and solid, I can send the coven word.

He gives the elf a chance to give his name or speak further, but otherwise heads out in the direction of Eagle's Crossing.

[gallagher]

Ben looks up to the speaker and says "Why yes, we have two contests in mind, but this is my first festival larger than a small town and I am not sure what other contests are typical. At the very least, we know we want to know more about the archery and hide and seek contests."

He then looks back to the halfling that had just received advice from the speaker, turns back and says: And if you have any tips for us on these games, I am sure we would also appreciate it. I know that I personally would love to win at hide and seek!"

[Sen isSaqqara]

Lirian looks over the library with a smile.
"Just one last inquiry, sir. Is there a nearby source of paper, ink, and other such scribing tools? If possible, I'd rather not venture back out into that storm of metahumanity."

[esorscher]

Arran halfway listens to the response form the contest overseer, trusting Ben to get the pertinent details. His attention is on Commander Titus Vasher, observing the commander's movements and attempting to listen to whatever he is saying.

Spoiler

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Listen: (1d20+1)[2]

[PersonMan]

"Hmm. Well, I think 'I promise to not go into dark alleys' is a start," Elara says, her tone making it clear that her comment isn't meant to be entirely serious. The grin that follows it strengthens this idea, the look in her peculiar lined eyes that of someone hoping their humor is understood. Taking the woman's purse of odd coinage with a smile, the mage adds it to her belt, tying it between two of the burned-out wands she was carrying, briefly looking down to do so as the woman looks around for any missed coins. As she hears the sounds of boots, Elara turns to where the men had gone, eyes widening as she realizes that one of them is injured. Nodding to the older man, she approaches the injured merchant, cursing that she'd put down her messenger bag in the room. The supplies she had in there would have made treating the man's wounds significantly easier...

"Well, I don't think anyone expected him to be more than a simple mugger," Elara says as Kale speaks, approaching to inspect the man's wound. "I mean, to turn on three armed men isn't something any normal person would do," she continues, inspecting the wound. First she does her best to clear the injury - keeping fabric out of it as much as possible. Getting other things mixed up into an open wound is something she knows is asking for infection. This is definitely not normal. It's probably good that I got those coins. If someone like that is trying to get them, then they're not just some useless junk. The wanderer thinks, breathing deeply to clear her thoughts so she can focus on the bloody evidence in front of her.

Damnit. Why did this happen to her?

Spoiler

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Heal: (1d20)[12]

[3SecondCultist]

Arran, Ben, Calia: "The stealth contest? Well, you certainly look the part. I believe the boundaries of that - " The woman is cut off at a particularly loud burst of silver-red flame behind her as Garth begins the next round. Those directly beneath the stage flinch at the proximity to the heat, as the wizard conjures up a five-headed giant made of solid light to devour the fires. Turning back to you with a hint of a smile, the festival planner struggles to find her words before carrying on. "Sorry about that. I was talking about the stealth contest, was I not? You need to head all the way up to Tin Alley, in the north-west corner of Forger's Row. Ask for a halfling named Kalyk the Fair; he is the one that Whitestrake appointed to run the competition."

As you are closer to the action, you can get a slightly better view of the Commander's retinue as they head through the great double doors of the Senate Hall. They are much too far away for you to hear anything that is being said. That being said, Vasher's poise is evident in the way he moves, from his hand gestures to how he walks. This is a man in complete control of his surroundings, despite being surrounded by the Master of Ceremonies and some of the most powerful men and women in the Republic. They struggle to keep his pace, not the other way around. After a minute, they disappear behind the gilded surfaces. The guards close the doors behind them, and one of the regiments of the elite guards set themselves up outside.

"Excuse me, you mentioned advice? You will want to be polite above all things. Those of us at the festival committee can neither confirm or deny any criminal activity in Forger's Row. But no matter the outcome of your contest, it would be prudent to try and stay on Kalyk's good side. He might be a bit on the smaller side, but I am told that he can hit as hard as the rest of them when he's angry. I should let him explain the rules of the contest himself, but I can tell you to stay off of the main roads. It will make it that much easier for the seekers to find you. Now, I believe there are others who are waiting. Best of luck!"


Lirian: The librarian manages to quell a bit of a smirk at your 'request'. It is not a good look for him. "Of course we have scribing tools. There should be quills and ink reservoirs at the desks, and if you need anything else, please do not hesitate to ask. For those with... talent, we also have Scribing Quills in order to craft magical scrolls. Is there any other way I can be of service, ma'am?" His patience with your questions clearly worn thin, he takes a noticeable breath. The soft sound of soles on stone sounds behind you, and you see the older female librarian from the third floor descend to the first floor. The scrolls previously beneath her arm are gone, likely packed away up in the stacks somewhere. She moves towards you, a curious expression on her face. "Hello there. Unless I am mistaken, you are one of the catfolk from the Valerian tundra. It isn't often we see anyone like you here in the capital. What brings you to Onyx?"


Elara: "Isn't it just?" It is all the woman can do not to laugh despite herself. She introduces herself as Ilsa, and moves her baby boy so that you get a better look at his face. Apparently, his name is Martin. It is a moment without pain, a brief glimpse of a better world. But Kale groans once more, and you are brought back to the present. Your efforts to clean the wound prove to be mostly successful, although you do accidentally get a little bit of material in the cut. He gasps aloud, but doesn't seem angry. If anything, the young man looks at you with nothing but compassion. Maybe that cuts deeper. Your new coins make little jangling noises on your belt, a constant reminder of their presence. Whatever prompted the thief to try to take them from Ilsa, it is entirely possible that he was willing to kill for them. Indeed, the third man has yet to return. Kale looks around at the shadows nervously, before quietly suggesting that perhaps you should all get out of the alley and back onto Central Avenue. At least there would be more witnesses there if anything happened. But his concerns are largely alleviated when the older man returns with a bottle of medicine and a few bolts of cloth. "Here you go, just lay back. I'll bind it up for you, try to stop the bleeding... there you are." Looking over at the rest of you briefly, the merchant seems to register the presence of the baby for the first time. "Come on, we should get out of here in case that lunatic comes back." Blade still ready at his belt, he begins to move with Kale back into the comparative light of the main street. His eyes are wary, waiting for another attack.


Myr: The elf looks you directly in the eyes. You can see his fear now, present on the surface where before he had carefully concealed it. He runs his long fingers over his own leather armor, drumming to a beat that only he knows, as he thinks about what to say next. "So you understand. Thank you. I am glad to have had someone to talk to, even though you are but a stranger to me. The gods have a plan for us, you know. We may try to avoid it, but there is no fighting fate. My name is Varhel, and it was indeed nice to meet you. May your path be ever blessed, Myrmidon." Turning away as he draws his weapon, the solitary sentry begins to back into the trees. His eyes flicker all around, as if looking for malevolent shadows. He offers you no nod of farewell - you know that among two individuals such as yourselves, there is no need for such a gesture.

Following the directions that Varhel gave you, you make your way further west. The roads begin to widen out, as you leave Arborgate and its endless foliage behind. Within minutes, you catch sight of travelers and citizens making their way towards the main events in Old Town. But if the elven sentry was telling the truth, then Eagle's Crossing is not far. A cart has broken down on the street ahead of you, but bypassing it you catch sight of the main area. A pair of trees grow in the green, but all around are the edifices of civilization. West Harth is hardly the cleanest of places, and despite the greenery there is a distinct smell of rot that permeates the air. A pair of halflings shoot you a strange look as you enter the square, taking in your clothes and your weapon before moving on. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see signs for various inns and places of note. There seems to be a barracks nearby, and more than a few taverns. On the list, you make out a few scrawls that denote the direction of both the Janos Crown and the Painted House, a few blocks due west of you down Harth Central Avenue. There are fewer people down that way, but it is likely your best chance of finding the accommodations you have been looking for.

[Sen isSaqqara]

Lirian smiles back. "I've been working on an interesting new path of research, and the Great Library's resources are legendary, so I figured I'd stop in here. Well, and I'm following my friends, I suppose, but that's secondary at the moment. But where are my manners? Lirian Isepat, at your service."

[gallagher]

Well thats that, thank you m'lady. Ben turns to his compatriots. Calia, do you know what I might find in the Tin Alley? I would be able to pick up whatever either of you might want while I sign up for this Hide and Seek contest. After that, I would like to visit a temple and see if I can find religious texts that would prove useful to our mission. Did either of you see one while we were coming this way?

[Ajadea]

"Forger's Row?" Calia says, a note of alarm slipping in to her cheer. Following the recommendation of the woman, she quickly heads off into a narrow winding side road, away from the main square. "Ben, are you quite certain you wish to participate in this? Forger's Row is... there is a large orc and goblinoid presence." It feels like she's placing a damper on the celebrations before they've even begun, with her hesitation. She kicks herself mentally and starts over. "Look, I'll go with you, alright? The Row's not really the sort of place one goes for holiday shopping, and I wouldn't throw a lone traveler fresh off the road into it. It's just... it's very Onyx. Diverse, I suppose. City. Not exactly as... shiny, as Old Town, if you understand me. They do a lot of metalwork up there, if that's the sort of thing that interests you. But if you're looking for a text on anything, religion or magic or history or whatever, I'd look at the Great Library before someone's temple. They've got everything. Honestly though. First Lirian, now you? The Library isn't going anywhere."

[gallagher]

Ben thanks on Calia's comments, trying to make sure that he picks his words rather carefully. I appreciate the warning, and I welcome the company. I will try to be on my best behavior, I understand that savage races living in the city are quite different in most aspects than their wilder, more tribal relatives. Though I may have to ask you to do my talking for me in case I forget myself...

And I am looking for more than just a book. Our newest... friend... gave us some new information that certainly involves the religious. I want a little advice before searching blindly for a book. I've never been inside a library, I assume its just stacks and stacks of paper, with old men with bony fingers and dusty glasses spending their lives reading every last word in there. Ben adds an emphasis on "friend" so that anybody who might listen in doesnt get too much information, while his party knows exactly who he is talking about.

Yeah, teh library wont go anywhere, nor will any temple, but we have a mission to keep to while we are here. Anyway, I would like you there with me when we talk to this Kalyk fellow. You often have a better way with words than I do, and I would like to stay on his best side. Arran, you are of course welcome too, unless you have another place you would rather be.

[Togo]

Myr pauses at the crossroads. Under the hazy notion that the shorter races might operate in the same district, where the facilities and architecture are more to their scale, he takes heart that passing halfings might indicate a gnomish hostelry nearby. With a spring in his step he heads onward, images of a hot meal and comfortable quarters warring in his head with worries about the likely size of the room, and length of the bed.

[Ajadea]

"No race is savage by nature," Calia corrects automatically. "Violence is the last resort of dispossessed people of all races." It sounds like a quote, learned by heart and believed in full. "If you're ready then? The Row's up this way." She leads the way on through the crowds.

[gallagher]

Ben keeps a firm grasp on his haversack, and allows his cloak to drape over it to keep a barrier between his possessions and thieves. Right behind you! Ben says to Calia, and keeps his eyes on the lookout for people staring at them, and for thieves with quick fingers.

Spoiler

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Spot: (1d20+4)[14] with an additional point if Calia's perception aura is up

[esorscher]

Arran pauses. "Good luck with the Stealth contest," he says. "Let's meet Lirian at the Library when we're done." He touches his earring to indicate to them that they should keep in touch with him via that route, then turns back to the woman who gave Ben directions. "What about the archery contest? How do I go about entering that?"

[PersonMan]

Elara is happy to take a moment to introduce herself to Ilsa and her child, smiling at the infant boy that seemed entirely peaceful even after the danger that had just passed by. Had he even been aware of what threat this odd man had posed? Would he remember, even vaguely, what had happened on this night? Or would it be a frightening story his mother told, of a time when they were threatened back when he was small enough to carry? For a brief moment, a disturbing thought comes to the mage, that if he had been a few years older, enough of a boy to try and come to his mother's defense, he may have been disptached by the man for his efforts. After all, he'd been willing to turn on three men...but he'd run from them, as well. Perhaps he feared her magic more than their blades. Turning her thoughts back to the present situation, she turns from the baby Martin back to his mother, speaking again in the peace that came after her efforts to treat Kale.

"I'm Elara, Elara Enhall," she says, before turning back to the injured man against the alley wall. Each sound of pain the man gave made her wince slightly, but she'd treated enough wounds to know to keep her hands steady even if she made a mistake. Shaking her fingers around in a wound only made things worse, after all. As the man suggests moving, Elara looks down the alley for a moment before shrugging, the gesture mirrored by the silent images behind her. "If he comes back, I can keep him from coming too close," she says, absentmindedly moving her fingers as she speaks, keeping the fingers ready to perform the complex movements they would need to if that man returned. Once the other man comes back, Elara relaxes somewhat, watching the alley as Kale's wounds were treated properly. Still keeping one eye on the darkness as they go back onto the main street, the mage's stomach twists as she considers what may have happened to the other man.

"Do you think that will work?" Elara asks after they reach the street, indicating the bindings on Kale's wounded arm. "Or should we go find a healer to fix him up?"

[3SecondCultist]

Arran: Although it takes a few moments after Ben and Calia have left, you eventually get the same woman’s attention. She seems surprised to see you still standing at the front of the crowd, but once you pose your question there is a brief glint of comprehension. "Ah, my apologies! It must have slipped my mind. You will be able to find the archery contests not far from here, just outside of the Old Town guard barracks. You will want to head southeast a few blocks, and look for a pair of big stone towers." Another patron tries to accost her, but she dodges his questions to finish bringing you up to speed. "To enter the contest, all you need to do is show up and pay the fee. Of course, you will also need your own equipment but it looks as though you have that covered."


Ben, Calia: Leaving the noisome mass behind, both of you turn to the north. The immense facade of the Great Library looms overhead, as does the Senate Hall beside it. But soon enough you have passed both structures by, and the world of the streets engulfs you anew. For the most part, you are fighting the tide of people headed back towards Heroes' Plaza, but here and there you catch sight of the odd traveler following similar paths to the northern end of the city. Given what they wear and how they move, it is quite likely that they might end up being your competition.

After what must be a few miles, you pass a dilapidated wall. What was undoubtedly an edifice of its time has been weathered down to a fraction of its greatness. The few feet of cobblestone around you are the only shadow that it knows now. The yawning gate into the avenues beyond stands wide open, with but a skeleton crew left to guard it. Affixed to the stone are various flyers and signs, marking the edge of the district. A closer look reveals more than a few blurry faces, rubbed in charcoal and washed by rain. Whoever posted these bounties has let them deteriorate to the point of being more or less illegible. But their point is made nonetheless. The guards nearby make sure that you know what you're doing before entering the district, moving aside once they are assured of your own abilities.

You are met on the other side by noise and heat. There is little to be said for space here, as most of the squat buildings are cramped together into a warren of narrow streets and alleyways. There is still a main road leading directly to the north, but on either side of this causeway the roads diverge what looks essentially like a warren. Everything is packed into a rush of movement and drive, which takes the form of goblinoids roaming the streets. They do not seem to be any more barbarous or crude than any of the other crowds you have seen throughout Onyx; indeed, the only real difference is that for the most part, the denizens of Forger’s Row live in poverty.

Signs for various forge-blocks are scattered all over the place, and out of the corner of your eye, both of you notice the scrawl that denotes the way to Tin Alley.


Elara: The older merchant looks down at his blade once, before staring back up at you. The fear is evident in his gaze, even though he does a pretty good job of hiding it from both Ilsa and Kale. "If he comes back, I’ll gut him myself. Now come on, we need to go." Helping you move his friend out into the more spacious Central Avenue, he looks around for any more help. For the most part, even the primary artery of West Harth is quiet. A few passers by ignore you, evidently under the impression that things are under control. However, Kale’s blood continues to seep through the bindings even as you help him move. If there was any doubt that you may need more professional help in nursing the young man back to health, it has long since been dispelled. Ilsa sticks close to you, Martin still sleeping alongside her.

In terms of ‘help’, it seems as though your pickings are thin. There is a pair of guardsmen not too far away, but they are either ignorant or apathetic to your situation. One of them laughs at something the other said, presumably a joke of some kind. As he does so, his complexion turns blotchy and you can see a vein bulging from his neck. Judging by the wine flask clutched in his flabby hands, it would not be a stretch to imagine that they would not all that useful to you. However, there is another figure headed in your direction. His armor is finer than those of the guards, and his dark blue cloak and comparatively fresh white shirt mark him out as a wealthy mercenary or adventurer of some kind. His long blond hair is mostly bound in a single tight braid wound with bronze wire, although there are a few strands that have fallen loose. You can see a lyre at his side, as well as a small menagerie of weapons that includes some kind of spear or polearm.


Lirian: The elder librarian moves to take your paw, bowing her head slightly as she does so. Her colleague sniffs in disdain before heading off silently, but only once he is sure that you are being properly taken care of. The newcomer’s features break out into a quiet grin once he is out of eyeshot. "Don’t mind Heiro. I understand security, but some of the staff here take their jobs far too seriously for my tastes. My name is Sylvia Inkweaver, but you can just call me Syl. I’m one of the senior caretakers here at the Great Library." It takes a moment for you to realize that while she speaks, the older woman has switched into a more familiar dialect. Up close, you can see that she carries about a small brown bag, which you suspect is some kind of magical container. At the very least, it is possible that she put the scrolls you saw in there. She leads you over to the stacks directly on your right, marked out by a concentric triangular symbol.

"This is the signature for the arcanum section. Most of the visitors we have tend to be after tomes of ancient magic, unless they are historians. But looking at you, I am going to go ahead and guess that this is where your interest lies?"


Myr: As you continue into West Harth, you catch sight of more and more residences. Like the rest of Onyx, this seems to be largely a human district, and your fears about the size of some of the city’s accommodations look to be unfounded. You pass a few feeble attempts at parks – even the barest glimpse of Arborgate was much more impressive – and a few intersections, but your destination is a bit further than you may have anticipated. The next road sign says that the Painted House is around the corner, with the Janos Crown a little bit further than that. But your attention is grabbed by something else.

An interesting scene seems to be unfolding on the street in front of you. Several of the festival carts lie abandoned by the side of the road, but a group of people has just staggered out from one of the nearby alleys. An older man leads a younger one, who looks to have been the victim of a stabbing. Alongside them is a pair of women. The first carries a bundle that looks like a baby under her arm, and the second looks like she is standing guard. Unlike any of the others, the last figure is dressed like an adventurer: thick boots and the various wands around her belt mark her out as someone familiar with the road. Her dark green cloak seems to complement her brown hair, which is tied into a ponytail behind her.

[esorscher]

"Great, thanks. I won't take up any more of your time." Arran heads off southeast, following the woman's directions. When he reaches the archery contests, he surveys the scene, looking for someone he might sign up with.

[gallagher]

Ben whispers to Calia, Forgive me, but I will still be keeping my guard up. If not for these citizen's kind, but because we are bound to be around thieves and brigands who will notice that we are outsiders. Ben keeps his arms under his cloak, one kept over his bag, the other holding onto his shortsword. His eyes dart around the crowd looking for those that take note of their presence, or those that might try to follow. Ben also tries to take note of those that might be his competitors in the Hide and Seak contest. Also, I was wondering if you had entertained any plans of entering the contests as well?

Spoiler

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spot roll: (1d20+4)[8]

[Sen isSaqqara]

"Well," Lirian replies, "I'm mainly interested in arcane theory at the moment, but I was also considering looking into the history of that theory to see where it diverged from my theories. I suppose I should explain in a bit more detail.
I've recently found inspiration to research some interesting new applications of simple magic, ones that could have world-changing results. In hindsight, it seems almost unbelievable that nobody's tried this before. I want to see how we as a body of researchers skipped over this realm of study. I'm not going to say exactly what it is, of course, (trade secrets and all,) but I may be able to release my research rather soon, depending on how it goes here.
Anyways, you could say that I want to look into not only arcane theory, but also ancient magics and history. For the moment, though, I'll stick to the former."
Lirian looks down to the bag Syl holds, nodding slightly to indicate her interest. "Mind if I inquire into your line of research?"

Honestly interested, or simply looking to regain the advantage you inadvertently lost by outlining so much of your plans? I am inclined to believe the former, as I somewhat doubt you have the tact to pick up on the latter.
Don't be silly, I just think she's interesting. Though, I'll admit, I want to keep this conversation going long enough to establish a simple friendship. She could be a useful source of information, not to mention a valuable ally here. And besides, she's fun!

[Ajadea]

Calia frowns briefly, sharpening her awareness as the splendor of Old Town fades into the dust of Forger's Row. She exchanges some festival pleasantries in Common, Siaran-accented Orcish, and a rather decidedly northern dialect of Goblin. Her grasp of both languages is perhaps best considered rusty, but she is pleased to realize that she is still comprehensible, and can understand them in turn. "I don't know. I'm not very good at, ah, noticing things," she admits, adjusting her mask.

Spoiler

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Activating Senses Aura: +2 to Listen, Spot, initiative

[Togo]

Elves. He mutters ruefully. I suppose if I lived hundreds of years I'd regard half an hour of streets as 'just a little way'. But then it's not about the destination, is it Myr? Noooo, it's all about making the most of the jour- What the?

His eyes narrow as he makes out the wounded man and her companions. His eyes springing immediately to the shadowy corners, the positions of good cover, and the sheltered rooftops. Once satisfied that noone lurks in wait, he looks back towards the allyway. He starts to take a step forward, as the details rush in.

Only one wound, noone else seems hurt or as if they've been in battle. Ambush then, or a quick strike and then away. They're coming out of the allyway, seeking safety in the open. So, an illegal attack, thief or unexpected assailent who might be put off by witnesses. They can't all have been there to start, because that would have put off the attacker. So. He was attacked, accompanied by one or two of the lady with the baby and the older man.

His foot starts to come down, the world slowing to glacial speed.

Lady with a baby, standing very close. Not trying to shield the baby from the man recently involved in violence. So they're very close, probably relative, romantic relationship or long term friend.

The other woman is more cautious, keeps her hands ready, although I don't see a weapon. She's keeping between them and the allyway, but as they emerge she should, yes, she moves over to the right so she can watch both the allyway and the main road. Combat experienced then, and protective of them. Several of those mystical stick things, that means magic-capable and sucessful enough to invest in her own gear. Military units can't generally afford that so most likely freelance, maybe a bandit, fortune hunter, adventurer or bodyguard. She's also...

He blinks.

She's also kind of cute, actually.

Distracted, his boot comes down with the heel at an angle to one of the flagstones, and he stumbles slightly. Pulling himself upright, he calls out tentatively.

Um... Hey. Are you hurt?

His brow furrows.

Um hey? Um hey? He says to himself.Could I sound any more like an idiot?

[PersonMan]

Elara can't help but grimace as the man mentions gutting the assailant if they appeared again. Isn't that what had caused the younger man's injury in the first place? Trying to rush in and take immediate, violent action instead of just sticking back to protect those already hurt? Still, she doesn't begin an argument by speaking her mind, instead looking around for someone to help the injured Kale. As she spots the guards, her expression brightens for a moment, hope blossoming in her chest before withering away a moment later. Drunks in uniform, not the defenders of the peace she'd been hoping to see. Casting another glance around the street, her gaze resting on the carts for a moment to see if there was anyone among them, Elara's eyes come to rest on a more reliable looking figure.

The armament was a bit off-putting, but the mage had met more than enough dangers in her travels to know that many carried weapons for self-defense. Still, her gut churns ever so slightly at the sight of the man, armed and walking down the street. Elara is more than aware of the insanity in her feelings - guards were, as the two nearby were so brazenly showing, not all flawless, so their exemption from her dislike of weapon wielders was odd. Still, it takes a moment for the wanderer to push down the feeling of dislike that had already sprung up, the sight of Kale's blood seeping through the bandages spurring her on. There was a more important matter than her issue with weapons here.

"I'm fine, but one of us is hurt - a cut on his arm. Can you help him?" Elara asks. Now, most people wouldn't expect a man carrying bladed steel to be the one who could help a man whose problem was an injury rather than a lack of them, but in her time on the roads she'd seen many odd things. Plenty of people who looked like they were good for nothing but causing death and pain turned out to have just the right skills to help someone who needed healing.

[Togo]

Myr hadn't really been expecting the answer to be yes. They were in the middle of walled fortress city. The danger is supposed to be on the outside. As he hurried forward, he could hear his better judgement confirming that, no, that had never been how it really worked.

He arrives at the odd group. The young man eyes are beginning to glaze over. Now that he was no longer caught up in battle, the shock and bleeding were starting in ernest.

Giving the older man a reassuring nod, he turns to the patient.

Can you hold that up? Here, his arm is weak, he needs help.

With a quick motion he brushes his hand against Elara's to catch her attention, and then points to where he wants the man's arm held.

Once the arm is braced he peels back the sticky sleeve with practiced care, and lays his hand directly on the bleeding wound.

This may tickle a little

His eyes close. A look of serenity passes over his face, as if someone who had carried a great burden finally has a chance to set it down.

His eyes open, he removes his hand, to reveal where the wound had been, an angry red line, almost entirely healed.

The arm should be fine. I'm afraid that shirt may not make it though. Next time you're getting stabbed, and want to get your arm in the way, just pretend you're going to punch him in the nose stright after. Either with your right, so lifting your arm under the knife and deflecting with the bone of your forearm, or with the left, so you turn away from the knife, and your other will sweep it away. You'll still get cut a bit, but it won't be so serious.

He takes out a cloth from his pocket, and starts wiping the blood from his palm. A set of thin silvery scars, irregularly spaced on the edge of his forearm, catch the light.

Sorry to just swoop in like that, it's a bad habit. From where he does not say.I just figured it was better to act quickly.

So, the heroic are honourably wounded, but live to tell the tale. The bad guy... got away? I hope your badge of honour didn't cost you your purse?

[PersonMan]

Elara holds up Kale's arm as the passer-by-turned-helper requests, keeping her focus on the situation at hand as the man performs some odd...quasi-ritual? In her time, she's seen quite a few healings, but none of them really looked like this. Of course, there were plenty of places she hadn't been, but it was still odd to see Kale's wound have faded to a mere surface scratch once the stranger's hands were removed. Taking a moment to check and make sure that the young man had recuperated well, she gently releases his arm and turns to the newcomer, suppressing a shudder as he explained to Kale how to act next time he was being stabbed.

"Not exactly," Elara says, as he asks about how Kale had been wounded. "Miss Ilsa was being attacked and I came to help. These two, and a third man, followed, chasing off the assailant and I stayed to make sure she was alright," she explains, nodding to the people in question as she mentions them. For now the mage decides to keep her theory on the odd coins a secret. If Ilsa wanted to mention it, then she could, but Elara didn't feel the need to share everything with this man. Of course, without her concentrating on something that needed immediate attention to avoid further issues, the wanderer was noticing that this unexpected aid had come in a rather pleasing package. Still, she restrains herself - now wasn't really the time or place to stop and appreciate the man's looks.

"And I don't think that swooping in to help people who need it is a bad habit," Elara adds, smiling. Extending a hand, she decides to introduce herself. "I'm Elara Enhall, wanderer, painter of especially beautiful things, innocent bystander and occasional would-be hero," she says.

[3SecondCultist]

Arran: Nodding absentmindedly at you, the festival employee goes back to her other clients, leaving you to go on your way. At first, movement through the crowd around Heroes' Plaza is incredibly restricted. Windfarben whinnies softly as you lead her through the mass. Without your friends, it is a bit easier, but it still takes you a little while to get to the edges of the throng. Several of the street vendors approach you as you pass, but just as many seem wary of a man walking alongside a floating horse. But everything passes, and the loudest of the din soon seems to be background noise behind the closed shops and murmurs of the quieter Old Town streets.

Despite what you were told, your destination seems to almost creep up on you. At least, you don't see the towers until you turn a corner and come face to face with the barracks itself. For the most part, the architecture is consistent with what you would come to expect from something of its kind: thick stone walls and high windows with metal latticework are the order of the day. Everything about the Old Town barracks has been optimized for strategy, from the stonework to the structure to the field of torchlight around it. A pair of iron doors lead into the first floor of the structure, but they seem to have been closed. On the green outside, you are greeted with a full complement of the city guard and a pair of the robed festival coordinators. In addition, hovering around the square are other hopefuls: people of all pedigrees and sexual orientations. Busy stringing and reading their weapons, they look over at the humanoid targets embedded in a far wall of the fortress. In particular, there are more than a few elves present. One of the festival staff moves up to address the competitors.

"Everyone present here must sign in before taking place in the contest! I have a ledger here for all of those who haven't yet joined. The entry fee is 20 gold marks, paid up front by each competitor. My partner here will be collecting the fees. I will explain the rules once I have a full complement of competitors."


Ben, Calia: A train of goblin and hobgoblin children run through one of the streets in front of you, playing a game that looks to involve some kind of chase. One of the smaller ones eventually gets caught, and the others pause to dab his arm with a chalk marker. The whole group then turns and runs from him, and he begins to pursue. One of them stops as you pass, looking up at Calia with a stupid grin on her face. She waves silently and keeps running. But they are the exception to the rule. For the most part, the locals seem to ignore your presence, letting you pass with little more than a whisper of greeting. There are fewer banners here, and considerably less cheer than in the other districts. You receive a few less than friendly looks from those you talk to, but the general mood to things like the celebrations here are more akin to indifference. The goblinoids of Onyx are too busy working to care about something so frivolous.

"Are you two here looking for the stealth contest, by any chance?" The speaker emerges from behind a small cart, a gnome with a pair of scars on his face. He doesn't appear armed, but his smile seems to know better. A few more of the contestants step around him as they begin to head down a side street, at the end of which you can see a small platform set up. He moves in that direction, and indicates that you should do the same. "I'll be looking forward to taking your gold, friend."


Lirian: As she listens to your specifications, you can see that Sylvia's interest is certainly piqued. She nods slowly as if digesting every word before replying. "'Arcane theory', hm? It sounds to me like you're looking to read fundamentals. It's strange, I saw you and immediately took you for a guildswoman, and I was certain that the library at Fiorne had at least some of that literature. I can't pretend to know what it is you're looking for exactly, and I don't want to know. What I will tell you is that if you're looking for early magical theory, you will probably want the Elven Collection. Nobody knows exactly who penned the scrolls, but our material analysis puts them at nearly two thousand years old. They document probably the first magical findings on this continent, long before the arrival of the Justinians. Nobody in Fiorne would have seen anything like this. In my opinion, that would be the best place to start."

Sylvia pauses mid-sentence. "Of course, due to their age and rather... delicate constitution, the Great Library has placed them on the endangered treatise list, which means that they are housed on the third floor. You'll need a permit to go up there, and even then you are not allowed to take them outside of the Library." The custodian smiles at you, but you get the sense that there is a threat in there that she would be willing to back up all the way. Leading you over to the pyramid building in the center of the hall, Sylvia bids you wait a moment while she goes and fetches the appropriate paperwork. She reappears not a minute later, a sheaf of paper and scroll in hand. "Here you are. The terms of the contract dictate that you would forswear 50% of any gold earnings off of any published works as a result of using secondary literature on the third floor. It's a hassle, I know, but trust me when I tell you that it's worth it. Most of the material down here is wonderful, but a lot of it can be found in other temples and places of knowledge. In addition, when you sign this you become an honorary member of the Great Library itself. Your name will be added to the thousands of others that have passed through this hall over the centuries."

[Togo]

Myr stares at the hand for a moment, before taking it. Elara's ready acceptance seems to startle him. Once he has grasped the nettle, so to speak, he smiles back warmly

I'm Myrmidon. Ah.. Introductions are such an interesting chance to reinvent yourself, aren't they? I don't know what of my life to drag forward and present as me.

His brow furrows for a moment, then clears.

I'm certainly a wanderer, I've just come down from the Mountains. Where I've, ha, been in the habit of swooping in. People appreciate it on average, but it's a lot closer a thing than I expected. Painter, not so much. I'm only a painter in the sense of getting an even surface on a wall. I play music, though, and not everyone runs away.

He drops her hand.

I've tried being an innocent bystander. To be honest, I've rather lost the taste for it. But somehow I have no trouble..

He gives a deep bow.

...seeing you as a hero.

He straightens up.

With luck we've made enough fuss that the attacker won't be back. Unless they were after something in particular?

[3SecondCultist]

Elara, Myr: Ilsa steps in to answer the warrior's question. "They... were just after these strange coins I found up in Forger's Row. Someone came in and tried to pay with them. I don't know who that man was or what he wanted, but I'm just glad my baby boy is safe." She smiles in Elara's direction. Moving out into the street proper and towards one of the carts, she whispers something under her breath to the bundle in her arms: a sweet nothing. Beside you, Kale seems to be just about done examining his arm.

"That's... as good as new. No, better than. My whole body feels awake, as if after a long and fruitful slumber. You must be an agent of the Twelve Divinities!"

[Sen isSaqqara]

"Just published works, then? Not patents, or inventions, but essays and the like?" asks Lirian, as she reads over the agreement. While she doesn't mean to seem rude, she's not signing it until she understands it in full. Nonetheless, she is excited at the prospect of becoming a member of such a significant institution. She is a tad puzzled, though, at being let in on such short notice, and so easily. Then again, she isn't going to complain.

Spoiler

Show

Could I get the agreement in full? Or, at least, the full terms of it in DM paraphrasing?

[esorscher]

Arran grips his coin purse as he approaches the festival worker. "Excuse me, friend. Could you tell me the rules of this contest before I enter?"

[gallagher]

As one of the children wave at Calia, Ben remarks: Friend of yours?

Ben pays no attention to the boast of this stranger, but s they get closer to the front of the line to sign up for the hide and seek contest, Ben takes note of everyone lining up, and attempts to memorize faces in the event that he sees them in the contest. He also listens closely for any comments or conversations going on around him that might tip him off on what the other contestants are planning. When we start talking to Kalyk, Ben says to Calia, if I accidentally say the wrong thing, do you think you would be able to smooth things over? I am not one for... poetic speech... like you are.

Ben also says to Arran through the earring: Buddy, can you hear on your end more than just what I say? If you can hear what goes on around me, try to listen in on what this Kalyk person has to say. I'll talk to you about it more later.