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Terrignis Mare

Eastern Capital City: Slalo

This message was last edited by the player at 17:04, Mon 21 Dec 2015.

    The Sun set behind the Vulnarian mountains as a small skiff sailed into port. The trip was long, picking up the select individuals. All given an curious letter of invitation to the Island of Terrignis Mare, more specifically, the capital city of Slalo. The letter was the same to each of those aboard, minus the captain of course...

quote:

Whispers of your name have reached my ears.
The King of Slalo, Lord Terrian the Second extends his hand to you, stranger.
You are not the first, you are not special. Many invitations have seen sent out, but so far none have been a correct match; he hopes you shall be different.
I am Evergard, the acting hand of the King as his father has recently passed. You are Invited on a trip to The Long Isle to partake in a test of sorts.
There is reason to believe your bloodline may trace back to that of Salutem royalty.
This may be a surprise, im sure, but we wish to collect all the final ties of the ancient bloodlines and bring them home.
Your presence upon the vessel would be greatly appreciated.
Though this may come as a surprise to you, the process is quite simple:
We have in our courts those gifted with incredible intelligence, and latent magical
abilities. We simply need some blood, and a name. We will take it from there.
While you are here, some time will need to pass while we trace bloodlines, we hope you understand. you will be given a royal crest. Simply show this to any place for food or shelter and they will be forced to oblige.

Regards stranger,
-Grand Advisor, Evergard Upton.

  The letter was sealed with a curious signet and wax, but was no doubt the signet of royalty of Slalo. The cold, salty splashes were beginning to pull on the last nerve of its passengers who over their time on the boat, had become slightly acquainted, for better or worse. Bright lights in the middle of the city closed in. "That be th' Batanguinis" the captian said pointing with frail fingers. The Goblin captain rarely spoke, but was the only man with a ship crazy enough to pick up strangers who caught the Kings attention. "Make slaves er all sorts of folk fight in there. Big attraction. Ye aughta check it out. But from the outside." He added with a chuckle.

  The sun had set and the city was illuminated with torches, the Batanguinis it seemed was a beacon, seeming to almost illuminate the whole city by itself. With a few unsatisfactory creaks, the ship docked and dropped its plank on the dock. The small, surprisingly agile goblin darted along the ropes landing near the plank with a piece of paper on a board. "Last stop ye miserable wretches" He held out the piece of paper with writing utensil. "Sign off th' name. If Ya dont, they'll assume ya died on my boat. Bad for business." He jutted it toward them agian. "Name sign, then get off. Lucky you, man who sent letter is at the big death pit, by enterance. Dont make him wait. You'll look like assholes."

As instructed when they first boarded, there would be a man waiting for them near this "Batanguinis" to give them more information. Once they signed the plank, they were the shipwrites burden no more and were stuck on Terrignis until the archivists finished their research.

Character name and brief visual bio, along with any dialogue you choose. Keep in mind, movement is based on your post, unless you say you're going somewhere, you'll stand on the dock, like an asshole.

This message was last edited by the player at 20:44, Wed 23 Dec 2015.

With a crude and dirtied hand, the ragged stocky man signed his name on the plank in scrawling handwriting: Fletch all though this was not his birthname, it had been more true to him in the past few years than any other title the biting mercenary had carried. Now apparently he carried a new title. A royal one at that. The half shaven Archer almost scoffed thinking on it. He, a creature of noble blood? Bah. The Archer was barely worth the single gold coin he carried in his pocket. The letter reeked of a trick but that royal crest had been a pretty little gift. He walked off the stinking docks heading for the great batanguins eyes open for the man described in the odd letter. The longsword on his hip bounced cleanly and softly with each step. The weapon was new. Along with the longbow at his back. The last job had brought him a strong sum of coin. It had been spent well. Who thought hat slaying a poacher would have been so profitable? Fletch smiled remembering the shot worth 50 gold. Now he was here, far away from the bloodgangs and forgotten names. He liked it that way. A change of pace and a ticket to a new land were more than the archer could ask for. But still, this letter felt too good to be true. The tiny hand of suspicion raked at the back of his mind, but the archers curiosity was too hungry to not be satiated. Besides, what did he have to lose?

The next to step up was, by contrast, a very clean and refined man. It seemed as though every step he took towards the captain was planned before he took the first. Each foot was placed with great thought. The man moved with swiftness one might not expect in such weighted armor. He was in front of the captain, but instead of taking his pen he pulled one out of his pouch.

Mitsu Hattori

Written in the same precision as his steps, clearly practiced and perfected over many many years. He took a step back and put his left hand on the hilt of his katana. It had a dragon carved into the end of it and the rest of the dragon carved down the sheath of the sword.
He simply bowed to the goblin and began walking down the dock. He was far from the northern isle of Cliffshore. Perhaps it was fitting that he might find fulfillment so far from home where he never quite felt whole.

He looked over to Fletch as they were walking down the dock, "I saw you go by Fletch, I am Mitsu Hattori. You seem like you could fair well in combat. What do you say, want to see what we can gather about this Evergard before going to meet him?" {Gather Information}

{21:33, Today: Secret Roll: Mitsu Hattori rolled 6 using 1d20+2.  Gather information (Terrignis).}
This message was last edited by the player at 15:48, Thu 24 Dec 2015.

In reply to Mitsu Hattori (msg # 4):

Fletch stared at the strangely dressed man. Seemed a bit stiff, but he kept his trap shut in that sense. Usually did him more good to be quiet. "You got a letter then too, huh? Guess these royal folks couldn't keep it in their pants. Seems weird though, don't it? The whole thing? I'd say we can ask, with these fancy types we're probably expected soon." Fletch glanced around the city. It wasn't like any place he'd set foot before, but again, that curiosity peaked. Something new. Something different. He decided to follow suit with the swordsman, who seemed rather welcoming.

13:51, Today: Fletch rolled 19 using 1d20-1 ((20)).

This message was deleted by the player at 20:04, Thu 24 Dec 2015.

Fletch expected at least a smirk from his, "Royal folks couldnt keep it in their pants" comment, but Mitsu kept his demeanor, not even a blink from the perhaps overly disciplined man. Feltch let it roll off and not bother him though, "That seems to be the case," Mitsu added surprisingly, "However, let us learn as much as we can about this 'Evergard' fellow, perhaps others like us are here." At the end of his statement, he spun on his heel and walked straight for the closest cluster of people he could find, leaving fletch without even a chance to respond. "No yeah, you go that way ill head over here." He said with a painfully cocky tone, pointing off in the opposite direction. Noticing a group of men unloading crates from a ship not far from them, and decided to head toward them, looking over his shoulder to make sure and not lose the, in fletch's words, "stick-up-his-ass samurai". Now out of eachothers hearing range, they talked to the locals, to figure out at least a little bit about what was going on...

[Private to Mitsu Hattori: Mitsu walked toward a tavern just as the owner must have finished lighting the torches on the outside of the building. A group of drunks sat on a table outside, laughing loudly. As he approached them, one of the men leaned back, eyes wide open. "Holy shit, an ethnic fellah." The men stopped with their laughter as Mitsu stopped a safe distance away, institutionally through teaching out of arms reach. Voices carry further than blades. On of the drunkards leaned a bit closer, "DO YOU SPEAK COMMON TONGUE SIR." he said, painfully making each word as clear as possible, assuming Mitsu couldnt understand him... as if speaking loudly would help... "Yes I speak the same language, and more sirs, I have a question-" he was cut off again by the last first fellow who burst out in a excited laugh, "Ayyyy he speaks! what can I do for ya, ya big ol fucker?" The samuari began to feel irratation, but with a few deep breaths removed it from his body. "Evergard, what do you know of him and this search for royal blood." The second drunk sat laughter fading he took another drink, "Everguard is basically the king round here, the king he aided before died not long ago, and the REAL king is a little kid, doesnt do shit. Still in mourning or whatever. Baby." He took another sip. "Ay, dead dads are tough to get over asshole" the second man said with a sharp elbow. "But I have no idea about this royal blood shit fighter, best ask the 'Pig God' yourself." He said with a deep laugh and the two men turned their backs to the samuari, leaving him with more questions. It seems however the drunkards werent the best choice for information...]

[Private to Fletch: Had to make your text red so you could see it in a private text:
 Fletch walked a short pace down the pier. "Hey, pardon" he said to the workers unloading large crates from a ship.  Oh how he wondered what was in them... His thoughts were interrupted by a deep voice of one of the large workers. Exceedingly musclular and bald, with sleeve armed tattoos, "Oi, lil' guy. Go away. This isnt a place for a man of your... stature" The men laughed at fletch, not much smaller, but small enough for a bully to pick on. Fletch laughed as well, "Lil guy..." he said amid his chuckle, "Thats one of the terms I didnt hear from your mother the other night, you chrome domed fuck." The silence was deafening. All laughter ceased and they all stared at eachother, fletch it seemed was the only one still smiling... Until with a burst of energy...

Laughter. All of the working men burst out into laughter and punched the shoulder of the man at whom fletch took a jab at. Another one of the workers spoke though the tears of laughter "Oh you clever stranger, I like you ya cheeky bastard. Do you need something?" He asked, wiping off his hands, it seems he won his favor with a risky retort. Giving the man with a brused ego a wink, he turned to the friendly worker. "Just got to port, some fellah named 'Evergard' requested us. Royal blood or some shit. Know anything about this?" the worker tossed the now dirty rag onto a distant crate and placed his hands on his hips "Yeah... Everguard is the Kings advisor. Not long ago, our King died one night, leaving his fourteen year old son, his only heir to take the throne. Being a child of his age, he knows little about running an empire such as this, so Evergard seems to have stolen his voice, almost like a puppeteer. Big fat bastard, some call him the 'Pig God', though not to his face. Dont ever say that near a guard, you'll be killed on the spot. As far as the blood thing goes, yeah; Ive seen many people like you get off small boats like that. Dont come back, so their either further inland or got on Evergards bad side. Either way, they need to check you lineage to see if you match blood of royalty. Long ass time ago there was a civil war or something, lots of royals ran, fled to differnt isles. IF they tracked you down, its a good chance you could have some gold in your veins, kid. You go to the arena in the middle of town, thats where all the 'letter kids' go, and then speak with some big-wig. You may get a chance to meet Evergard yourself. Do yourself a favor though, stay on Evergard and the laws good side... they deal with their version of the law... Harshly to say the least" The group small talked for a moment and after a short time, fletch turned with a wave, two out of the three waved back.]

The two men met together almost in the exact same place they parted to share what they had learned, as they waited for the remaining people on the ship to get off so they could go learn more from its source...
This message was last edited by the player at 20:07, Thu 24 Dec 2015.

Mitsu returned to the spot where he parted ways from Fletch. He arrived a bit early after only finding townsfolk who were quite inebriated. He simply placed himself on the ground and meditated, although some who passed by may have mistaken Mitsu for sleeping. Upon hearing the footsteps of Fletch approaching he rose up and greeted him. "Ah, you have returned." [Private to DM Shaun; Fletch:  "I hope you were more fruitful than I. The only folk I found were quite... off. on the plus side I did find a tavern we must visit at some point. Seems they have some potent drinks. So what did you learn?"]

I step up to the edge of the ship, at the gangplank to shore.  Covered in my new armor I stop for a moment, distracted my the scene of the city at night.  I am lost in thought for a moment.  My cloak and hood covers most of what I wear.  [Private to DM Shaun: Only with good spot check: My armour looks slightly discolored, showing stains of where blood affected its oxidation.]  A large shield covers my back showing some kind of emblem facing away from the others.  [Private to DM Shaun: This will be good to be on dry land again.  It does not look much like home here.  The city looks dark and foreboding.  The torches remind me of the flames I watched before I left.  My home, my brothers...  one day he will pay for this.  The people accepted him with loving arms, while my bothers were slaughtered or forced to recant.  At least I am alive, I wish they were here... I wish I could have done more to help them.  I will be able to now though, no longer will I be an untrained civilian, who only knows how to read books and pontificate about philosophy.  I will learn the art of my fathers, the art of my people, I will learn the art of war.  How I will do this in this new land I have no idea, but I only have God to trust in now.  Only he knows my pain, and he must be my defense.  Deep down the question gnaws at me... how did He let this happen? but I quickly tell it to shut up, I am alive am I not? He saved me? I was unwise, I was blind. GAA! These thoughts entangle me again, I must return to the task at hand... yes the task at hand.  Like they said in our military, mission first...]
     I return to my current task at hand.  I motion for the writing utensil. "Wo soll ich unterschreiben? Bleistift bitte, danke."  I write my name in well written script, not purposeful like Mitsu, but clearly something I had plenty of practice in.  After I sign, I shift my pack better on my back and exit the boat.
     I walk toward the men who left ahead of me now waiting by the gang plank.  I speak to them through an accent, "Hullo, you look like you got the letter I did as vell.  I also received one.  You think it is real?  I think it seems strange.  Would you wish to travel together to meet our contact?  I think we are better off together in a city like this."  I mention little more about the letter now, for I share their skepticism over it.  We seem to agree on this.  I speak to them over others, seeing their minor familiarity from our long voyage as an asset in trust over the others who inhabit this foreign city.

{OOC: Would you all prefer I use Aqua or Yellow for my speech?}
This message was last edited by the GM at 16:52, Mon 28 Dec 2015.

In reply to Mitsu Hattori (msg # 8):

[Private to DM Shaun; Mitsu Hattori: Fletch looked at the warrior a moment or two before speaking. Guess all those manners hadn't done him too well. "We'll I learned an earful. The man we're to meet is running the show here. Speaks for the king, who is just a boy now. But he ain't liked too much it seems. Locals got a nick name for 'im, the "Pig God". They say not to say it near a guard though. I'm not liking this, seems that there have been so many of us they even got a name for us too. "letter kids" something rotten's going on with the arena. I think we're too far tho to leave, My bets they know we're already in town and we don't got much of a choice. I'm thinking it's best if we make our way to this arena, but keep a tight grip on that blade o' yours."  ]