Birthright: Tuornen IC

[ewancummins]

The gangly crossbowman lays his weapon down at his feet. His pockmarked face spilts into an uneasy grimace.

''Ah....ahhh....I'm just hunting. Though he was a deer. Got scared. Yeah."



Cormac and the Hunter both notice the crossbowman wears a brigandine jack and wears a short sword at his belt. His thin legs shake inside his oversized, tall riding boots of fine leather--wet up to the ankles.

[steveflam]

MONEYLENDER'S OFFICE



Atli the Moneylender squints at his guest.


''Devlin?"

His smile grows wider.

‘‘Ha! So my informant told the truth. You have bedded the duke's heir. Congratulations. You must be proud to join the illustrious line of whores, bargirls, chambermaids, and fish-mongers' daughters topped by the boy. Unless you've got a wee bastard of his making in there-"

He leans across his low desk and jabs a thick finger at Dominica’s belly.

" -your romps promise me no profit, nor any for you, I expect. As for the duke's heir, why would he stay here in the shit and rats and fleas? He's probably just done slumming for the nonce. With such a fine home he has, so many lovely golden treasures...

Atli's voice grows husky with lust as he begins to ramble about the duke's wealth.

'' Hmmm....There could be something more. I have heard there was some kind of burglary at Castle Haes, last night. I tell you what, you go and find out exactly what happened and report back to me. If the information is good, I'll forgive your standing debts, much as it pains me to do so. "

The red haired noble eyes Atli with a grin. "You do know I am good for my debts. But I will take you up on your selfless offer, friend dwarf. Have a good day and profit well."

She bows to the dwarf and exits the office then the building. Her destination already in her mind. I bet the weasel will be able to get what I need she thinks to herself. Pace picking up, her trek leads her to another Inn and she enters, nodding at the counter, heading up to another room she has. Inside she changes quickly, donning a more roguish attire. A fine gnomish armor she had to pay dearly for. Cloak, gloves and a short sword at her hip. Flipping her hood up she exits her room, locking it. She exits the Inn and finds herself at the seediest bar around, a popular hangout for merchants, seamen and all around scum of society.

She enters and scans the dimly lit bar room for her friend. He was there, so she headed for his table and without waiting for an invite, sits and beckons the serving wench for an ale. "Ah, Fez, how nice to see you. Been keeping out of trouble, I hope?"

[RocEter]

The gangly crossbowman lays his weapon down at his feet. His pockmarked face spilts into an uneasy grimace.

''Ah....ahhh....I'm just hunting. Though he was a deer. Got scared. Yeah."



Cormac and the Hunter both notice the crossbowman wears a brigandine jack and wears a short sword at his belt. His thin legs shake inside his oversized, tall riding boots of fine leather--wet up to the ankles.

The hunter walks towards the crossbowman. "Don't waste your breath on lies, you have very few left." He says as he strikes the crossbowman in the gut with an open palm. "Now tell me where your boss and the rest of bandit friends are."

[ewancummins]

The Hills

The suspected bandit grunts and dips his head when the Hunter's fist connects with his gut.

"'Off-- whuh..unnhhhh...okay, okay, stop, please..uuuhhnnhh"

Moving fast, he yanks his short sword free...

[ewancummins]

a cheap wine sink

Fez, AKA ' The Weasel" regards the 'lady' with a greasy smile.

"Red, Red it's nice to see you too. No, I'm not in trouble. You know I keep my nose clean."
He kicks out a chair for Dominica.
"'Sit down, let's chat. You got something good for your friend Fez? " His smile gets even greasier, positively dripping.

[Brock Marsh Runoff]

CITY WATCH HQ



Rennalt Ghonallison, the city's newly-minted Captain, had been reviewing notes on one "Greasy Fabian." The word on the streets was that he'd bee a small-time thug who'd somehow fallen into quite a bit of gold recently, and didn't know enough to keep his mouth shut about it. He'd been drawing up the first set of plans meant to bring Greasy to the duke's justice. It would be a quick, fairly clean operation, one that he hoped would establish a much-needed reputation as an effective captain. What's more, with all that gold lying around...

But the elf's grim announcement quickly silenced Renn's planning. He didn't speak at first, instead listening intently to the news of the duke's murder. Renn bridled internally at being made -anybody's- assistant, but he was a stranger in a strange land, with little more than gold holding up his commission to the City Watch. This was no time to kick against the pricks.

"Results are what you shall get, Master Tuare," he said, stumbling for half a heartbeat to pick an appropriate title with which to address Hotspur. "Who in the city would have stood to benefit from the Duke's murder?"

[steveflam]

a cheap wine sink

Fez, AKA ' The Weasel" regards the 'lady' with a greasy smile.

"Red, Red it's nice to see you too. No, I'm not in trouble. You know I keep my nose clean."
He kicks out a chair for Dominica.
"'Sit down, let's chat. You got something good for your friend Fez? " His smile gets even greasier, positively dripping.

"Ever the gentleman, Fez." And then she sits. but by turning the seat around and leaning her arms on the back of it.

"I don't know if I got something good for you, but the young Duke was escorted from his room by the city watch. In a hurry at that. Must be a reason for it. Find out for lil ole me. Plus it will benefit you with some knowledge. Knowledge is power, but you already knew that, didn't you my friend."

[VAN]

The Duke's Palace, kitchens


"Where's Filbert?" The fat Head Cook upends baskets and barrels with broad swipes of his big hands. "Another pie missing' and sure I know he stole it. Come out, fool!"

The kitchen staff shrinks from the Head Cook's fury.
All but one, that is. A carrot-topped scullion boy thrusts both hands high and blurts out- ''I'll find him."
The boy skedaddles before the Head Cook can respond.
….
A little while later on the roof of the stables
Jack sits with Filbert, eating the mincemeat pie.
In between mouthfuls of pie, he tells the Halfling,
“So---mmmmphh—so then I volunteered to find you! Hahaha!”

http://www.google.com/imgres?q=halfling ... x=35&ty=78

Filbert licks his fingers one by one, that pie was indeed delicious the Head Cook has done a great job today. Passing his dagger to Jack to slice another piece of the pie the halfling says:

"You indeed did my friend. But I may say I'm a bit surprised that the Head Cook managed to notice a missing pie with all this fuss going on today. I have seen soldiers come and go from the palace, mumbling and very concerned. Do you know what happened Jack?"

[ewancummins]

On the stable roof, Filbert and Jack

The kitchen boy tells the halfing, "I don't know exactly, but this morning the Head Cook told us that none of the kitchen staff are allowed to enter the Duke's Palace. Said he'd bake us into a big pie if we disobeyed."

Filbert knows the palace/keep pretty well, as his duties often take him there.
Of course, the Duke's Fool is not part of the kitchen crew.

[ewancummins]

CITY WATCH HQ



Rennalt Ghonallison, the city's newly-minted Captain, had been reviewing notes on one "Greasy Fabian." The word on the streets was that he'd bee a small-time thug who'd somehow fallen into quite a bit of gold recently, and didn't know enough to keep his mouth shut about it. He'd been drawing up the first set of plans meant to bring Greasy to the duke's justice. It would be a quick, fairly clean operation, one that he hoped would establish a much-needed reputation as an effective captain. What's more, with all that gold lying around...

But the elf's grim announcement quickly silenced Renn's planning. He didn't speak at first, instead listening intently to the news of the duke's murder. Renn bridled internally at being made -anybody's- assistant, but he was a stranger in a strange land, with little more than gold holding up his commission to the City Watch. This was no time to kick against the pricks.

"Results are what you shall get, Master Tuare," he said, stumbling for half a heartbeat to pick an appropriate title with which to address Hotspur. "Who in the city would have stood to benefit from the Duke's murder?"

Hotspur stands up straight.

"Traitors. I believe that this plot originated across the river, in Lofton. It stinks of Carilon Alam."

The elf's hawk-like face twists with disgust upon mentioning the name of Alamie's duke.

"I am sure that he was behind the murder of my late lord's wife, as well. Another debt to be paid in blood."

Braedonnal turns and walks towards the door. Pausing to look back, he remarks,

"It comes to my mind that are some in this city who who would prefer a wholly mannish lord to a half-elf like our new duke. These men would have Avanil or Boeruine rule this land, and some few may even think of Carilon Alam. Ambitious fools dream of the size and power of a reunited duchy, but forget the oppressions and strife of past times. A hundred years is so long for you mortals, but the War of Brothers was only yesterday for me. I do not forget.”

He leaves the office.

[ewancummins]

a cheap wine sink

Fez, AKA ' The Weasel" regards the 'lady' with a greasy smile.

"Red, Red it's nice to see you too. No, I'm not in trouble. You know I keep my nose clean."
He kicks out a chair for Dominica.
"'Sit down, let's chat. You got something good for your friend Fez? " His smile gets even greasier, positively dripping.

"Ever the gentleman, Fez." And then she sits. but by turning the seat around and leaning her arms on the back of it.

"I don't know if I got something good for you, but the young Duke was escorted from his room by the city watch. In a hurry at that. Must be a reason for it. Find out for lil ole me. Plus it will benefit you with some knowledge. Knowledge is power, but you already knew that, didn't you my friend."

The Weasel drops his obsequious grin.

"I know that somebody is moving a lot of weapons into Riverside. Maybe the City Watch was worried about a riot, and wanted the duke's son clear of the place? It's possible, right?"

[steveflam]

a cheap wine sink

Fez, AKA ' The Weasel" regards the 'lady' with a greasy smile.

"Red, Red it's nice to see you too. No, I'm not in trouble. You know I keep my nose clean."
He kicks out a chair for Dominica.
"'Sit down, let's chat. You got something good for your friend Fez? " His smile gets even greasier, positively dripping.

"Ever the gentleman, Fez." And then she sits. but by turning the seat around and leaning her arms on the back of it.

"I don't know if I got something good for you, but the young Duke was escorted from his room by the city watch. In a hurry at that. Must be a reason for it. Find out for lil ole me. Plus it will benefit you with some knowledge. Knowledge is power, but you already knew that, didn't you my friend."

The Weasel drops his obsequious grin.

"I know that somebody is moving a lot of weapons into Riverside. Maybe the City Watch was worried about a riot, and wanted the duke's son clear of the place? It's possible, right?"

Dominica frowns a little, thinking. "I am not so sure about that," but keeps that little tidbit which could come in useful. "I think it has to do with something else, although your bit of information is very interesting indeed. Find out for me the reason, Fez. A nice prize awaits you if the information is useful. You know I honor my debts, so get to it. Maybe something happened at the castle."

She purses her lips, sipping her ale. "Tell me more about this smuggling of weapons. What do you know?" She discreetly slides him a few coins.

[ewancummins]

Domenica and Fez, in the tavern



''Well, it's more than just clubs and knives. Somebody is bringing in iron-shod staves, crossbows, bundles of bolts, boarspears, stuff like that. Coming down the river and being moved ashore by night. Gut-ripper knows. ''

[ewancummins]

The Hills of Elevesnemiere

The Hunter strikes a swift, powerful blow with his sword. The bandit's armor saves his life, but he is knocked out and most likely, badly injured.

[Adam]

Cormac shifts his aim to the newcomer, the bandit now on the ground.

"Not sure that was entirely necessary," he mumbles. "Can I trust you long enough to put this bow down and see to that man? I'd rather take him in alive to prison than leave him hear for crows."