"I'm going over to the guild to get settled in and cleaned up," Lantamori told the others as she patted Cloud's neck.  "Get an idea of what other jobs might be available."

Haazheel thanks Master Deyna. He suggests Lanatamori, if it please you, let's all go.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:26, Mon 20 May 2019.

Farian praises Pelor for the strength and courage found in the Leafblade Company for their role in protecting the wagons. She's happy to arrive at Port Lyalee without further incident, and heads off to the temple district once Master Deyna releases the company. She performs a few devotions, deposits a few coins in the poor box, then seeks out the head priest regarding Volsh's condition.

Narthian has never been so far south, and eagerly greets the aquatic members of his race. He delights in the colors, seemingly all of those present in nature, and the incorporation of natural things in the architecture. About the only thing he doesn' appreciate is the closed in nature of walls and street. And the constant calling Thunder away from various food vendors, much to the vendor's visible relief.

"I agree with you, Lantamori," Narthian says, and also goes to the guild hall for a bath and change of clothes. Thunder's happy to roll in the dust of  a dry patch of mud in the guild's courtyard.

Volsh grunted when they were able to drag the log away from the wagon. When they reached the other side he patted his new horse on the neck, "well get it in the future together eh Eagle?"

He eagerly strips off his wet things to dry off and took the hot meal offered.

...

Volsh didn't know how to take the site of this large port city. It was new for him and he tried to take it all in for a bit before the caravan descended into the city.

"It was interesting Master Deyna. I think you should offer more prayers to the traveling god before you head back." he said to her when she pressed the pouch into his hands. He turned Eagle away and followed Lantamori to the guildhall. He stabled Eagle and refreshed himself and rested himself.

He spent some time in prayer in his room to the great and small gods,

Once he came out he looked a little more haggard than before, but he looked for some of the others. "Anyone know where this temple to WeeJas is supposed to be?"

Dellas enjoyed the remaining travel as they made their way towards the Port. He was a bit disappointed when their journey was at an end and he was paid, "I look forward to travelling with you again if the stars so say so."

He turned and looked at the others, beaming a smile as he realized now they get to explore this port and the mention of the Adventurers Guild "Sounds like fun, Maybe they will know where a Phoenix is." Dellas skipped ahead towards the guild and then looked back at the others "Well are you coming? We should also look for more pearls."

Haazheel replies to Volsh, "Not I, but one can ask. Wherever we go here, I think we should stick together."
This message was last edited by the GM at 07:02, Tue 21 May 2019.

The Adventurers' Guildhall of Port Lyalee is, as all stories have said, completely made of things found by other adventurers and donated to the Guild.  The main building seems to consist of parts of old ships, masts repurposed as columns, siding as walls, ports as windows.  A few larger windows seem to have come from ancient homes or temples, as they're formed of colored glass in all sorts of fanciful scenes out of legends and myths.  The massive double doors, one of which stands open, are formed of a heavy black wood, expertly carved to look like a reclining pair of dragons atop a mound of treasure, and augmented with hammered bits of bronze and cut glass.

Inside, the ribs of ships make up the beams, and a half-dozen chandeliers, not a one matching, stretch down from the ceiling.  Curiously-formed lamps and mismatched (though intriguing) candlesticks line the walls and decorate the tables to await the oncoming of night.  Between lamps made of chull claws and krenshar skulls are a tapestry that depicts a manticore fighting a dozen orcs, a painting of a harpy being pursued by a gold dragon, the preserved body of a splayed-out small kraken, a collection of a dozen decorative plates with designs in high relief, and other such large and bulky treasures.

Any item found that did not suit an adventurer's taste, or was too awkward to carry, and was something they didn't find or didn't wish to find a buyer for ended up here.  It was said that if you managed to find a retired adventurer, their house would look much the same.  Where else would one be able to display their collection of beast horns or captured spellbooks?

No two tables or chairs were alike, and most seemed to have been dining or banquet tables in their youth, now put to use resting the weary bones of adventurers.  The few upholstered chairs were around the massive fireplace (with the large jawbone of some sea creature afixed to the mantle), which has the ubiquitous cauldron emitting a savory aroma over the coals.  There's a half-dozen other patrons here at the moment.  Four seem to be an adventuring group, gathered at a glossy brown table carved with griffons.  There's a slender, tanned human with slicked-back black hair in buff traveling robes, a crow on his shoulder, a muscled half-elf with a longsword and shortsword balancing her blue leather swordbelt, a gnome in deep rose leathers with old keys braided into her hair, and a barefoot elf with his simple breeches and shirt bound close to his lean body with cords.  These four are eating quietly, occasionally gesturing animatedly as they talk in low voices.

The fifth patron is a plump human man in fine crimson linen, rings on every finger, two earrings in each ear, a glittering ruby stud in his nose, wearing multiple bracelets and necklaces.  He chats jovially with the serving man, a gangling human man with knotted muscles and iron-gray hair, before taking his bottle of wine and getting back to perusing a scroll.  The sixth patron is a venerable elf woman with pure white hair, wearing fine, parchment-colored robes.  She has thin, silver jewelry, and one hand seems to be made of pure silver.  A series of five small filigree orbs of silver and pale blue circle the sheets of paper and pots of ink she has at her table, hovering like silent, attentive birds.

Aside from the serving man, there is one more person in the Guildhall, at the large desk at the back of the room.  Presumably the Guildmaster or their representative, the person pouring over the ledger is a massively muscled half-orc woman with a shaved, tattooed scalp and a scar on her forearm that looks like snake fangs... if the snake had teeth the size of an elf's finger.

A door to one side of the desk seems to lead to the kitchen, a door to the right is labeled "Private Rooms".  Stairs at the back likely go up to the barracks rooms and private sleeping rooms.  Near the fireplace is the ubiquitous jobs boards with their plethora of potential opportunities for employment.

Jobs for Adventurers



Adventuers Looking for Jobs



Services for Adventurers



The group, once inside, can inquire of the serving man about places to refresh themselves.  Once you show him your badges and let him know who you are, he nods.

"Right you are, Leafblade Company.  Up the stairs, bathhouse is at the back. There's a cistern on the roof, so water should be warm. Got room in the barracks for you for next three nights for certain, likely longer if you think you'll be there that long. Free for tonight, three silver a day after.  Name's Rosto, if you need me.  Guildmaster is Karaja Fangbreaker."

The bathing room has good privies with not the least bit of smell, four good tubs, and several sinks to clean up in. The soap is harsh but cleansing, and the towels simple sackcloth.  More money will likely produce softer towels and better soap.  The barracks room, a typical example, has sturdy cots and plain, unlocked chests with hafts at their feet.  There's evidence at least four other cots are in use.

Sir Aberlayne takes a quick wash and then will go, with anyone else interested to tell her what you have been up to since you left Redhaven. The Guildmaster looks up at the Leafblade Company at the interruption from her scribing in her ledger.  She has half-moon spectacles perched on her nose, and regards you all with a squint.

"Tell me your tale first.  Gotta do things in order," she says gruffly.  She turns to a clean page and dips her pen in the ink to fill the reservoir.  Upon the relation of your stories, of the ogres, werewolves, vampire spawn, possible actual vampire, lifting a siege, and aiding Fort Cross in recovering tribute, she writes furiously, tongue tapping against one of her small tusks as she does.  At the end of the recitation, she leans back and lifts a tattooed eyebrow at you all.

"Impressive. Moves you up to Ironguard, that will. I'll get new badges in the morning.  Make your marks," she says, indicating where she had finished scribing. Those looking over the account find it accurate, and the handwriting is impeccable.


--

Farian, when you go to Shrine Street, you have no trouble finding the Temple of Light. Made of pale wood and stone, and carved with many windows to let the light in, the inside of the temple is as bright at the outside, augmented by brass reflectors and magical lights.  The priests there are happy to add you to their ongoing rights, and pleased to accept your donation to the needful folk of the area.

"Have you any news to impart, Sister, or any need you need met?" one of the priests asks, a young human woman named Sister Drell.  When told she needs to see the high priest about a serious healing, she is conducted to the private chapel for privacy.  Within an hour, the high priest Leparion, an older half-elf man with pale blond hair just going white, comes to speak with her.  Upon hearing about Volsh's condition, he nods gravely.

"That is indeed dire news.  I must confess, I have never personally lifted a curse of lycanthropy, but I have lifted other curses.  Thought I may ask for the blessing to do so, much remains with the will of the afflicted. This friend of yours must have the strength of spirit to throw off his curse, or else no divine magic I bring to bear can remove it," he says gently.

Now clean and wearing her nice green dress with the leaf and trumpet vine embroidery, the elf wandered back over from the job board to add her name to Sir Aberlayne's account.  She'd left her pack and the rest of her nonmagical gear in the barracks.  She wore a silver dagger in her belt and saddlebags over her shoulder.

The saddlebags were a compromise.  Otherwise, she had no other way to carry the more than three hundred coins she'd collected.  Her small belt purse had proved completely inadequate in capacity.  Perhaps she'd go shopping for a proper bag to match her dress.

As much as he'd grown to enjoy the halflings -- and the tasty meals they'd provided on the journey -- Dante's pleased to have completed another job. The port city is just begging to be explored, and he's never seen sea elves outside of paintings before.

After thanking Master Deyna and wishing her well, Dante goes along with those going to the Adventurer's Guildhall. As curious as he is about exploring the city, he wants to do it comfortably. And preferably not while carrying so much coin all at once, either.

The guildhall is certainly the most eclectic of those he's seen so far.  He eyed the kracken with distaste as he passed it. Some dire sea creature, he suspects, but nothing he'd want to waste coin preserving.

He takes note of the elves in the room automatically, finding no one he knows. The half-elf at the table catches his attention when he notes her blue leather sword belt. It makes him wonder if there's any similarity to the one he claimed, although for now he only takes a cursory look, wanting to get cleaned up first and foremost.

But before that... when he reaches the impressively large guildmaster, he has some matters that take precedence. "Good day, Guildmaster," he greets her. "Are there any private rooms available?" The barracks are adequate, but he has the coin to afford something better, and that's what he'd prefer if one is available. And after that matter has been resolved, "Does the guildhall have a stables, or perhaps an arrangement with a local stable? I've not had a horse to deal with before this, so I'm not familiar with normal arrangements."

If there's a private room, he'll settle his personal gear there, then go back out to see that Mask gets where she needs to go, and that she'll receive proper care. Once the horse is settled, he'll return to the guildhall and get cleaned up -- paying for better soap and towels if that option is there. He's been living rough; it's time to indulge in the benefits of civilization, now.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:12, Wed 22 May 2019.

Dellas is wide eyed as they walked through the double doors, he looked to the dragons "You know a couple illusion spells could make this breathing fire all day long." he said absently to anyone listening and no one in particular. He made his way to the baths, the swim in the river was nice and all but a good bath was needed. He sang a small song as he played in the water as would a child while cleaning himself.

Upon completion he made his way to the barracks and stowed his pack, but kept his coin, spellbook and other items of note upon him as he made his way back down stairs. He nodded in approval of their account and signed his mark in a fluid penmanship.

Dellas from there wandered over to the job board "Oh that one looks interesting. Oh that one sounds like lots of fun. Hey we should go do that one." He looks back to the others who mostly seem to be ignoring him.

Farian shares the tale of the battle with the vampire spawn and the (hopefully) contained vampire. "If not for the foul living vines, our party might have destroyed it. It was a hard test for me, a devotee of Saint Bane, to not have done so. But I have learned much since then, as have those in my company. When we return that way, we will ensure it walks in the Light of Pelor!"

"As for our afflicted friend, I will speak with him. Our druid companion seems quite keen on reminding Volsh that he must be cleansed, so I cannot see why he would not be willing."

As is usual, Narthian and Thunder wander off, probably seeking a park or some other open space.

Looking over the different notices that were posted in the guildhall Volsh nodded and took his gear, saddlebags out with him. "Back later, gonna go stable Eagle and check out some things."

Bruenor takes in the colorful seaside town, amazed at the various sorts of people, buildings, smells...  If nothing else, adventuring let you see a bit of the world.  He was realizing how small his world was before joining the Guild.

"I'm going to get Demon stabled, and will make my way to the Guildhall," he shares.  Demon was always fidgety in a busy town, plus hadn't hunted in some time.  He didn't want to take a chance at leaving him 'loose', or someone's hen or small pet was likely to disappear.  After getting Demon settled, he gives the horse a bit of dried meat for his efforts...that'd have to do for now; and then adjourns to the guildhall to meet up with the others.  He quickly makes his way upstairs to the barracks, anxious to get out of his armor and clean up a bit...but he heads downstairs quick enough for a bite to eat and something to drink.

As the Guildmaster records their exploits, he almost nods in admiration at such an adventure.
 In his defense, it sounded much more impressive when someone else was writing it down.  He allows himself a smile at the news of their new rank...a bit chuffed at what he'd accomplished since leaving his home.

Barring any pressing engagements, once they've sorted out the party loot, he's keen to swing by the Lucky Blade to see what they've got and will see if anyone else wants to go.

There is a basic stable attached to the Adventurers' Guildhall, and for three silver a night your mounts will be fed, groomed, and attended to.  Mounts other than horses, or those with special needs, the Guild will levy a bit more of a fee.  A meat-eating horse like Demon will likely rate an extra 2 silver to stable due to the need for meat, and more wary handling.

Those who want more luxurious care for their mounts, finer grades of feed, tack cleaning or repair, or someone to train their mounts, would best to look for Killdagger Stables, or their rival (which Roscoe the serving man will tell you) Lacewind Mount, Boarding, and Tack.



"Stable's out back, three silver for care and feed.  Got five private rooms available, gold a night.  Put you in the Forest Room.  Nice cat, doesn't shed," the Guildmaster says rapidly.  Her speech is clipped, as if she is thinking of several things at once and can't be bothered to be more eloquent.  When Averdante gives her the gold, she'll slide over the key to him, and tells him to see Roscoe about the towels and soap (for another silver).


The Forest Room has excellent paintings of leafy branches on the walls, a few forest-themed tapestries and paintings, several fine dark green rugs, and a collection of furniture (large bed, desk, two chairs) that seem to have come from a set, all carved from dark wood to look as if it grew there.  The comforter and cushions match the theme, and the mattress seems to be a good one of fine wool and feathers.  Several lamps light the room, enchanted with continual flame to give steady light (with covers to douse their light at night).



Roscoe catches Lantamori when she comes down the stairs, flashing a polite smile.  "Some of our fellows have some items for trade, if you don't want to head down to the market for anything.  Or if you're just going to the Moneychangers' Guild, they're right next door; odd cash is a bit of a hazard of the profession," he mentions to her.



Sir Aberlayne slips up next to her brother once she's done relaying their story to the Guildmaster.  "What's catching your eye, Dellas?  Looks like a few interesting ones down here...  Mimic hunt could be challenging, but what I'm intrigued about is how they can't find the source of that.  That could be an interesting mystery to solve."



Demon can be stabled at the Adventurers' Guild for 5 silver and a quick explanation to the grooms.  The rest of his items settled down, and a quick meal of the usual stew and plain ale (a basic meal for a silver at the Guild), he can stroll out for some shopping.

--

The Lucky Blade, Metal Street

The Lucky Blade is a brightly-lit shop that apparently, from the sounds of it, keeps it smithy in the back so a more convivial shopping experience can be had.  The front room has gleaming racks of weapons, polearms, swords, bows, various examples of arrows, even several rather exotic ones in special cases.  There are more cutlasses and scimitars here, which is not usual along the coast and so relatively close to the Unwanted Desert, along with nets, tridents, and harpoons for those sailing the seas.  The weapons in cases are likely those which are enchanted: a blue longsword with moonstones along the grip, a dagger seemingly made from a large tooth with a ruby tip, an orc double axe made of a solid piece of obsidian, a short sword seemingly made of white metal with tiny runes along the blade, a bastard sword whose hilt and quillions look like feathers, a longbow wrapped in purple leather, a bright yellow shortbow, and a rapier that glows in cascading rainbow colors.

There is a middle-aged human man in silvery leathers with the same symbol as the Lucky Blade worked on it who seems to be in charge of the shop, currently aiding a young woman in her selection of daggers.

----

At Pelor's Temple of Light, Shrine Street



"The vines may not have been so foul," High Priest Leparion says thoughtfully.  "The way you described the room and the history, as well as how the vampire was kept, it sounds like the elf priests of Greenhaven were killing the vampire, but slowly and with a care to return its power to the earth, with guardians to make certain no one accidentally freed it.  It is a slow death, but for all the misery it had inflicted, perhaps they felt the vengeance was necessary. Elves have long lives and long memories, and their laws differ amongst their own people. They apparently missed the creation of the spawn you ended up destroying, which was to their sorrow.  If you return to slay the vampire with Pelor's Light, you must be utterly certain of its destruction, lest we let loose a greater evil already being held and slowly slain.

"As for your friend, go to him and let him know the Light is here to aid him.  May Pelor light your way."  The High Priest raises his hand in a blessing upon Farian, and then rises.  "If you wish to join our martial exercises at Sunsdown, you are welcome to find a spot in our training yard."

--

Pultain School of Polymorphing

Narthian is in search of those who know things about change, and the closest candidates are those known as the Circle of Change, druids who reside at the Pultain School of Polymorphing.  On the edge of Port Lyalee stands a hefty keep speckled with towers, some of which seem to have been grown from rock clearly not native to the area.  One tower seems to be made of glass blocks, and another is of ice!  The wall around the place is both to keep unruly magic in (as those who live around the area will say) as well as bystanders out.  Keeping young magic-workers from playing tricks is impossible, but apparently those in charge of the school try to keep it to an acceptable minimum.

When Narthian states his business to the Dragons at the Door (a pair of guardswomen with shrewd eyes, scarred in their profession, wearing dragon-scale armor of dull blue), the one on the left nods.  "We can let you in with a temporary pass, but only go where we tell you," she says.  Her fellow slips a small chit of wood from her beltpouch, this one painted bright green, and hands it to Narthian.  "For one, the kids don't always have perfect control of where their spells go, and two... they're kids.  And the Headmaster doesn't like people wandering about hither and thither.  Go straight in to the courtyard, through the archway onto the green, and then there's a tight grove of willows off to the left.  There's your Circle."

Inside the school gates, Narthian sees an large expanse of flagstones for the courtyard, with several arched doorways leading off of it.  Two young men and a young woman in robes quickly pop out of one and skitter up the stairs through another, scroll cases and books their bookstraps banging off of their backs.  A few chickens scratch and peck in the archway, one normal, one a vivid shade of pink, and one with a squirrel tail.  Through the archway an onto the large green, he spies a few more students in robes reclining on the grass, either reading, conversing, or snoozing.  Off to the left is the promised willow grove, their sweeping, drooping branches providing a perfect curtain.

Pushing through it, he finds himself in a cool green haven.  The trees form a wall of green and silver-brown around a circle of moss with a pool at its center.  Two figures are conversing in the low crook of a willow branch.  One is a halfling man in an undyed linen tunic and trousers, barefoot, with an eagle perched above him.  The eagle has the eartufts of an owl, and the halfling has the small antlers of a stag.  The other is a gnome woman with a luxuriant pair of white rabbit ears, and is caressing a badger who sports the long, strong, naked tail of an opossum.

The eagle and the gnome turn to look at Narthian and Thunder first, the gnome smiling broadly.  "A new friend! What change drives you to the Circle?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:51, Mon 27 May 2019.

"Thank you! My name is Narthian Goldleaf, a traveler from the Farsight Conclave far to the north. This is my companion, Thunder." The great gray wolf halts by Narthian's side, his nose extended out to sniff the unfamiliar creatures. "I would say that the change that brought me is that which is soon to occur in a friend of mine. ... At the full moon." Narthian gives the gnome and halfling a knowing look, then takes a breath. "He asked me to find a way to be a wolf brother, without the... side effects... of his condition. I have heard legends, which I do not believe. But Volsh is of my pack, so I hope against hope. Is there any help for him here?"

"We have several elves in our party. I think they will be happy to know the vine's purpose." Farian bows to High Priest Leparion and accepts the blessing. "May Pelor's Light burn bright for all to see! I shall return this evening." Farian bows again and returns to the guild hall to find the halflings discussing the jobs.

"Perhaps we should seek the turtle. Surely we could track it down in a couple hours!" She laughs. "I do not like the sounds of this skeleton, be it undead or construct. It seems the antithesis of the Light. We should find it and discover why it left it's creator. Where is Lantamori? She's our finder of missing things."

Lantamori hands over 3 silver for Cloud's accommodation and heads next door to the Moneychangers' Guild to make a deposit.

Content to pay extra for some finer amenities -- for himself, at least; Mask is a horse, and basic good care should see to her needs just fine. He turns her over to the guildhall's ostlers, then goes back inside to clean the road off of himself. Afterwards, dressed in his good clothes and with Prreet once more settled across his shoulders, he seeks out the guildmaster once more.

"Do you know if there are any of Ehlonna's priests in the area?" he asks her. He wants to learn about the sacred arrows he's carried, and used to such great effect. And it would benefit his companions further if he could acquire more of them.

Even more than that, though, he'd like to offer Ehlonna his personal thanks for the gift of them. She surely intended for him to find Her bow and the arrows, and while he's confident he's used them as they were meant to be used... they were a gift, and one should offer thanks for gifts.

Pultain School of Polymorphing



The gnome with the rabbit ears pauses, ears quivering, then sits down again.  She looks at the halfling, and he purses his lips, thinking.

"I'm Gelty Longfoot, and my colleague is Iffandy Graskle.  My bird is Sharpshin, and her badger is Curly," the halfling says, stroking chin.  His beard grows briefly under his hand so he can tug on it thoughtfully.  "There are legends of such a thing.  It's just... I believe it is possible, but I think I know why it hasn't been often attempted.  The legends of the werewolf are written in blood, as those who fail to control the beast lose themselves to the bloodlust of the hunt. Those who go after them first are usually those who loved them, and they are the first to suffer when the wolf goes after such easy and accessible prey. Those who manage to control the wolf... they must then forevermore defend themselves against those who only know the dangerous werewolf, or else hide what they are and forbid all contact and love. And after years of loneliness? I cannot entirely blame them for seeking out acceptance amongst other of their kind.

"Is it possible for your friend to live in harmony with his wolf? Yes, if he is strong of will and learns the ways of working in concert with the beast inside him. More importantly, he must be surrounded by those who care for him and his decision, else he be an outcast. I think loneliness and exile has created more harmful werebeasts than their internal struggles," Gelty says, his expression very somber.

--

On Guild Street



The Moneychangers' Guild is a very sturdy building, made of stone with a slate roof, subtly decorated with steel and a faint bit of gilt.  While well-carved, it is not overly ostentatious, which is perhaps very wise.  Flaunting wealth can draw too much of the wrong attention.  At the counter at the back, several clerks wait behind protective bars, sliding boxes beneath to transfer money, chits, and goods without anyone being able to directly threaten those handling large quantities of gold.  The clerk free to help Lantamori is a half-elf of middle age, his desk neat as a pin, several fine pens lined up on his side.  When she passes over her gold, he raises his eyebrows in appreciation.  Making careful notation of her money and name, he hands her several chits with her name and the Guild seal on them, in denominations of fifty and twenty-five gold, for easier spending.

"If you have need of a larger purchase, Miss Lantamori, we can give you a chit for that exact amount or have a runner send one to the relevant shop or guild, whichever you prefer," the clerk says politely as he hands them over.

--

Adventurers' Guildhall



Sir Aberlayne nods slightly.  "There is a great deal we could do here.  Jobs are added all the time, so perhaps our fellow guildmembers here," she waves at the others seated, "have already done some. But I agree.  I think Lantamori went to one of the other Guilds, maybe the Moneychangers'?  Or shopping.  But we can ask the Guildmaster where the job contacts are and see what we can learn."



"Shrine Street, at the end, butts up to the Sea Gardens park," the guildmaster says shortly, but nods at him and Prreet in a friendly fashion.  She reaches out a hand, but halts it before touching.  "Does the stone cat like pets?"

"Well, we will not decide on a job today," Farian says to Sir Aberlayne. "Not with so many of the Leafblade Company who knows where at the moment."
This message was last edited by the GM at 06:44, Sat 01 June 2019.

Having concluded her business at the moneychanger's, Lantamori strolled off to find a more fitting bag for her outfit.  The Market Square sounded like a good place to start.

"Thank you," Dante smiles at guildmaster, who seems a bit less fearsome now. "I'll ask him. His name is Prreet."

If Prreet would rather not, he will, politely apologetic, explain that to the guildmaster, as he won't ask his cat to submit to a stranger's touch if he'd rather not. Otherwise, Dante's happy to linger a bit and let Karaja spoil Prreet with some extra attention.

Afterwards, he'll head for the park to seek out Ehlonna's faithful. He'll take the Moonbow and, within his quiver, the sacred arrow with him. He watches for more of the sea elves on the way, being a little fascinated with seeing folk so exotic to what he's grown up around.
This message was last edited by the player at 05:25, Sat 01 June 2019.

Adventurers' Guildhall



"Of course, but there's no harm in asking any general information the Guildmaster might have.  That way we'd be prepared, if you so please.  The turtle, skeleton construct, and mushroom hunter could all be quick jobs we could complete even in teams of three or so.  Basilisk eggs... that might need a more delicate touch.  The orc chieftain, island exploration, and the mimic hunt would take all of us, I think," Sir Aberlayne says, thinking out loud.



Prreet is happy to show off for potential admirers, and oozes down to arch his back, then lounge on the Guildmaster's desk.  Karaja pets down Prreet's smooth back several times, a smile on her face as she scritches his ears.

"Good cat, a very good cat. One with a good soul," Karaja says, giving Prreet one last rub under the chin.

---

Market Square

Lantamori, in the market for a new bag, headed towards the Market Square.  Not quite in the center of down, but definitely more towards the docks to facilitate the amount of cargo being on-and-off-loaded, the Market Square is a large, irregular paved area dotted with several fountains, lined with storefronts and strewn liberally with stalls.  A few small stages on opposite ends allow for entertainers (usually in small groups) to add a little extra color to the shopping experience (as well as gain coin themselves).  On one, three jugglers are performing as they toss balls, batons, and fruit to and fro in a bewildering variety of ways (some apples disappearing in bites as they are being tossed, to the amusement of the crowd).  On another, a trio of musicians on tabor, fiddle, and flute play a bright jig that have a few younger members of the crowd whirling around in enthusiastic dance.

The Market is patrolled by a few members of the Watch, strolling in pairs, eyeing the crowds with a shrewd gaze.  That seems to keep blatant theft away, though Lantamori does spot at least one opportunistic pickpocket lifting some coin from a well-dressed fellow watching the jugglers, and a sticky-fingered urchin slipping an orange out of a fruit vendor's stall while the proprietor is bundling up another customer's order.  Overall, however, the Market seems to be fairly safe.  Some dogs and cats are underfoot, some as strays, some on leashes, and there are many birds perched on rooftops or stall awnings: gulls, parrots, pigeons, and songbirds.  The cross-section of people is even greater here than near the gates, as here you see not just desert-dwellers in their burnooses (from the relatively nearby Unwanted Desert) and aquatic elves and sailors, but also some tanned humans wearing the leather tunics of the famed Crosston horse-breeders, or elves wearing the leaf-cloth of the Black Pine Forest in the southeast.  A few richly-dressed minor nobility are in such fine fashion they only could have come from the capital of Andeluvay, for nowhere else would such exquisite embroidery be worn to a market excursion.  There are even some in the oiled cloth of river traders who ply the flowing fresh waters of Low'verok's interior.

A tour around the Market gives Lantamori a sense of what is available and where.  It seems the Market is divided somewhat sensibly, with beasts for sale on one end, with things needed for beasts next to them.  Then leather goods, fine leather goods, cloth goods both fine and mundane, embroidery, jewelry, makeup and perfume, jumble booths and bargain booths, then foodstuffs and hot food, wine and drinks, writing supplies and scribing services, messengers, guides, Guild booths, small magical items, exotic items and spices, items for hair and grooming, tattooing booths and shops, glassware, pottery, and several other more mundane household items as well.

Between the sellers of fine cloth and fine leather goods Lantamori can find what she seeks, a small leather bag in a pleasant shade of lighter green, a few vines embroidered on in a darker green, the strap sturdy, the bottom double-layered to foil cutpurses, the clasp looped to discourage pickpockets.  The vendor of Lilac's Leathers is a human woman in her thirties with her auburn hair tucked up under a blue scarf, a canvas apron over her brown dress, the pockets filled with small tools as she continued to work on a small beltpouch during Lantamori's browsing.

"Ah, a fine selection, and well-matched to you.  It will carry a morning's shopping with no risk of breaking, and fie to him who thinks to rob you of a single copper!  For that one, the price is three gold, m'lady," she says, standing and smiling at Lantamori.

--

Shrine Street, Ehlonna's Temple, near Sea Gardens Park

After speaking with the Guildmaster, Averdante adjourns to Shrine Street to seek answers about his weapons he's been using for the past several weeks.  Ehlonna is a goddess of forests, and most of her temples and shrines are found in quiet woodland spaces.  But in a crossroads like Port Lyalee, her priests understand that even her faithful just want a quiet place to worship without having to take an extra day of travel each way to get there.  At the end of Shrine Street, the trees of Sea Gardens Park seem to meld into a building whose columns are carved to match the living trees.  Combinations of vines and green cloth create a good illusion of coming into a forest grove, and the musical fall of water from a seemingly natural rocky spring that abuts one side of the "grove".  Moss carpets the floor, and a few squirrels and rabbits even scamper about.  Ehlonna's holy symbol of the unicorn is subtly carved against one wall, highlighted by lighter woods and small living flowers.

A half-elf pale green leaf-cloth gives a smile of welcome to Averdante as he enters.  She hefts up a large rabbit, easily the size of a small dog, to flop against her shoulder like a babe as she walks over to greet him.  Up close she is probably in her sixties, but fit and strong.  Faint scars trail down one side of her neck to disappear into her clothing, and her light brown hair is marked with strands of white.

"Welcome to the Grove of Ehlonna.  What brings you to seek the wisdom of the Lady of the Groves?"