Santio nodded;  for what it was worth, he agreed with Brohm.

Tidelan had been eager to get back to town, so he deferred to Brohm's senior judgement with a respectful nod and an affirmative noise from deep within his throat.

He began to realize he had been thinking of this newcomer as someone not as capable as himself. He decided to change his mind on that topic, as he realized their scout had been more than sufficient in everything he had done for them on this journey.

Tidelan was tired from the long walk, but he was willing to force himself to town. He could nearly see the familiar locations of the place, such as Town Hall, and Darla's Inn... He may be exhausted when he got there, but he would have so much more time to rest... And rest he would, in the warmth of a hearth, and not in the bitter cold of the vicious winds.

Verbannt had been pensive and quiet during the whole walk back, but he spoke up when Brohm returned.

"We go, and tell the Governor Smith of what we have seen."

He rumbled, continuing his steady pace. The others were slowing him down, but he did not mind. It was better to travel with the others at his back.

"Do you wish to settle the matter of your Clan now, or after we return? My intent was to make the Goblins understand that we were a Clan of outcasts, unified under the banner of Smith. It was not my place though, to speak of what has happened to your place among your people that brought you here."

Despite the genasi's excitement, his eyelids began to droop as he crossed the extra distance to town, and his breath came to him labored.

Brohms' brow darkens as Lukas speaks.  "So you claim ignorance of the insult you give yo call me Clanless when you knew better?". He rumbles in the voice of an emminent landslide, just ere it happens.  His volume, however, is low.  His stance is neutral, and solid like a carved pillar of stone.

"I knew it an insult when I spoke it."

Verbannt said instantly, no hint of deception in his voice.

"Now I seek to clear the air as to the why it was spoken.  It was not spoken to you, but to the Goblins, to make them think that we were unified under the banner of Smith. However, just because the barb was not meant for you, does not mean it did not sting. If such deception demands redress, let us have it here."
This message was last edited by the player at 22:19, Sat 09 Jan 2021.

Tidelan watched Lukas and Brohm from a fair distance with an expression of curiosity and a glint of pride in his eyes. This was how things should be settled. Directly and with honor.

Not with schemes and dirty tricks. He shuddered as he thought of Varna's upper crust.

He recognized that it wasn't his place to intercede in this conflict, even if he did disagree with it, but if one or more of his companions got seriously hurt, he was ready to rush in and rescue them from the border of death.

Brohms' face hardens, as Lukas states his knowledge that he knew the nature of the insult before he spoke.  "I will fulfill the contract, and bring everyone safely back to Smith.". His gravelly voice deep with anger.  "When that is done, and reports have been finished, we will meet outside the walls.  There we will have our duel, till Honor has been satisfied."

Boneclaw took out a measuring tape and noted the measurements of both Brohm and Lukas for their caskets.

Santio's eyebrows raised.  This was an  ... interesting ... turn of events.

Verbannt nodded, accepting the terms.

Putting his stuff back in his backpack Boneclaw pointed in the general direction they were heading and gestured for the others to get going.

Tidelan was eager to get moving, less he fall asleep where he stood.

With an wrathful glare at Lukas, Brohm turns towards town.  Rumbling in a rockslide voice "Let's go.". So saying, he resumes scouting ahead.

The remainder of the trip, tense though it was, went smoothly. You arrive at the entrance of Smith's Gambit after dark. Huge braziers illuminate the entrance, and three guards sand on either side. One recognizes Lukas, Tidelan and Boneclaw (I'm assuming Brohm regrouped with the others once inside the perimeter of town, so you all arrived together.) "Bringin' more goblins, eh, you three? Better take 'em to meet Smith. Lot 'o people in town ain't happy about all the goblins movin' in, but if Smith says they're okay, that's good enough for most of us."

Tidelan studied the appearance of the man who spoke. His features, his posture, his gestures, his tone, his accent, his voice, his condition, and his expression. He may have looked exacting, but Tidelan gazed upon him as he would gaze upon any tree in a forest. It was that may have resembled indifference, but to the druid it was clearly the opposite. Trees exist, as do guardsmen. Thus, they both must be dealt with.

Tidelan's mind began to think much on the armed man's statement. He wasn't a politician, so he was aware that for another that statement may have been more useful to them than to him

What it did make him think about was that he and his group had been bringing the more monstrous races of the world back to this foreign little settlement. Yes, to him it was still foreign. That wasn't what he pondered though, he thought briefly of his life back in Varna on Farrad. Varna was a society that appeared outwardly simple and fancy, but the politics behind it all were brutal and ruthless. Even the lower class schemed in ways that honest folk do not. They did not vie for seats in power, but for whatever personal pride they could rip from their neighbor's hands.

Not all his people. Not all of them. He had to remind himself this. He knew that the capital of Varnados was the political center of the world, and he had heard tales of it's beauty and glory. It made him suspicious, but he couldn't really know what it was like until he had meditated within it's walls. Then, Gaea would break through the pathetic constructs of man, whether made of stone or ideas, and would reach his heart.

Where he had grown up had been just a tiny, humble, logging town. For him, it had been like being thrust naked and unprepared into a court meeting, or so he assumed. When he was youngest, he had had to quickly learn that people could bite not just with their teeth but with their pale replications of the ley.

It was the thing that unnerved him most about government. Leylines were Gaea's veins Herself, and they spread her power amongst the world. His magic came from Her blood directly, and so he owed her not just allegiance, but endless adoration. His mortal heart did what it could to pay his respects. Unfortunately, other mortals had long mocked her will by creating their laws and traditions. They acted like leylines, they permeated everything. But they were false, and for that he wished to call all of society an evil abomination. Though, he knew that was false. Because, society still fell to Nature's Wrath, yet Gaea did not actively call it against them. Father Time's Passage was what did them in. This meant they were not unnatural enough to oppose Gaea, but She still chose to leave their constructed worlds standing. This meant that Tidelan had no right to go against them in such a way either.

These thoughts flashed briefly and faintly through his wise mind, along with possible conclusions drawn from the guard he had studied. He looked at him and realized why he had begun to think so heavily. He had needed to say something to the brave commoner, but he had needed help to decide how to proceed. He knew now, that he would proceed with honesty.

The water genasi stood tall despite his exhaustion, and met the man's eyes with a stare of solidarity and truthful amicability to say "Neither am I used to living with these monstrous folks, in my experience we never share walls. Except for the wall that is the boundary between us. A wall built from the wasted dead... they looked a lot like you and your companions do, my friend" he let out a short, barkish laugh that was more wistful than humorous.

Under his breath, and in a language he never knew he could speak, but which to him felt like a tongue he was more comfortable in than any other, he whispered, "[Language unknown: Erethecom Mo atiintinthat ur ssun-whli]".

Coming out, it sounded like rushing, angry water.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:34, Sun 24 Jan 2021.

Brohm grunted in acknowledgement of the guard.  "We were on our way to Erret Smith, to report on our task.". He rumbles in a voice like grating stone.

As usual, Santio was quiet and observant, on the edge of the gathering.

The guard shrugged and said, "People are people. Some good, some terrible. No offense, but goblins don't look any more like monsters to me than you do. If one could be half as useful to the town as one of you folks, they're good in my book."

The other guard scoffs at him, but he ignores it.

"Go on in, I'm sure Smith's been keen to get your report."

Tidelan couldn't hide the shock in his eyes, that caused them to waver like an unsteady tide. So, he looked away. But, he did not look down from the common guard man.

He felt a primal storm brewing in his veins, and he knew this wasn't a time to have his head clouded with such rage, which was to be reserved for battle.

He ground his teeth and a low growl rose from his chest unbidden. He tried to push away the shock and disbelief, so that it did not become true anger. Maybe the basta- the man had been referring to his group as a whole. That would be insulting, but it was believable.

Tidelan didn't believe he was a monster. He couldn't, it had never occurred to him before. He had to close his throat to stop his growl from releasing into a whine. He wanted to reach towards the man's throat and show him what a monster would do. He could probably kill him right here.

Maybe his friends wouldn't back him up, but he thought they wouldn't turn on him. He could take the guardsmen, and his friends... Smith would be mad, probably. He'd probably have to leave. Did he care?

Yes...  he found he did. He was happy enough here, at least for now. To burn bridges so soon would be brash. Monsters were always brash, but people didn't have to be.

Tidelan knew he looked simply like a humanoid male but with a blue cast. It was more otherworldly than it was monstrous. Perhaps this was all just a language barrier. He didn't know, and he couldn't seem so weak as to ask. His hands twitched, and the new veins in his neck pulsed with effort. He couldn't get this angry, even if things were different now. Even though now he could fight, he still shouldn't. Not these men.

Tidelan knew logically this was an emotional response that came from his own self-doubt, and that there were a dozen things the man could have meant other than something that would make Tidelan hostile... But he had offered no offense, which meant he had been worried that it would be seen as offensive. Was the man worried Tidelan would hate him for his preferences, or was he truly calling him out for what it meant to be a monster.

He could sort this all out, he knew it. But he couldn't do that here. Not as they were beckoning him to enter. It would make him look, and also feel, incredibly petulant. He wasn't petulant, he never had been even if people had thought so. And now, he didn't need to be.

The druid was still angry, oh so angry. He wasn't even hiding it anymore. His growl had been released when he had opened his airway to take a sudden breath, as his heart had beat more strongly against his chest, and demanded it.

He was feeling violent, and he didn't know how to rid himself of these urges.

He stared long at the guard and the one who had scoffed, and memorized their faces even further than before. That was enough for now. Let them think it a threat. It was insurance that he could deal with them later, if he could not let this go. Maybe dealing with them would be an inquiry for clarification. Or maybe, just maybe, Tidelan would be finding himself a new home after leaving this settlement covered in human blood on the same tattered leathers he had entered in, and carrying a stricken head impaled on his staff.

He very, very carefully made his way with the group. But he stayed in the very back. He stayed absolutely quiet, his eyes hard, unblinking and straight ahead, as he kept a cold distance between each of his friends, which he truly hoped any passerbys would take as the warning that it was.

If he let himself get set off, it would cause him equal harm too.

OOC: Don't really know how this got here, lol. I kind of dramatized it up a lot, but I don't really plan on having Tidelan kill any civilians, lmao.

Also, since the DM seems to have forgotten about it in my last two megaposts, I'll remind them that Tidelan was paying close attention to these fellows details. Since I don't really want to interrupt the narrative to make the DM give a physical description of multiple NPCs, I'm totally fine with accepting any details Tidelan noticed as a PM. Of course, if that doesn't sound like something they want to spend time writing up, we can just say Tidelan would know the guys if he sees them again?

Tidelan has a fairly high perception, so it's honestly better to assume that he's generally noticing obvious things like what people look like and what kind of trees are nearby, rather than me being tedious for us all and writing down each time he's paying attention, ha ha :D

This is pretty interesting, because it gives a lot of possible ways for Tidelan to interact with some unimportant NPCs. An observant character in any street-level situation like that is one of the quickest ways to give flavor to so much of a settlement. Being among the underclass of Smith's Gambit is something I've actually been really interested in, since so far I've not seen it from any view other than among numerous (mostly foreign) adventuring parties and hotel staff accustomed to dealing with traveling PCs

Basically, I'm just trying to get a more textured feel of the town. This will be very important when I began constructing Tidelan's pit fighting organization, since I'll need to have at least some background on the setting's available resources, architecture, and other important things.

So, I figured getting some physical details about commoners was a good place to begin taking that dive into the setting! Figuring out their attitudes will probably come later, considering how slow PbP is lol
This message was last edited by the player at 05:06, Mon 25 Jan 2021.

Verbannt eyed Tidelan wearily as the Water Genasi growled, turning to face his companion without moving to stop him. In truth, he had received far warmer a reception than he ever would have imagined here. This motley band of survivors took all kinds, and he had seen more strange things in the month he had stood under the banner of Smith than he had in a small lifetime among his Clan. Perhaps it was just that the folk of this tribe were from near and far, where as everything he had known before had been contained to the South. Whatever it was, he found he minded the words of the guard not at all. Many feared Goblinoids, and he was of that wide and varied race. In his experience, humans were no more or less wicked than Bugbears. The bonds of Race were not as strong as Clan, but they held.

Why would the guard not consider them monsters? Tidelan was certainly monstrous when his rage overtook him.

So he watched silently as the Druid contained his anger, and nodded once approvingly when he rejoined them. He was wise enough not to say anything, merely meeting the other Skinwalker in the eye, then turned and walked towards the Town Hall.

The young guard looked roughly 17, with shaggy hair and a wisp of a beard struggling to grow. He was a handsome youth, though he had the scars one would expect from a seasoned warrior. When Tidelan growled, he said, "I'm sorry, friend. Seems like I offended you after all. What I meant was you can't really tell who's a monster by lookin' at 'em. See, back home where I grew up, little Amalekian town nobody heard of until, well, you heard of the Butcher of Belvin? You know what he was known for before he got that name? Women would come from the city to buy his wares, but he wasn't sellin' nothin' special. They was just plain ol' shoes." There was something personal about the way he told the story.

The other guard, a few years older, had dark, slicked back hair which reflected the torchlight due to whatever product he used. He was exceedingly well groomed, especially for his position, with a well manicured mustache and goatee, and flawless pale skin.

OOC: Pel Starnish, AKA The Butcher of Belvin was a serial killer who had gained worldwide notoriety about 10 years ago in a small town in western Amelekia. A cobbler and a widower, he was believed to have lured over 20 women from out of town and murdered them. Authorities believe his wife was his first victim, and all the others were said to resemble her. His young son, said to be his spitting image, was taken into foster care as a witness, but disappeared before the trial, never to be heard from again. Nonetheless, Starnish was found guilty (he confessed to some of the killings, practically bragged about them,) and executed for his crimes.
This message was last edited by the GM at 02:01, Tue 26 Jan 2021.

Tidelan stared back, and did his best to listen to what the man said. It was all empty sentiments to him until the third last foreign word, spoken in a lazy tongue. He was worried somewhere beyond the conscious that if this man pushed, Tidelan would make a big mistake.

That third-to-last word though, it cleared up enough for Tidelan that he could hope he had assumed the man's intentions wrongly. If the man wasn't truly speaking of his appearance, but of what he knew he had been doing, and what he could do... then Tidelan should not be angered.

Still, the rage was not quick to vanish. He tried to bundle it up to suffocate it, but that just caused it to flare, much unlike a smothered bonfire, more like a captured beast.

He let enough of it go so that he could think clearly to respond. What came out of his mouth had a tone of fear, and he didn't realize until after he had spoken, "You are correct."

The foreign man pushed back the memories that began to creep in. Not the time. Not the time. Not the time.

The man had begun to speak again. A perfect excuse for Tidelan to divert away from his own troubles to those of an other's.



Tidelan listened carefully, and absorbed each word. The anger was gone now. Just sympathy. It wasn't patronizing, because in truth it was closer to empathy. Tidelan understood what the man was saying, and he felt it. But, his tone belied a whole other meaning to the words, but Tidelan did not push.

For, the genasi always did always respond in like if he could. The man had possibly went against his better judgement and apologized. That showed respect. Tidelan would show respect with him and acknowledge his pain but not pry. It would be cruel, and Tidelan was never cruel, only ruthless.

After all had been said Tidelan simply bowed his head, ever-so-slightly. It was a small concession, but those who knew the genasi knew how much it had cost him. Not only that, but it was greatly rare. The only ones in the settlement he had before conceded to were Lukas when he was Group Leader for the time.

It was different from his concession to Smith. That was automatic, but it wasn't respectful. Neither was it disrespectful. He did not spite Smith for his control, but he did not know him as a man well enough to bow. Not nearly.

He didn't fool himself to having known Lukas either, nor this fellow. As the man himself had said, and Tidelan had whole-heartedly agreed but with little enthusiasm, people were often not what they seemed. No, he had given a bow because the man had shown himself to be respectable in this moment, as had Lukas many times. If later, either faultered in a severe way, Tidelan would no longer bow for some time.

It may mean nothing to them, but he hoped it did. Because it mattered to him.

The one problem that Tidelan realized he still hadn't resolved internally was why he had been so upset at being called outwardly monstrous in such a way. He knew he was monstrous when he killed, and when he returned covered in blood. But this was a diplomatic mission. There may have been rumors, but still... was he truly--

No, he had solved that. The man had meant to harm, that was Tidelan's decided interpretation. Anything less generous would not allow him to continue with this show of faith. It would be a show of blood and foolishness instead.

So, he did not ask if the man had meant to call him hideous. Monsters would hideous, and Tidelan was not hideous. Still, he may be a monster...

Why did this matter to him? He wanted to believe that he cared about his outward appearance because it mattered to others, and therefore could be a tool for him to avoid victimhood...

But... he didn't believe that. Not yet. He hated to even consider it, but he had to do so, or he would not be deserving of his own wisdom... He hated to consider it... but...

Was Tidelan vain?

Tidelan stopped looking back and continued his march. Now, he was not hot with anger... but cold with dread. He could swallow this more easily... but it was a far worse emotion.

Boneclaw kept his mouth shut but from what little he knew of the Belvin Butcher story the man had a son who had disappeared before the trial and he couldn't help wonder whether the guard's name was originally Starnish before he arrived in this outpost of civilization.
"You can't really tell who's a monster by lookin' at 'em". He glanced back at the guard and glimpsed at his shoes.
"Indeed".

(would the guard be around 27 by any chance?)

Before I forget again: Congratulations on finishing the quest! Hope you enjoyed it!

Each of you receives 1200 xp and 300GP!

OOC: 17. He would have been a young boy when the Butcher was captured, as was the the Butcher's son, whose name didn't spread like his father's. Rumors simply suggested he ran away rather than testify, or was murdered as part of a cover-up, or something about shapeshifting lizardmen, because whatever happens, it gets blamed on shapeshifting lizardmen.