Gierdon had been 'summoned' to Glantri City from his village life as a mason because there was a new effort to repair some of the damaged buildings. After getting to the city, however, he found the bureaucracy didn't seem to know what to do with all the masons they'd brought to the city. So, while they figured out how to get the masons to work in shifts, Gierdon was at loose ends.

Oddly, though, he was getting paid... to do nothing. At the moment, he was just going through the market square looking at the wide assortment of wares. With so many Dwarven masons in town, there were quite a few 'farm stands' that served Dwarven ale.


Rodrigo was in the market square, trying to decide if the latest fashion trend in Glantri City was something he wanted to invest in. Black was the new purple (last year's fashion color), a wide brim hat was popular, and sequins and rhinestones styled the black trousers, vests, and hats.

There were so many offerings that he was starting to get eyestrain looking at them all.

At the moment, he was looking over a few baldrics, in particular a black leather one with silver stitching.

Rodrigo had to fight to keep the smile from his face, adopting an expression of supercilious superiority as he surveyed the cutting edge of fashion laid out before him. In truth though, he was delighted.

'What would make the biggest splash at the grand ball, I wonder?' he thought to himself, feeling the weave on a silk shirt. “The spiders have been kept working overtime, I suspect,” he said as he imagined the yards and yards of fabric just in this one area alone.

It was a trial to abandon his tall boots and pipestem trousers for the wide, flaring trouser legs just coming into fashion, but he mustn't fall behind! It certainly wouldn't do for a de Çamora to be seen in last season's garb!

He mulled over the offerings as he strolled, noting the sequins. 'That's new,' he marked. 'Traditional hats are back, but sequins?' He frowned slightly, unsure as to whether the extra touch was a trifle déclassé.

Resolving to give the matter more thought, he decided to seek out a café
for one of those hot drinks from Caurenze. 'I do like that little frisson one feels while drinking it,' he thought eagerly.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:02, Wed 08 Jan 2014.

Gierdon, initially excited about the opportunity to work with fellow dwarves, was somewhat disappointed to find that he wasn't really needed. As he ventured into the market, he enjoyed the sights and sounds and hoped maybe find something worth buying. As he roamed around, he came upon some stands tended by dwarves and approached the first looking over the various barrels, kegs, and flasks.

"Good afternoon, what have you got here?" he said to the dwarf across behind the stand. He inhaled deeply, drawing in the strong scents coming from the various containers.

Striding along briskly, sword at his side, Rodrigo spotted more of those interminable dwarves standing about. 'Just what has happened to our fair country?' he wondered. 'Dwarves in the street, instead of in the laboratory where they belong!' He decided to have some fun.

Stopping beside a dwarf fresh from the mountains, Rodrigo tapped one elegant boot-toe upon the pavement. "Excuse-moi," he said smoothly. "I couldn't help but notice that you were about to make an inquiry of this merchant. I do hope that, before you initiate a transaction, you have a current license? It certainly wouldn't do to get in trouble with the authorities, now would it?"

He stepped back a half-step and idly flicked a speck of imaginary dust from his shoulder.

As Gierdon was partaking in the aromas, he heard someone approach. As the stranger addressed him, Geirdon was slightly confused by his statement. "License? License for what? I was summoned here for mason work. I don't have any sort of license." he replied to the elf.

Delighted, Rodrigo smiles brightly. “Oh yes, we here in Glantri City certainly do have a great deal of rules and regulations! But fear not, my good fellow. As it happens, I would be happy to sponsor you. But in return, I have a favor to ask. My name, by the way, is Edward.”

Here the elf leans in and lowers his voice to share a confidence. “You see, I study at the Great School of Magic, and I've just been researching a spell. I think I've got all the kinks worked out, and with it I've been able to put some of the other students to sleep. But,” and here he looks worried, “They're quite a competitive bunch, and for all I know, they may have been 'faking it.' Then, when it's my turn to present my spell to my professor, it would fail spectacularly!” He shudders at the thought.

“Now here is where you could return my favor. Could I test my spell on you? You have no reason to pretend to be enspelled, so if you fall asleep then I'll know it works!” The elf blinks innocently.

“Would you be willing to help me?” he asks hopefully.

Gierdon eyed the elf suspiciously at hearing this. "So you want to put me to sleep in the middle of the market? Why not adorn me with meat and tell me to go pet the bears? Any thieves," eyeing Rodrigo as he emphasized the word, "will be just as vicious with my belongings. I'll have no part of your magic and if I require a license, I will go and acquire it on my own. I'm not as daft as you seemingly take me to be. I will now take my leave and wish you luck with your test." he replied to Rodrigo's request. He felt he was going to have to keep a wary eye out since his first encounter with those in Glantri City was with an elf trying to fool him.

Gierdon turned back to the dwarven stall keeper he previously addressed and gave him a nod as he began to walk away.

As the dwarf turns and walks away, Rodrigo sighs. Heading towards the cafe, he remarks to no one at all, “What an unpleasant fellow.”

"Are you sure you wouldn't like a mug of Beastie Beer?" the Dwarven stall vendor asked Gierdon as the Dwarf started to walk away.

Beastie Beer was a quality Dwarven stout ale with reputed 'hair-growing' properties.

"Don't let the Elf get to you. Ain't none of 'em worth a plug!"


Rodrigo enters the cafe... or tries to. His way is blocked by two burly... customers.

"Dis ain't a place what wants your kind in here," the red-haired one on the left grumbles at Rodrigo.

"Yeah, go suck an egg!" the other one with black hair and a single eyebrow says.

Rodrigo is shocked at the stooges' attitude. Prudently, he takes a few steps back, and prepares to cast a spell. “Pardonnez-moi, are you referring to me?! I am a de Çamora of Belcadiz, and a member of the Great School. This is a public establishment, and I go where I please! Now, stand aside, ruffians, before I call the constables!”

Changing his course back to the stall, Gierdon took in another whiff of the stout. "I would like to try some. I've ne'er had dwarven beer before but what about the license?" he replied, casting a look of contempt in the direction the elf went. He looked back at the vendor with apparent want showing in his dark brown eyes.

"The elf was just prankin' you," the merchant said to Gierdon. "You don't need any license to talk to anyone or to buy anything. Besides, if the government brought you here, that covers any license you're likely to need."

"Lotsa folks swear Beastie Beer is the best Dwarven ale ever made, and I can't say as I disagrees with them. They also claim in puts hair on your chest... and face. Don't know about that part, though."



"This ain't a public establishment today, Faerie," snarls the taller red-haired thug to Rodrigo.

"Yeah, it's a private club today, and it don't want no Elves in it!" the other one adds.

"I hope all elves aren't like him," Gierdon said nodding his head back in the elf's direction. He looked over the various kegs and tankards considering, "I think I would like to try some. And why not start with the best?" he gave the merchant dwarf a smile become eager for his first taste of dwarven ale.

Rodrigo appears to relax somewhat at the additional information from the two thugs. He begins to walk away, however still keeping his eyes on the men. “Ah, a private party today? Well, I wouldn't take offense to that. But I do wonder if Por el sol y las lunas, las mareas y las estrellas, las paredes de sueño se reducen, con ustedes tras las rejas!”

That would be a Sleep spell. He's Chaotic, and he can't let an insult pass. ;)

"Told you he was another Elven skudge!" red-haired snarled as Rodrigo cast a spell at the other one.

The spell doesn't seem to have any affect.

"This is Glantri City, skudge!" the other one says. "You think we ain't seen magic before? Ya gotta do better than that!"

"Let's teach him a lesson!"

The two move forward after Rodrigo.


Gierdon is handed his ale, takes a swig, and his eyes widen in surprise at both the bite and the smoothness as well as the flavor. He can easily see now why humans often have trouble drinking Dwarven ale.

It's amazingly refreshing, and he figures three mugs of it would be enough to get him drunk, at least until he got used to it.

He notices the Elf getting into trouble with a few other people, though he can hear the loud voices of the... thugs? Bullies? He's not quite sure what function those two serve.


Anneth Mage-Singer found herself in the great city of Glantri City, wandering the streets through the Market Square. She was mildly surprised not to find any fortune-tellers, though she suspected it was mostly done through magic spells. Still, there should be someone telling fortunes!

She'd just passed a Dwarven ale seller with what appeared to be a satisfied Dwarven customer, when she heard the loud voices. Glancing in that direction, she saw too ruffians moving towards an Elf. She didn't need her cards to predict that Elf's immediate future.

Eyes widening, Rodrigo can't believe what's happening. There was no defense against his spell; none. If the ruffians had a device that could cancel out magic, then it certainly would be illegal for a Mundaner to own one! He can't imagine what a threat that would be to a mageocracy, but the thought of the potential reward for uncovering one was dizzying! In any case, they were already guilty of insulting an Arcaner, and looking at torture as a result. Eyes scanning the marketplace for the constables of Glantri City, Rodrigo prepared to call to them for help as he drew his rapier.

Gierdon takes a long drought of the ale, some dribbling down his beard. Setting the tankard down, he hears some commotion behind him and turns. Seeing the elf with two large brutes, he takes interest. Noticing the thugs begin to approach the elf in a menacing manner, he realized that they don't seem to have noble intentions in mind. Reaching into his pocket he pulled some money out and paid for the ale. "That blasted elf," he grumbled under his breath and rushed over to thugs.

Gierdon stops between the bullies and the elf to try to block their path. "You guys don't want to do this. I'm sure the elf here said something dumb but you have to forgive him. He's not exactly the brightest though he thinks he may be. So what say we just each walk away and forget all that happened, eh?"