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Werix
Sep 13, 2012

#acolyte GM of 2013


Jotunn Heavy-Hand

Jotunn looks out at the expanse below him hand just shakes his head. "Surface livin' make you humans damned messy. When you live underground, you gotta be considerate of the waste you make. This whole city looks like a cesspool."

He nods when the Northman speaks. "Aye, I agree with the docks. The only reason anyone would willingly come here, would be to catch a ship to leave. Best watch the docks to make sure our quarry doesn't rabbit. The sooner we catch him, the sooner we can leave all of this."

Took Int +5 and BS +5 with the advances. With the bottle of good quality liquor, I just need one more BS advance for my career exit to Veteran

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wiegieman
Apr 22, 2010


Royalty is a continuous cutting motion


Henri de Vienne


At the northerner's jibe, Henri simply barks out a laugh and reaches for his wineglass. "Ha! Very well. In the future, I will defer to your expertise on the kidnapping of maidens." After a moment, he adds, "besides, having some along who are not strictly bound by the Code can have its conveniences. You cannot always count on your enemy to be honorable."

----

It was a sorry sight that lay before the pack of them. Mousillon failed to live up to even the worst of its legend. Far from a seething tower of evil, it mostly just... slumped. And stank. Henri tries to make the best of the moment, throwing his hand out in an attempt at a dramatic gesture. "And behold, "great" Mousillon, the city of the peerless knight, once the fairest of all the duchies of Bretonnia. But Mousillon fell to evil and neglect, when good Landuin's absence emboldened the wicked and the twin enemies of age and regret weakened his sword arm. Some say he took all that was good here into himself, and when he died it died with him." Henri sighs, and muses, "When the lords of this place fell from the path of honor it was stained forever, and laid low by royal vengeance. You see the difference between good lord Aucassin's lands and this. What it could be with a firm and just hand!" He sniffs, and adds, "And a river that moved faster than a jog. I don't think our man will be finding a boat any time soon. Few captains, even among the very greedy, will dare the mouth of the Grismerie."

Advanced AG and WP. Just +5 Fel to go and I'm done with Knight Errant!

Sormus
Jul 24, 2007

PREVENT SPACE-AIDS
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Greyleaf

Greyleaf had started quickly going to town on their noble wine rations as soon as the first hint of a whiff of the fair city of Moussillon had made its way to his sensitive elven nostrils.

"I wholly agree with the thing that was suggested." he mumbles at air, eyes glazed over.

Took 2 wounds, now I can become bodyguard and get more attacks"

Tricky
Jun 12, 2007

after a great meal i like to lie on the ground and feel like garbage




Cat Hogberry-Patch

Cat hummed happily as the group continued the trek into the shining gem that was Mousillon. Despite the general stench, squalor, and the fact that the city was offensive to each sense more so than the last, she felt confident that they could find that guy whatever his name was and there probably weren't people trying to fornicate with swamplife and really what more could you ask for in life? A thunderous rumble from the halfling's stomach answered that question. A hearty meal and fine drinks!

Piping up, Cat said, "It sounds like Sir Henries is real sure he ent gonna be makin' a run at the docks, so I'm thinkin' a pubcrawl is gonna be our best bet. 'Sides, I haven't ett anything since..." She looked up at the sun, seeming to divine the time from its position, then said with impossible confidence, "Like an hour ago! Y'know, back when we saw that last pile'a corpses."

Took +5 Toughness and an OR Talent (Very Resilient), putting me two wounds away from finishing Hunter.

John Dyne
Jul 3, 2005

Well, fuck. Seriously?



Within a short amount of time, the band of adventurers find themselves entering the shanty town that has sprung up around the southern gate. Now that they are closer, it is obvious the gate itself is of elven design, and it oddly enough retains its grandeur in spite of the poverty and desolation that has sprung up around it. Many of the hovels are even worse than what the group has seen thus far in Mousillion, and many are made of stretched and tanned hides that are likely human in origin. As the team winds its way through the shanty town towards the gates itself, they find themselves pressed upon by plague scarred beggars, holding their hands out and begging for anything that can be spared, particularly from Henri. A few scarred, muscular men with long, curved knives at their belts size up the horse bound team but the man who appears to be their leader holds them back, shaking his head as he eyes the knight.

As they pass into the city proper, a commotion behind them draws the attention of Cat. A terribly thin man in rags is hauled out of the crumbling tenement he has called home, tied to a convenient post, and whipped mercilessly by a dozen men, women, and children. "You summoned them creeping things! We knows it!" From what can be heard from the crowd, apparently some manner of creature was seen in the vicinity in the previous night, and they believe the man to be the one to blame with his 'evil thoughts.' Once he has been thoroughly scourged, the crowd disperses, leaving the man bleeding and semi-conscious, stepped over by other peasants making about their day.

"Rat bones! Rat bones! Got 'em from me cat bones!" A peddler wanders directly in the path of the horses, holding out a tray of polished rat skulls. Many people stop to pluck the small skulls from the tray, leaving behind copper pieces or shiny black snail shells in exchange for them. Those curious enough to watch see that the peasants immediately return to their homes, placing them in small shrines resembling their homes just at the door of their hovels. There doesn't seem to be any outright rhyme or reason to this.

Soon, after working through the streets, they spy the coming Chapel Quarter, where the massive Grail Chapel dominates the skyline. In spite of the black soot and grime upon it, the chapel looks to be well cared for, at least from this distance. Approaching the bridge, Gunnbjorn spies a man who seems to be running for his very life. An amply proportioned woman is hot on the skinny man's heels, and she cries out, "STOP! THIEF!" The crowd holds no interest in stopping him and, for the most part, simply parts to let him pass. Gunnbjorn, a man of honor, is having none of this and reaches out as the man passes by him, clotheslining the poor peasant hard enough to send him sailing horizontal for a foot or two before he hits the ground. The berserker is on him in moments, hauling the poor man up to present him to his victim. "HE TOOK THE WORMS I HAD IN ME BRAIN! THIIIIIEF!" Before Gunnbjorn can react, the woman has delivered an amazing gut punch to the poor man, and he goes limp in the norseman's hands. The woman gives Gunnbjorn a crooked grin and ambles off. After a moment, the man stirs, and explains he has never met the woman before and has no clue why she started chasing him, of all people.

Across the road, Greyleaf watches as an argument between two commoners suddenly escalates into violence, with one shoving the other down before proceeding to kick the everloving poo poo out of him. "Me wife's hump is more elegantly curved, ya scoundrel! Yer wife may as well be a bloody elf!" A woman nearby titters, and makes a comment to another woman that her husband is so romantic for sticking up for her. Greyleaf deduces the two women are the wives of the fighting commoners, but neither of them has a particularly remarkable hump.

Finally, as they enter the quarter proper, a gaggle of children come running by, playing a complicated game that seems to involve chasing a dog until it bites one of them. Henri watches as a child is bitten, and then proceeds to chase the dog and, in return, bite it back, before the game begins anew. One of the little girls notices Henri watching and runs up, smiling ear to dirt-streaked ear at the knight. "Oi, sir! We's playin' Smell the Gauntlet! Wouldja be kinda enough to join us?" In his youth, Henri had played a game called Smell the Gauntlet, and it is, in fact, a very common and popular game amongst Bretonnian children. It, however, is nothing like whatever these children are playing.

Now in the Chapel Quarter proper, the team finds themselves in a large square in front of the Grail Chapel itself, where relatively clean and properly cowed (in Henri's opinion) peasants go about their day. Most beeline directly for the well set in front of the chapel, which is surrounded by several militia men wielding large pikes; they seem to be keeping order with the peasants who line up to draw their water, and most seem bored enough to simply lean on their weapons. The chapel itself is handsome and lavish, and perhaps a little too ornate to be a truly humble offering to the Lady. Crusted with gargoyles and layered in carved depictions of Gilles' Companions and their twelve battles, the chapel is a wonder compared to the rest of the city. Only the black patina that still remains from the smoke of the siege and the plague-stricken beggars dying on its steps suggest that it belongs here. The chapel bustles with activity, with a queue of thugs, beggars, and more awaiting to enter, all surrounded by gaggles of people drawing water from the well. Henri overhears two commoners discussing payment for the blessing they intend to purchase from the priesthood, and one even mentions having saved up enough to have a sip straight from the chapel's grail.

With all the hustle and bustle around, this might not be a bad place to start asking after LeBeau; the man is an agitator of high renown, and disgruntled commoners are his bread and butter. There might be leads here, even.

mcclay
Jul 8, 2013

Oh dear oh gosh oh darn



Gunnbjorn Magnusson

Gunnbjorn had long given up trying to brush the grime and mud off his armor at this point. Just touching the 'thief' had left mud plastered across his chest. After that little incident with the madwoman he just glared down any peasant trying to come close to him.

"Back home, at least the madmen were kept up in the shaman's tent. This place smells worse than a pit of Nurglings and reeks of more corruption than the Horde did at times."

When they get to the Grail Chapel Gunnbjorn forms a solid wall of ticked off Norscan against anyone who would try and mess with the more squishy members of the party.
"The more silver tongued among us should ask around for the thief while the rest of us protect against the mad here."

((While hes watching Gunnbjorn is gonna take a quick headcount of the crowd and see if he can see anything out of the ordinary. I mean, more out of the ordinary for Mousillion. Using Super Numerate for this))

Tricky
Jun 12, 2007

after a great meal i like to lie on the ground and feel like garbage




Cat Hogberry-Patch

Cat nods, "I ent about to spend all day, I'm practically wastin' away from all the starvin' we're doin', but I bet I can get a word of two outta this lot or my name ent not Cat Hogberry-Patch!" Seeing a likely horrible peasant, she waves, smiling brightly at the horrifying creature, and says, "Ey! You with the dirty shirt and no trousers! You seen a thiefy-badman around here? Calls himself LeBeau, he does!"

Of course, she didn't stop to consider that she was still next to the menacing Norscan. Was it any surprise that the peasant decided that the better part of valor was discretion and a hasty retreat?

Gossip: 1d100 74

Werix
Sep 13, 2012

#acolyte GM of 2013


Jotunn Heavy-Hand

Jotunn tries to look as angry and pissed off as he can while they make their way through the streets. It was mostly easy as the disgusting surroundings did make him pissed off, but he was also doing it so hopefully no one would mess with him. That said, he makes sure to draw his newly filled coin purse closer to himself.

Once they reach the Chapel district, the Dwarf looks around before putting his hands on his hips. "Time to do the worst part of bounty huntin' an' that's finding the damned bounty."

However, Jotunn is just so put off by their surroundings, he can't help but just going up to dirty peasants and angrily shouting, "Do ye know where the thief Lebeau is!" which causes the commoners to flee.

gossip around the chapel TN of 21: 1d100 63

Sormus
Jul 24, 2007

PREVENT SPACE-AIDS
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Greyleaf

Greyleaf was still partially smitten by the masterwork elven gateworks they had passed thru on their way across the town. The faded, yet still glorious, original artwork still partially showing through the possibly centuries of wear, tear and later additions to the artwork.
His personal favorite was the short story crudely engraved to a piece of marble that was laying in a gutter. "Wiltedfrond climbed here, it is very high".
The elf smiled and nodded, it was indeed very high achievement for a city-dwelling elf.

"I am going to look for a tavern, bar, or a pub and bivouac there for the evening. I'm sure there are cups that doth truly runneth over, unlike this one."

Finding an establishment where I feel more welcome and Thieves' tonguing myself a drink and information.

wiegieman
Apr 22, 2010


Royalty is a continuous cutting motion


Henri de Vienne


While Henri had been doing his best to maintain the typical "bored, superior, and unapproachable without risk of bodily harm" posture of a Knight for the duration of their presence in Mousillon, his composure quickly breaks when he overhears the waiting line of indulgencers. As he strides up to the peasants, he bursts out, "You there, say that again! You say you are buying a holy blessing from a chapel of the grail? And that you will be permitted to drink from a representation of the Lady's most holy gift, bearing no oaths or deeds? By the Blood of le Breton, this is infamous!" Apparently forgetting the peasants as quickly as he saw them, he exclaims to the others, "Surely we will find that animal LeBeau in this pit of sin!"

Grey Hunter
Oct 17, 2007

Your friendly croctopus overlord LP'er


Archibald Middlemoot

"Well, this place seems to be fine. Nothing to be worried about here!" He smiles a nervous smile. This was bad. This place is bad.

He puts on a braver smile, and tries to catch the attention of the passing people.

"Good sir! Could you tell me..." He tries, The man cackles and walks on.
"Fair Lady!" He greets a passing hag.
"I Don'y want nothing off you shorty!" The woman spits in his direction.

"Gods dammit! no one in this place even approaches friendly!" He says to the world in general. "I'm a lawyer dammit! Talk to me!" Several people change direction at that outburst and Archibald looks around deflated.

Taking +10 to my willpower. I just need some light Armour and another 100xp to jump to Demagogue.

Gossip - 83..

John Dyne
Jul 3, 2005

Well, fuck. Seriously?



Standing off to the side, Gunnbjorn cranes his neck to scan the crowd; all told, there are about twelve men in leather jackets wielding pikes near and around the well, a line of fourteen peasants heading up to get water in an amazingly orderly fashion, and there are five guards and roughly twenty peasants milling about on the grand steps leading up to the chapel. Off to the side, the Norscan also spies an odd trio, including a robed woman, an obvious dwarf, and what appears to be one of the chapel guards. A woman in the finery of the priesthood emerges from the chapel as Gunnbjorn watches, and the guards give the woman a salute that Gunnbjorn doesn't recognize, but can assume isn't exactly a priestly salute.

The assorted trio of short folk try their hand at plying the crowd for information, but none of the peasants seem too keen on paying them any mind. Archibald is primarily ignored after a glance at his clothing solidifies him as 'someone what got money' in the minds of the peasants, and his proclamation of being an attorney doesn't help matters after the fact; a few peasants nod to one another and murmur about how they should always trust their gut on short folk. Jotunn's gruff demeanor and Cat's bodyguard also dissuade peasants from speaking to them, but the mention of the name LeBeau raises the eyebrows of a few of the guards. Gunnbjorn, still watching the crowd, spies one of the guards sauntering his way up to the chapel itself around the time his little halfling friend and the angry dwarf start shouting the name.

Greyleaf decides he is better suited to working his trade in a tavern, and separates from the others, and not ten steps away finds himself suddenly doused in a foul smelling concoction as a woman in a building above him dumps out a bucket of sewage. She bellows, "LOOK OUT BELOW!" after the fact and tosses the bucket down as well, narrowly missing the elf by a mere foot and a half. As he stands there, dripping, a wizened old man carefully gathers himself from his pallet in the alley and shuffles up to him, taking his hand and pressing a small, hand-carved wooden frog into his hand. "En't much against the ones above, but Those Who Crawl At Night.." He pats the frog to punctuate his sentence and grins dumbly, before shuffling back to his little pallet.

Henri's sudden outburst and the fact that he is obviously and plainly a knight actually kills most of the chatter in the square. A few people continue to squawk until they realize everyone else has gone quiet, and all eyes are on the knight and the peasants he has collared. "Er, no, sir? S'just a rumor, y'see. No righteous daughter o' the lady t'would ever sell no favors ta the sorts of me, yeah?" The man who had only moments before been bragging about buying a sip from the chapel grail is now practically pissing his pants. When Henri bellows LeBeau's name, things somehow get even quieter. Gunnbjorn notes the guard from before is now in a heated conversation with the grail damsel, who is watching Henri with some interest.

All of this commotion, the sudden silence, and the proclamations of finding LeBeau make it very easy for a nearby trio of interested parties to spot their marks and approach them.


Greyleaf gets +30 to gossip tests involving Mousillion peasantry due to being covered in night soil. Orthun, Liliana, and Louis may now join the fun!

mcclay
Jul 8, 2013

Oh dear oh gosh oh darn



Gunnbjorn Magnusson

Gunnbjorn bitterly sighs as the party loudly yells about how much they need to find Le Beau. This was, well, not the worst information gathering attempt he'd seen. He still remembered watching a drunken Khornate berserker and a daemonette try to pry information out of a enchanted suit of armor, but this was still really bad. Thankful, due to standing off to the side, hes able to see the reactions to his companions yelling. The guard and the Grail...Witch? Dame? Whatever. loving Southlander names. The Guard and the Witch seem to at least know something.

He pushes his way through the crowd of peasants and sidles on up to the two conversing figures.
"Ja ja, you are de Grail Lady, ja? Have of heard dat yer da one who gives da blessings? Friend said da blessing lady could help find me friends friend Le Beau" His voice is maximum accent. loving full on Bork Bork Bork I Will Sacrifice You To The Dark Gods. He makes sure he looks as stupid, violent and possibly insane as he can. The spooky bat hilt of the greatsword is poking out over the top of his shoulder.

((Rolling to scare these people into spilling the beans

Scaring lads: 1d100-10 43

well, close, FPing it

Intimidate reroll: 1d100-10 71

gently caress))

mcclay fucked around with this message at May 5, 2018 around 02:40

Successful Businessmanga
Mar 28, 2010




Orthun Caskbringer
Wounds: 12/12 Fortune: 1/1
AP: 1 (All) TB: 4

Orthun interrupts the offhand conversation he's having as a ruckus starts around the church "Looks like our charges are here." Given that the newcomers starting the hullabaloo outside aren't covered in Mousillon's complimentary coating of filth, it's unnessecary for Orthun to actually point them out, but he makes to move toward them. "We'll have to keep talking about this Lady of yours another time Louis."

Orthun lets out an extended sigh as several of the original expedition members begin ineffectually yelling into the crowds, the largest one now just shoving his way toward the temple head. "Looks like being subtle probably isn't on the menu for now, but we'll work with what we have." Orthun gives a curt nod to Louis as he walks toward the group "I figure we could use a hand getting around the city if you've got the time. No offense to your fine city, but this could be a chance to get yourself out of this poo poo hole."

Glancing back at the Norscan forcing his way to the front, Orthun opts to head over towards Cat, the nearest person, and likely least glared at, person. "Given that you're trying to find the same man I am, I expect you're who Adalhard told me to come and help." He holds out a hand to shake "Orthun Caskbringer, delivery man of sorts." With a brief introduction made he turns to watch what Gunnbjorn is up to "Been looking around for places LeBeau could sell what he stole and I've found some promising spots, but I'm interested in seeing what this biggun of yours can shake out of the rafters."

pre:
Name: Othun Caskbringer
Race: Dwarf
Career: Smuggler

Character Profile
Primary   : | WS | BS | S  | T  | AG | INT | WP | FEL|
Starting  : | 47 | 25 | 37 | 43 | 21 |  40 | 25 | 27 |
Talent    : | -- | -- | -- | -- | -- |  -- | -- | -- |
Advances  : | 05 | 05 | -- | -- | 10 |  10 | -- | 10 | 
Taken     : | 05 | 05 | -- | -- | 10 |  10 | -- | 10 |
Current   : | 52 | 30 | 37 | 43 | 31 |  50 | 25 | 37 |

Secondary : | A  | W  | SB | TB | M  | MAG | IP | FP |
Starting  : | 1  | 11 | 3  | 4  | 3  |  -  | 0  | 1  |
Advances  : | -  | 02 | -  | -  | -  |  -  | -  | -  |
Taken     : | -  | 01 | -  | -  | -  |  -  | -  | -  |
Current   : | -  | 12 | 3  | 4  | 3  |  -  | 0  | 1  |

Skills:
Common Knowledge (Dwarfs)
Drive
Evaluate
Haggle 
Perception
Row
Search
Secret Language (Thieves' Tongue)
Secret Signs (Thief)
Speak Language (Khazalid)
Speak Language (Reikspiel)
Swim
Trade (Smith)

Talents:
Dealmaker: +10% to Evaluate and Haggle tests.
Dwarfcraft- +10% to Dwarf trade skills (Smith)
Grudge-born Fury- +5% to WS vs Greenskins
Night Vision- Can see in natural darkness out to 30 yards.
Resistance to Magic- +10% WP to resist magic
Stout-hearted- +10% bonus vs fear/terror/intimidate tests
Sturdy- Ignore heavy/plate movement penalty.

Money:
0 Gold
2 Silver
0 Pennies

Trappings:
Full leather armor
A good craftsmanship spear 
^ Damage: SB Traits: Fast
^ Thrown: SB Range: 8

Common clothing 
Dagger
Backpack [Containing] 
Blanket
Purse holding 2 silver pieces.
Torches [x2]
A wooden tankard
A wooden cutlery set
 
Draft Horse and Cart [Containing]
1 keg of ale
2 weeks rations 
12 days fodder
2 sides of honeyed meat 
Average Lock + Chest  [Containing]
1 bottle of quality wine 
5 bottles of common wine 
35 bottles of mixed spirits 

Career Exits: 
Forger:
Trade Tools (Forger's Kit) 50gc
Writing kit 10gc

Advances:
WS 5% (Free)
BS 5% (Free)
AG 5% (Free)
AG 10% (Free)
Wound 1 (100xp)
Int 10% (200xp)
Fel 10% (200xp)


quote:

I'll update my sheet here and in the google sheet I link at the top of my posts.

47 v TN 50 on Secret Signs (Thief) to locate a fence or two while we waited for the original crew to show up. (Conflated Secret Language and Secret Signs while I was on the bus, but they're the same roll so shrug.)

Orthun has spent his time waiting for the full party to arrive scoping out the local fence scene. I figure they're where to start if we're looking for someone carrying a very expensive diamond circlet.

Successful Businessmanga fucked around with this message at May 16, 2018 around 21:34

Dachshundofdoom
Feb 14, 2013



College Slice


Liliana

Liliana smirks at Orthun. "What was your first clue? The way they keep screaming his name? Let's go befriend our tickets out of this pit." She scans the group and decides the knight looked like the best starting point. If nothing else, most human nobles were marginally less disgusting than the peasants. She steps up to Henri and introduces herself.

"Not to interrupt the well-deserved abuse you're heaping on these awful people, but that dwarf and I have been waiting for you. And so has that temple guardian, I suppose, since we told him he could accompany us. Liliana, apprentice wizard of Ulthuan. Pleased to make your acquaintance, Sir... Henri, I think it was? It's been a while since I spoke with that Duke about you people. Seems he got cold feet about sending such a small group into the province of the damned, decided to send me in to play catch-up."

She glances over towards Gunnbjorn, affecting disinterest. "That bear that walks like a man isn't actually going to lay a hand on her, is he? It's just that I try to anticipate when someone is going to harm a religious figure in the middle of a crowd of dedicated peasants and edgy guards, so as to start running early."

pre:
Name: Liliana
Race: Elf
Career: Apprentice Wizard


Character Profile
Primary   : | WS | BS | S  | T  | AG | INT | WP| FEL|
Starting  : | 33 | 45 | 33 | 31 | 44 | 34 | 35 | 28 |
Advance   : | -- | -- | -- | -- | 05 | 10 | 15 | 05 | 
Taken     : | -- | -- | -- | -- | 05 | 05 | 15 | -- |
Gained    : | -- | -- | -- | 05 | -- | 05 | 05 | -- |
Current   : | 33 | 45 | 33 | 36 | 49 | 44 | 55 | 28 |

Secondary : | A  | W  | SB | TB | M  | MAG | IP | FP |
Starting  : | 1 | 11  | 3  | 3  | 5  | 0   | 0  | 1  |
Advance   : | - | 02  | -  | -  | -  | 1   | -  | -  |
Taken     : | - | 02  | -  | -  | -  | -   | -  | -  |
Current   : | 1 | 13  | 3  | 3  | 5  | 1   | 0  | 1  |

Skills:

Academic Knowledge (Magic)
Channeling
Common Knowledge (Elves)
Magical Sense
Perception
Read/Write
Search
Speak Arcane Language (Magick)
Speak Language (Classical, Eltharin, Reikspiel)

Talents:

Aethyric Attunement
Coolheaded
Excellent Vision
Night Vision
Petty Magic (Arcane)
Savvy
Specialist Weapon Group (Longbow)
Very Resilient

Trappings:

GC Longbow
Quarter Staff
Backpack
Printed Book
Common Clothing
Tattered Cloak
Dagger
Backpack w/ Blanket
Wooden Tankard + Cutlery
Purse (10 gc)

XP + Advances: 500/500

MAG +1 (Free)
+1 Wound (Free)
+1 Wound (Free)
Very Resilient (Free)
WP +5 (100)
WP +5 (100)
WP +5 (100)
Int +5 (100)
Agi +5 (100)

ilootthecorpse
Oct 13, 2010



Louis du Mousillon
Wounds: 14/14 Fortune: 2/2
AP: 1 (Body, Arms, Legs) TB: 3

"Oui, mon ami. If you need a guide, I can do this. Just so long as when we catch this LeBeau you give me a ride out of this--how did you say?--poo poo hole." Being a guard for the Chapel was a decent racket. He got to sleep inside at night and most good Bretonnians, and even the not-so-good ones, generally didn't cause trouble when it came to the House of the Lady. It was hard to turn a blind eye from the blatant corruption of the faith though. He wondered wistfully about what the Grail Chapel must be like in Lyonne.

Louis stepped away from his post to follow along beside Orthun, using the end of his staff to find any particularly fetid mud holes before his boots did, and approached the little Halfling woman, Chat. Bretonnian women, even the peasant, and even here in the cursed duchy, covered their hair in public. Louis couldn't help but stare at the wild thatch of red curls on Cat's head when he came near. He felt almost like he was seeing something he shouldn't, like some peeping Pierre looking through a bedroom window. He was so taken that he almost forgot to introduce himself. "And I am Louis," he added with an embarrassingly stiff bow. "Orthun has asked me to be your guide here in Mousillon." His thick, honking accent left no doubt that he was a local.

Louis looked over at Gunnbjorn and Henri causing a ruckus around the front of the chapel. They certainly didn't lack for enthusiasm, but the boy--and a boy he was, with barely a thin scruff on his cheeks to call his own--had his doubt about their tactics. "If your wild man cannot scare his way in through the front, I can show you the way in through the back. I have been with the Chapel for some time...un, deax...two years almost? They always take in deliveries et throw out the waste in the alley." He punctuated the statement by tipping the head of his staff over his shoulder, indicating the side of the Chapel where his new compatriots and he had been loitering.

Tricky
Jun 12, 2007

after a great meal i like to lie on the ground and feel like garbage




Cat Hogberry-Patch

Cat is a little surprised by the sudden appearance of people in Mousillon who were somewhat cleaner than not, but quickly rallies her trademark charm as she addresses Orthun and Louis, shaking the former's hand with more than enough vigor to reassure him that she was both a halfling and also far too energetic to be a native of the poo poo-infested hellhole they all found themselves in, "Ey you two! I didn't ever hear 'bout anything like this, but 'is large and regal Dukishness does kind of like to hear himself talk and I ent about to say I listened to everything he was spoutin' off about."

She pauses, thankfully, for a deep breath, then launches into another rapid-fire patter of blindingly good cheer. "Yeh, we ain't seein' much luck talking with the folk outtaround these parts. Bjornie can probably rip an arm offa one of them, but I dannae if they're not knowin' or just not tellin'. Probably won't stop 'em from sayin' anything we want after something like that! Yer probably gonna want to check yer thiefy-sneaky friends afore we're all done investimagating this mess." She peers at Louis for a moment, then finishes with, "Yeh said they hadda back way in? I betcha I can nip in there all sneaky-quicklike and find anything they'dve got tucked away."

wiegieman
Apr 22, 2010


Royalty is a continuous cutting motion


Henri de Vienne


Henri's face brightens at the interruption to his thoroughly fulfilled expectations of the peasantry's usual insubordination. "The Duke sent you, you say? Capital! We can use all the help we can get in this hole of a duchy," he say, not bothering to lower his voice, "but you needn't worry about our Norseman. He's one of the sane ones." As Cat begins "planning" her heist of of a beloved religious institution, Henri pinches the bridge of his nose and asks, "May we please refrain from defiling a chapel of the god of my entire nation, no matter how venal or corrupt its standing clergy? Armsman, I can't believe you stand for this practice of... paid indulgence. Next you'll tell me they're letting the peasantry speak the holy word of the Lady."

Werix
Sep 13, 2012

#acolyte GM of 2013


Jotunn Heavy-Hand

While all the peasants stay away from the armored Dwarf shouting about LeBeau, he sees out of his eye three folks approach Henri, one of which is a guard. Initially sensing trouble (since if you're a mercenary every problem looks like a coming fight) Jotunn makes sure his shield is secured to his arm, but keeps his axe at his side, though his hand is on it. He lets Henri deal with the newcomers, and when the Knight doesn't initially attack them, or when they don't initially attack the knight, Jotunn relaxes a bit.

Until the three indicate they were sent by the Duke that originally sent them.

"Just great. More bodies means more people to split the pay, and I was already beginning to fear how the lot of us as is was going to split ruling this Kazad and the surrounding land we were going to get." Jotunn sizes up the newcomers. Another Umgi was what it was. The Elgi couldn't be worse than the one they have. Another Dwarf is interesting. Speaking totally in the Dwarf tongue, Jotunn greets him. "Hello kin! I'm Jotunn, the best warrior this here group has. What's your name and trade?"

Grey Hunter
Oct 17, 2007

Your friendly croctopus overlord LP'er


Archibald Middlemoot

"Look at it this way Jotun, We now have better chances of surviving to worry about splitting the land."
He turns to the new arrivals.

"Welcome, I am Archibald, I am the legal council for this group, and you will find me mostly in the wrong place or hanging out at the back waiting for someone to throw a stone at. The latter never seems to happen. Then again, so far, I have survived unharmed, so there is that to say for prudence!" he looks around at the masses of unwashed. erm. people surrounding him and continues. "That said, I am coming to believe that burning down a chapel in broad daylight is the only way to get anyone to talk to us in this scum hole for a town."

Tricky
Jun 12, 2007

after a great meal i like to lie on the ground and feel like garbage




Cat Hogberry-Patch

Cat blows a raspberry in Henri's direction, matching it with an incredibly rude gesture to non-Mousillon natives, at least that implies intimate relations with frogs and other assorted swamplife. She picked it up from some of the locals during that whole fiasco with the pig. She says, "Oh boo hoo, stuff it up yer shiny arse, Sir Henries. Just cause yer a tallun and I ent doesn't mean I'm gonna steal everything I see." She calls out to Archibald, "Innit a case of, whatcha called it? Defamation of characters?"

Cat crosses her arms, "All I'm thinkin' is that iffen they're the kind of place for sips for pay, they might well have done business with LeBeau."

Successful Businessmanga
Mar 28, 2010




Orthun Caskbringer
Wounds: 12/12 Fortune: 1/1
AP: 1 (All) TB: 4

Orthun is clearly taken aback by Cat's enthusiasm, but his shock quickly gives way to amusement as the halfling just keeps going, bouncing from conversation to conversation.

"Always a pleasure to meet kin on the road." Orthun gives Jotunn a friendly nod, pleased to be speaking Khazalid for what is likely the first time in months "Orthun Caskbringer. Was supposed to be a merchant, but it's turned into me bringing aid supplies to the needy, even when the border patrols don't want those supplies getting there." Orthun gives a little shrug "The humans need the help just staying alive, and hopefully the peasant folk's betters can feel the debt of gratitude. If they come to help when my clan is ready to take back our home from the greenskins, well all the better. We'll see.

Orthun makes his greetings as the rest of the party filters in to watch Gunnbjorn's attempt. "I was telling Cat here that I may know a few spots that LeBeau may have gone to offload his stolen treasure. I'm still eyeing things up, but if the church doesn't give use any answers, we're not quite at a dead end."

ilootthecorpse
Oct 13, 2010



Louis du Mousillon

There was an awful lot of talk about burning down the Chapel, or at least ripping the arms off of its attendants, and Louis was starting to wonder about how wise it had been to offer his services as a guide. He secretly hoped that all the threats of violence were just foreign turns of phrase. He realistically knew that they weren't.

It took a moment for Louis to realize that Henri was speaking to him. He wasn't used to being called by any sort of official title. It was better than peasant or boy though, so he didn't mind, and even managed a polite smile for the knight, to whom he was very nervous to speak. "Oh, eh, oui Monsieur. I don't think it is right either, but..." He looked down at the threadbare peasant's clothes beneath his equally dirty robes. "They do not usually ask for my opinion." He refrained from mentioning that they did ask for the opinions of some peasants. Namely the battle pilgrims who lead fiery sermons whenever they passed through the city.

John Dyne
Jul 3, 2005

Well, fuck. Seriously?



Orthun's search for a fence bears fruit in spite of the poverty of the city and the nation; a fence in the Prosecutor's Hall in the grail quarter, in the very square he stands now, has come into a very, very nice circlet as of recently..

As Gunnbjorn approaches the priestess, several of the guards give each other concerned looks and move to intercept him, though the damsel raises her hand with a wan smile to halt their approach. She listens to the Norscan and after a moment of studying the hems of her sleeves, she gives the berserker her most charming and brilliant smile and lays a gentle hand on his shoulder. When she speaks, it is almost as soft as a whisper.

"Cut the bullshit, northman." Her voice is lightly accented in comparison to the others in the region, and there is a mischievous twinkle in her eye. "I saw you with the halfling, and there's a bloody knight demanding the man's head right in the middle of the square. You think I wouldn't realize you're with them?" She glances down into the square, spotting Louis, and chuckles as she tucks her hands back into her sleeve. "I see our new man has made good with your crew. Good. He.. isn't exactly what we need around here."

"If you're looking for that agitator, I'd check with the Crimson Revolution. They're the loud mouthed, political sort that he would run around with." She smiles as a peasant presses a coin into her palm, speaking a blessing in the Breton tongue before planting a kiss on the man's forehead, pulling back with a look of disgust as he turns to leave. "No one much cares for them around here, considering the city's history, but someone's bound to know where they are." As she looks on towards the crowd, she continues speaking, her voice lower now.

"Your new friends there have been asking around for LeBeau as well, but names don't mean much on strangers. What they have and what they do here, however, is bound to carry. You might want to consider that before shaking apart a poor man simply because a name doesn't ring a bell." She gives Gunnbjorn the side-eye, before gently holding his cheek and making a mark on his forehead with her thumb. "I'm the small bit of holy in this forsaken city, my friend, and you'll need it on your side through all of this. I am Aurore, and should you and your friends need my or my colleague's help, be sure to bring something as payment."

Aurore grins at Gunnbjorn before turning, her robe swishing against the cobblestone as she stalks back into the chapel.

John Dyne fucked around with this message at May 10, 2018 around 22:40

Successful Businessmanga
Mar 28, 2010




Orthun Caskbringer
Wounds: 12/12 Fortune: 1/1
AP: 1 (All) TB: 4

Orthun's attention snaps away from Jotunn, his grip tightening on his spear as he glares off toward his cart. The temple guards had done a decent job of keeping it clear of rascals, but the ruckus currently happening was drawing attention elsewhere and he's unwilling to let it stray too far off. It's a moment's jog to gather his horse's reins and haul it back off to the group.

Another nod of greeting is given once the norscan returns, the dwarf introducing himself again. "I expect you learned something given that little aside with the priestess? Either way I've done some asking around and scouring the alleyways and I've got a lead we can follow up on." Pointing with the butt of his spear, Orthun singles out an odd looking plank on the wall across the street, a simple painted sign that while weathered was still legible, that stated the name of the building. "See the scratches on the inside of the lettering there? This is a business that deals in less than legal goods from time to time, and I've recently learned they came into possession of a fine bit of jewelry not too long ago. From what it sounds like, it's the noble woman Augustine's trinket."

ilootthecorpse
Oct 13, 2010



Louis du Mousillon

Before the knight could launch into any further lectures about the place of the peasantry in society, Louis was stolen away by the sight of the Chapel's very own Grail Damsel apparently blessing Gunnbjorn. The boy stood beside the Northman in abject disbelief, craning his neck to get a better look at where Aurore placed her thumb on his forehead like he might see the spot glowing. Or maybe growing a horn. It was Mousillon after all. "You are so lucky..." he muttered breathlessly.

But, this was no time for dramatics! They had a brigand to find, and it seemed like Orthun had a good lead on how to do it. Louis looked across the Chapel square at the unassuming shop of ill repute and scratched his cheek thoughtfully. "Well, maybe we try to ask nicely first? If that doesn't work Archibald can threaten them with law of the nobility." But then again, this was Mousillon and the laws in the rest of Bretonnia didn't always carry as much weight here. "If that doesn't work..." Louis glanced sidelong at the bat-winged guard rising over the Northman's shoulder and shrugged, "C'est la vive."

Dachshundofdoom
Feb 14, 2013



College Slice


Liliana

"Ah, thieves' dens next to the churches. How very shocking," Liliana mutters in her least shocked voice. "Look, while recovering the circlet would be lovely, I don't know if LeBeau would've left a forwarding address. Perhaps while the more.... criminally inclined of us haggle with them, some of us should go talk to those revolutionaries, or figure out some other means to trace him. For example, someone might have seen his horse. Those aren't exactly common in this place, especially when you don't keep an eye on them."

wiegieman
Apr 22, 2010


Royalty is a continuous cutting motion


Henri de Vienne


Henri stops glowering at the wake of the charlatan who's ensconced herself in the Lady's sacred temple to bark out a laugh at the elf's mention of revolutionaries. "Hah! Let me do the talking with those pathetic rabble rousers. What were they called? Some ridiculous name to puff up their courage in place of the real thing!" The tall knight cracks his neck, shakes out his shield arm, and draws his blade out to rest on his shoulder. "I've yet to meet a peasant in his own excuse for arms that didn't poo poo his trousers at the tread of a knight!" Pausing briefly, he adds "Um. Which way?"

Sormus
Jul 24, 2007

PREVENT SPACE-AIDS
sanitize your lovebot
between users



Greyleaf

The elf was none the wiser about the commotion happening outside, instead he had managed to accost the scruntiest scrunt who ever scrunted and was pressing him,her,it for information about the shady underbelly of this.. shady underbelly of a town.

Gossiping the gently caress out of this bar
Rumouring TN 27 + 30: 1d100 16

John Dyne
Jul 3, 2005

Well, fuck. Seriously?



Greyleaf has been through much throughout this journey, and even his life. Being drenched head to toe in the syrupy after effects of the Mousillon diet is just something to take in stride. The elf closes his eyes and takes a slow, carefully deep breath. He must find peace.

Instead, his hand shoots out, grasping the first throat he finds and hefting the peasant off of his feet and into the side of one of the ramshackle houses surrounding the square. The house shudders, and what little sunlight streaming into the alley glints off of the blade that Greyleaf has drawn and is holding point-first before the peasant's eye.

The man looks unconcerned, his body covered in pox scars and his hair bald in random patches; his jaw hangs at a slant and one eye is an inch higher than the other, and in general the man just looks malformed and hideous. He flinches, however, when the elf starts screaming in his face in an unfamiliar tongue, the language of the Elves; it flows beautifully and is flowery and elegant to the ears, but even though there is a language barrier, the man definitely understands the meaning of the words through tone.

"I DON'T KNOW WHAT YER SAYIN'!" The hand from the peasant's throat retracts and a second knife is drawn, and Greyleaf begins waving them frantically and furiously, raving and ranting in his home tongue about things the peasant can't understand. He presses himself further against the wall, his eyes darting this way and that; he is confused, terrified, and mildly intrigued.

Finally, he realizes the elf is staring at him intently, his chest heaving from his heavy breathing, and both knife points are pressed under his ribcage. The peasant blinks, before laughing, shaking his head. "I don't know what ye want, bruv, but ye PROBABLY want them Crimson Revoltion lads up in the charnel hills. Nothin' but mass graves and dead folks fer miles, but they tend ta take in you forners and troublemakers. Ain't gonna be too long a'fore the undead gets 'em, or some vengeful knight rides through 'em. They's in the corpse house. Can't miss it, only wooden buildin' still standin' out north."

He chuckles, pushing the knives away with his fingertips before turning Greyleaf's hand over and clapping a small handful of polished black snail shells into his hand. "Head on tae the Buggered Pig an' buy yerself the Holy Grail Ale; they say it's made from the piss of the Lady herself, but it'll get ya right, one way or t'other. If'n ye need somethin' tae eat, the butcher what lurks in the docks got hisself some meat in."

With that, the man saunters off, as if being jumped, threatened, and screamed at was part of his daily routine.


You have three leads now.

Circlet: Chapel District, currently with a fence. The duke WOULD like it back, so expect to wheel and deal.
LeBeau: Between Gunn's knowledge and Greyleaf's, you learn where the revolutationaries that he might be buddies with are holed up. The Charnel Hills are full of undead and criminals, so expect a fight.
Horse: There's a butcher in the docks who has fresh meat. Do the math, so expect to, I dunno, yell at a butcher.

Dachshundofdoom
Feb 14, 2013



College Slice


Liliana

Attracted to the screaming in Eltharin, and having stayed for the amusement of watching one of the locals get threatened, Liliana smirks and turns to the others.

"There, see, what did I tell you? They've turned his horse into lunch, and those revolution idiots are living up in the local graveyard, which seems like uncommonly poor decisionmaking even by this place's standards. So why don't those of us with a nose for haggling go pester the fence, and those of us like myself who have frustrations to work out with the locals go visit the Crimson Whatever. I suppose we could send a few people to the butcher, but what would he even know? Either way, I have no patience for talking to these people now that I have meatsh--COMPANIONS, yes, companions."

Her smile swings at sincere and misses badly.

Liliana has no social skills and a whole lot of anger to take out on these filthy peasants. The Crimson Revolution is the only right choice.

Tricky
Jun 12, 2007

after a great meal i like to lie on the ground and feel like garbage




Cat Hogberry-Patch

Cat, before she can unleash a torrent of folksy words, interrupts the proceedings with a growling stomach of uncanny vigor and volume. After the noises subside, she says, "Well, I ent et since last time we et, so I could go for some meats 'n such and talk to the horse-cutter. I ent about to say no to company, but I ent not gonna do it by me lonesome if that's the way the Winds blow."

Successful Businessmanga
Mar 28, 2010




Orthun Caskbringer
Wounds: 12/12 Fortune: 1/1
AP: 1 (All) TB: 4

Orthun nods sagely at Louis "I'm not one to go barging in making demands when simple conversation can get what I want. Theyre dealing in stolen goods, so I expect we should be able to trade a few things in exchange for the circlet. I suspect the Duke isn't expecting us to return with the circlet in hand, so it should hopefully sweeten the rewards."

As people debate where to go, Orthun stands and considers the relative social skills he's seen so far. He wasn't particularly impressed and it was clear these folk needed his particular brand of help. The agitators seemed like a lost cause already, the elgi and noble umgi already clamoring for blood, but maybe the trip to the merchant could be salvaged.

Giving a whistle to catch Cat's attention, Orthun pulls at a cord on his neck, withdrawing a key as he moves to his cart. Speaking in hushed tones he explains himself "This lot hasn't struck me as particularly good at talking with folk, at least not desperate folk like these Mousillonites, so I'm going to give you a leg up." he inserts his key into the chest previously tucked away under a blanket, and on cracking it open reveals a veritable treasure trove of alcohol. "I'd bet good silver that no one in this wreck of a town has had a good drink in a years, so if things start looking like they're falling apart, you just offer up a few of these to help things along." Orthun withdraws a few of the stronger spirits from the chest, passing them along to the halfling to stow away in her bag.

quote:

Orthun is decent in a scrap, so he could go to the agitators, but it feels dumb to not attend the hook that's basically tailored to me . Orthun will go to the Fence lead

Orthun isn't going to leave Horse Crew in a lurch though. He'll give them some social lubricant to hopefully make getting infornation easier.

Horse Crew: +5 bottles of hard liquor.

35 bottles of hard spirits remain!

Werix
Sep 13, 2012

#acolyte GM of 2013


Jotunn Heavy-Hand

Jotunn is glad at the presence of another Dwarf. Wait, another? Jotunn was the only Dwarf among the rag-tag group. There had been another Dwarf at one point, right? When did that Dawi bugger off?

The Dwarf is knocked out of his kin-related musings at comments made by the elf, oh, wait, there are two now, an elf, about working out frustration on the locals. "Aye, ain't had a chance to test out this new klad the other elf looted for me, nor this new az we got from our last distraction," he says, patting the bat-winged axe next to his more common looking one. "So I'm all for murdering some revolutionaries. Though we should go to the local law enforcement and see if there are any bounties on any of them. If we're going to cause a ruckus with them, may as well get paid too!"

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ilootthecorpse
Oct 13, 2010



Louis du Mousillon

The boy didn't much like his odds of sweet-talking the butcher or the fence. After all, it was his distinct talent for whacking rowdy peasants in the shins that had gotten him a job at the Chapel. It only made sense that he take those skills on the road and deal with the revolutionaries out at the barrow hill. Sure, they were probably more like him than not--they were both hoping for a better tomorrow however they could--but Louis was on the side of the nobility, and that made him on the right side of the law. And, as Jotunn's mercenary attitude illustrated, being on the right side of the law often paid in silver and gold. Just not in Mousillon.

"I can lead the way to the police, but eh," he thought about the grimy little building and its cell stuffed with drunks and pig thieves, "I would not expect the king's ransom for our efforts." Still, a couple extra pocket shells was always good to have. Sometimes they even still had the snails in them. Spending money and a snack; what more could you want?

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