<Note the dice log, Jeremiah's natural roll of 19 Awesomeness, plus weapon of choice, plus one longsword, plus 3 for style...>

He flourishes his sword dramatically and successfully. Everyone is suitably impressed, a light applause ripples through pleasant company, a hat is passed round by Natasha and a collection of twenty silvers, eight coppers and two gold pieces is returned.

Note that anyone paying particular attention to the display notes that when the sun glints bright and golden from the tip of Jeremiah's sword at the apex of its flight, the *Ting!* is an actual, audible sound, and not imagined, as most people assume. This is a special talent exclusive to Jeremiah on a good roll. Noone knows exactly how or why he does it, but it makes him happy, and it certainly is a cool effect.

Brutus rolls his eyes at the show-off paladin.

"That is gonna be real useful. Better put that away before you hurt someone."

Brutus was sad to see that his father was no longer on the throne, and to be truthful was actually looking forward to leaving.

OOC, What had he heard about his family in his time there, after the mob...?

Joan, had enjoyed the trip both through her old capital and through her old village as well. She had caught up with several ond friends, including the old priest who had sent her to the capital to serve the then king oh so many years ago. Even though that king was no longer king, she had given her oath before Celestia to watch over the Kings son, and her travelling did not make the task burdensome. Indeed, the old cleric who sent her seemed a little jealous of all her travels as they sat regaling late into the one night they spent in that hamlet.

Greyhawk was also a city of great size and considerable power, however, and this new adventure also sated her curiosity.

The journey from Eldredd has been long, made all the longer by your transport barge running aground several miles short of Greyhawk city and forcing you to either walk to find lodgings, or camp for yet another uncomfortable night.

Finally, tired and footsore, you see the end of the road. Flanked by heavily fortified towers embedded in the 30 foot tall granite walls stands Greyhawk city’s Marsh Gate. Twelve feet tall and eight wide they stand open allowing a steady stream of farmers, fishermen and the occasional trader both ways. Seven chainmail clad men armed with either broadswords of clubs search random people as they enter the city, virtually ignoring those leaving.

”What have you to declare?” One asks Jeremiah eyeing off the sword hanging from his belt and expecting an immeidate answer...

Brutus speaks, "I am the son of  <insert name of Father here. What was the kings name?> of Elredd. As my father was deposed unjustly, I seek to right wrongs, and these are my escorts."

He glances at the paladin, and then looks back to the gaurd and adds in a softer tone, almost a mumble. " Though not all of them have learnt thier proper places yet. "

Resuming his previous tone, he adds " Naturally, they carry the tools of thier trade, and our supplies. I also carry small items for self protection. "

He opens his grey robe to reveal a number of daggers in a belt across his chest. It should be noted that not all daggers are clearly visible.

"Yeah, sure you are," comes the rather sarcastic reply, the guardsmans eyes not leaving the man he was talking to.
"And I'm Nerof Gasgal!"

'I am Jeremiah, paladin of Heronius, and these are my companions, Natasha, monk of Heronius, Brutus of the big mouth, whom you now know, and Joan Ofdark, a cleric of Celestia of some renown. We are here on a mission of significance to the greater good. We have to declare numerous arms <displays an impressive array of nasty pointy things>, and would enquire as to the laws in this city pertaining to bearing said tools.'

Brutus calmly produces his old family signet ring. It is no longer an official Elredd item, but it is something he was able to get from one of the few close friends of his family left.

" Here is the evidence I am who I say I am. Petty troops such as yourself may be unlikely to recognize this, but anyone familiar with the last 100 years in Elredd can certify that. " His tone becomes subtly more sarcastic as he continues." Regardless, Nerof, is it of no consequence now anyway. Consider us as travellers if the truth is too complicated for you. "

<This is why I was saying that he wanted to find out what he could about his father, and what was left. He would want evidence of who he was, and also want to know what happened to his father. I assumed that he has found a signet ring or some identifiable family item, as those who deposed of the king would only really want the position, and to get rid of anyone who would challenge them. The items of the previous court would become worthless, and would only be wanted and kept by those who wanted to remember such days.>

"Ok then, that's more like it."
"Each bladed weapon attracts a three gold peice "freesword" tax. You each also need to sign the roster before entering."
The guard pointed towards a very large book atop an equally solid pedestal, a quill and ink pot chained along with the book to prevent theft.
"Are you carrying any precious metals or stones?"

'Naturally we will provide lawful taxes. My associate Brutus here deals with all such matters of mundane calculations and material goods. I fear, though that he may be regretting the possession of all those little daggers of his right now though...' <this last said with a completely straight face>

OOC: DO we have any metal or gems? I'm not sure if I have character sheets with items here... should I be searching my emails or are there new ones?

Brutus removes a belt of daggers, offering them to passerbys for a gp each.

"I am afraid my daggers are not worth that much. I will keep just 2 for self protection, and Joan here has 3 weapons, making it 15 gp in total for the two of us. We do have some cheap gems, though I am not sure they would be called precious.

Joan and Brutus will also sign in once the taxes are taken care of.

OOC: Brutus will keep an extra dagger hidden in each of his boots.

Nat and Jer pay their taxes and sign the book promptly and boringly.

'Anything else or shall we continue then? Nerof Gasgal, was it? Could you direct us to a temple of Heronius and a temple of Celestia?'

OOC: If Greyhawk has a group/castle/order or other organisation of paladins, Jeremiah will be asking directions to their company and asking for lodgings for the group as is due.

'Nerof? Neeerof? Yoohoo? You in there friend? Directions?'

"Heironeous? What you want to go there for? It's clear across the city near the Dukes gate," the guard with the obviously fake name replied after relieving Jeremiah and Natasha of a total of 10gp.
"That'd take you hours to get there."

Further questioning of the clearly uninterested guard(s) reveal that although there are a handful of Paladins in the city, most are not affiliated with either Heironeous or Celestian. Additionally, the current rulership of the city is not noble in nature, but consists of an elected group of between 12 and 18 people (currently 16).

'Alright then, direct us to the nearest den of stinking evil. We will purge the place of its nefarious denizens, enhancing this great city, and make it our own for the duration of our stay.'

The guard is already dealing with the next traveller and so you turn inward to enter the city and seek a bed for the night.

You see a bustling, busy city, shops and homes line the streets, tended by merchants and housewives. Children play and tend to their chores, and animals are led by farmers and butchers. The sounds and smells of dinner being prepared fill the air, enhancing your hunger and weariness.

The first inn you come to lies barely a stone throw from the gate. Even without entering you can see there will be no rest found there - it seems a popular rest stop for farmers and merchants planning for an early start the next day.

The second inn, The Green Watchtower, appears on first inspection to be suitable for your needs. Entering however you're met with a less than welcoming impression...
"No, we're full up tonight. Booked solid for a week to come," is the reply to your query of temporary lodgings.

Enquiries at the third inn, apparently called the Hobbled Goat according to the badly faded sign outside, results in no joy either.
"Sorry, I'm expecting the Kettish trade delegation shortly..."

And then, just as the lanterns are being lit, the road on which you travel branches into a four way crosroads, forming an elongated X. Various shops and stores line these streets, but your attention is drawn to a large well kept inn on one of the triangular parcels formed by the crossroads. A freshly painted sign in the shape of a plump fish bears the name of this odd establishment - The Whistling Fish, Potentiate of Potations.

The inn is built of the half timber construction common to Greyhawk. It's size however makes it unique. From the positions of the windows, the building appears to have two floors, but the structure looks far too tall to be an average two story inn. It's roof, made of wooden shingles towers above the other buildings in the neighbourhood. Even the front door seems unusually tall....

A shaggy lawn surrounds the inn, the grass peculiar to Greyhawk - the blades are a deep green along the edges but dark red down the centre. Natives of the area can tell you that although the colour is unusual, this grass has one distinct advantage - it has a bitter taste that only the hardiest of goats can tolerate. This prevents it from being chewed away to nothing by other animals.

Gravel paths lead to the front door and the adjoining stable. A long hitching rail runs along the front of the building. Although seven horses are tethered here, there is room for at least another dozen animals.
This message was last edited by the GM at 11:45, Fri 05 Feb 2010.

'Seems the occupants may well be quite ponderous in this establishment. Shall we see what beings of stature lie within and finally get some rest? There are things to be done, armour to polish.'

'Yeah let's get in there and hope it isn't booked. Looks like it caters to giants or ogres, so if they don't have room for us I think I'm going to need to do some serious meditation'

We all step inside.

You enter the inn through the ten foot tall door to find a spacious barroom. You feel dwarfed by the large proportions of the entire establishment - the ceilings here are twelve feet high.

The perimeter of the room is divided into small alcoves, each of which has it's own table and benches. The bar forms a three sided rectangle, beginning at the right wall and making two square corners until it eventually ends at the same wall from which it began. A doorway and a window to the kitchen are visible behind the bar.

Round and rectangular tables with stools and chairs fill the rest of the room. To the right of the bar, a wide staircase leads upstairs. Two fireplaces and two round wood-burning stoves are straegically placed to provide heat to the entire room.

Already busy although dinner service hasn't yet started, you are nonetheless greeted on entry by delicious aromas and a cosy (although noisy) atmosphere. Within minutes you're able to find a table and a waitress arrives moments later. Although no beauty, she could not be described as "unpleasant" to look upon.

Towering over the patrons the barman can be seen dispensing drinks to the thirsty. Unless he's standing on a very large crate, he must be at least 9 feet tall, a believe borne out by his massive four foot breadth across massively muscled shoulders.

OOC: Does the bartender look like a known race to us? Ogre, Giant, or just a carbon copy of Ai?

Natasha called for the waiter's attention and ordered - 'Four plates of whatever's good and hearty please miss, surprise us!'

This last was met with blanched expressions on the part of her more well traveled companions, who nonetheless remained silent on the issue.

While meals were being organised, Jeremiah strolled up to the bar and alerted the barman wearily; 'Hello there good sir. How much is a bed in this fine establishment? We need temporary lodgings for four, and please don't say you're booked, or expecting a diplomatic party. We don't want to have to look elsewhere after we've already ordered the evening meal.'

In less time that you had expected, a large platter of mutton slices, roast chicken, a selection of vegetables and steaming fresh bread is deposited upon your table by the efficient watress.
"Will you be wanting any drinks?"

Jeremiah meanwhile moved through the crowd to the bar to speak with the huge man tending it.
"Yes, of course. Standard nightly rate is two orbs for a twin share, three and fifteen nobles for a quad, and five and twelve for our largest six bed room."

"Gruenab," another waitress calls out to the huge man.
"Three ales, two stout and a rusty nail."

Brutus eyed the meal warily. It looked fine, but he was not sure. Joan saw this, and moved forward and said a quick prayer over the meal, almost under her breath...

"For what we are about to consume, may we be completely immune..."

They then began to quietly eat, keeping a close eye on their belongings and the rather bigmouthed paladin.

OOC, what time of day is it? I did not get to post after the gate due to a dying computer, but would we have had a chance to do any shopping first?
This message was last edited by the player at 13:08, Mon 08 Feb 2010.

Jeremiah asked for a quad share to be readied, went back and organised change with Brutus, paid the man in advance and sat down to eat with gusto. Steaming hot bread is always a pleasure, and you don't get much of that on the road.

During the meal, Jeremiah and Natasha made a quick scan of the room, to see if anyone or anything looked out of the ordinary, a tall order indeed (pun intended) with a bartender of such proportions...

After the meal was finished, and if all looked regular, Nat and Jeremiah decided to enquire (probably in vain) as to bathing facilities, then pack it in for the night.