Spot: 16

As you travel close to Loudwater, Alec, Silifrey, and Oswyyd notice that the road is very well-travelled.  Oswyyd further notices that what is probably a patrol of 4 riders, probably sponsored by Loudwater, are about a quarter mile up the road, riding slowly back toward the small city.

The sun is heading down the horizon, and it will be dark within two hours.  You should get to the city a half hour or so after that.

I gto the impression loudwater was a fairly small Hamlet.  Am I wrong, and if not, is ti regular for communities of such size to sponser armed patrols?

"I visited Loudwater once, but only very briefly... so I didn't get much of a chance to look around. I seem to recall an armed mob then, but it may have just been a spur of the moment thing... Though maybe it was another town? It seems that wherever I go in the Marches I see people taking up arms and organising defenses. Seems like a war is coming."

Alec peered at the riders in the distance. His fellow adventurers had made no issue of his appearance, as if deliberately ignoring it, and for that he was grateful. He felt like he was fitting in. But he really couldn't expect these riders to do the same, especially if they were defenders of their town.

His hands moved slightly, making to raise his cloak over his head to conceal his features. But he stopped. He had nothing to hide. And if he did, it would only go the worse for him. Honesty and openness and cheerful naivety were his survival tactics, and so far they hadn't failed him too often.

But did the others really need the hassle?

Oswydd continues to ride ahead of the group a small way, remaining alert especially now that the sun is setting.

As you travel, you realize the riders are going slower than you are.

Slowing to match their pace, you get the impression they are on a routine patrol and not exactly searching as hard as they could for something, but they are keeping a look out.

It seems that it is not as if they are expecting (or hoping) to find something, but they look any way.

They arrive at the stone wall that surrounds Loudwater and go through a set of large wood and iron doors unimpeded.

The doors close and you can hear the clank of metal and wood, letting you know the gate is closed and secured.

Watchers at the gate's towers will see you soon.

Silifrey nods politely to the guards as she passes them, and studies the town thoroughly as the troupe aproached.  Loudwater must have grown larger tehn she woudl ahve credited in the tiem since she left to psses such formidable defences: although in truth, evne the smallest hamlets had walls and sentries in the SIlver Marches, and things had been getting worse, not better, before she had departed.

In any case, she walked her horse through the gateway witha ll the the dignifty and presence of the noblewoman that she was.

OOC:

Okay, you get to the gates, and then...

A guard calls out "Wait a minnit.  We'll be down.  Stay there."

You see that the guard who called out does not move from his post and another stands in back of him with a crossbow at the ready.

There are several other smaller windows in the tower and it looks like trained bows are pointing out of them.

Soon the gate opens a bit and a stout man in platemail comes out.

He wears the holy symbol of Helm on a thick chain around his neck.

Sorry for the delay, good folk.

Please state your names, home locations, and intentions for coming to Loudwater.

-------------------------------------------

OOC:
To build off Silifrey's post, indeed security has grown tighter since last time she was here.

I don't want to delay things overly much here, but I want to see at least a few PC posts in response to the big man in the gleaming platemail.

Silifrey cocks an eyebrow.  She is unaccustomed to ahving her intentions questioned anywhere, least of all in the land of her birth.  After an instant though, her expression shifts to one of amused resignation.  It is good, she suposses, that the guards are at least attentive.  Ensuring that both the holy symbola around her kneck, and the familly crest on her breast-plate are visible, she answers the man a tone that matches her expression, "Well met, servant of Helm!  I am Lady Silifrey Starfire of SIlverymoon, Paladin of Sune.  My companions and I are on the trail of a missing person whom we believe may have fallen victum to foul-play.  Tell me, have recent months been dangerous for you here?  I do not remember such a strong milia presence in most of the regions?"  By the time she speaks her last, SIlifrey sounds very genuinly concerned for the well-fare of the region.  I should never have left in the first place, but there is no time for self-recrimination now.

Diplomacy: 12 (The dice-bot hates me).
This message was last edited by the player at 07:00, Thu 12 Jan 2006.

OOC: Bit of time travelling here... I'm posting first (well, I was), but Alec would likely speak last.


Alec waited quietly and nervously whilst the others introduced themselves. At last, the big man in the metal turned to face him. Alec smiled in what he hoped was a charming and disarming way, and threw out his hand for shaking.

"Hi! Alec Schmeezle, a minstrel from the village of Duckhaven, north of Silverymoon."

Alec grinned. "I guess that makes me a duck elf, huh?"



OOC: 14:34, Today: Alec Schmeezle rolled 30 using 1d20+11. Diplomacy
OOC: If necessary. -5 if rushed (from Smooth Talk).

===============================

FROM DM:

At the sight of a dark-skinned elf, the man tenses, but as you speak and your humor is evident, he loosens up and even finds himself unable to surpress a laugh.


Well, so long as your companions vouch for you...
This message was last edited by the GM at 05:58, Fri 13 Jan 2006.

Mondar looks at the guard and smiles, even though he's quite aware of the danger they face, standing in front of so many bows. He stops his horse and clumsily tries to get down from it. He starts it without knowing very well how to do it, passing his leg over the horse's head. As he does it, the leg, at the last minute, get's stuck in the horse's head and thus, tricking Mondar's intent to get down of the animal easily. He falls to the ground and stays there for a second or two.

He then gets up with haste, cleaning the dust covering his clothes, spitting a bit of it, and then, finally, addressing to the guard in front of him - Hu...err...Me name's be Mondar Sharpfist. Me come's from Damara, all tha way up from tha Glacier of tha White Worm. Been a Yellow Rose monk ev'ry since me was little. Me bizness's tha same as me companion's, though me seeks ta get rid of all nasty mansters wandering around! - he finishes with a proud slap on his own chest and nicely smiling.

Oswydd shifts in his saddle before responding. "And I am Oswydd the Southlander. I am a guide and guard, aiding those in the fight against evil.  My companions and I seek shelter in your city."  Oswydd looks back over the group briefly before turning his attention to the guards. It is clear he doesn't like talking about himself.

Spydunn stays silent as the group approaches the guards.
He looks on with amusement and a slight smile as Mondar attempts to dismount his horse. Spydunn's smile quickly turns to a grimace as he realizes he too is going to have to get off this blasted beast at one time or another and the outcome will probably be similar to Mondar’s.

OOC:

WTF?!?!

I posted the whole "you enter the city" thread wherein the guard gave you information on the sage, told you where to go, etc.

AND NOW IT IS GONE!!!

I'll get on later to post (gotta get to bed soon), but MAN am I pissed that's missing!

Some other players in other regions I DM said they had posts not appear.

Friday the 13th, indeed!!

The well-armed and well-armored guard listens intently at all you say.  Every now and then as each of you speak he looks at the back of his shield, as if checking for something.

When Alec makes him laugh he seems satisfied and turns, raising his hand so that all the other guards in the towers can see him.

The gates open and he walks you in.

Forgive the questions. but ever since we caught that group of Zhents poisoning the wells, we've had be be more careful than we used to be.

This old man...describe him.  Maybe I was the one that met him at the gate.


One of you describes the missing sage, and the guard nods, continuing to walk you into town, well past the gates and wall.

Aye, I met him.  He seemed a bit distracted.  A fast-talking fellow, very intent to get to the forest.  There was rain that day, though, so he was headed for The Cockatrice to wait it out.  He said he always liked to stay at The Cockatrice when he was in Loudwater.

I asked him when the last time he was here was, and he stammered a bit, then said he couldn't remember.

So if you want, head down to The Cockatrice.  I'm sure someone there saw him.

You can't miss it.  One of the only 3-story buildings in town, and the only one with such bright red shudders and doors!

Sure enough, you can't miss it.  It is near the center of Loudwater.

And seeing as it is almost dark and suppertime, a small crowd has already started to enter the tavern/inn.

---------------------------------

I'll wait to go further in case you want to RP or go elsewhere in Loudwater first.

From what you can tell, most shops are closed this time of day, and it will soon be dark out.

There is a chill in the air and frost will be on the ground come morning.

"Oh? Is everything okay? Is there anything we should keep an eye out for?"


---------------------------------



As the guard walked back to the gates, Alec glanced back, curious to find out what was behind the shield. It was always handy to know what was going on.

13:10, Today: Alec Schmeezle rolled 14 using 1d20. Spot.

===========================

FROM DM:

The guardsman says Well, the wells were set back a'right with the help of some druids and a priest of Lathander. All's fine now, and the Zhents are no longer a threat.  Heh...


The smile on his face gives you the idea the Zhents are dead and that he approves of that.  A lot.

And you see nothing on the back of the shield besides the straps you'd see on the back of any shield of that type.
This message was last edited by the GM at 05:08, Mon 16 Jan 2006.

Spydunn stands before the bright red door of the inn as he peers up to the sign above. "The Cockatrice" He mouths slowly as he sounds out the full word.

Looking back to his companions. "This must be the place. Hopefully we will get some questions answered here. And if not, well at least we can have a drink. I'm parched."

With that Spydunn opens the door to the Inn and heads straight for the bar, an eager look in his eye.

The bar is a noisy place filled with what look like hard-working and hard-partying patrons.

No families can be seen -- mainly single men and women who serve those men either with drink, meals, or...more.

A bard and his percussionist play on a small stage near the door.  The current song is a bawdy one about a priestess of Loviatar and a candlemaker whose wife was jealous and just found out about their affair.

The bartender is a short thin man with stringly blonde hair and a drooping moustache.

He points to some empty stool or the one empty table in the place.

Sit as y'like.  Y'll be served soon.  Oy, Greta!!  Order's a'comin'!

A stout woman with a very tight top and flowing thin skirt swings away from the bar and comes over to you all.

As 'e says, sit'er down wherever an' when ya knows what yas want, I'll serve yas.  Name's Greta.

She does not leave your side, hovering, waiting for your orders.

Osywdd tethers his horse outside and then joins the others as they file into the Cockatrice. His legs are stiff and bowed from so many hours in the saddle. Damned mule! Now I know why I walk everywhere. I think he was trying to kill me if I didn’t know better! Seeing the bustling establishment, the cares of the road seem to melt from his shoulders. He takes a seat at one of the few wide tables not already packed with customers, unabashedly shouting up an order as soon as Greta introduces herself.

”I am for a strong flagon of ale, a crust of bread and a slab of whatever you have on the stove or spit.  Our horses are out front as well, and could use stabling and brushing. There a stableboy here that can see to that?”

Having placed his order, Oswydd does his best to relax and listen to the performers, but it is clear his mind is on something else. A tall, cool flagon of ale! Frothy and refreshing, sweet and deep. By the gods I need a drink to get the taste of the road out of my mouth!"

Spydunn pulls up a chair along with Oswydd at the table. He eyes the serving girl with a smile as she hovers about.

 "Ahh Greta, Girl. The roads been long and the nights been even longer. If ya know what I mean?" He says with a wink, and then carries on with his order. "I would like a nice bottle of wine along with two glasses…and ohh yes… a nice plate of meat and potatoes as well, please." He bows his head briefly as he finishes his order and then leans a bit closer to Greta.

”Say love?He flashes a couple gold coins and puts them in her hand.

”I was wonder’n if you might help me out? Have you seen a fella by the name a Persis run’n round here recently? He’s a might older fella. His families sick look’n for ‘em, was hope’n you’d be of help.”


As he finishes his order he begins to study the room looking for any obvious clues of the missing person, but with out much to go on, he pretty much ends up just glancing about the room.

Diplomacy(untrained); Spydunn Moonsun rolled 15
Spot: Spydunn Moonsun rolled 21


This message was last edited by the player at 00:31, Tue 17 Jan 2006.

Perhaps it was the peaceful journey with people who didn't try to kill him on sight, but Alec completely forgot to be nervous as he entered the Cockatrice. He sat down at the table with the others and studied the menu.

A bard was already playing, so he could relax tonight without being tempted to perform, and the crowd didn't look like the sort that would take appreciate his music. Alec listened keenly to the tune, hoping to pick it up and add it to her repertoire, should the need arise. Not too keenly of course, some bards could a bit annoyed at someone borrowing their material.

"Water and stew, please."

Greta looks at the coins Spydunn placed in her hands and nods at him, something like a smile running across her face.

Thanks for that!  It'll help me get some gifts for my wee one's birthday tomorrow.  He turns three, you know.

Sure, Persis.  The old sage.  He was in...oh, what...maybe 2 weeks ago now?  Never came back to get some of his stuff, so Fergen, the owner, he stored the stuff in the basement.

He said he was goin' off inta the woods.  Hope nothin' happened to the coot.  He was always no problem and a decent tipper.  Cleaned up the table himself, and still left a tip!


She brings your orders and hustles about as she fills the orders of most of the other customers in the inn.

One younger, prettier serving girl, gets less work done, but she seems popular with the more fashionably-dressed and perfumed men in the place.

At one point she must have told the owner Fergen you were asking about Persis the sage, since he comes over to your table about 5 minutes later.

So Greta says you're looking for the sage Persis.  He went missing, didn't he?  I mean, that's about all that I can expect would happen if someone goes off into the High Forest and not come back for his stuff a while later.

I usually don't let folks rifle through the items of another while in storage, but...well...if it might help you find the old fella, well...

He holds a hand out, palm-up, obviously expecting something to be placed in it.

Spydunn grabs the man's open hand and shakes it vigorously. "Spydunn Moonsun, Well met. Glad to hear your willing to help. Let’s go have a look and see what we see, shall we?" Spydunn smiles at the man, knowing that he is awaiting his gold bits, but Spydunn lets him wait, he'll see what the man has before greasing his palm.

Oswydd smiles discretely into his hands as he watches Spydunn ply his trade.  Gods what an idea! Shaking the hand expecting a bribe - too clever for me, I would have paid the man. I wonder how many free meals and warm beds I could have had on my long road here had I wit like that?"

Having finished his meat and stew, Elden slips a silver coin under the plate, so that nobody will steal it, and sits back. At the sight of Spydunn shaking the man's hand, rather than bribing him, he burst into a fit of silent laughter.

This is not how the world works. Surely we will be thrown out, but I must say, it was worth it! Such a sight I have never before seen!

Standing up, he walks over and shakes the man's hand as well, but he sticks a gold piece in his palm before-hand. "Thank you for letting us take this opportunity."

15:50, Today: Elden Tril'Nyaliah rolled 23 using 1d20+9. Sleight of Hand check.
This message was last edited by the player at 08:05, Fri 20 Jan 2006.