[DnD 4e PbP] Vale of Buried Shadows, Chapter 2: Signs & Portents (IC)

Aegis

The King's Road:

The old, trusted, overgrown path winding its way up from the southern former empire of Nerath, between dense forests, rolling hills, and reaching peaks steadily towards the northern lands. You find yourselves nearing the end of this road, on a lightly cloud-spotted day in early Spring. The journey has been mostly quiet, aside from the passing glances paid to you by the occasional farm when the Road inches near. These last few days, however, have seen a bit more activity and some occasional conversation. As you near what one could only generously call the 'Heart' of the Nentir Vale, more and more signs of civilization become apparent, the Road under your feet even becoming wider and less unkempt.

Today you reach your destination: Fallcrest. The town, turned burgeoning farming and river trading community in recent years, lies smack dab at the intersection between the very Road beneath your feet, and the sturdier dwarven-constructed path that is the Trade Road winding its way down from the eastern portions of the Vale. The 'city' itself stradles the Nentir River right at the Nentir Falls (which shows just how much lack of imagination the first settlers in this part of the world had in naming their geographic features), separating this quaint outpost of civilization into Upper and Lower Quays, connected by several cliff staircases.

Luckily for you, there is no climbing this day as you approach the city from the Eastern Gate, perhaps a dozen people milling about the entrance, being waved through or having polite conversation with the few guards posted on duty. Impressively constructed, the gate itself is built of strong timber, presumably from a long-harvested forest, in between a pair of well-maintained stone towers dwarfing the gate on either side. From the state of the ground in front of the gate, you doubt the gate has been closed in some time. For those of you interested in such things, the commander stationed just to the side of the passing citizens appears to be an unshaven dwarf adorned in what you swear is rusting plate armour that nonetheless strikes an intimidating figure. He glances in your group's direction occasionally, but seems to give no hint at any displeasure (or pleasure) from anyone passing through this day, provided you don't make a ruckus.

For you, your journey along the Road has come to an end. Yet oddly, it has also come to a beginning. Where to go from here and what lies in store for your destiny is entirely up to you. Rumblings from the South had spurred your travel here, to a more hospitable climate, but also the prospect of work intrigues you. This land is known for its frontier nature. Danger, and long-forgotten treasures, lurk around every corner.

---

OOC Notes: Use this (SlateGray) colour for OOC text, and White/Default for IC text. Mechanical questions in the OOC thread.

At this point the party is free to mill about the entrance, or continue through and proceed with exploring the city.

Rius

Never thought I'd be back this soon... And to Fallcrest, of all places.

Rakash hung back a little as the group approached the city gates. He'd never been to Fallcrest before, back when he lived in the south of the Vale, but he'd heard plenty enough about the city. The largest collection of lives in the Vale with the possible exception of Hammerfast, it was not a place for peaceful coexistence of civilization and nature.

Though he did appreciate the clever planning of the city, hovering over the falls like that. Surely someplace in this city has an excellent view to appreciate that splendor from.

And just what am I doing here, exactly? He'd followed the others more out of curiosity than out of any real plan. Aidan has a most unique gift, he thought to himself; he lost his sister, yet I can see her spirit suffused in him as plain as day. How fortunate... Almost unconsciously, Rakash raises a hand to Garlan's symbol of Melora, lost in his own thoughts of recent past.

For my posts, anything in italics is going to be inner monologue. Looking forward to our adventures!

tzeentchling

"Nadia, look! Have you ever seen such a brilliant blue as those butterfly's wings?"

"No, Aidan, I haven't. But see, we've made it to Fallcrest."

"Huh? Oh, hah, so we have. Nice gate." Aidan wanders over to it and cups his ear to the wood, as if he were listening to something on the other side.

"Really! That many people! And I agree, you certainly could use a good polish."

The words in pink are Nadia's; in general, others can't hear them, but for this style it makes more sense for everyone to be privy to them.

Horseshoe

Fallcrest... the "Lucky Gnome Taphouse".

A half-orc and a human sat across the wooden table from one another, divided by a pile of dented and dirty copper coins. Each held a dagger in his right hand, with his left hand squarely on the table. Though the noise of the Taphouse continued to rage on, the two scarred and ugly faces stared at one another intently as a small circle of gamblers and cut-throats began making bets.

Whatever signal had been given, both daggers pounded into the wood simultaneously, each man having plunged his dagger into the table between the thumb and forefinger of his own left hand. Slowly, they began to continue stabbing between each finger on their hand in an identical and rhythmic pattern.

The speed picked up and the gamblers began to hoot. Still the two players kept their sight locked on one another. The sound of the knives hitting the table was like a frenzied drumbeat as the pace picked up, and splinters of wood began flying into the air about them. The half-orc began to smile.

To some of the onlookers had seen like minutes. In fact, it had been somewhere around ten seconds before the human screamed in pain after planting the dagger firmly into the meat between his thumb and forefinger. The gamblers hooted and laughed, while Snarl snorted knowingly and swept the pile of copper pieces into a leather bag.

"Nobody beats Snarl at Knife-Hand!" said one of the gamblers, happy at having won his bet. He put a hand on the half-orc's shoulder that was quickly swept away and pinned to the table. A dagger slammed in between the offending party's two middle fingers.

"You're lucky it's that way. And if you lay a hand on me again, Roth, I'll hack off the entire thing."

"Gods, Snarl... you're in a mood," said Roth, pulling back his hand as Snarl released it.

Roth was a half-elf. Which was enough to make Snarl half-despise him, he surmised. He should've known better than to keep questioning the half-orc, but he spoke up before any of the other gamblers could start jeering.

"What's this I heard about you hiring out?"

"Yeah, that's what you heard, and that's all there is to it." Snarl stood and turned to face Roth. His rangy build and full height were not meant to be threatening, but next to the soft-faced half-elf he looked damned menacing. "What do you want? A copper for having big ears?"

This garnered a good laugh from the crowd, and Roth backed away... which was probably the smart thing to do.

Sakutian

Kell busied himself with removing the bridle and saddle from Olec while he glanced around the Eastern Gate of Fallcrest. The horse shook it's white mane appreciatively and lipped Kells brown cloak before turning his attention to s small patch of grass growing nearby. He let the horse busy himself with his meal while he examined the stout gate more closely. It wasn't the first time he had guided someone to Fallcrest and he always favored this gate as it was much safer than climbing but the sight always impressed him. While most marveled at the waterfall it was the gate itself which always drew Kell's attention. Even from the ground he could see that it was not in the finest state of repair, still it put anything in Winterhvaen to shame.

A slithering sensation circling his left wrist suddenly shook Kell from his observation. He tugged the left arm of his robe down making certain that the copper bracelet fashioned in the likeness of a snake he wore around his wrist was fully hidden. Nathair had been sleeping for so long Kell had almost forgotten his familiar's presence, a mistake he'd always regretted in the past. On more than one occasion other's had become unsettled by the snake's sudden bursts of life. It was hardly a surprise. The countryside was rarely witness to true magic such as familiars and it's resident's didn't always trust it.

"You should let me sun Kell, I can feel the warmth even through your tattered clothes." Nathair spoke with a decidedly feminine tone that whispered and slid through Kell's mind like a snake through grass.

"I can't do that now and you know it Nathair, be still and I'll let you warm yourself by the fire this evening when we're alone."

"Always the practical one."

"I wonder where I learned that trait?"

A quiet dry chuckle was the familiar's only reply and Kell felt her go still around his wrist. A low surge of warmth through the band reminded him of his friend's presence as he turned his attention back to serving as a guide.

I'd like to check to see if I know about Snarl or where to find a decent inn in Fallcrest.
Streetwise Check: 20
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Aegis

A mixture of smells seem to fill the air as your group makes its way amongst the Eastern Gate, melanges of meat, bread, and various stews from passing merchants or carried along the wind from further within the city, as well as more labouring smells of tanners or men hard at work at their crafts.

As you loiter around the entrance, the dwarf you had noticed simply shakes his head, seemingly displeased yet not unaccustomed to seeing these kind of events, gesturing to one of the nearby guards who beings to approach your group as the dwarf himself heads off in a different direction, exemplifying delegation prime at work.

"I'm sorry, sir, but you'll want to keep a reign of your horse there," the assigned guard interjects, gesturing to the grazing white-maned steed while smiling lightly, clearly quite satisfied with his job at least lately, "It keeps the gate generally free of wandering animals, and keeps both the yelling from the stable-master just a few paces beyond this gate from lost business, and the yelling from the Sergeant when he steps into a pile of shit, to a minimum."

Kell:

Passing talk from your previous stay at Winterhaven and previous trips in this area has made mention of some troubles in Fallcrest. Something of a Strangler, always spoken of in worried tones that "thank god they have to deal with such crime as opposed to hardworking folk of the West." You seem to confirm this rumour when you spot a WANTED picture inside the gates, making mention of a string of murders over the past years, unsolved and unwitnessed though offering a small reward if information leads to his capture.

In terms of lodging, you recall that Fallcrest has a notable inn at its northern entrance.

Sakutian

"Apologies sir, best keep the Sergeant in good spirits eh?" Kell turned towards his horse a let out a quick high pitched whistle. Olec's ears snapped up at the sound and he dutifully returned to Kell still chewing a mouthful of grass. Kell slung the bridle and saddle back onto the horse not bothering to refasten the straps. It had been a long ride for them both and Olec deserved a long rest. Once his steed was seen to Kell turned his attention to the guard who had approached the group."I haven't visited the city in a few months. Any news you'd care to share?"

Horseshoe

Fallcrest... the "Lucky Gnome Taphouse".

Snarl was buying "copper beers", the worst swill in the house (the swill of swill) for some of the gamblers with his meager winnings. Bets at the Lucky Gnome were as small as its diminutive owner... the dregs of society gathered there to gamble what little coin they had.

"Snarl!" Another half-orc barked at the scarred cut-throat, "Who in their right mind would hire you to do anything?"

"You answered your own question, idiot. I know this city like the back of my hand. I can find a shadow, track down a mark, or hop a roof better than anyone else I or you have seen in this scum-hole." Snarl downed his Copper Swill. "And since I'm a half-orc, people assume I'll work cheap."

"Local work, eh?"

"Probably not for the locals, though... you know how they are," he said, gesturing to a group of humans and half-elves drinking the more expensive stock, "they look at me and just imagine their throats getting slit."

"Ha. They're wise to do so."

"I'd be unwise to do so. Don't care to have a rope around my neck just yet."

The laughter at Snarl's dark humor ensued with the sort of casual viciousness of dangerous company. The drinking continued, and the conversation returned to the regular sort of boasting and rough jocularity.

Kay

"I see cats, Atherton. Lots of cats."

A large raven alights in the tree closest to Kell's horse, Olec, shaking out its wings with a raucous caw.

Atherton Kess nods towards the bird, and lets out a low whistle.

"It's a city, Lenoir. There are going to be cats."

The small, well-dressed man comes to a halt alongside Kell, and nods towards the city. "Fallcrest has some truly breathtaking sights, for those unaccustomed to them, I hear," Atherton says. "I'd very much like to see Nentir Falls, if time allows it. I hear it is a short distance from the, uh, Nentir Inn?" The young man lets that question hang in the air.

His expensive clothing is in some need of attention, after the long journey, and Atherton eyes a small tear in his cloak with obvious distaste. The nearby raven caws again, this time sounding more like laughter. "And then perhaps a seamstress," the young man mutters, before looking between Kell, the guardsman, and then over towards Rakash and Aidan. "Ah, also. I would love to investigate the House of the Sun, Pelor's temple, you know, and the Moonsong Temple. Fascinating architecture, I am told."

Aegis

"News? Hmmm," the guard pauses, trying to recollect anything that travellers might consider news and not simply everyday occurrences, "Well, not so much here in town beyond your standard crime spree amongst the Lower Quays, but then, that's always how it's been. Trade's picking up past few months downriver, so hopefully that'll put some of 'em to work and out of gambling houses.

Aside from that, just your regular happenings in the Vale. Trader's have been mentioning an increase in bandit activity along the road, though I simply chalk it up to the fact that we're out of winter now, so there's bound to be more folk on the roads for bandits to want to rob.

Glancing over at Kell, he nods, "The Inn's just to the west of the Falls, sir. You'll get a good view as you cross the bridge I bet. You'll pass within sight of the Screamin' Dwarf's House... pausing abruptly as the Guard realizes what he just said, "Err...I mean...the House of the Sun, no offense to the Gods there. You'll pass within sight of it when you head to the Inn. Moonsong Temple's just west of the stables here..."

ERICKSONN!, is yelled from somewhere to the south around the front of the gates, out of sight but in a deep, commanding voice.

Startled, the guard continues, stepping out of your way, "Apologies, we're not paid to chat all day. If you have any more questions I'm sure the stable-hands will be more than willing to point you folks in the right direction. Have a good stay," he finishes before starting towards the location of the yelling.

Kay

"So, Kell," Kess asks, after nodding his thanks to the guardsman. "We should perhaps stable your horse within the city walls, and explore the city, yes?" The debonair young man looks back towards Fallcrest, before addressing his guide once more. "Are you as adept at navigating urban environments as you are out in the wilds? Maybe we should spend some time at a tavern frequented by the more adventurous, if you know of one. See if we could swell our numbers with a like-minded sort. Preferably someone at least as burly as Rakash," Atherton continues, gesturing the Shifter woodsman. "Having one more strong swordarm could only be beneficial, if we were to pick up some mercenary work or somesuch."

As Atherton speaks, the large raven watches, preening at its feathers from time to time.

Aegis

As the party moves in about the gate, conversing amongst itself, the immediate environs of the eastern city spread out before them. Beyond the people coming in behind them, travelling in small groups from just outside the city or walking their own transportation past them, are a few merchant stalls attracting the usual fare of people. Smells which you detected just outside the gate originate at least partially from these stalls as a few contain merchants selling food and other wares immediately to anyone coming into Fallcrest.

Just past these stalls, maybe a minute's walk within the gate to your right appear to be a rather large stables area. A few young men are busily moving back and forth to tend to riders dropping off their horses, or getting ready to depart. Directing them, and speaking directly to those who stop by the stables, appear to be a rather boisterous halfling man who appears to spend much of his time simply talking rather than directly working at anything.

Beyond the stables the road continues for some time, past houses or shops before immediately dropping away, a slight view of the Lower Quays apparent to you in the distance. A faint mist or fog seems to rise just above the stables and a few of the houses to your right, but you don't see a clear view of the Falls from this current position.

Finally, a bell tolls from the impressive structure right behind the stables itself and at the end of the road which heads off over the cliffs. White minarets raise themselves above all the nearby buildings, and a few reliefs of what appear to be hunters or woodland creatures adorn the walls. A few people wander in and out of the impressive temple, a pair of gown-clad individuals standing watch at either side of the entrance, greeting all those who pass by.

Sakutian

Seeing the stables Kell's first concern was seeing that his horse was fed, sheltered, and watered as soon as possible. He pulled his staff free of the leather harness on his saddle and looked at the his companions, all of whom seemed busy admiring the inner workings of Fallcrest. "Pardon me I'll only be a minute." Keeping a firm hold on Olec's reigns Kell guided the horse into the stable area and approached the halfling who seemed to be in charge. "Sir I'd like to stable my horse here, what is your price?"

Rius

Rakash moves along with the others through the gate, dismissing the stables as an irrelevancy fairly quickly. Haven't yet been to anyplace I couldn't walk into or out of, he thinks with a smile, but all thoughts of humor go out of his head when the white temple comes into view.

The depictions on the walls trigger an old memory in his head of Garlan explaining Melora's realm of influence among civilized men. Diverting from the group for a moment, he walks up to one of the gowned individuals at the entrance.

"Excuse me, sir; is this temple dedicated to The Wild Goddess?"

Horseshoe

Fallcrest... the "Lucky Gnome Taphouse".

The half-orcs that were now gathered around Snarl pricked their ears up at the sound of the bell, each of them uttering low growling sounds.

"Every day," one shook his head, "ringing for their Gods, their Kings, their ancient victories. Nothing they've earned themselves."

"It's because they're weak, Turl. All their boasts are of the past."

"Exactly. They've done nothing and yet praise themselves. Fallcrest Pigs."

"Someday we're going to cut that bell down... and we'll stand on the roofs and howl for Gruumsh."

"And until then, what? We just sit here and take it?"

"No. We wait." Snarl raised his dirty, stained mug of Swill. "Gruumsh."

They all drank their mugs down, and one began banging on the table to get the attention of the waitress.

Kay

Atherton raises his hand to shield them from the sun, so as to get a better look at the impressive white building at the end of the street.

"The Moonsong Temple, I believe," Atherton states, as Rakash walks towards the building. "Another place of interest to me." He follows Rakash, at a distance, while Kell tends to his mount. The human seems a little more at ease now, in an urban environment, and the minor tear in his cloak seems to be forgotten. On a nearby rooftop, a large raven clacks its beak and croaks out a possessive, territorial challenge.

"Don't tell me you're going to pay homage at Corellon's shrine, Atherton," teases Lenoir in the secret tongue he shares with his master.

"Avandra's, actually," is Atherton's reply, sounding like a tongue-click and a low, almost strangled sound to the casual observer. "We're on a journey, after all."

Aegis

Kell: "Ah, welcome, welcome my good sir!" The cheerful halfling, says with a smile as he waves off departing customers, "Lannar Thistleton at your service. And what a nice pair of horses you have there too! We'll be able to take care of both of them quite nicely for you for just the very affordable price of one gold piece per day of stay for each, which includes all the food and care your animals will require!

And while you're here, would you like any particular guide of the city? Like I like to remind folk that happen to pass by, I know just about everything that happens in this here old town, if I do say so myself!

Rakash & Atherton (if he follows closer): One of the robed figures outside the temple smiles, bowing her head slightly, and upon further notice you note that the two figures appear to be adult elven figures, "This holy place is dedicated to the Lady Sehanine, but also contains the shrines of the Patron of the Arts, The Lady of Change, and the Wild Goddess, yes. You are welcome to partake in the midday service if you would like to hear the words of High Priest Ressilame Starlight. He is quite inspiring in his devotion.

Snarl: The halfling waitress rather cautiously approaches your group of rowdy half-orcs, collecting some of the empty mugs around the table and looking on slightly nervously for any particular orders of further rounds.

tzeentchling

Aidan is, like Rakash, drawn to the temple. He ignores the robed greeter, not out of intentional impoliteness but more as if the man simply doesn't exist in Aidan's world.

"Great spirits reside here, brother."

"I know! I can hear them singing!" Aidan closes his eyes and begins to sway back and forth, keeping time to a music only he can hear.

Sakutian

"Fair enough Mr. Thistleton." Kell discretely reached into the dark leather belt pouch he wore at his side, trying to avoid showing anyone with an eye to rob him exactly where his wealth was hidden, and drew out six gold coins which he deposited swiftly in the halfings hand. "I'd see my horse cared for, I believe this will purchase his lodgings for three days. The rest is yours. On another matter I do require a guide to the city, someone clever who knows their way and who would be capable of protecting travelers should the need arise. Could you suggest such a person?"

Kell is trying to be as charming as possible here, I'm going to hope a high roll and a fair amount of gold will get some useful information.
Diplomacy: 23
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Aegis

"Ah don't you worry about them, they'll be well and cared for!" Pocketting the money, still with the smile on his face he whistles, a young human boy rushing over to escort the horses into the stables. "As to your second question, you're looking for some hired help? Well, normally your kind...no offence of course, simply referring to well-travelled passer-byes such as yourselves...takes care of themselves fairly well, but there are a fair number of people looking for work around here. If you don't mind the Lower sections of town, you can probably find what you're looking for at the Lucky Gnome Taphouse." He pauses, digging around a pocket before withdrawing a very crudely drawn map of what appears to be the city, moving over so that you can see where he's pointing. "Labourer...bar, amongst other things. Probably not the safest, so I wouldn't recommend it or the inns nearby for lodging, but you'll find folks looking for work about there. Anything else I can be doing for you?"

Kay

Atherton inclines his head towards the temple greeter, and smiles warmly. "I wish to say a few words at the shrine to Lady Luck, my companions and I are on a journey of sorts. Perhaps once we are settled in lodgings, we would be able to return for the evening's devotions."

A little human interaction in an urban setting seems to put Atherton at ease, and he quickly finds his way to the shrine. After saying a short prayer to Avandra, he leaves some coppers in the offering plate, and rejoins the group, waiting for Kell to finish stabling his mount. Aidan's movement catches his attention, and he regards the dwarf quietly and patiently for the moment. Most interesting.

Sakutian

"No you've be most helpful already thank you." Pocketing the crude map and gently patting Olec on the side as he walked away from the stables Kell did a quick tally of what spell components he had ready. If they were going to be wandering into the Lower sections things could get a bit dicey. He spotted the other party members speaking to a temple greeter in front of the Moonsong Temple, working his way through the street he rejoined them quietly listening as the robed figure spoke.

Once they seemed finished speaking he said "I've learned where we may be able to hire a guide to help us move through the city, we should make our way the Lucky Gnome Taphouse before it gets dark."

Rius

"No, that's quite all right... thank you for the information, though." Another time, perhaps...

Rakash turns and listens as Kell mentions a possible guide in the city. Lucky Gnome Taphouse, he wonders; What's so lucky about a Gnome?

Nevertheless, he nods his assent and waves farewell to the robed figure in front of the temple.

Kay

"I agree," Atherton says, addressing Kell. "Though we do have quite some time before dark, I feel. To the Lucky Gnome Taphouse, then away to find our next source of coin? My pockets are feeling rather light of late. I need to fill them with something cold, yellow and shiny."

The slight human smiles easily, and looks from face to face. Given Aidan's state of reverie, Atherton raises his voice a little. "Shall we head to the Taphouse, spiritfriend?" he asks, leaning towards the dwarf in an attempt to capture his attention for a moment.

Horseshoe

After downing his Swill with the rest of his people, Snarl let out a belch that was hot enough to steam the air in the smoky taphouse. He slammed his mug down on the table and looked intently at all of the halforcs around him.

"What is it now?"

"You're all too ugly to be seen with me," slurred Snarl, "Bugger off. I'm getting some air."

There was a bit of a laugh as a path was cleared for Snarl and he pushed through the door. When he hit the outside, smelling the familiar stench of the slow moving river, inebriation seemed to leave him immediately. He fished through his belt pouch, and found a length of tobacco held together with sticky molasses.

Snarl leaned against one of the wooden posts that supported the awning in front of the door. From his rough appearance (and the fact that he was half-blocking the entrance), one might have mistaken him for a bouncer. He rolled the plug around his mouth with his molars, watching the people pass in the streets, occasionally pausing to issue a gout of brown-stained spit from his scarred mouth.

Aegis

Finishing your business at the stables and temple, your group follows the road alongside the fading bells of Moonsong towards the edge of the cliff. At the edge of descent down the cliff face, you pause to admire the magnificent vista apparent from the Upper Quay: stretching out below you, in a valley along the banks of the Nentir River, lies the Lower Quay of Fallcrest. As busy, if not more so, than what you saw at the very entrance to the city, the difference in status is quickly apparent. Interspersed amongst houses and craftshops are a host of scattered ruins. Here and there a crumbling wall stands almost in absurd relief to the thriving building built directly adjacent. Past the town environs itself to the west the river churns its way south into the more 'civilized' lands, a small ferry and docks visible as seemingly the only way to cross. Finally, to your right, a vast amount of water continually pours its way from one Quay to the other, creating a constant spray of mist amongst the rocks and the occasional rainbow if you look just so, forming the very Falls that you've heard of.

Snaking your way down the cliff-face along a heavily travelled path chiselled into the rocks ages ago, you emerge beneath some patches of still remaining trees dwarfing each side of the dirt road. Recalling the stable-master's crude directions, you follow the road a bit to the north before it emerges into an expanse of green meadow and shouting voices. 'Market Green', you recall being mentioned as its name, and it lives up to it as dozens of people are scattered about, engaging in business with each other, or in the case of the few hyperactive children also present, simply enjoying the spring day.

Across the Green, in the southwest corner lies a dishevelled sign sporting a gold coin relief set against a smiling gnome. A larger shack than the buildings around it, its weathered appearance still highlights the fact that it has either seen better days or was simply hastily put together without much care. Leaning against the doorway a large man stares at the people passing in the Green.

Sakutian

Admiring the 'Market Green' and the thriving commerce going on Kell sees the battered sign and works his way through the crowd at a steady pace keeping an eye on anyone who ventures too close as he does so. A few merchants shout at him as he passes trying to sell him their wares, he nods to each and offers an excuse before continuing on his way. Once he reaches the worn down shack aspiring to be a tavern based on the smell of cheap liquor pouring into the air from within it Kell turns his attention the the large man standing near the door.

"Pardon me sir, is this the Lucky Gnome Taphouse?"

Horseshoe

Snarl chewed what (hopefully, Kess might've thought) was a plug of tobacco. After approaching, it was clear that he was a half-orc who simply had enough human features to be mistaken for a human at enough distance. His dark eyes danced over the four people in front of him, and his thoughts raced. There was something odd with this lot.

Human... well fed... smart... bit soft... the hell is he doing here?

Human... posh lad... probably very well and expensively trained with that sword.

Dwarf with a spear... knows how to use it... old time religion type. Hm.

Shifter... spearhunter... forester type... handy in a fight, I'll bet.

After that few seconds, the half-orc spat and spoke his reply, in the thick accent of the Lowtowners, slurred a bit by the facial scar that curled his lips and exposed his sharp yellow teeth.

"Yeah. Ehnt think you want to go in, though. Rough joint. What're you lookin' fer? Collection like you ehnt walk to the Taphouse casual-like."

Sakutian

Realizing what he'd initially mistaken for a human was in fact a half-orc Kell knew he'd best not show his throat, otherwise it might well have a chunk removed before the day was over. "Thank you for your concern, I was told we'd be able to hire a capable guide to the city here."

Horseshoe

A faint grin hit one side of Snarl's mouth.

"I think you found him. Pure-blooded Fallcrest bred and born, me. Watcha lookin' fer?"

Kay

Atherton leans forward, one thumb hooked into his swordbelt, while the other hangs loose at his side. "Someone who knows the city well," he offers, that casual half-smile on his face again. "Any extra skills and talents are a bonus."

The small man straightens up again, and takes a moment to adjust his silver circlet. "Muscle would not hurt, either. After all, five seems to be the magic number for freelance mercenary groups looking to make a little gold in these parts."

Around the same time as the group arrive at the Lucky Gnome Taphouse, a large raven lands amongst the smaller birds atop the establishment's awning, flapping its wings and cawing at the other avians, successfully intimidating them into giving up their roost.

"Careful, Atherton," is Lenoir's warning, hidden in the raucous noises the bird makes. "You know what happened last time you angered a half-orc."

Horseshoe

"Freelance mercenaries looking to make a little gold. Looking for a guide. Hm." asked Snarl, cocking his head to look up at the raven, "No... reckon it's better to make large gold if you're to stick your neck out, pup. And you need someone who knows Fallcrest, knows where the money is, and ehnt have problems with dirtying his hands."

Snarl nodded a few times.

"Aye... that'd be me."

Kay

Atherton clasps Kell's shoulder, and takes a slow, deep breath.

"I like this man. He thinks big - Ambition and confidence go a long way in our line of work." Kess then steps forwards, and offers a hand to the large, burly half-orc. "We were planning on heading to the Halfmoon Trading House, or perhaps the local temples, to see if any caravan guards or pilgrimage escorts were in order. Though I have a feeling that someone such as yourself may know where to find they, ah, large-payoff work that needs you to stick your neck out a little further, yes?"

"Craaawk! Stick your neck out, craaawk!" The rough, squawking voice seems to come from the raven, which now perches atop the Lucky Gnome's sign, flapping its wings proudly.

Atherton glances up at the bird, then back to Snarl, his easy smile turning just a little predatory . "I heard tell of bandits on the road, ambushing merchants and travellers. Perhaps someone in town would like to hire a few strong swordarms to deal with the problem, and pay a pretty penny to those with the skill and courage to do so."

Horseshoe

Snarl nodded Atherton over, finding a tucked away place where he could lean in an alley next to the Taphouse, where his words wouldn't be heard as easily. It struck some that the alley might be somewhat like the half-orc himself... filthy, dangerous, and an odd pulse of the Lowtown. Snarl somehow looked in his element there, reclining against the dirty wooded planks of the Taphouse, spitting tobacco.

"You forgot dignity, lad. Aye, mite surprising hearing that from me. Skill, courage, dignity, and getting paid are all different sorts a' things... tyin' em together's the trick, boyo. And a... what did you call it? 'Strong Sword-Arm'. That's small coin unless you got a fat pig of a patron with more money than sense. You got to put up with a great deal of insult with that type, and you've far too much dignity for that sort of work."

Snarl tugged at his oil-shined leather armer to scratch his flea-bitten chest, exposing the bandolier of daggers that wrapped from shoulder to hip.

"Guards? No, not if you're mercenaries looking for a score, lad. Temples pay shite. Always have. Halfmoon? Damned halflings there'll fleece fences, buyers and sellers alike. Small Coin. You ehnt find large coin the playin' safe. There's a teifling... Naerumar or summat. Not too uptown to talk to the likes of me... Tiefling and all, he was probably a scraper in his youth... and as such I wager he don't care how much blood's on the goods."

Snarl paused and looked toward the uptown area.

"Now... got a feelin' folk like Naerumar like the risky thing... raiding the catacombs under Hightown. There's loot there, aye... but I ehnt heard of any come out of there. If you want to make acquaintace with the big time, your man's up there."

The half-orc pointed to a large, prominent keep on the Hightown.

"Can't say I know anything about the Lord Warden. Fella like me ehnt get within a half mile of the place he changes his guard so often. But you, lad, look the part... and I'd wager you're proper educated with that sword. You could get our lot in there. I can only imagine he pays well... he's got coin locked up in there to spare."

Snarl snorted a bit and spat again.

"That's off the top of me 'ead... haven't had me ear on the street long enough. Lately it's been outside jobs, me. Nentir Inn's good for rumors... and there's a few shady ones in there that might have proper mercenary work. They'd turn me at the door, but if they see my type with your type... one of 'em will put two and two together."

Snarl wrapped his cloak to conceal his weapons again.

"So... they call me Snarl. You wager we can do business, boyo?"

Sakutian

Watching from a distance as Kess and Snarl spoke in the alley Kell did his best to watch for any motion that would betray the half-orc going for a weapon. He knew that the poor reputation of half-orcs was mostly unwarranted but it wouldn't do to have his employer get knifed in an alley while he was nearby.

"Be careful with this one Kell, he has fangs."Nathair resettled herself on his wrist and he felt her fade back into her slumber.

Rius

Rakash listens to Snarl's explanation of some of the many possibilities in Fallcrest with a slight smile on his face. Obviously this fella knows his way around, and he'd be an interesting man in a fight... though somehow I doubt those daggers are his only weapons. All his strength seems wasted on them.

"It's good to know that I won't be bored even though I'm back in the Vale. For my part I'd be interested in... most of that. These catacombs you speak of, are they tombs of the dead or simply old tunnels? I would be hesitant if they're the former, though I imagine it'd be right up Atherton's alley."

Rakash takes a second look at the keep and muses aloud; "Be interesting to see what sort of work the Warden needs done, but something tells me even such as Atherton and Kell might have a tough time just walking up to him and asking for work."

Kay

When Snarl motions towards the alleyway, Atherton glances back to the rest of the party, and nods once before following the half-orc to a more private position. As the rogue speaks, Atherton listens, storing the burly half-breed's information away. In case he needs it later.

"Naerumar, you say? Of Naerumar's Imports, near the East Gate?" The young Swordmage seems to know a little, at least, about the city he's visiting, though it's obvious to him that, well, Snarl knows so much more. "Raiding the catacombs for ancient treasures sounds... rather alluring, if I do say so myself, though I'm surprised the authorities allow it. There must be some surcharge or other on goods retrieved, unless this is on the Tiefling's orders, and not the Lord Warden's. Interesting, especially if they prove to be a site of... historial importance."

The view Snarl gives Atherton of his hidden dagger emporium causes the man to raise an eyebrow, then nod his appreciation. "Perhaps we should speak to this Tiefling, investigate the possibility of employment at the Keep," Here, Rakash's words cause him to pause, thinking the problem through. "If we travel as a group, perhaps I could negotiate an audience and subsequent work, and if both of those prove fruitless, the Nentir Inn sounds like a place of opportunity, indeed." He then offers a hand, though the way he's holding it seems to hint that he's aiming to grasp forearm to forearm, rather than the more genteel handshake Snarl may be expecting.

"Atherton Kess, and as you suspected, educated extensively in esoteric uses of a blade. The robed man is Kell Sumair, our Woodsman goes by Rakash, and the dwarf is Aidan. We have worked together for a short time, and perhaps you could round out our numbers, your knowledge of the town would prove invaluable, and as for your other skills," here, Kess pauses for a moment. "Those are always welcome in our line of work."

Horseshoe

"The regular kind of catacombs... where they bury the dead. Tomb Raiding might get Naerumar's interests... can't say I've heard anyone doing it lately. Could be most ehnt got the sand for it... or maybe they've already been picked clean. Naerumar'd probably know."

Snarl gripped Atherton's forearm. Not an exceptionally strong man... probably more a fencer than a swinger. Good.

"If it's to be a dangerous job, I'm expecting an even take... and a finder's fee if appropriate. Other than that, I'd say we have a deal, Mr. Kess."

Aegis

A few children run by in the main street, obvious to the alleyway and the meeting currently being attended to as the sounds of the Green still suffuse the immediate area.

Lemme know with a !Ready when you folks are set to head off to a lead...and which lead you're headed to, of course.

tzeentchling

Aidan walks up to Snarl and Kess. "You're not a nice man," he says bluntly, pointing at Snarl. "That's ok, but you oughtta be nice to us. If you're mean, I'd get angry. And you wouldn't like me when I'm angry." Looking down and scratching his head, Aidan continues, "You probably wouldn't like her either."

As Snarl's face begins to twist in puzzlement, he feels a light tap on his left shoulder. Turning around, he comes face to face with the grinning, spectral face of Nadia. Faster than most could see, Snarl grabs his dagger and slashes across the spirit's neck. The blade passes through like smoke. Nadia laughs, and begins to fade away until only her harsh chuckle is left.

To Snarl, it sounds like nails down a chalkboard.

Horseshoe

"Nice trick. Look, I'm a Lowtowner. I don't assume anyone is nice. Stop wasting our time and tell me what you want to do."