Rianna knew the reputation of her people, both of them. She had long since left her nomadic lifestyle behind and her elven heritage was only in her blood. And yet she knew instantly that approaching the cripple was a mistake. She felt no sorrow towards the man for his affliction and she could not stop her muscles from tensing when he spoke.

Once on alert, she did not try to uncoil her muscles for she had long ago learned to trust her instincts, "Are you deaf as well as cripple? I was going to ask you if you were in need of a hand in looking for the missing children, but you take one look at my face and spew hatred from your mouth. So instead of talking with you about the ins and outs of the task at hand it seems you expect me to justify my reasoning for sharing the air with you." Her voice remains a monotone which holds neither anger nor any threatening undertones. He might as well be a rock that she has decided to converse with.

Marik restrain himself from blurting an insult in response and stays silent for a few seconds, digesting the information. As much as he hates to admit it, from a purely rational standpoint, it would make sense to team-up with somebody for the hunt. Especially if this someone could handle herself in a fight. There was also something that appear different with her compared to the others Ban Tuur he met before. This calm, these clothes...could she comes from the monastery?


"Funny. I've encountered many Ban Tuur before and they always seemed more interested in MAKING orphans than saving them." Marik reply. "So yes indeed, color me surprised. Why do you want to find these childrens?"
This message was last edited by the player at 10:27, Sun 26 June 2016.

Rianna shrugs, "Can you name a blade that does not an orphan make when used? Life does not end in death and yet everywhere I hear the tears and laments for those whom it has embraced. It is true that the Ban Tuur kill and are killed in turn. Imagine for a minute how the world could support all the life that it would contain if it's inhabitants where not culled from time to time. Death is a certainty and it is true that many meet it at an early age. But how is our discussion going to change the fate of those children on the wall? If you can answer me that I would be more than happy to sit here and debate my heritage and reasons until I die of old age." Her eyebrow raises slightly showing the most emotion you have seen her exhibit in the time she has stood before you. It lasts for a split second and she is a stony visage once again.

"Do not try to school me on the certainty of death and the laws of nature, horselord. I was learning them first-hand at least a century before you were even born" He replies. "But we can agree on something... discussions won't change the fate of these orphans. And as much as I hate to even consider it, a bit of help would indeed be useful for rescuing these childs."

He pauses.

"But the question still remains, especially after your little diatribe on the culling... Do you intend to save these children, or smash their heads to put them out of their misery?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:01, Thu 29 Sept 2016.

She speaks without expression, "I would suppose that answer hinges on how we find them. Death can be a mercy. Something you should have learned by now, but then age is not a sign of wisdom nor intelligence." She turns to head back to hammock armed with the knowledge that the elf's hatred of her is a flame that might never be extinguished, "Make no mistake in thinking that I feel any pity towards you due to your condition. I will assist in the search for the children but will not hesitate to do what is necessary." Finished she leaves the cripple's presence.

"No, I'm sure you won't, you know-it-all manure-eating filth" thinks Marik for himself, with a small smirk crossing his face. Thinking she's educated actually managed to make her even more insufferable than her stupider counterparts seeing gods everywhere. He hope they would find the children quickly...he didn't want to pass a minute more than necessary in her presence. Or maybe the fates would be kind and let her strangle herself in her hammock tonight.


Marik turns back to face Shakurd again.

"Sorry about that, Shakurd. Could you tell me again where do I go to find the Lantern Street Orphanage?
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:02, Thu 29 Sept 2016.

The dwarf remains quiet as Marik and Rianna talk, but as things get heated her stance shifts and it's obvious that she's ready to breakup the pair. As the two part ways she shakes her head and takes a drink from something she's got stashed behind the bar.

"Sure love, its down at the corner of Lantern and Avana  ..." she gives you directions which you feel you understand enough to get to where you want to go.

"Many thanks to you, Shakurd. That will be useful". Marik then leans forward on the bar and speak with his voice lowered.


 [Private to Shakurd Helmoral: "Also, if I may. I've heard talks about something called the Dead Kingdom and I was wondering...with you receiving so many adventurers and travelers each day. Ever heard something about that around here? It it how we refers to the lost cities of Dwarves and Elves around here, or is it something else?"]
This message was last edited by the player at 17:20, Tue 28 June 2016.

Filimena finds herself a hammock in a quiet corner of the room. She removes her still-damp cloak and hangs it by a hook next to the hammock, before climbing into it. She lies down, holding her backpack against her body like a pillow, and tries to fall asleep. It isn't hard. She has no memory of what she did today -- or indeed if it's only today she doesn't remember -- but she's exhausted. An early night's rest will do her good. First thing tomorrow morning, she'll ask the innkeeper where the Lantern Street Orphanage is.

The tavern keep takes another drink of her hidden beverage, she then leans in and speaks quietly to the elf.

[Private to Marik: "Dead kingdom that stead is east o' 'ere loads days. Used tae be th' Southern Sanction, everything wis gaun weel. Folks wur living 'n' workin' 'n' th' lik' ... Then th' druid made some pact 'n' unleashed a naustie spell oan th' hail steid. A' body died 'n' turned intae undead. Th' guardians thare patrol th' area keeping living 'n' deid separate while making sure th' deid dinnae harm th' natural order. " her accent turns mighty thick, perhaps it's the drink. ]


[Private to GM: Dead Kingdom that place is east of here several days. Used to be the Southern Sanction, everything was going well. Folks were living and working and the like ... then the druid made some pact and unleashed a nasty spell on the whole place. Everyone died and turned into undead. The Guardians there patrol the area keeping the living and dead separate while making sure the dead don't harm the natural order.]

OOC: If nothing else ... we'll move on.

---

The rest of the evening passes quietly.  Morning comes and brings with it an overcast day with a hefty side of drizzling rain. The Scoundrel and Dirk is hopping even despite the weather - seems being near one of the main entries to biggest city in the local area is good for business.

[Private to Filimena the Gentle: As you sleep a riddle comes to you which you recall when you wake up

The locks are key to finding them
Look beyond the curtain, below the gate,
Beware the doors with teeth.
Descend into the malachite 'hold,
Where precious life is bought with gold.
Half a dwarf binds them, but no for long

]
This message was last edited by the GM at 16:53, Thu 30 June 2016.

Shakurd and her crew are bouncing around the common room taking breakfast orders and checking on the various folks who are sleeping in the hammocks in the room. The Guardians of the Green and the soldiers who made the disturbance last night are no where to be seen. The dragonborn is causally playing a strangely soothing tune on his, er her er it's simsimiyya though the brightly dressed minstrel isn't singing currently.

Rising and stretching, Marcus begins the laborious task of checking and re-checking his scale mail armor as he dons each piece.  Then, gathering his weapons and belongings, he sees about having a quick, quiet breakfast in the common room before heading to apply for a position with the caravan guard.

Rianna rises at about the same time as Marcus and when he seats himself to eat his breakfast she pulls up a chair opposite the man, "I hate bothering you like this, but I couldn't help but see you looking at the flyers last night. Don't know which one you planned on following up so I was just wondering if you were also looking for the missing orphans? If so I figured you, me & the cripple could all head out to find the place together. I figure he has the location from the innkeep so we should just be able to wait on him to attach his peg legs and we can be off." She isn't smiling or frowning and in truth doesn't seem to be concerned for the orphans. If one were looking for a motive it would seem that duty rather than emotion was driving her to try and find the children.

"What am I doing here?" Filimena whispers. All around her is black. Almost immediately the ground begins to tilt heavily towards her left. She stumbles and begins to fall, from nothingness into nothingness. The voices grow around her, waves crashing against invisible cliffs. Distant bells ring, growing ever closer and louder. "What am I doing here?" She asks again, yelling this time into the void. At once she hits the ground. The impact knocks the breath out of her. She is surrounded by a deafening crash as the voices and the bells, almost like physical objects, like fine china and crystal, dash themselves against the ground around her, shattering violently. Then, it is silent. She is blind. She pulls herself up and begins to crawl, feeling the ground around her, pricking herself against sharp fragments of sound. With each prick, words seem to coalesce in her mind, thickly, like mud, or like... like porridge...

Filimena jolts awake to the sound of breakfast being served. She looks around her and sees that most of the inn's occupants have also awaken, and most are eating. She must have been much more tired than she'd thought. She doesn't usually oversleep. Still groggy from her sleep, she gets up, grabs her backpack, heads to a washing basin that has been placed in a corner of the inn, and begins to wash up. It does little to wake her up up. Last night's dream weighs heavily on her mind. The voices. They'd been telling her something. But what? She finishes washing and stands before the basin, thinking. Slowly the words return to her, assembling themselves into a strange verse.

Suddenly, there is a cough. Filimena turns around to find a man standing behind her glaring at her with an annoyed expression. She frowns and steps aside. Returning to the common room, she motions to the innkeeper, and then begins looking for an empty seat. She spots one and heads towards it. Sitting down, she find herself beside the well-armed human man she'd seen last night. Across from him is a half-elven woman, who seems to have been saying something to him just before Filimena had arrived.

Though he raises an eyebrow as the strangely-clad woman approaches -- some elven blood in her, he supposes, as he glances at her features -- Marcus does not otherwise react, instead simply continuing to dip a large, hard biscuit into his porridge, gnawing upon it with deliberate patience.  No longer a soldier, he's begun trying to train himself to stop shoveling his food down his throat in a hurry.  He has plenty of time now.  Too much time.

As the woman begins to question him about his intentions, however, he sighs lightly, setting down the biscuit and reaching for the ale that the serving girl had provided to Marcus with his meal.  Taking a mouthful, he swallows, then finally meets her gaze.

"No," Marcus says, curtly.  "My intention is to sign on with the merchants' guard.  It's good pay, and simple work -- the only kind of work I'm trained for.  I'm no investigator, and I'm new to Titan's Gate.  Looking for lost children is the responsibility of the local constabulary anyway, I'd reckon.  But good luck," he adds, somewhat dismissively.

Glancing down at his plate, Marcus reaches for a fork, intent on spearing a piece of thick, greasy sausage.  It is then that he notices that the thin waif he'd seen last night has managed to sidle into the chair beside him.  Doing his best to ignore both females without seeming overtly rude, he continues to eat, chewing slowly and carefully.

Marik was already up since the very first lights of dawn, while also being one of the last one to go to bed. After talking to Shakurd, he had exchanged a few words with the dragonborn after his performance, asking him about Zir and how to travel to such a foreign land. Afterward, he had rented a private room and retired for the night. As soon as he felt secure to do so, he had opened the window giving on the back alley and allowed Rani to enter with him.


With his guardian by it side, he had spent the entire night sitting next to her on the floor, not even touching the bed. He had spent hours unpacking, furbishing and repacking his equipment, before falling into a deep transe.


Awoke before most of the inn custmers, Marik had spent the early hours of the morning making small adjustments to his wooden legs with a sharp knife. He picked into his own rations for breakfast, sharing some salted deer meat whith Rani accompanied by some Lembas bread and tea.

 Having sometimes traded with merchants in the past, Marik knew urban activities usually start a few hours after dawn. Humans need more sleep than elves. He saddled Rani and opened the window. His animal companion jumped out, hitting the ground with a muffled sound, before disappearing swiftly in a branching dark alley. She had probably found a fat pigeon or a rat to accompany breakfast.

Marik meditated some time beside the window, listening to the sounds of the city. Once he started hearing carts rolling in the streets and chatter coming form the street, he estimated it was late enough to start his investigation. He put on his equipment and his wooden legs and opened the door out of his room. There he carefully made his way down the stairs giving on the common room, his peg legs making a distinguishable "knock...knock" on his way down.

On his way down, he recognized Filimena at the end of the room, standing right next to the armored human that was standing next to the hearth yesterday. And sitting before him is the half-elven woman, the Ban-Thuur, with whom he grudgingly teamed up for the search. A dulled burning sensation hit his chest again.

"Think of the children" he thinks for himself while calming down. "Think of the children...".



Marik start making his way across the room.


[Private to DM5: Wow, that was some mighty accent indeed XD Had to read aloud to pick up the words.  Julian of Kord would be proud!]
This message was last edited by the player at 21:00, Sun 03 July 2016.

Seeing the crippled elf, Rianna nods to the human and rises from her seat. Heading over to Marik she stops well out of arms reach of the man, "I thought he might be coming with, but no. The Halfling lady does seem interested though." She rests her hands at her sides, but keeps a watchful eye on the racist elf.

Marik nods the head in agreement, his face expressionless.


"Fine by me. Then let's be on our way. I'm pretty fast on my feets, so try to keep up..." he says, as he carefully shamble his way to the door giving on the back alley, his left leg rattling at each step on the floor.

OOC: Er. Have to meta-game a bit, because I'm a bit unsure of what to do. Filimena does not actually know Anastrianna and Marik are also interested in the missing orphans case. She went to bed pretty much immediately after figuring out the voices in her head the evening before. I'll just do what I'd originally planned, which is to have her approach Shakurd after breakfast about the way to the orphanage, and either Shakurd can tell her Marik asked the same thing, or Filimena can bump into Anastrianna and Marik there. Either way, though, Anastrianna's statement would be a bit out of place?

Filimena watches the half-elven woman get up and speak to the elf she'd spoken to briefly last evening. She herself hurried through breakfast, eager to make up for lost time. She finishes her porridge, nods to the heavily-armed man she'd sat down next to, got up, and approached the innkeeper, who's been busy serving her guests, but at this moment is taking a quick break grabbing herself a drink by the bar.

"Pardon me, ma'am," she greets the innkeeper. "I don't suppose you could tell me where I might find the Lantern Street Orphanage?" She motions with her head towards the notice board.

Passing near the bar, on his way to the back alley door, Marik hears Filimena asking Shakurd for the same directions he asked yesterday. He pause a moment, and turn his head toward the halfling.


"The Orphanage? We are going just there at the moment. You are free to tag along if you want" he says, continuing to slowly make his way across the common room.

Filimena blinks, surprised. They're heading to the orphanage too? She thinks. She's about to ask him why, but it's too late, he's halfway out the door, followed close behind by the half-elven lady. Filimena hesitates momentarily before springing towards, glancing back to thank the innkeeper.

With Filimena and Rianna in tow, Marik push the door giving on the back alley. The alley is now well-lit under the morning sun and smells of moisture and urine. A snoring drunkard is still sleeping against barrels lined up against the wall.


Marik whistle a few high-pitched notes and wait.


There is a sudden movement on the left, coming from slightly obscured branching alley. A large, muscular feline form with golden eyes and light brown fur appear before them, a bloodied mass of feathers in her mouth.

"Of course" thinks Marik.

As the panther makes her way toward the group, they can see a saddle on her back, strapped under her belly with two leather belts, two bags resting on her sides and what looks like a bed roll packed on her back.


Right upon seeing Rianna, the panther immediately drop her meal and starts growling menacingly, with bared teeth. Her back becomes arched and she looks like she is ready to pounce.

Marik calmly advances toward her, and pass his hand on her neck, saying a few words in elvish. The large puma calms down and straighten up again, her growl now only a low, faint rumbling sound.

Marik is still talking to the panther, but now in common so that Filimena and Rianna can understand.

"Calm down, Rani. She is not our enemy."

He turns toward Rianna.

"Let's try to keep it that way..."

Then, with the swiftness and elegance of something done everyday for years, Marik hop on Rani back. His posture instantly changes. A little hunched and constantly looking at the floor when he was on his wooden legs, he is now proudly standing straight with his head high. Only when he was standing with Rani was he feeling complete.


"All right, let's go."


With only a small inflexion of Marik knee, Rani turns toward the exit of the alley and begins to trot gently toward the orphanage, following Marik directions.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:22, Fri 08 July 2016.

Filimena follows close behind the elf, bewildered at somehow having landed herself in some kind of adventuring party, a situation to which she is not at all accustomed. A few times she finds herself wanting to ask them about why they're headed to the orphanage. She assumes that they too have an interest in finding the lost orphans. Then she realises she doesn't actually know any of their names, and decides to remain silent, rather than affect any kind of awkward introduction, although she does recall having told the elf her name the evening before, and also recalls his implication that they'd previously met. Instead, she looks around at the city around her, all the while contemplating the verses that come to her in her dream last night.

OOC: Going to break y'all up so

Moving Marcus to Guard Duty or Bust
Moving Filmena and Marik to Lantern Street Orphanage