Czlaplon Quest

[Tarliman]

Isaac: You get back to the inn without anything major happening. The Floating City has about the same population as Fortetsa Hebo in less than half the space, so it's very crowded. Also, there's a lot more vertical to it - bridges, swing-ropes, ladders, upper stories to buildings. It's louder, with constant shouts of "way ho!" from the canals, barkers and touts extolling the virtues of their wares and their establishments, and people trying to have a conversation shouting to be heard over the din. In the middle of all these t'skrang, in their bright colors and jewelry and general flamboyance, you stick out like a raven in a flock of peacocks. The only person who tries to have anything to do with you is a slightly insane beggar. He's dressed in rags, dirty, smelly, and wild-eyed, and doesn't ask you for coin, but tries to warn you of something. What exactly he's worried about isn't clear, as he's babbling half nonsense. A nearby merchant yells at him for bothering potential customers, and shoves him into the canal.

Torana: The beast-seller digs through more stuff, and finally comes up with a badly stained and greasy-looking parchment, folded over several times. "Ha! Knew it was in there!" He unfolds it to make sure, then offers it to you. "Got it off'n these adepts was comin' back from th'Blood Wood. Needed th'coin for the healer." The letter is in badly written Throalic, a bit smudged, and in poor condition, although whether that's from being shoved into the bag with the animal treats or not is up for debate. There's bloodstains along the left edge, as if whoever wrote the letter had an injury to their left hand. "Last of the troop", the letter says, "what attacked us. Southern border on Monthingale [sic] trying to reach" and a smudge. A few more fragments are visible through the stains and smudges, "Warders", "Path magic not as strong as", and "ripped his throat out", and then the letter concludes "I think this is the bastard that ate my fingers. Do what you like with it." It's signed "Apatillian". The Name is a common one among Elves.

[arcomniflash]

After I get back to the inn I'll do a meditation if it's early enough, if not then I'll just do a karma ritual. It's probably going to be a quiet few days, and I'm none too happy about having to wait here for a further three days when those horrors are on the loose.

[ToranaVameha]

I'm gonna go out on a limb and guess Apatillian was /not/ a Beastmaster. I'm fairly certain that Timothy can read...at least I think I remember him reading at some point. Either way, I'll hold the letter up enough for him to easily see it, too. "What do you think? Still want it?"

[Tarliman]

Isaac: When you get back to the inn, Garsevan waves to you from a table in the common room. He's found a dice game, or started one. In either case, judging by the size of the piles of coin, he's winning. "Got a boat? I'm well on the way to paying our fare!"

Torana: Timothy, after a minute, says, "Let's go look at that gargoyle again."

[arcomniflash]

I'll walk over to the table where the dice game is going on, eyeing the pile of coins. "Looks like you're doing rather well for yourself. Yes...we've found a boat, or rather Mehkitar did. It's going to take us North, and apparently in exchange for a reduced fair we're going to act as some kind of entertainment while on board, telling stories, that sort of thing." I'll shake my head. "Whatever gets us North. We leave in three days."

- Isaac

[ToranaVameha]

"Right. This is mostly up to you, of course...since it's going to be yours. As long as I can afford it, anyway." Once we're back to the gargoyle, I'll look at it more closely and see what sort of condition it's in. "So...what's the history on the gargoyle? How did it end up here?"

[Tarliman]

Isaac: Garsevan gives you a sorrowful look, and lays a hand on your arm. "Lad, you seem to be missing the point here. We get to travel on the cheap, plus we get an opportunity to build our reputation. The more people who believe in you, the closer you're able to hew to your Discipline's path. You should be glad of the opportunity." Then he realizes who he's speaking to. "Or maybe you can just stand there and look fearsome, and let Mekhitar tell your story for you."

Torana: The gargoyle isn't in the best of condition. The beast-seller who's got it up for sale doesn't seem to know quite how to take care of it, and whether to approach it as an animal or a bird or what. A few days of grooming, proper diet, and exercise should take care of most of the problems. "Booty from the Caucaviks," the beast-seller tells you. "Wizard brought it down with a spell, knocked it out and they got a net over it. Rest of the nest was killed in the fight, so they said." Timothy, meanwhile, has been studying the gargoyle. Assuming you've still got your Insect Communication running, he comments, "She's sad, but her spirit's not broken. Lost all her family. Needs a new one."

[arcomniflash]

Isaac adjusts his hat. "I hardly look fearsome. I'm really just interested in doing my job. I won't deny that reputation and the belief of the people are a powerful force, but I just feel like the more we delay, the more people are in danger from what we're hunting. Defeating these things will require research and careful planning, as of yet we barely know what we're up against. That all takes time though, so we need to travel as quickly as possible...that's what I think, anyway." He folds his arms and stares at the table. "In any case, I think I'll go perform my karma ritual...it's been quite a while since I last did it."

- Isaac

[ToranaVameha]

"Hmm, I see," directed at both Timothy and the seller. "Well...She isn't looking very good. It'll take a lot of work to get her healthy again, if it can be done at all. She's lonely, and that'll make it so much harder to get her back on her feet." The more I can make it seem like she's...well, damaged goods, hopefully the better price I can get for her. "She must be causing you a bit of trouble."

[Tarliman]

Isaac: Garsevan laughs. "You have no idea how terrifying you are to the average person. I mean, look at you, all grim and somber, with a magical metal hand, armed and armored. One of the reasons why we adepts don't get asked for our stories or autographs more often is because people are afraid to come up to us on the street. Look at me." He bobs in the air. "No legs, floating in the air, that's more magic than the average person deals with in their entire life in the first bite. And as far as research and planning, that takes time." He grows serious. "You have three days. Put them to use. This is the Floating City. There are libraries, bookshops, bars where people like us gather, merchants whose ship logs may yield valuable information, a wealth of resources for your research spread out all around you. Don't nibble on the little bit you brought with you. Gorge yourself on the feast spread out in front of you. But yes, a karma ritual first is never a bad idea." Then he has to turn his attention back to the dice game, as the other players are growing impatient for a chance to win back their coin.

Torana: "A bit," the beast-seller admits. "Cursed expensive to feed, I can tell you that. And mopey and irritable." He gives Timothy a bit of a sharp look. "But you seem more like the insect type. You wouldn't be a follower of Chorrolis, would you?"