Every one of you received a mysterious letter about a month ago, sent by a fellow named Alon, asking for your assistance.
"Greetings, mister/miss/mistress.
I, Sir Alon, approach you regarding very important affairs going on at the moment. These affairs concern the crown of the kingdom of Barbuda, although I am fairly certain that the crownholder is unaware of this. Nevertheless, I am led to believe that an organization, quite powerful one, might I add, wishes ill to the kingdom of Barbuda.
While I have nothing but my word for assurance, and cannot go into details in this letter in fear of it getting caught in the wrong hands, I ask you to meet me in Bilgewater. Noon of the fifteenth day of the blue moon, in the tavern of the Shining Dock. I quarantee to you that there will be rewards if you will take action.
Sin cera, Alon."
Each one of you decided to take the bait, either in hopes of glory or treasure. Maybe both, or just for the thrill of adventure. What bad could come from meeting this fellow anyway?
So, you travelled to Bilgewater. Most probably by a ship, unless you have magical travel at your disposal. Bilgewater. Probably one of the most important cities on the material plane. While Sigil's motto is that "If it can't be had in Sigil, it can't be had anywhere.", the motto of Bilgewater is probably: "If it can't be had in Bilgewater, you probably lacked the means to possess it."
Bilgewater resides in the middle of the large channel that is the only route by sea between Barbudas and Indius. In the middle of the most prosperous trade route on earth. Its' location lends itself very nicely to pirates, but also as a dock for travelling sailors to satisfy their earthly needs. And where there is travel, there are always merchants. A lot of merchants. Under these conditions Bilgewater has evolved to the city that it is, a city of legend.
With these grand stories in your mind, you were a bit disappointed upon arrival. What you could see about as far as your eye could see was ships and docks between each other. Most of the ships closer to the beach were steadily attached to the coast, some even had walkways through them. The city had extended beyond its' naturals borders by being built on water. There were platforms on top of ships, through ships and under ships. Houses built atop docks of old ships, most probably built from the wood gathered from broken ships, since the island was long ago stripped bare of most vegetation.
When your ship got closer, you also noticed the bustle. It was a chaos out there. Upon closer inspection, most ships were taverns, brothels or shops. There were areas encircled with ships with guards posted in front of them: Most probably "palaces" of rich merchants. The folk here was everything between angel and demon: Wizard college dropouts casting cantrips for a copper, clerics of each and every faith you had heard or dreamt of. Former soldiers and seamen, pickpockets and whores. Old people retired to a life of prostitutes and opium. Artificers holding their own shops in ships, some of designs you had never seen before. Even a few in mysterious floating balloons a few metres above the city surface, attached to a mast of a nearby vessel.
You spent a day or two in the city, getting used to your whole world swaying with the tides, and taking in the sights Bilgewater has to offer. Maybe shopped for something nice for yourself, or just used some of Bilgewater's pleasure stations. Either way, the day has come to walk to the Shining Dock and clear a bit of this mysterious man who calls himself Sir Alon, and what he has to tell you.
You approach the tavern, consisting of four ships and a platform. Tavern for the fancy and rich folk of the town, probably serving dishes flavoured with spices from all the way from Celestia and bewerages from the Xorn in the elemental plane of earth. As you do this, you notice a few other folk approaching it.
Private Mod Note
():
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
The Sage is occupied with the unspoken
and acts without effort.
Teaching without verbosity,
producing without possessing,
creating without regard to result,
claiming nothing,
the Sage has nothing to lose.
Nuele locates Sir Alon easily enough. The tavern only has few customers at this time of day, in this heat most residents wait until later to go on a dinner, after all. There are four out of about twenty tables occupied, and only one of them is occupied by a single man looking at you with a glass of wine in his hand.
Before Nuele starts to approach, a waitress comes to you: "Do you have a reservation, mister. We will be busy soon, and we don't want any.. Unwanted customers."
Sir Alon is the former magistrate of trade in Barbudas. He was given the title of a knight to honor his lifelong work to improve the trade routes and relations to neighbouring countries. He is known for being a silvertongued speaker and somewhat ruthless in his strategies. He is also a rigorous worshipper of Deneir.
The Sage is occupied with the unspoken
and acts without effort.
Teaching without verbosity,
producing without possessing,
creating without regard to result,
claiming nothing,
the Sage has nothing to lose.
The huge, black dragonkin falls from the sky to land on the platform. His wings beat a single time before he lightly touches down. He begins looking around for this knight who invited him to the city. So far, he was not impressed. The city was large, true, but it was dirty and teeming with all kinds of humanoid filth.
He stares around the tavern at all the patrons, feeling like he needed to take a bath.
Everything scares me... kitties scare me... squirrels scare me... corpses....corpses bring forth a pletora of confusing feeling which i prefer not to dwell on...:p
Vutha finds an opening in the cloth hanging over the opening, landing gracefully in the middle of the tavern, probably garnering attention from each one of the patrons, the owner and the waiters, who all seem to storm to him.
"Do you... Uh.. Have a reservation? You need to have one, you see."
In the middle of the fuss the waiters created, Vutha notices a lone man sitting in a table, drinking wine and looking at him with a smile.
Private Mod Note
():
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
The Sage is occupied with the unspoken
and acts without effort.
Teaching without verbosity,
producing without possessing,
creating without regard to result,
claiming nothing,
the Sage has nothing to lose.
Everything scares me... kitties scare me... squirrels scare me... corpses....corpses bring forth a pletora of confusing feeling which i prefer not to dwell on...:p
"I think Mister Alon may have made more than one set of arrangements today. You see, he sent me a letter too." Tessa skips into the tavern, smiling at the waiters. "Is this table for all of us, Mister Alon?"
Neruva strides into the tavern. Upon seeing the slowly growing crowd around a man with a glass of wine, she immediately becomes wary.
Which of you is Sir Alon? I wasn't told to expect anyone else.
Private Mod Note
():
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
And you, too, are one of us, and yet you are not. In your words I hear anger, hatred. I see a darkness that is not cold and lifeless, but is alive and moving, like a living entity. I feel caged, trapped, a yearning for escape. --Death Gate Cycle Volume 3: Fire Sea
What race is Halinn? I'd imagine we can see him at this point =p
Indeed.
Neruva produces the letter from her backpack, and tosses it onto the table.
You evidently have our attention, old man, now why are we here?
Private Mod Note
():
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
And you, too, are one of us, and yet you are not. In your words I hear anger, hatred. I see a darkness that is not cold and lifeless, but is alive and moving, like a living entity. I feel caged, trapped, a yearning for escape. --Death Gate Cycle Volume 3: Fire Sea
Sir Alon waves the confused and surprised waitresses away with his hand, enhancing the effect of the motion by stating that you really are part of his company. As the waitresses walk away leaving you as a group together, Sir Alon starts to speak: "Well, my friends. I am certain that you are eager to receive answers to your questions as soon as humanly possible, but I am aware that we still have to wait for a short while. Not everyone I invited has arrived just yet. I suggest that you order some of the delicacies available, swordfish is very good today, I figure. It's the middle of their mating season, after all. Don't worry, I'll pay the bills."
I'm waiting for others to post here, too. "Others" standing for Id Ego.
Private Mod Note
():
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
The Sage is occupied with the unspoken
and acts without effort.
Teaching without verbosity,
producing without possessing,
creating without regard to result,
claiming nothing,
the Sage has nothing to lose.
Vutha just stands near the table, his arms folded, starting at the knight and the others who were invited. The knight was hiding something. Or else he wouldn't have neglected to mention the others who were also invited.
Everything scares me... kitties scare me... squirrels scare me... corpses....corpses bring forth a pletora of confusing feeling which i prefer not to dwell on...:p
I'm waiting for others to post here, too. "Others" standing for Id Ego.
Whoops, sorry to jump the gun.
Not one to turn down a free meal (and rather sick of her monotonous trail rations), Neruva takes a seat across from Sir Alon. After placing the pack between her feet, she hails a waitress over.
"Hey you! The man here seems to think you have a decent swordfish. I'd like to put that to the test if you don't mind. Bring a glass of wine while you're at it, too. "
Smugly, Neruva raises an eyeb row at Sir Alon, crosses her arms across her chest, and stares back at the group standing around the table.
"So who are the rest of you? Might as well get acquainted while we wait. Judging by what the -insert halinn's race here- said, I assume you're all here for the same reason. My name's Neruva."
Private Mod Note
():
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
And you, too, are one of us, and yet you are not. In your words I hear anger, hatred. I see a darkness that is not cold and lifeless, but is alive and moving, like a living entity. I feel caged, trapped, a yearning for escape. --Death Gate Cycle Volume 3: Fire Sea
The nearby waitress comes into the table to take the group's orders: "So two dishes of swordfish for appetizers and plenty of white wine. What will you have for the main course? We would like to begin preparing it while you eat your appetizers, since some of them take quite a while to prepare."
Before anyone else has a chance to respond, Sir Alon does: "Make the wine southern Barbudan, and make it five appetizers of swordfish and we take whatever the chef recommends for the main dish. Preferably no fish, though."
As the waitress starts to turn away for the kitched to deliver the order, Alon glances at Vutha's dubious gaze and continues, while looking at Vutha: "Hold it, bring pufferfish for the dragon-fellow. That way he won't automatically blame me if he gets poisoned." As the waitress finally leaves the table, he continues, speaking to no one in particular: "Seriously, if I had some motivation to harm any of you, I wouldn't've invited everyone at the same time, nor would I be buying you a dinner. You may relax at least for now. I just hope that the two others not here yet won't miss the main course."
Private Mod Note
():
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
The Sage is occupied with the unspoken
and acts without effort.
Teaching without verbosity,
producing without possessing,
creating without regard to result,
claiming nothing,
the Sage has nothing to lose.
"Judging by his reactions, he is the one who expects it. Personally I'd rather buy a scroll or two of a powerful spell and fire them off from a distance, maybe through a temporary portal. Poison is unreliable." Alon says, with a sigh. "The point is, if I wanted you dead, I would've probably hired someone else to do it anyway. I don't know what makes him so suspicious."
Private Mod Note
():
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
The Sage is occupied with the unspoken
and acts without effort.
Teaching without verbosity,
producing without possessing,
creating without regard to result,
claiming nothing,
the Sage has nothing to lose.
Sorry halinn. I was on my phone and didn't see the previous post until mine had finally finished going through. Neruva likes humans.
Upon hearing Nuela's banter with Sir Alon, Neruva becomes mildly suspicious.
Magistrate? The two of you have met before, then? Well, I suppose that's irrelevant. You say you speak words of power, Nuele? I'm no savant, but i'm not your common peasant either; yet, i'm not sure I know what you mean by that. My power lies in my weapon, Fury. She's seen me through many a battle. I may not have the renown that you do, (At this point, Neruva seems to be lost in memory) but I assure you my skill with Fury is legitimate.
Private Mod Note
():
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
And you, too, are one of us, and yet you are not. In your words I hear anger, hatred. I see a darkness that is not cold and lifeless, but is alive and moving, like a living entity. I feel caged, trapped, a yearning for escape. --Death Gate Cycle Volume 3: Fire Sea
Tessa had dragged a high stool over to the table and was sitting on it, unabashedly studying the dragonkin. At Nuele's words, though, she turned. "But doesn't everyone use magic words in their spells? I know a little of magic, and everyone who uses it says strange things whenever they cast."
She looks around then, and she shrugs out of her pack, hooking a foot around one of its straps. "I'm Tessa, by the way. Just call me a scout." She looks around the table, gesturing with her right hand. "Neruva, Nuele...Alon....what's your name, scaley?" Her hand ends, naturally, at the dragonkin.
And you, too, are one of us, and yet you are not. In your words I hear anger, hatred. I see a darkness that is not cold and lifeless, but is alive and moving, like a living entity. I feel caged, trapped, a yearning for escape. --Death Gate Cycle Volume 3: Fire Sea
sorry, meant to post last night.. but i got distracted.
Barek rides his lion towards the tavern, both of their armors glinting in the sunlight. Upon reaching the tavern, Barek dismounts and leads his lion companion into the tavern. "I am here to see an... Arlon?" he states quesioningly.
Join Planar Chaos, A Colo clan
Generation B1: The first time you see this, copy and paste it into your sig and add 1 to the generation. social experiment.
Vutha just keeps his arms folded and his wings in tight. Looking down at Sir Alon, he says "Humankin often lie and deceive. I'm suspicious because of what I have seen of your kind, human." The Dragonkin's tone is gruff, but not hostile or insulting. "I don't have a reason to distrust you. But what you are makes me cautious."
The Dragonkin glares at Tessa. "Vutha. Not 'scaley'."
Everything scares me... kitties scare me... squirrels scare me... corpses....corpses bring forth a pletora of confusing feeling which i prefer not to dwell on...:p
Lighten up, Scaley, (then, in mock reparation) errrr, Vutha. The man has a good point, if he wanted us dead, we'd probably already be dead. Might as well take a bite of a free meal, yeah?
Neruva looks at the newcomer.
You with the kitten, what's your story?
Private Mod Note
():
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
And you, too, are one of us, and yet you are not. In your words I hear anger, hatred. I see a darkness that is not cold and lifeless, but is alive and moving, like a living entity. I feel caged, trapped, a yearning for escape. --Death Gate Cycle Volume 3: Fire Sea
Join Planar Chaos, A Colo clan
Generation B1: The first time you see this, copy and paste it into your sig and add 1 to the generation. social experiment.
Alon interrupts the conversation between Barek and Neruva: "No, I am. Please have a seat and enjoy the meal. One of the people I invited is yet to arrive." Then he turns to a nearby waitress and asks her to bring a platter of swordfish for Barek and something for his lion, too.
As the group processes through appetizers and they tavern starts bringing the main dish, meat stew (And pieces of raw meat and a large bone for the lion.), in, Alon seems a bit disappointed.
"Well, I figure five out of six isn't bad. The letter probably got lost on its' way. I just have to hope it's not lost in wrong hands..." Alon speaks, pondering to himself. "But anyway, I better get to the business, right? That's why you all have made your way all the way to Bilgewater, after all."
Then, lowering his voice just enough for the nearby tables to be unable to hear but not too much to avoid seeming suspicious, he continues: "Long story short, somebody is fueling an uprising in Barbudas, extorting local nobles and strong churches to join in, offering bribes in return for it and threatening with slaughter of them and their families. It has to be the work of a large organization, and they are without a doubt serious about this. A few of the more valiant nobles have gone missing with their families already." Sir Alon takes a slight pause to see if everyone is listening, then resumes speaking: "Barbudas has, for a long time, been a rather peaceful nation. It has avoided direct conflict through being large enough to muster a huge army faster than most threatening countries, through strongarm techniques and by having closeby nations be dependent on it for trade. The long years of peace around this part of world are largely result of these policies of Barbudas. Whoever it is fueling the rebellion must be unhappy with this. I also believe that after they have Barbudas, they are willing to conquer the nearby countries as well."
"I do not have much information regarding this organization, but I have been able to muster a few pieces of information: They participate in some kind of worship, relish combat and battle in all of its' forms, and train rigorously. Also, their symbol is a flaming wolf. Here, let me show you." Alon speaks, reaches for his pocket and brings out a short dagger, clearly of great quality, and which has a flaming wolf inscribed on to the pommel.
"I trust that you understand how important it is that we stop them. And just in case you don't, I'll just say that I have monetary interests regarding Barbudas and trade, and that I am willing to share some of that income in case its' stability is ensured." He speaks, letting the dagger travel around the group. "And I assure you, I am no poor man." He finishes, with a smile wide enough to reveal a glint of a diamond in the back of his mouth.
Private Mod Note
():
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
The Sage is occupied with the unspoken
and acts without effort.
Teaching without verbosity,
producing without possessing,
creating without regard to result,
claiming nothing,
the Sage has nothing to lose.
"So, saving the world, or at least this little piece of it? Sounds like...fun." Tessa looks around the table, and if anyone is paying very close attention to her instead of to their dinner, they might notice a very calculating expression flicker across her face....but it vanishes almost instantly, replaced by her usual cheerfulness. "So what do you say, ladies and gentlemen and....Vutha? Think we can play nice with Mister Alon?"
After tearing quickly through her meal (being raised an orphan taught her to eat your food fast), Neruva looks up at Sir Alon.
Is that all you got for us? A pretty dagger? We're gonna need something a little better to start this after all.
Private Mod Note
():
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
And you, too, are one of us, and yet you are not. In your words I hear anger, hatred. I see a darkness that is not cold and lifeless, but is alive and moving, like a living entity. I feel caged, trapped, a yearning for escape. --Death Gate Cycle Volume 3: Fire Sea
"So all you want us to do is stop some cult from starting a revolution that would throw this land into chaos, so that your personal assets can be safe, is that right?"
Join Planar Chaos, A Colo clan
Generation B1: The first time you see this, copy and paste it into your sig and add 1 to the generation. social experiment.
"Oh, it's more than personal assets. I have relatives and friends in Barbudas, too. And the obvious motivation to not see what I worked to create for years to go to waste. Re-establishing a country in my old days might be a bit too much work, and I'd want people to remember me after I'm gone." Sir Alon says, very calmly, sipping a bit of wine in the end. Then he turns to you, almost angry: "And for the goddamn reason of saving thousands of lifes. What do you guys think of me, really? That I am some sadistic chainkiller?"
Private Mod Note
():
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
The Sage is occupied with the unspoken
and acts without effort.
Teaching without verbosity,
producing without possessing,
creating without regard to result,
claiming nothing,
the Sage has nothing to lose.
To post a comment, please login or register a new account.
I, Sir Alon, approach you regarding very important affairs going on at the moment. These affairs concern the crown of the kingdom of Barbuda, although I am fairly certain that the crownholder is unaware of this. Nevertheless, I am led to believe that an organization, quite powerful one, might I add, wishes ill to the kingdom of Barbuda.
While I have nothing but my word for assurance, and cannot go into details in this letter in fear of it getting caught in the wrong hands, I ask you to meet me in Bilgewater. Noon of the fifteenth day of the blue moon, in the tavern of the Shining Dock. I quarantee to you that there will be rewards if you will take action.
Sin cera, Alon."
Each one of you decided to take the bait, either in hopes of glory or treasure. Maybe both, or just for the thrill of adventure. What bad could come from meeting this fellow anyway?
So, you travelled to Bilgewater. Most probably by a ship, unless you have magical travel at your disposal. Bilgewater. Probably one of the most important cities on the material plane. While Sigil's motto is that "If it can't be had in Sigil, it can't be had anywhere.", the motto of Bilgewater is probably: "If it can't be had in Bilgewater, you probably lacked the means to possess it."
Bilgewater resides in the middle of the large channel that is the only route by sea between Barbudas and Indius. In the middle of the most prosperous trade route on earth. Its' location lends itself very nicely to pirates, but also as a dock for travelling sailors to satisfy their earthly needs. And where there is travel, there are always merchants. A lot of merchants. Under these conditions Bilgewater has evolved to the city that it is, a city of legend.
With these grand stories in your mind, you were a bit disappointed upon arrival. What you could see about as far as your eye could see was ships and docks between each other. Most of the ships closer to the beach were steadily attached to the coast, some even had walkways through them. The city had extended beyond its' naturals borders by being built on water. There were platforms on top of ships, through ships and under ships. Houses built atop docks of old ships, most probably built from the wood gathered from broken ships, since the island was long ago stripped bare of most vegetation.
When your ship got closer, you also noticed the bustle. It was a chaos out there. Upon closer inspection, most ships were taverns, brothels or shops. There were areas encircled with ships with guards posted in front of them: Most probably "palaces" of rich merchants. The folk here was everything between angel and demon: Wizard college dropouts casting cantrips for a copper, clerics of each and every faith you had heard or dreamt of. Former soldiers and seamen, pickpockets and whores. Old people retired to a life of prostitutes and opium. Artificers holding their own shops in ships, some of designs you had never seen before. Even a few in mysterious floating balloons a few metres above the city surface, attached to a mast of a nearby vessel.
You spent a day or two in the city, getting used to your whole world swaying with the tides, and taking in the sights Bilgewater has to offer. Maybe shopped for something nice for yourself, or just used some of Bilgewater's pleasure stations. Either way, the day has come to walk to the Shining Dock and clear a bit of this mysterious man who calls himself Sir Alon, and what he has to tell you.
You approach the tavern, consisting of four ships and a platform. Tavern for the fancy and rich folk of the town, probably serving dishes flavoured with spices from all the way from Celestia and bewerages from the Xorn in the elemental plane of earth. As you do this, you notice a few other folk approaching it.
and acts without effort.
Teaching without verbosity,
producing without possessing,
creating without regard to result,
claiming nothing,
the Sage has nothing to lose.
Before Nuele starts to approach, a waitress comes to you: "Do you have a reservation, mister. We will be busy soon, and we don't want any.. Unwanted customers."
He is about 70 years old. Human.
and acts without effort.
Teaching without verbosity,
producing without possessing,
creating without regard to result,
claiming nothing,
the Sage has nothing to lose.
He stares around the tavern at all the patrons, feeling like he needed to take a bath.
{Magic: The RPG}
"Do you... Uh.. Have a reservation? You need to have one, you see."
In the middle of the fuss the waiters created, Vutha notices a lone man sitting in a table, drinking wine and looking at him with a smile.
and acts without effort.
Teaching without verbosity,
producing without possessing,
creating without regard to result,
claiming nothing,
the Sage has nothing to lose.
Without waiting for an answer, Vutha strides to the table the knight sits at. "You Sir Alon?"
{Magic: The RPG}
Which of you is Sir Alon? I wasn't told to expect anyone else.
Indeed.
Neruva produces the letter from her backpack, and tosses it onto the table.
You evidently have our attention, old man, now why are we here?
and acts without effort.
Teaching without verbosity,
producing without possessing,
creating without regard to result,
claiming nothing,
the Sage has nothing to lose.
{Magic: The RPG}
Whoops, sorry to jump the gun.
Not one to turn down a free meal (and rather sick of her monotonous trail rations), Neruva takes a seat across from Sir Alon. After placing the pack between her feet, she hails a waitress over.
"Hey you! The man here seems to think you have a decent swordfish. I'd like to put that to the test if you don't mind. Bring a glass of wine while you're at it, too. "
Smugly, Neruva raises an eyeb row at Sir Alon, crosses her arms across her chest, and stares back at the group standing around the table.
"So who are the rest of you? Might as well get acquainted while we wait. Judging by what the -insert halinn's race here- said, I assume you're all here for the same reason. My name's Neruva."
Before anyone else has a chance to respond, Sir Alon does: "Make the wine southern Barbudan, and make it five appetizers of swordfish and we take whatever the chef recommends for the main dish. Preferably no fish, though."
As the waitress starts to turn away for the kitched to deliver the order, Alon glances at Vutha's dubious gaze and continues, while looking at Vutha: "Hold it, bring pufferfish for the dragon-fellow. That way he won't automatically blame me if he gets poisoned." As the waitress finally leaves the table, he continues, speaking to no one in particular: "Seriously, if I had some motivation to harm any of you, I wouldn't've invited everyone at the same time, nor would I be buying you a dinner. You may relax at least for now. I just hope that the two others not here yet won't miss the main course."
and acts without effort.
Teaching without verbosity,
producing without possessing,
creating without regard to result,
claiming nothing,
the Sage has nothing to lose.
and acts without effort.
Teaching without verbosity,
producing without possessing,
creating without regard to result,
claiming nothing,
the Sage has nothing to lose.
Upon hearing Nuela's banter with Sir Alon, Neruva becomes mildly suspicious.
Magistrate? The two of you have met before, then? Well, I suppose that's irrelevant. You say you speak words of power, Nuele? I'm no savant, but i'm not your common peasant either; yet, i'm not sure I know what you mean by that. My power lies in my weapon, Fury. She's seen me through many a battle. I may not have the renown that you do, (At this point, Neruva seems to be lost in memory) but I assure you my skill with Fury is legitimate.
She looks around then, and she shrugs out of her pack, hooking a foot around one of its straps. "I'm Tessa, by the way. Just call me a scout." She looks around the table, gesturing with her right hand. "Neruva, Nuele...Alon....what's your name, scaley?" Her hand ends, naturally, at the dragonkin.
It's all magic gibberish to me.
Which Final Fantasy Character Are You?
Outbreak
Generation B1: The first time you see this, copy and paste it into your sig and add 1 to the generation. social experiment.
The Dragonkin glares at Tessa. "Vutha. Not 'scaley'."
{Magic: The RPG}
Neruva looks at the newcomer.
You with the kitten, what's your story?
Which Final Fantasy Character Are You?
Outbreak
Generation B1: The first time you see this, copy and paste it into your sig and add 1 to the generation. social experiment.
As the group processes through appetizers and they tavern starts bringing the main dish, meat stew (And pieces of raw meat and a large bone for the lion.), in, Alon seems a bit disappointed.
"Well, I figure five out of six isn't bad. The letter probably got lost on its' way. I just have to hope it's not lost in wrong hands..." Alon speaks, pondering to himself. "But anyway, I better get to the business, right? That's why you all have made your way all the way to Bilgewater, after all."
Then, lowering his voice just enough for the nearby tables to be unable to hear but not too much to avoid seeming suspicious, he continues: "Long story short, somebody is fueling an uprising in Barbudas, extorting local nobles and strong churches to join in, offering bribes in return for it and threatening with slaughter of them and their families. It has to be the work of a large organization, and they are without a doubt serious about this. A few of the more valiant nobles have gone missing with their families already." Sir Alon takes a slight pause to see if everyone is listening, then resumes speaking: "Barbudas has, for a long time, been a rather peaceful nation. It has avoided direct conflict through being large enough to muster a huge army faster than most threatening countries, through strongarm techniques and by having closeby nations be dependent on it for trade. The long years of peace around this part of world are largely result of these policies of Barbudas. Whoever it is fueling the rebellion must be unhappy with this. I also believe that after they have Barbudas, they are willing to conquer the nearby countries as well."
"I do not have much information regarding this organization, but I have been able to muster a few pieces of information: They participate in some kind of worship, relish combat and battle in all of its' forms, and train rigorously. Also, their symbol is a flaming wolf. Here, let me show you." Alon speaks, reaches for his pocket and brings out a short dagger, clearly of great quality, and which has a flaming wolf inscribed on to the pommel.
"I trust that you understand how important it is that we stop them. And just in case you don't, I'll just say that I have monetary interests regarding Barbudas and trade, and that I am willing to share some of that income in case its' stability is ensured." He speaks, letting the dagger travel around the group. "And I assure you, I am no poor man." He finishes, with a smile wide enough to reveal a glint of a diamond in the back of his mouth.
and acts without effort.
Teaching without verbosity,
producing without possessing,
creating without regard to result,
claiming nothing,
the Sage has nothing to lose.
After tearing quickly through her meal (being raised an orphan taught her to eat your food fast), Neruva looks up at Sir Alon.
Is that all you got for us? A pretty dagger? We're gonna need something a little better to start this after all.
Which Final Fantasy Character Are You?
Outbreak
Generation B1: The first time you see this, copy and paste it into your sig and add 1 to the generation. social experiment.
and acts without effort.
Teaching without verbosity,
producing without possessing,
creating without regard to result,
claiming nothing,
the Sage has nothing to lose.