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22:33, 27th April 2024 (GMT+0)

Fuzzy:  Downtine 4719.

Posted by DMFor group 0
DM
GM, 5248 posts
Fri 17 Jun 2022
at 09:15
  • msg #1

Fuzzy:  Downtine 4718

A place for character building IC posts and crafting.

Posts here attract XP :)
Marceline Gray
player, 375 posts
Half-Elf Inquisitor
Tue 21 Jun 2022
at 05:27
  • msg #2

Fuzzy:  Downtine 4718

In her private quarters in Silverton, Marceline stood in front of a table that looked like a druid had bought life back to the wood - life and flowery vengeance.

Unwilling to admit how frazzled she was, Marceline turned to her assistant Lynessa and huffed. "You promise this is all correct? I didn't expect there to be a...a science to this!" She says with exaggerate hand waiving at the overgrown table. Lynessa ignored the flailing as she held up a large piece of parchment illustrated with dozens of examples of flower arraignments and the meanings behind them.

"We just have to make sure the chrysanthemums don't overwhelm the forget-me-nots and balance the colors accordingly - the nightsage should make it clear these are for luck and Pharasma's blessing. Wouldn't do good to cause diplomatic issues with a mixed message." Marceline almost drops the bundle of flowers she's assembling, not sure if her assistant is joking or not. "Please tell me we aren't about to cause a civil war with flowers."

Lynessa, for her part, kept her expression neutral just long enough to really sell the bit. "Only if we include roses. Red ones. These should go over fine. If not, well......the Roths can hide us both, right?" Lynessa says with a small smirk.

Marceline just glares slightly and continues to make bundles. Flowers were more complicated than she'd expected, and there was a lot to do before attempting delivery.
DM
GM, 5519 posts
Thu 15 Dec 2022
at 11:29
  • msg #3

Fuzzy:  Downtime 4719

This thread allows you to make
  • Character background posts  -  ie what your character has been doing in the times between adventuring.  In the past, we have enjoyed everything from internal monologues to complete mini-scenario descriptions from players.  Note, however, that this is for standalone posts -  not dialogue between players.
  • Crafting -  make a post that coverers your crafting activities.  You have a maximum of 50 days crafting time per game year.  This type of post should include and ooc or private line -  doing all the maths and calculations for me  (I get lazier in my old age)
  • Practice skills -  as per the rules for earning money from your skills.  Just remember that if you are a noble and seen busking on the street -  it doesn't do all that much for your reputation  :P

Like always -  I award XP for posts in here  :)
DM
GM, 5524 posts
Sun 18 Dec 2022
at 21:36
  • msg #4

Fuzzy:  Downtime 4719

Now with the correct year!  D'Oh!
Tobias Cotton
player, 29 posts
Thu 22 Dec 2022
at 11:39
  • msg #5

Fuzzy:  Downtine 4718

Sat together at a small table by the hearth, Tobias watched as his cousin played stones with Sorna; the lanky Daggerfall native had the beginning of an amused smirk that suggested Esme was probably continuing her losing streak. Her attention to the game wasn't sufficient to prevent a wary eye on the other diners, much to Tobias' own amusement and he supped lightly at his ale.

"Poacher's Pale", he observed softly to them both, with a raised eyebrow, "It's good too, if a little creamy for my tastes". He took another sip, smothering a laugh at Esme's expression of distracted consternation, "You wonder where a brew like this finds its name..."

Esme sniffed and waggled a finger at him, "Keep you head out of the clouds, Tobias, as my pa used to say... There's plenty of opportunities here that weren't at home, if you stop yourself haring off with your schemes."

At moments like this, she was like a ruffled mother hen, Tobias thought to him. He was wise enough never to say such out loud, and he knew that beneath that exterior was a sharp mind and a sharper tongue. Instead, he sent he haring afer a different target, "You'll travel ahead, to Silverhold? Get things set up, whilst Sorna and I handle find a feel from the river? I want a feel for the folk we might trade with, what they need and who watches over them. "

"Needs and wants, as Uncle Lem used to say", he finished quietly, raised his mug to Esme's father, retired now, but not somewhere either of them would want him to be

OOC: Doing some small trades on the way to Silverhold, i.e. practising Profession: Merchant
This message was last edited by the player at 11:42, Thu 22 Dec 2022.
Domitius Aldori-Solanus
player, 788 posts
Half Elf Swordlord
AC:23 HP:55
Sat 24 Dec 2022
at 00:23
  • msg #6

Fuzzy:  Downtine 4718

Domitius rode at the head of the column of Aldori troops heading to Varnhold at his side was Barbatius then came his Bannermen, above them his new pennon flew a black griffin closest to the pole, then the three suns of the Solanus house.  A troop of chasseurs followed, they would be the first of his troops enter his new desmene.

The party came to the top of a hill and there before them was Varnhold, Dom smiled and signalled a halt.  Tears of hard work had lead to this moment and he wanted to savour the moment.   Argos his mount shook his head impatiently,  the creaking of leather and a pair of ravens flew overhead.  These were the things he would remember in latter years.

Then with a smile he signalled the troops forward.

OOC Practicing Profession Soldier

13:05, Today: Domitius Aldori-Solanus rolled 28 using 1d20+10.  Profession Soldier.


This message was last edited by the player at 02:07, Sat 24 Dec 2022.
Adoven Lodovka-Sud
Player, 1263 posts
AC 22 F+3 R+11 W+4
Rogue / Bard, HP 40/51
Mon 2 Jan 2023
at 05:54
  • msg #7

Fuzzy:  Downtine 4718

Adoven had a rare night of rest. Viktoria was off helping to establish the new Three Ladies School, and had brought their daughter along to 'see what mommy does', although personally Adoven thought the girl was old enough to start learning the art of the blade. He made a note to have Robert assign someone to teach her the basics. He noted that a serving girl had left hot tea for him, and he murmured his thanks as he spread the latest map of the Stolen lands before him on the table.  These latest moves by Houses Yitis and Surtova told him that his quiet building of a financial empire had at last been noticed, and the bigger Merchant Empires were now looking at Midmarch in hopes of expanding their profits. Of course, the building of the canals at Fey Falls had just as much to do with it. Safiya's bold thinking opened up a direct line from Tusk to Restov. That had allowed him to get established in Restov, and he was starting to turn a profit in those investments. But he was locked out of New Stetvan unless Adoven could come up with something just as bold. Something that he could leverage to get his foot in the door in New Stetvan. But what? His eyes roved over the map, noting that travel through Lake Hooktongue might no longer be threatened by river pirates, but monsters were still a worry. Further south were the 'pirate' kingdoms of Mivon and others, where river piracy still existed. How could Adoven create an opportunity for New Stetvan to trade with Restov....and have Tusk pick up profit along the way? His eyes drift up to Wyvern Bridge, where he had been expanding his facilities. He glanced to the side at what one of his architects had sketched, something called an aqueduct. It would be expensive as hell, probably what it would cost to build two moderately sized cities, but it Could be done. An aqueduct connecting Wyvern Bridge to one of the waterways feeding Lake Tusk would bypass the dangers of both Lake Hooktongue and the River Kingdoms, and he could 'charge' New Stetvan a toll of 'local credit' that he could use to build a base in New Stetvan. Everybody wins. Except any pirates around Mivon, but Adoven could not summon any tears for them. He pulled out his spreadsheets to see how soon he might have the capital to begin such a project.


OOC Practicing PS Merchant


21:55, Today: Adoven Lodovka-Sud rolled 13 using 1d20+3.  PS Merchant.

This message was last edited by the player at 05:57, Mon 02 Jan 2023.
~Robert Samuels-Lodkova
NPC-E Cousin, 18 posts
Sword Master
V&A Sword School
Tue 3 Jan 2023
at 09:24
  • msg #8

Fuzzy:  Downtine 4718

Robert wiped his brow under his helm. These woods in the Narlmarches were like standing over a cookfire during the afternoon. He surveyed the area as he waited for his scouts to report back. He made a mental note to thank Adoven for the suggestion. Using his graduating class to help out outlying farms with predatory animals or small goblin raids was both More practical, and liable to keep his students on their toes. Better this than mock battles with the armed patrol boats. A scout approached by stealth and whispered "goblins ahead sir. Six hundred feet or so. I counted seven. Theyre torturing a dog, probably going to eat it." Robert nodded, then gave orders. "Archers, advance to 100' short of the camp. Cut down any who make it away. Infantry weapons out. Move quarter speed with me. We pause for two minutes, then advance on the camp. Scouts, circle the camp, sneak in from that side, see if you can catch one or two flatfooted. If I see you going in, I'll have the troop advance at speed. They'll be looking at us instead."

OOC Practicing PS Soldier



00:49, Today: ~Robert Samuels-Lodkova rolled 20 using 1d20+8.  Profession Soldier.
~Hargrym Silverhammer
NPC-E Ally, 30 posts
Stonemason
Domitius Companion
Tue 3 Jan 2023
at 11:15
  • msg #9

Fuzzy:  Downtine 4718

It was late at night, Hargrym cat near the fireplace enjoying the warmth on a cold winter night.  Across his lap a ledger book lay open,the dwarves thick fingers ran down the numbers as he tallied them in his head.  Somewhere within there was an error that one of the other writers had made.

Ten minutes later with a harrumph he found it, a decimal place in the wrong spot had been the problem.  He closed the book with a satisfied snap.  Placing it on the table next to him he rose to his feet.  He crossed the room to the sideboard and poured himself a glass of DeVale Whiskey.  Before returning to his chair.

He held the glass high and gave a nod to the statue of Torag on the mantelpiece a smile on his ruddy face.

21:14, Today: ~Hargrym Silverhammer rolled 19 using 1d20+13 ((6)).

Rana Nervetti
player, 334 posts
A long way from home...
...looking for something
Thu 5 Jan 2023
at 23:20
  • msg #10

Fuzzy:  Downtine 4718

Rana looked out the window of her bedroom and smiled to herself as she could see that the day looked like it was going to be a nice one.  At the moment, there didn't appear to be many clouds in the sky to threaten rain.  Today was the day she had decided to explore more of the area she was calling home now.  With a slight spring in her step, Rana grabbed her cloak before heading to the stables to get Sunshine.  She could have asked one of the stablehands to get her mule ready, but Rana felt that she missed out, sometimes, by not doing things for herself as much as she probably could.

Leading her mule from the stables, Rana began talking softly to it.  "It looks like a beautiful day for a ride, Sunshine.  Don't you agree?  I just need to stop and get something from the market for my lunch and then we can be off."  Rana's head tilted to the right ever so slightly, almost as if she was listening to some comment or another by the mule.

"I'll pick you up something for a treat as well.  You certainly do deserve it.  We should be able to make it to Kunlun without too much trouble.  I've not been before, but I understand that there are a number of shrines there to the various gods and a very lovely garden, as well.  There are a couple of eating establishments, but I'm not certain if there are any places to secure lodging for the evening.  Who knows, my lovely companion, we may just end up camping out for the evening much like we did on the way here from home."

Once at the market area, she managed to purchase a small loaf of bread, cheese and some cold meat as well as a couple of the pastries she was fond of and a couple of apples and carrots for Sunshine.  With everything stowed into saddlebags, Rana mounted the mule and headed southwest towards the village of Kunlun.

The weather, as she had hoped, remained mostly sunny and comfortable.  A perfect day for a gentle bit of exploring!  Even though she was by herself, Rana kept up a one-sided conversation with Sunshine.  Anyone passing by probably thought she was a bit 'touched'; however, the sorceress was just happy; and, when she was happy, she talked, regardless of whether or not there was anyone else around who could speak with her.

Her mind wandered as they followed the road, and she took in the surroundings, inadvertently comparing her current location with where she'd grown up in Stoneclimb.  It wasn't a fair comparison because she had many more memories from Stoneclimb as compared to Midmarch; however, she had happy memories from both.  A small frown settled briefly on her lips as she remembered some of the 'not-so-happy' moments as she liked to think of them from Stoneclimb.  With a sigh and a shake of her head, Rana spotted a clearing to one side of the road with a small stream nearby, which she encouraged Sunshine to head towards.  She felt like she had all the time in the world, and the leisureliness of the day suited her current mood.  When Sunshine stopped, Rana gracefully dismounted and stretched.  She draped the reins on the saddle, letting Sunshine have the freedom of the clearing.  The mule was well-trained and Rana was confident that she wouldn't wander far.  Before letting Sunshine completely have her own lead, Rana took out the makings of a sandwich from the saddlebags and found a spot in the sun to sit.

There had been a few people on the road to Kunlun, 'Probably pilgrims', she thought to herself, although there was at least one merchant's wagon that had passed her going in the opposite direction.  She let her mind wander and, as it often did when she was still, the spells that she knew floated into her consciousness.  Where and why and how this knowledge came to her she didn't know.  No one with whom she spoke to could ever really explain it to her.  It still felt awkward to speak about it to people, especially since it was the reason she'd left Stoneclimb.  Her parents had accepted it and tried to convince her that it was a gift, although they also told her to not let other people know.  It had been a very confusing time of her life and at least now she felt more able to speak about it.  She had made some very interesting acquaintances so far in Midmarch.  Although she didn't know them very well, the Roth family had made her feel very welcome when she had first arrived in Tusk and the ease with which they used their own magic ability made her feel more at home in her skin.  Rana sat musing about nothing specific for a little while longer before rising and collecting Sunshine from near the stream.  Putting the food she hadn't eaten away, Rana pulled out an apple and offered it to the mule who ate it almost daintily.  When Sunshine was done, they continued on their own pilgrimmage, of sorts, to Kunlun.

Was the answer to the ever-present question in Rana's mind going to find an answer there?  Somehow Rana didn't think so, but you never knew!  Answers can come from the oddest places.  At least, that's what her da had always said.
DM
GM, 5580 posts
Fri 6 Jan 2023
at 09:01
  • msg #11

Fuzzy:  Downtine 4718

GM Note: XP done to here
Vova doMedvyed
player, 256 posts
It's easy to make a mess
when you don't clean up!
Wed 18 Jan 2023
at 17:34
  • msg #12

Fuzzy:  Downtine 4718

 Waking up in strange company is not something Vova is entirely unfamiliar with. Or even slightly unfamiliar with. It would in fact, be more accurate to say that he's more unfamiliar with waking up alone (or sober), so the grim reality of prying open sticky eyelids, fending off the jackhammer pounding in his skull, disentangling himself from other people's limbs (without noticing that one of them is quite big and quite scaled) and rising to the approximately vertical is a process he's raised to such a high art he needn't even be conscious to manage it. Which is good, because he isn't.

 This then, serves to explain how he's two thirds of the way through leaving the shoddy swamp hut-cum-tavern (that he had no recollection at all of entering) in the tiny collection of structures (to count as a 'Hamlet' would require several months of industrious civil improvement) scattered around a nominal settlement (which he has no memory of arriving at) before he registers that the handful of people who are awake with to notice him and insufficiently hungover to do nothing more than groan (a far smaller number) are glancing at him and muttering something about "the almighty pharaoh' (except for one lad who just asks another what a 'pharoah' is, only to be told 'it's like a Lord, only more foreign and nobby').

 The next piece of strangeness he has to deal with is that, instead of pecking his head or being stashed nearby nursing a hangover of his own, Vic is standing proudly on a post in the village (being glared at by a rather beaten-up looking cockerel) as a young local boy makes an unskilled, but reasonably talented attempt to carve his likeness out of a piece of timber.

 That aside, he doesn't notice the bodies until he goes to step over one to reach the well (for washing, not drinking - he's not that desperate) and (after standing on one for a bit to reach the rope then noticing that it's rising and falling sluggishly) he blinks and looks around at the scattered heaps - a full dozen scaled bodies (one, inexplicably cuddling an insensate gnoll) snoring loudly in amidst heaps of half again as many humans.

 It's that, more than anything else which finally makes him pull his hip flask from his belt and, after checking (hopefully) to see if there's anything left, sniff it and, with a shrug shake the last few drops into his mouth.

.
  .
   .
  .
 .
  .
   .


 "What... What happened?"

 "Please don't speak so loud, I'm dying here."

 "I'm whispering."

 "You're whispering loudly."

 "Never mind... What happened?"

 "Well... We... We were going to raid the human village, weren't we?"

 "Not much of a village if you ask me."

 "Well, no but it was a slow week."

 "Fair enough. Then... then what happened?"

 "Why can't you remember, you were there too!"

 "Shhhh, you'll wake Greeasha."

 "What? Why is she even here?"

 "I don't remember that either... I just... There was a human. A little over. That shaman! The sick one! And... and there were pretty lights and everyone fell down and... And he... He gave me a drink? It's fuzzy after that."

 "Yeah. He... I think he staggered out of that big hut in the middle and... I remember he challenged the chief."

 "The chief? But... The chief's like a head taller than either of us. He's like a walking boulder."

 "Yeah. Well, his mother's mother was a demon crocodile, wasn't she? From the night realm?"

 "Was she?"

 "Yeah, his grandad had a thing for big girls. Anyway, the little shaman challenged him. Well, he offered him a drink and... Said something about hair on his chest?"

 "He challenged him to a drinking contest? But... But the chief is the size of both of us put together. What happened?"

 "I don't really... I think... I remember the chief... holding his tail and giggling..."

 "Giggling? The chief?"

 "You don't get to talk with the noises you were making at that gnoll."

 "Shaddup... Anyhow, then what happened?"

 "Well... The... Chief had then bring up a sack of Spiritbreaker..."

 "The stuff made with fish bladders and the little purple  mushrooms? I heard that a black dragon tried breathing on it once and it dissolved his breath..."

 "Yeah, so... After that things got a little... Fuzzy... I remember the shaman trying to teach everybody a song about a hedgehog..."

 "A hedgehog?"

 "Yeah, there... There was something about why it couldn't..."

 "Never mind... I think I'm starting to remem... Oh... Ohhhh. Did I really?"

 "Yeah. Right up on the top of that table too. Also... also, I think we have a new chief now."

 "The shaman? No one will stand for that..."

 "No... No, the water-bird spirit."

 "Oh. Yeah, that's not so bad. I saw him dragging a crocodile out of the river earlier."

 "Will you two shut up and let me sleep? Also, you. Lie still, I'm not done with my pillowrrr."

.
  .
   .
  .
 .
  .
   .


 Finding his flask empty, Vova grimaces and pulls up a bucket of well-water (to follow the one he poured over himself) then gestures at it in an approximately arcane fashion, turning it into a reasonably good small beer which he scoops out to drink using a ladle.

 That's how the headman finds him a few minutes later, the older mostly-human swamp-fisher (his slightly green complexion the result of either a thread of orc blood in his makeup or biological debts built up the night before) picking his way between snoring bodies of several species before nervously asking "Uhm, so... no hard feelings then?"

 This seems odd to Vova of course, so he clumsily pours a measure of his new drink into a hastily-rinsed tankard he found lying around and hands it over as he asks "Hard feelings?"

 "Well, we did try to offer you as tribute to the lizardfolk raiders last night. Remember?" the headman asks, seemingly rather disconcerted by this response.

 Vova of course, being Vova looks kind of baffled and just asks "Oh? Ohhh! Is that why you were closing the bar!"

 "Closing the..? Well, I mean we did tell you that. But that was just to get you to leave. None of us were expecting you to pour a bag of semi-precious stones on the table and tell us 'it was your bar now'." the headman answers, before nervous honesty makes him add "Then you said something about buying the whole village for that."

 "I did? I must have been drunk... Well, no harm no foul!" Vova cheerfully replies, pouring himself another tankard and stretching stiffly, rubbing the small of his back and then grinning disreputably "Speaking of, are those two girls and that big lizardfolk chap still in the bar?"

 The headmans complexion shifts to be a little more green than before - partially answering the question of heritage versus hangover - and he winces "It's uhm... Well, it's not exactly ... You kind of... Well, there were some pledges made."

 "Pledges? Doesn't sound like me." Vova points out, taking a third healthy drink as Vic squonks instruction to his new acolyte about the detailing on some of the carved feathers.

 "Not you. Uhm, us. Not sure why we did, it just... Seemed the thing to do. And then you stormed outside because the Lizardfolk were here, said something about inviting them in... We never even got a chance to sacrifice you!" the headman explains - if that's the word - the final exclamation said as if it presents a defence.

 "Oh, well that's alright then. As long as I don't have to do anything. I have my hands full doing anyone." the debauched young fellow replies, cheerfully setting his tankard down and starting to walk off.

 "Well, that's rather the thing. Your lordship."

 That brings Vova to a complete stop, colour bleaching out of his face and obvious nausea rising to replace it.

 "Fuck!"
This message was last edited by the player at 05:03, Fri 20 Jan 2023.
Adoven Lodovka-Sud
Player, 1294 posts
AC 24 F+6 R+14 W+7
Rogue / Bard, HP 57/57
Sun 5 Feb 2023
at 11:44
  • msg #13

Fuzzy:  Downtine 4718

Returning after a long campaign to Varnhold....and beyond, Adoven had a lot of business to catch up on, but aside from signing the go-ahead for several planned projects, Adoven was headed home. Looking wan but relieved, he greeted Vik at the door with a kiss that lasted for minutes. Or at least until he felt a pressure on his leg as his daughter joined the family hug. Adoven ordered coffee and brandy as the family gathered for the evening meal. He made small talk, glossing over the dangerous parts of his journey, and spent time on details about the nomen, knowing his daughter had a love of horses. Learning about centaurs made her giddy with excitement and she extracted a promise from Adoven that she'd get to meet one someday. Before sending the child to bed, Adoven did something extraordinary. He pulled a folded up cloth out of his pocket, unfolded it, and laid it on the dining table. He then stuck his hand in the middle of the cloth, and his hand disappeared, along with much of his arm. He retrieved the arm, which was still intact, and as he withdrew his hand it was holding a small coffer. He handed it to his daughter and told her "open it." She opened the box to find a six inch carving of a proud female centaur who looked to be not out of her teens. Adoven told her "her name is Xamanthe. I had her carved from details I provided. We rescued her from a wizard who was holding her captive. I hope that will help us make friends with her family and tribe. Perhaps you can write to her someday, and introduce yourself. She seemed a curious young lady, who reminded me of someone..." he trailed off, reaching to tickle his daughter. After she went up to bed, Adoven got serious, and told Vik the details he had left out. The Spriggans, the undead, the lich, the EYE....and the murdered Varnholders. It was late when he finished. He held Viktoria close to him as he walked up to their bedroom. He laments "Gods, I'm tired. But I hear that Henry is making good on his promise. Candlemere is awaiting me and I have so much preparation to do. But that's for tomorrow. Tonight, I'm tired. Though I do have some energy for..." his words cut off as he closes the bedroom door behind them.
 Over the next few days, Adoven throws himself into work, making plans and charting the future for V&A. At one point he asks Vik "would you like a seat at the table for House Lodkova? I think I may have the ability to make them more prominent in both Restov and New Stetvan, if they are interested. Can you find out for me, sweetheart?" He visits Friar Frug in his new friary and asks some pointed questions, as well as taking notes for expansions of Cayden's worship. He walks away with several flasks of holy water and spends a day shopping for magic gear in Tusk. At one point he runs into Robert and gives the man a bear hug, complimenting the fighter on his new gear and asking about the Military Academy. After a short conversation, Adoven shakes his head, saying "sorry, places to be. Good luck with your ventures." He traverses the city, coming to rest at the church of Pharasma. He asks to see a prelate. As he is ushered inside he waves to familiar faces as he passes by. The prelate sees him and asks "what can we do for you, Lord Adoven?" The merchant says "Lord Henry is sending me to Candlemere to cleanse the place and put the unquiet spirits to rest. I think that communication may be the key, not magics. Or perhaps a combination. To that end, I am hoping that someone here can teach me the language." "And what language is that?" Adoven pauses and answers "Necril. The language of the intelligent dead." The prelate looks shocked at first, replying "I am surprised. Not many know of its existence,  but we do have a few speakers here." Adoben smirks. "Thought as much. Hopefully I have time enough to learn the basics. Donation to the church for your services""....is both expected and welcome. Come, I'll introduce you to your new instructor."

Adoven spends downtime retraining for a new Language.
Domitius Aldori-Solanus
player, 829 posts
Half Elf Swordlord
AC:23 HP:55
Fri 10 Feb 2023
at 04:29
  • msg #14

Fuzzy:  Downtine 4718

Domitius had just enjoyed a luncheon with his fellow Swordlord Yasmin and on her suggestion had popped down to her sword school in Tusk.  She had a new student she thaought he may be interested to meet with.  A scion of House Khavortorov was foing his tour and had cjosen Tusk instead of spending his time in just Restov and Mivon.

Dom slipped in to watch the training session as the young man went through his practice.  He had the look of the Khavortorov family that was for sure.  He was well trained and had promise though if he was as close to the head of the family as Dom suspected then a career as an officer rather than duellist seemed more likely.

As the training session wound up Dom noticed an older man also watching, he wore the Khavortorov house colours and unless Dom was mistaken was the younger mans bodyguard.  Dom nodded to him in recognition before moving to talk to the younger man.  Radi Khavortorov was the name Yasmin had given him and if memory served he was the son of Dragonir, Captain of the White Dragons one of the premier mercenary companies of Brevoy.  As Dom approached the older man moved to join them “Senior Swordlord Domitius, may I introduce myself, Anzhel Markov of House Khavortorov and this is my ward Radi Khavortorov a pleasure to meet you.” He spoke with a respectful tone and Dom suspected as deliberate use of his title.

Dom nodded  “Master Anzhel, Lord Radi a pleasure to meet you both Swordlord Yasmine told me you where in town and suggested I make you acquaintance.  Perhaps you would both join me at the Mithral for dinner tonight, there are some things I would like to discuss pertaining to our shared heritage.”

Radi looked to the older man who nodded “It would be a pleasure  Swordlord Domitius, I’m sure my cousin would be interested to hear from you.  We had heard you had taken control of Varnhold and will protect Restov’s southern border.”

“You are well informed Lord Radi, I have indeen taken control of Varnhold though with the lands around Lake Siverstep we are using the name Sunsmarch.  I will protect Restov from the south and Midmarch from the east.  My intention is to provide new opportunities for the people of Rostland amd safety for all.  Perhaps this isn’t the best place to speak of such things.”  Dom looked around at the Mivonese who staffed the place. “Tonight around Seven bells?”

Radi nodded in agreement “Until then Swordlord, I had best go clean up.” He said with a smile.
This message was last edited by the GM at 08:53, Mon 20 Mar 2023.
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