The Unknown: A Game of Fear, Ignorance, and Adventure
- Thread starter Zemalac
- Start date
Recommended Videos
No one's searching Tiber's room. Just figured I'd say for the record.
Oh, and for those who are wondering where I've been this whole time, I'm trying to figure out how to pop Tiber back into the story. He kind of faded away during the battle and now I'm in a difficult position of sorts. I have to incorporate a couple things and the room searching aspect really isn't making it easy.
Actually! I've got it! Someone come and search Tiber's room! Forget what I said earlier, someone come to my room.
Oh, and for those who are wondering where I've been this whole time, I'm trying to figure out how to pop Tiber back into the story. He kind of faded away during the battle and now I'm in a difficult position of sorts. I have to incorporate a couple things and the room searching aspect really isn't making it easy.
Actually! I've got it! Someone come and search Tiber's room! Forget what I said earlier, someone come to my room.
Feel free to just force Mareck to have his room searched. Just yell at him until he gives in. I'm getting bored of waiting this through.
Sorry about this...I meant to wrap up the searches and move on to Tyb yesterday, but unfortunately I wound up with a ton of homework for a creative writing class I'm taking over the summer. I didn't have time to give the plot advancement the time it needed--hell, I barely got on the computer at all.
Fortunately enough, I'm here today, and thus today the plot shall advance.
A word of advice for y'all, though: when things start slowing down and losing interest, I will move on to something more interesting as soon as I am able. If I'd had time yesterday there wouldn't have been any need for the OOC spoilers, since you would have already been in Tyb getting drunk, seeing the sights, and buying indigestion from the vendors on the pier.
Oh, and receiving messages from your factions, fighting off assassins and that sort of thing. You know how it goes.
I'm going to be away this weekend, so we might be in the city for a few days longer than would normally be necessary, depending on how good the internet is and whether my laptop gets fixed in time.
Anyway...back to in-character chatting, eh?
Fortunately enough, I'm here today, and thus today the plot shall advance.
A word of advice for y'all, though: when things start slowing down and losing interest, I will move on to something more interesting as soon as I am able. If I'd had time yesterday there wouldn't have been any need for the OOC spoilers, since you would have already been in Tyb getting drunk, seeing the sights, and buying indigestion from the vendors on the pier.
Oh, and receiving messages from your factions, fighting off assassins and that sort of thing. You know how it goes.
I'm going to be away this weekend, so we might be in the city for a few days longer than would normally be necessary, depending on how good the internet is and whether my laptop gets fixed in time.
Anyway...back to in-character chatting, eh?
"Really?" Deslock raised an eyebrow. "That seems--"
The bolt screamed overhead, splashing down in the river a good fifty yards on the other side of the ship and detonating in a tremendous plume of spray.
"Godsdammit!" Deslock shouted, as Grummond roared out orders to his own ballista crew. On the shore was a flurry of movement, which vanished as soon as it had appeared.
"The hell was that?" the explorer shouted up to the captain.
"This is the Ferios!" Grummond shouted in reply. "As long as we're on this river, the pirates have hidden artillery on shore! Can't do anything about it!"
"Are you fucking kidding me?" Deslock demanded of the sky, as another bolt flew by the prow. "Are you fucking kidding me?!"
The sky, as usual, gave no answer, though the sudden detonation of the Verdan cussors attached to the bolt might have been interpreted as a reply of sorts.
The ship sailed on down the river, seemingly unperturbed by the occasional ballista bolt hurled from the shore. Eventually Deslock stopped swearing enough to refocus on the issue at hand.
"All right, let's sort this out simply," he growled. He pointed at Mark. "You. Come with me for a moment."
The conversation was brief and to the point, and involved much arm waving on the part of Deslock. When it was finished everything seemed to have been sorted out to everyone's satisfaction, though Deslock was still roundly cursing the pirates every time another bolt flew past.
_______________________________________
Several days after the pirate attack, and about a week after leaving Buron, the Cepolada arrived in Tyb. It was a sight that highly relieved everyone on board, truth be told: the sailors, who had become paranoid and jumpy after the murder and the pirates, and the adventurers, who were already suspicious of everyone.
First, the smoke on the horizon: thin white plumes rising from the boiling vats where seafood bubbled and roiled, and the stout pillars from the few factories, and when they got closer the wavering haze from the scented torches and censers of the temples.
Then the sea wall came into sight, and behind it the city laid out in all its splendor.
Tyb is an odd city, to be sure. Many centuries ago, before Old Jack's War, the imperial line of the Zancharian Empire had a palace on the spot where Tyb now stands. Towering and flowing white walls, extensive gardens, and elegant works of art were the order of the day in that ancient palace. The imperial elves stood on white balconies overlooking their slaves, always building and adding new wings, new courtyards and miniature forests and fountains. At the time of Old Jack's War, the structure was a sprawling, miles-across edifice, a symbol of the glory of an empire that had lasted for centuries and surely would last for centuries more.
And then the empire died, suddenly and viciously, by the hand of an insane archmage.
When they heard what Old Jack had done to Zanchar the elves made the mistake of trying to hold on to the palace. Unfortunately for them, the orcs and humans heard what happened as well and realized that the elves wouldn't be getting any more support from an empire that no longer existed, so if they revolted and took the palace for their own no one would be coming from Zanchar to kill them all afterwards...
And then it was just a matter of who got to the armory first.
Deslock knew this history vaguely, as you might remember something learned long ago that you didn't really think was important at the time. He was standing at the prow of the ship, arms clasped behind his back, watching as the city seemed to rise up out of the gleaming white sea wall. First the towers, left over from the palace, shining like stars rising from the water. Then the main city, the streets and curving lanes, built half from scavenged Imperial marble and half from local granite. Last of all appeared the sturdy wooden shacks of the fishermen and the islanders, who would come onto the long beach and throw up a hut above the tide line to live in while they were in the city.
The ship approached the sea wall gate, which had been open for the last fifty years. Tyb was a center of commerce for the islands: closing it off from the sea would have been suicide. Nothing less than a full-scale invasion would close the sea wall of Tyb, though that had happened before.
The explorer watched the city grow before him, and then envelop him with the ivory arms of the sea wall. He sighed and turned away, back to his Expedition assembled on the deck.
"Gentlemen," he said, adding his voice to the shouts of sailors scurrying about the deck and springing from ropes, "welcome to Tyb. In a few minutes we'll be docking, and you will have one day of free time in the city. Use the time however you want, but if you're hungover tomorrow it'll be your problem, not mine." He stopped talking in order to dodge a sailor, and continued. "I have to pay the harbormaster and meet with the people who will be loading the last minute supplies on, and we have to get a replacement for that sailor...what was his name...Feron?" He shrugged. "And I think the University Arcana is sending some scientific-type to join us, and a few other Expedition members will be meeting up with us here as well. But you don't worry about that right now. You can leave your stuff in your cabins--in fact, I would suggest it, unless you feel like spending the coin for an inn. I hear they're expensive in Tyb, so you might not want to do that."
The ship was intensely busy for about five minutes, and then they were securely moored to the dock. The gangplank fell, and the Expedition ventured into the city, where they were immediately greeted by men with charming smiles and goods to sell. The scent of frying seafood fought with the brine and the strange, acid smell of every city--fortunately enough the seafood won out, at least on the pier.
Welcome to Tyb, city of exotic plumage and exotic goods and exotic food.
Metagame said:
Ticky wrinkled his nose as the ship pulled into the harbour. The thick odor of civilization filled the air; he was certain that the scent would permeate his clothing within an hour. The Expedition crowded on deck, hungrily watching shore approaching. Doubtless, many had thoughts of harder drink and fairer company than they were treated to aboard the Cepulada.
Ticky frowned. Disgusting, how these humans and elves couldn't control their desires. Distressing, really. Ticky mused "I'm no Ice Elf, but one must know the proper timing. To submit to one's desires is to invite a swift death." He idly wondered if he could word that into a proverb.
He ran off his to-do list in his mind. "This won't take me more than an hour... this might require a bit of doing... Might want to abandon that one."
'twas to be a long day.
Ticky frowned. Disgusting, how these humans and elves couldn't control their desires. Distressing, really. Ticky mused "I'm no Ice Elf, but one must know the proper timing. To submit to one's desires is to invite a swift death." He idly wondered if he could word that into a proverb.
He ran off his to-do list in his mind. "This won't take me more than an hour... this might require a bit of doing... Might want to abandon that one."
'twas to be a long day.
Reeko stared over the Cepolada's railing at Tyb.
Ah Tyb, it's been awhile hasn't it. I hope you're still like I remember you.
He giggled a little bit to himself, then stopped suddenly. His face adopted a serious tone, "Right. Time to focus. He jogged to his cabin, and returned several seconds later, no longer wearing his vest. Smiling he walked back to the ship's rail. He took a deep breath through his nose. He glanced to his left, then to his right, finally he turned his head towards the sky and shouted, to no one in particular, "If anyone can beat me to the Green Hair Inn, I'll give you thirty gold pieces!"
He paused considering his next move. Another deep breath. Then the jump. Reeko plunged head first into the warm waters surrounding Tyb. He spread his arms forward, pulling himself forward, through the sea.
Yes, I think today might be a good day.
Ah Tyb, it's been awhile hasn't it. I hope you're still like I remember you.
He giggled a little bit to himself, then stopped suddenly. His face adopted a serious tone, "Right. Time to focus. He jogged to his cabin, and returned several seconds later, no longer wearing his vest. Smiling he walked back to the ship's rail. He took a deep breath through his nose. He glanced to his left, then to his right, finally he turned his head towards the sky and shouted, to no one in particular, "If anyone can beat me to the Green Hair Inn, I'll give you thirty gold pieces!"
He paused considering his next move. Another deep breath. Then the jump. Reeko plunged head first into the warm waters surrounding Tyb. He spread his arms forward, pulling himself forward, through the sea.
Yes, I think today might be a good day.
Marneus came up on to the deck, as Reeko swam off.
Tyb, my last stop in the known world for a long time.
With a sigh, he crossed the gangplank and marched past the merchants towards his goal.
I hope this goes better than my last visit...
Tyb, my last stop in the known world for a long time.
With a sigh, he crossed the gangplank and marched past the merchants towards his goal.
I hope this goes better than my last visit...
Reeko brushed himself off as he pulled himself onto dry land, he beat the ship to land. He did a brief stretch before running into the heart of the city. A few moments later he burst through the door of the Green Hair Inn. It was just like he remembered from his last visit; dark, damp, and full of Painted Elves. He walked up to the bar and tapped it with his palm, "Aleek, kizzi ma' tar." The Elf behind the bar nodded, a few moments later he slid Reeko a glass filled with a mysterious purple liquid, Reeko drank it hurriedly. Another Elf slid next to Reeko, "JalBrook, tavish ink me korra, ta' vish?" Reeko smiled and looked at the elf, "Ka tu levo, al vahiru ak tellvier tey yuko dulio." They laughed, and started conversing further in Elfish.
Mareck stepped off the ship and looked at the city of Tyb. He knew the city quite well from the times when he visited it before, as a young land-traveller, yet he still didn't know what he wanted to do here whilst he had the time. He could just easily give in to temptation and find a tavern, but he also had the other explorers to worry about. He needed to think seriously about this; something dwarves very rarely do.
Ugh. I need a drink.
Sighing and with a surrender of will, he started to walk down the small alleys and look for one of the decent taverns in this city of wonders for all it was. It was a few minutes, but he eventually came across a small public house by the name of The Rusty Horseshoe, and decided that it looked like his type of tavern.
He entered and was greeted pleasingly by the strong smell of beer and tobacco that he had pretty much lived in for so long, as well as an atmosphere like the tavern was a paranoid man, continuously afraid of being attacked by others. Needless to say, he was instantly intrigued and felt straight at home.
As he strolled up and jumped onto the bar stool, he immediately asked for something all dwarves were reknowned for asking for, no matter where they were.
He threw his wallet onto the table and called at the barman "Get me the strongest ale you've got, and ask questions later." The barman followed these orders and handed over the glass.
Mareck threw the drink down entirely beforre slamming the glass on the table and asking for another. It was only after the second glass that the barman followed the second part of his orders and asked questions.
"So, what brings you to this part of Tyb then?"
Ugh. I need a drink.
Sighing and with a surrender of will, he started to walk down the small alleys and look for one of the decent taverns in this city of wonders for all it was. It was a few minutes, but he eventually came across a small public house by the name of The Rusty Horseshoe, and decided that it looked like his type of tavern.
He entered and was greeted pleasingly by the strong smell of beer and tobacco that he had pretty much lived in for so long, as well as an atmosphere like the tavern was a paranoid man, continuously afraid of being attacked by others. Needless to say, he was instantly intrigued and felt straight at home.
As he strolled up and jumped onto the bar stool, he immediately asked for something all dwarves were reknowned for asking for, no matter where they were.
He threw his wallet onto the table and called at the barman "Get me the strongest ale you've got, and ask questions later." The barman followed these orders and handed over the glass.
Mareck threw the drink down entirely beforre slamming the glass on the table and asking for another. It was only after the second glass that the barman followed the second part of his orders and asked questions.
"So, what brings you to this part of Tyb then?"
Grummond was arguing with the harbormaster when the gnome found him. The city official was holding out for a larger bribe than usual, because Grummond was bringing a boatload of obviously dangerous adventurers into his city, but Grummond was having none of it. Mostly because Deslock hadn't given him that much to spend on the bribe, and if he had to dip into his own pocket he wouldn't be able to afford drinks later.
He was in the process of glaring the harbormaster down when he was interrupted.
"Excuse me sir, but might you be the renowned adventurer Deslock?" said a voice from behind him. "I noticed you directing the supplies of the ship destined for the unknown continent."
Grummond turned around and came face to face with a mule. He looked at the creature suspiciously for a moment before a cough sounded from lower down. Lowering his gaze he saw a gnome, dressed in clean and sturdy clothes, straining his neck to look up at the orc captain.
"No, sir, I am not the explorer," Grummond said, deciding that politeness was the best way to handle the situation. "I am the captain of the Cepolada. Deslock is still on board the ship at the moment."
The gnome beamed. "Captain Grummond! So good to meet you. I am Doctor Jemalkin Nexaddo, from the University Arcana. My friends call me Jemal, but feel free to give me whatever name you wish. It was nice to meet you, but I must find Deslock as soon as I can to report my addition to the team--good day."
Grummond turned his glare back on the harbormaster, who had been waiting patiently. The captain could have sworn he saw the man wipe a smirk off his face; he redoubled his glare in response.
It wasn't long before the second interruption.
"Captain?" someone said from behind him, and Grummond turned around again. This time he was able to come face-to-face with the human speaker.
"I assume you are Captain Grummond of the Cepolada, yes?" said the man.
"Well done," Grummond muttered. "Yes, I am he. And you are?"
"John J. Piercefield, Captain. I was told I would be joining the Expedition here in Tyb."
Grummond peered at the man suspiciously. Dark clothes, silver-plated pistol, black-hilted dagger made of some metal he didn't recognize. Definitely an adventurer.
"Deslock is on the ship," he growled, and turned back to the harbormaster, who once again wiped away his smirk before the captain could see it.
On the Cepolada, Jemal had found Deslock. The gnome caught the explorer's attention quickly enough, seeing as he was the only other person on deck at the time.
"Mr. Deslock I presume?" he said as the explorer strode over, glaring at this intruder on his ship and his privacy. "My name is Doctor Jemalkin Nexaddo, though you may give me whatever name you see fit. I do not mean to be of an inconvenience, but the University Arcana has taken a great interest in your exploration. Seeing as we are funding must of your expedition and all that." Deslock stopped glaring and tried to assume an expression more suitable for dealing with his financial backers, with only partial success. Jemal went on, oblivious to the explorer's facial contortions. "As more of a last minute addition, the university wants me to partake of the journey. While you are exploring and mapping the continent, my goal is to research and catalogue the species living in the area. Personally, seeing as my addition could come as an inconvenience I would like to give you this as a token of my appreciation."
Deslock made to speak, but the gnome interrupted him with a large bottle of liquor. "I am a man of the University, not of the Wild. So, I may be of little help adventure-wise, but if you believe my skills could be of use simply ask and I will do what I can. Now, if I could have some help moving my equipment to a room and my mule to a stall that would be fantastic. Thank you very much Mr. Deslock, I am looking forward to what we might find."
Deslock stood for a moment, trying to fit the gnome into his mental picture of his Expedition. After a few seconds he gave up and took the proffered bottle.
"Welcome to the Expedition, Doctor Nexaddo," he said. The gnome beamed and vanished to retrieve his mule.
While he was gone, Piercefield arrived. Deslock took one look at him and said, "John Piercefield, right?"
"Er...yes," said the other man. "How did you know?"
"I met your father once," Deslock said. "Long time ago. He's kind of a man who sticks in the memory." He paused, relishing some far-off memory. "Is he still around?"
"He died," Piercefield said. "A long time ago." He looked for a moment older than his years.
Deslock didn't say anything for a moment. Finally he let out a heartfelt "Damn," and tactfully changed the subject.
He was in the process of glaring the harbormaster down when he was interrupted.
"Excuse me sir, but might you be the renowned adventurer Deslock?" said a voice from behind him. "I noticed you directing the supplies of the ship destined for the unknown continent."
Grummond turned around and came face to face with a mule. He looked at the creature suspiciously for a moment before a cough sounded from lower down. Lowering his gaze he saw a gnome, dressed in clean and sturdy clothes, straining his neck to look up at the orc captain.
"No, sir, I am not the explorer," Grummond said, deciding that politeness was the best way to handle the situation. "I am the captain of the Cepolada. Deslock is still on board the ship at the moment."
The gnome beamed. "Captain Grummond! So good to meet you. I am Doctor Jemalkin Nexaddo, from the University Arcana. My friends call me Jemal, but feel free to give me whatever name you wish. It was nice to meet you, but I must find Deslock as soon as I can to report my addition to the team--good day."
Grummond turned his glare back on the harbormaster, who had been waiting patiently. The captain could have sworn he saw the man wipe a smirk off his face; he redoubled his glare in response.
It wasn't long before the second interruption.
"Captain?" someone said from behind him, and Grummond turned around again. This time he was able to come face-to-face with the human speaker.
"I assume you are Captain Grummond of the Cepolada, yes?" said the man.
"Well done," Grummond muttered. "Yes, I am he. And you are?"
"John J. Piercefield, Captain. I was told I would be joining the Expedition here in Tyb."
Grummond peered at the man suspiciously. Dark clothes, silver-plated pistol, black-hilted dagger made of some metal he didn't recognize. Definitely an adventurer.
"Deslock is on the ship," he growled, and turned back to the harbormaster, who once again wiped away his smirk before the captain could see it.
On the Cepolada, Jemal had found Deslock. The gnome caught the explorer's attention quickly enough, seeing as he was the only other person on deck at the time.
"Mr. Deslock I presume?" he said as the explorer strode over, glaring at this intruder on his ship and his privacy. "My name is Doctor Jemalkin Nexaddo, though you may give me whatever name you see fit. I do not mean to be of an inconvenience, but the University Arcana has taken a great interest in your exploration. Seeing as we are funding must of your expedition and all that." Deslock stopped glaring and tried to assume an expression more suitable for dealing with his financial backers, with only partial success. Jemal went on, oblivious to the explorer's facial contortions. "As more of a last minute addition, the university wants me to partake of the journey. While you are exploring and mapping the continent, my goal is to research and catalogue the species living in the area. Personally, seeing as my addition could come as an inconvenience I would like to give you this as a token of my appreciation."
Deslock made to speak, but the gnome interrupted him with a large bottle of liquor. "I am a man of the University, not of the Wild. So, I may be of little help adventure-wise, but if you believe my skills could be of use simply ask and I will do what I can. Now, if I could have some help moving my equipment to a room and my mule to a stall that would be fantastic. Thank you very much Mr. Deslock, I am looking forward to what we might find."
Deslock stood for a moment, trying to fit the gnome into his mental picture of his Expedition. After a few seconds he gave up and took the proffered bottle.
"Welcome to the Expedition, Doctor Nexaddo," he said. The gnome beamed and vanished to retrieve his mule.
While he was gone, Piercefield arrived. Deslock took one look at him and said, "John Piercefield, right?"
"Er...yes," said the other man. "How did you know?"
"I met your father once," Deslock said. "Long time ago. He's kind of a man who sticks in the memory." He paused, relishing some far-off memory. "Is he still around?"
"He died," Piercefield said. "A long time ago." He looked for a moment older than his years.
Deslock didn't say anything for a moment. Finally he let out a heartfelt "Damn," and tactfully changed the subject.
Metagame said:Ladies and gentlemen, give a hearty welcome to John J. Piercefield, a new player for the Expedition. We would have had another player joining us in Tyb as well, but the other one had a last-minute change of plans that led to him having to drop out. Something about a trip to India.
I'm also introducing Doctor Jemalkin Nexaddo from the University at Ver Arcana. One of the goals of the Expedition will be to protect the doctor and any specimens he collects on the Unknown Continent, though you might do that with greater or lesser enthusiasm depending on your own orders and plans.
Most of you will be receiving messages from your factions while in Tyb. I withheld some information during the first round of intel so it wouldn't be obvious what information was about the new player, so don't assume that everything you hear can be applied to Piercefield. Or the Doctor, I suppose.
Also: a map of the Expedition's path thus far. I was going to post this yesterday, but I kind of forgot.
Not a particularly good map, but the laptop that I usually draw with is being fixed at the moment, so I can't make it any better.
This round of intel and secret actions might take a little longer than usual, because I'm leaving early tomorrow morning for a place where I am unsure if I will have the internet and the time required to do anything. I'll be back on Sunday, so stuff will get done then at the very least.
Mareck looked up at the barman, and decided to respond appropriately.
"Stocking up on supplies." The barman turned to the dwarf. He did appear to be interested in what Mareck was saying. He decided to continue. "Me and a crew. We're on an adventure."
The barman raised an eyebrow, and his voice as well. "Oh really? Where, exactly?"
Mareck lifted his head up to the barman. He was a medium-sized human, who appeared to be the type of person stylish enough to have lived in this city of art for a long time. He also looked like the type of person whowouldn't be going on this trip, and not much of a threat as a result.
"The Unknown Continent."
The barman kept conversation whilst serving the other customers. "Really? That's, quite the adventure."
"Yeah. That's why we're stocking up in Tyb for it."
"Hmm. Excited?"
Mareck looked down at his glass, hoping it would fill itself. "Yeah." He answered before handing the glass back to the human to re-fill.
"Stocking up on supplies." The barman turned to the dwarf. He did appear to be interested in what Mareck was saying. He decided to continue. "Me and a crew. We're on an adventure."
The barman raised an eyebrow, and his voice as well. "Oh really? Where, exactly?"
Mareck lifted his head up to the barman. He was a medium-sized human, who appeared to be the type of person stylish enough to have lived in this city of art for a long time. He also looked like the type of person whowouldn't be going on this trip, and not much of a threat as a result.
"The Unknown Continent."
The barman kept conversation whilst serving the other customers. "Really? That's, quite the adventure."
"Yeah. That's why we're stocking up in Tyb for it."
"Hmm. Excited?"
Mareck looked down at his glass, hoping it would fill itself. "Yeah." He answered before handing the glass back to the human to re-fill.
Tomorrow, I'm going on holiday for a week, so I won't be able to post in that time.
Jonas stood on the prow and pondered.
Tyb. The last city he wanted to see again. Beautiful and awesome in an ancient way, but its feet running over with the ugliness of the new and desperate. Desperation was something Jonas could sympathise with. The desperation of Tyb was palpable, a pungent odour in the air that drove under the others - sweat, smoke, the sea and cooking fat - and wedged itself far back in the nose. He glanced at the old elven towers, bleached white in a too-white sun. In the upper quarters would be scented perfumes to occlude the stench, but it would ever be there for him to breathe in.
But perhaps he was romanticising? Tyb was no different to any other city - only a paragon amongst them. At any conglomeration of men will be muck and pure white. Oh for a warm keep to retire.
There were things to do. Jonas knew just what he needed. He would leave this floating respite and join the mud and bone of Tyb. He turned back and descended the gangplank. A viewer who had taken up Jonas' place on the prow would have seen him for a half minute floating through traffic. He would at first be a man full bodied; then a torso and a head; then just a head, bobbing in the crowd; and finally gone.
Tyb. The last city he wanted to see again. Beautiful and awesome in an ancient way, but its feet running over with the ugliness of the new and desperate. Desperation was something Jonas could sympathise with. The desperation of Tyb was palpable, a pungent odour in the air that drove under the others - sweat, smoke, the sea and cooking fat - and wedged itself far back in the nose. He glanced at the old elven towers, bleached white in a too-white sun. In the upper quarters would be scented perfumes to occlude the stench, but it would ever be there for him to breathe in.
But perhaps he was romanticising? Tyb was no different to any other city - only a paragon amongst them. At any conglomeration of men will be muck and pure white. Oh for a warm keep to retire.
There were things to do. Jonas knew just what he needed. He would leave this floating respite and join the mud and bone of Tyb. He turned back and descended the gangplank. A viewer who had taken up Jonas' place on the prow would have seen him for a half minute floating through traffic. He would at first be a man full bodied; then a torso and a head; then just a head, bobbing in the crowd; and finally gone.
Alexis stood on the edge of the pier breathing in the sights and sounds of Tyb. It was chaos, more so for a dwarf. The clatter of human feet was all around him, the sea air tossed his hair about into knots, the smell of sea food and spices assaulted his olfactory senses, vendors and shouts of children deafened his ears.
"What a city!" was all he could manage to mutter.
It took him several hours but he finally managed to find a duel story stone building with a wooden sign that read:
The Squeaky Inn
Alexis pushed the giant door and true to the establishments name the wooden object squeaked on poorly oiled hinges as it swung open.
"Barkeep, a fresh pint!" he called out ignoring the stares of the regular patrons. Alexis was tired, hungry and most of all thirsty. The cramped quarters of the ship and recent events weighed heavily on his mind. He needed to drown his sorrows beforehand.
"What a city!" was all he could manage to mutter.
It took him several hours but he finally managed to find a duel story stone building with a wooden sign that read:
The Squeaky Inn
Alexis pushed the giant door and true to the establishments name the wooden object squeaked on poorly oiled hinges as it swung open.
"Barkeep, a fresh pint!" he called out ignoring the stares of the regular patrons. Alexis was tired, hungry and most of all thirsty. The cramped quarters of the ship and recent events weighed heavily on his mind. He needed to drown his sorrows beforehand.
Jemalkin stepped cautiously through his room, avoiding the cages and animal traps strewn across the floor. He had spent the morning becoming as comfortably situated as one can be to a room the size of a match box, and now he had the rest of the day to enjoy the indulgences of modern civilization for one last time.
From the gangplank Jemal marveled at the energy that flowed across the wharf. Vendors gathered, shouting to passerby's to part with their coin in exchange for foreign treasures. Curiosity overtook the doctor, and he spent a while jumping from one vender to another picking up strange plants or skulls and jotting down notes and a quick sketch in his journal.
He explored the port for hours until dusk fell, when the local fisherman arrived with their catches of the day and an overpowering smell. Trying to escape the smell of fish he headed toward a nearby tavern, which he had heard was the location of the Cepolada's crew, where he hoped he could gain a little insight into the passengers destined for the unknown.
It seemed that every sailor of every ship at the docks was in this one bar. Persistently, Jemal moved from one group of sailors to another, asking each if they currently worked on the Cepolada. Eventually he stumbled upon a disheartened group of sailors drinking in the corner.
"Good evening, gentlemen," he said. "May I ask if you are the crew of the Cepolada?"
From far side of the table a human replied, "Aye, that we are. Though, you have caught us at a bad time. We are sharing a toast to the recent death of a friend."
"I am sorry to hear that," Jemal said, bowing his head. "My name is Doctor Jemalkin Nexaddo, though you can give me whatever name you wish. I am going to be joining you all on the Expedition. If you will let me I will buy you all a round of drinks, and if you are feeling up to it you could tell me what has been happened." Jemal made his way to the bar amid nods and words of assent.
"Bartender, a round of drinks for me and the men at that table."
The response was a grunt and a number. Jemal counted out the contents of his purse and then, looking from the lacking pile of coins to the bartender, said "Guess you should make one of those drinks a water."
The doctor returned to the table trailed by serving girls with drinks. After a few drinks the sailors began to talk, and talk a lot: Jemal spoke with them late into the night. They told him first of the murder of Feron, their fellow sailor and the subject of many a toast over the course of the night. They spoke of the arguements and suspiciouns of the adventurers, the fight with the pirates, the power of the mage, and once again about the murder.
Jemal returned to the ship late, with a few sailors who had no place to stay in the city for the night, and retired quietly to his room, somehow managing to avoid the scattered items covering the floor in the dark.
From the gangplank Jemal marveled at the energy that flowed across the wharf. Vendors gathered, shouting to passerby's to part with their coin in exchange for foreign treasures. Curiosity overtook the doctor, and he spent a while jumping from one vender to another picking up strange plants or skulls and jotting down notes and a quick sketch in his journal.
He explored the port for hours until dusk fell, when the local fisherman arrived with their catches of the day and an overpowering smell. Trying to escape the smell of fish he headed toward a nearby tavern, which he had heard was the location of the Cepolada's crew, where he hoped he could gain a little insight into the passengers destined for the unknown.
It seemed that every sailor of every ship at the docks was in this one bar. Persistently, Jemal moved from one group of sailors to another, asking each if they currently worked on the Cepolada. Eventually he stumbled upon a disheartened group of sailors drinking in the corner.
"Good evening, gentlemen," he said. "May I ask if you are the crew of the Cepolada?"
From far side of the table a human replied, "Aye, that we are. Though, you have caught us at a bad time. We are sharing a toast to the recent death of a friend."
"I am sorry to hear that," Jemal said, bowing his head. "My name is Doctor Jemalkin Nexaddo, though you can give me whatever name you wish. I am going to be joining you all on the Expedition. If you will let me I will buy you all a round of drinks, and if you are feeling up to it you could tell me what has been happened." Jemal made his way to the bar amid nods and words of assent.
"Bartender, a round of drinks for me and the men at that table."
The response was a grunt and a number. Jemal counted out the contents of his purse and then, looking from the lacking pile of coins to the bartender, said "Guess you should make one of those drinks a water."
The doctor returned to the table trailed by serving girls with drinks. After a few drinks the sailors began to talk, and talk a lot: Jemal spoke with them late into the night. They told him first of the murder of Feron, their fellow sailor and the subject of many a toast over the course of the night. They spoke of the arguements and suspiciouns of the adventurers, the fight with the pirates, the power of the mage, and once again about the murder.
Jemal returned to the ship late, with a few sailors who had no place to stay in the city for the night, and retired quietly to his room, somehow managing to avoid the scattered items covering the floor in the dark.
Sorry about being absent from the thread for the better part of the week. I've been running several actions behind the scenes, and between that and my class I've had very little time for anything else.
I'm going to be away, possibly with internet, until Monday afternoon. After that I should have more time and the game will get interesting again.
Thanks for the patience, everyone. In the meantime, please enjoy this account of the good doctor's trip to the city.
I'm going to be away, possibly with internet, until Monday afternoon. After that I should have more time and the game will get interesting again.
Thanks for the patience, everyone. In the meantime, please enjoy this account of the good doctor's trip to the city.
