Whispers at the Fire
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_People have been seeing the scruffy redhaired ranger of the Rawlinswood, Clayton Greyfeather… at the creek behind the Grapevine with his hunting knife shaving his stubble off! The strange thing is... he seems to be shaving at night, before going to make camp in the Rawlinswood. Every morning, his red-tinted scruff is back, and stays there all day, only to be shaved again each night.
What?_
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Some say…. that they have seen Locrian without his cape recently.
What in the world?
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Whatever was discussed seems to have lit a fire under Farmer Biswan, as she drops her usual routine in the fields and goes racing around town with a somewhat dazed look on her face, paying calls on the Temple of Chauntea, Regrin Deed at the lumbermill, Vroka, and a good many other people. She even seems to have neglected to bring a book, a first for her.
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The Chancellor can be seen about the Realm with his new Gold Cloaked personal guard, Stubs, travelling from one business to the next.
He's also spent a great deal of time lately with (specifically) Dwarven business owners and kin-residents at extended dinners at the Inn, or long (ale-inspired) meetings within the Great Hall itself.
Amongst those at most of these meetings are Gemli the Merchant, Biswan the Farmer of Old Jiyyd, and several other well-known merchant dwarves from the Dwarven Hold. An unexpected attendee of some of these meetings is also Davos, everyone's favorite guard, though he may be there just for added security.
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After the airship crash, Stubs can be seem with a new fetish attached to his belt, the head of a hell cat. He also can be heard having boasting of having survived three implosion spells (though he wouldn't call them that) and of killing a Bebilith, while completely naked.
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After the flurry expressions of interest by elvish antique hunters, after the gnome's ancient elvish chopper, Perriwig forwards the relevant section of his merchant catalogue to the relevant persons.
((Aka, the PMs will be in the post shortly))
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Many onlookers witnessed a fiery airship zooming past Norwick and coming to rest(with some force) in the remnants of Old Jiyyd. Rumors of a group of adventurers braving the demons and devils to search the wreckage and seek survivors travels throughout. Some say a gnome calling himself Duthos was retrieved from the wreckage, and with it many odd inventions and items. Seems he also seeks to rebuild his airship and will be seeking adventurers to aid in its reconstruction.
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On one chilling ghostly night, from the depths of the horrifying barracks prison echos the terrifying death tune from some unknown and likely insane prisoner
Ol' rat stew, Ol' rat stew
Stings like a bee, smells like a shoe
Hope you like to chew, better cook it through
Pride of the cities, pride of the few
Chewy, chewy, chewy, ol' rat stew.Beggars rejoice, stew in the pot
Run on over, grab some while it's hot
Don't be picky, don't say "icky"
It's hearty and true, ol' rat stew.Some say it's the ghost of the serial killer beggar Ratty "The Rat" Killstone. Others say it's just some idiot.
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_::Rumours begin to grow about a lady rider in crimson and golden armor, with long hair golden as the Sun itself, riding by Norwick's South Gates at Dawnbreak, atop a the mightiest armored dire tiger ever seen.
The rumours say that the lady held a Stormhammer in one hand and a Lathanderite Mirrorshield in the other as her mount strode back from the forests roaring like a a rhino stampede.
It goes further as to mention that the lady and her trusty companion carried the blood and the hoard of the thousand and one bugbears that they had battled night and day.
Soon this duo formed by the mysterious lady and her formidable mount are adressed as The Glorious Tiger Rider. Some rumours even note that there is a tower with the same name near Ormpur, which is where they reside, prepared to strike in the heart of evil when the need arises::_
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FitzSqee of the High Road has struck again, robbing D'Cameron and Rupert in the Norwick Great Hall itself while most of the town's defenders were distracted by a gnoll raid on the northern gates. Rumor has it that they were found naked and locked in the old scout commander's office, and that the Herald is furious.
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((Metagod, it took me HOURS to go through all of that "junk" and to trash hundreds of hides! Don't expect to find any! Also there was a "lightning strike" to the PS database earlier this year that wiped out anything older than a year or so, –so not sure what you'll find in your locker... Good luck!))
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Cyrian looks over the barrow full of mostly junk
Wow did I really own all this stuff? umm. . .I hope theres a locker key in here, I dont want to carry all this around!
opens a box in the barrow that is stacked with hides, then opens another one stacked full of hides..
sigh
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The Chancellor is seen leaving the Great Hall with a large wheelbarrow filled with various clinking and clanking items. He heads past the fire and then northward, where he finds his old friend Cyrian Loreweaver wandering about near the lumberyard.
Cyrian, old lad… or should I say young lad? Hmmm, Cyrian Death-Cheater is perhaps what I'll call you now!
Well, as promised here's the rest of your belongings. Some I gave away as tokens of thanks or rewards to militia folk who had proved 'emselves worthy throughout the years. Your red cloak is in here too… so re-acquaint yourself with the barracks, I'll expect you to be on duty within the ten-day!
Wiping his hands after handing over the wheel barrow, Dwin heads back to the Great Hall.
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_Gina also expresses a curiosity in such a weapon, explaining that she's a weapon collector and would already be glad to learn more of the history of the blade - and if fate favor her, even make a bid on the weapon. But she's quick to point out that likely she cannot compete with the Chancelor in the amount of gold she can offer.
Nonetheless, she expresses a distinct interest in the story, and history of the blade._
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Dwin would also be interested in having both Rary and Yana view the weapon, then outbidding them.. whatever they offer…
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@e2d9b00d36=ArUlric:
An absurdly shiny, armoured gnomish figure clanked a knightly clank around Norwick. Don't get your hopes up too soon, grubby peasants, for 'tis no noble knight, come to deliver ye from your ails and foes. Nay, 'tis but one Perriwig P. Doubleday, Glittergold Knight Burlesque (2nd class). Perriwig gads about town for a while, showing all and sundry an ancient elvish longsword he has acquired from an ancient elven source after a roistering adventure. The gnome is looking for a buyer - whether a military soul looking for an elvish weapon - or an antiquary or a collector who fancies hanging the elegant looking blade over their fire. As yet, he's not tracked down a pointy-eared purchaser.
Yana would be interesting in viewing this weapon as well.
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@fe2537d797=ArUlric:
An absurdly shiny, armoured gnomish figure clanked a knightly clank around Norwick. Don't get your hopes up too soon, grubby peasants, for 'tis no noble knight, come to deliver ye from your ails and foes. Nay, 'tis but one Perriwig P. Doubleday, Glittergold Knight Burlesque (2nd class). Perriwig gads about town for a while, showing all and sundry an ancient elvish longsword he has acquired from an ancient elven source after a roistering adventure. The gnome is looking for a buyer - whether a military soul looking for an elvish weapon - or an antiquary or a collector who fancies hanging the elegant looking blade over their fire. As yet, he's not tracked down a pointy-eared purchaser.
_Aranwe has a long look at the sword and gives a nod then speaks…
Raryldor would probably be interested in this relic. If you are looking for a buyer or a good trade I would track him down. I will be sure to mention this to him when I see him next._
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An absurdly shiny, armoured gnomish figure clanked a knightly clank around Norwick. Don't get your hopes up too soon, grubby peasants, for 'tis no noble knight, come to deliver ye from your ails and foes. Nay, 'tis but one Perriwig P. Doubleday, Glittergold Knight Burlesque (2nd class). Perriwig gads about town for a while, showing all and sundry an ancient elvish longsword he has acquired from an ancient elven source after a roistering adventure. The gnome is looking for a buyer - whether a military soul looking for an elvish weapon - or an antiquary or a collector who fancies hanging the elegant looking blade over their fire. As yet, he's not tracked down a pointy-eared purchaser.
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*An uncharacteristically angry Z storms through town while heading north towards his farm. :x
Tucked under is arm is a large hide with what looks like a "Z" (or maybe it's an "N" :? ) branded on it. :evil:
To the astute observer it appears to be…a cow hide, perhaps?* :pissed:
Grumble, grumble…best milk...mumble, mumble…idiot...grumble, grumble…pay for...mumble, mumble…
:fork:
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In the inn, there is a room.
In the room, there are several passed out forms in various stages of entanglement.
On those people… are carefully placed sheets and blankets, to preserve everyone's modesty, even if they purposely misplaced it, or haven't had it for a while!
On the man's wrist... there's apparently some kind of binding that matches the other end of a piece tied to the bed. It's been cut from the bed, and inside it is tucked a small note. He knows what it says.
