Let the curtains rise on our glorious tale of a young man with a beautiful Fallen Crest.
In the 5^th year of the Gelimerian Empire, Gaut Deimos, the emperor, has ruled his new realm with a firm compassion. Gaut Deimos, and those loyal to his cause, planned a swift coup d'etat taking only three days to fully eliminate or convert all those with the power to oppose him. Only three days to safely sit upon the throne. Only three days to cure the land of the Angelica Plague devastating the people. On the 6^th day of the 6^th month, the Kingdom of Furseo was nothing more than a name. Gaut Deimos had solidified his rule over the people. To oppose his reign now would lead to harsh abuse and harassment from your fellow man, not the governing force.

However during such an uplifting time, not all are better off. One such man is named Lionell Del Core. Born to a family of knights, his life's path was laid before his birth. But Lionell would have had it no other way. To become a valiant warrior, to defend his home and king, to be honorable and just, as was his father. Those were the goals of young Lionell's life, from his birth well into his squirehood. Being trained by his father's old comrade in arms, Sir Primo D'Antoni, Lionell would go on to learn many tactics to maneuver around the battlefield. Spending years away from his home, only seeing his father at certain knightly events, never sincerely meeting his younger siblings, Lionell still proved himself as a true knight. While most squires wouldn't enter knighthood until their 20^th birthday, his accomplishments and deeds put him on the path to swear his oaths on his 16^th.

Shortly before the Gilimerian take over, Sir Primo sent Lionell to Augusto Salvato, the leader of a small mercenary company. Sir Primo was well known for his "gut feeling more accurate than a map of the stars." Augusto took Lionell in as a favor to Sir Primo, but Lionell was forced to earn his keep by taking on jobs. Making just enough to get by on his own, he never fully committed to a new life with the company. He still longs for a life where he can live with his parents and siblings. If it wasn't for Sir Primo's words convincing him not to return home, "you would be dead", or so says Augusto.

Now, a time like any other, Augusto visits Lionell with word of a new job. "If you pass on this one, I'll kill you myself. Now get out of bed punk." The faint smell of burning tobacco slowly fills his lungs as Lionell awakens. Sitting in the window sill if Augusto in his battle ready attire, a freshly lit rolled cigarette in his mouth. "Well come on, I need to talk to you," he says before sliding off into the open courtyard of the inn at which Lionell has been staying. He's been helping the elderly woman that owns it take care of general maintenance in exchange for a room on the second floor.
This message was last edited by the GM at 04:49, Tue 12 May 2020.

In reply to ThatDMYeah (msg # 1):

The baited breath of desperation would beat frantically past his lips as the young squire made strained strides through the friendly villa that had momentarily accommodated the young squire and his mentor. Sir Primo was indeed right to trust his gut feeling, however the flames of war licked their way so quickly even this deep into Furseo. Fire reflected off Lionell's eyes as he watched the buildings around him burn with such savagery only realized through conquest and pillaging. Spotting an elf, they young warrior unsheathed his blade, taking in heavy and fierce breaths he let out a loud scream. Though before he could act on his aggression there was a sudden yank that pulled his sword arm back as he was forcefully turned around to look at a face he had just recently grow to know, that of Augusto. Without a word he was relatively helplessly dragged away, surely out of respect to his mentor's request.

"No!" The young Lionell screamed. "I'll! I'll kill them! I'll kill those monsters! Unhand me!" Struggle as he might he was incapable of freeing himself from his new charge's grasp as the smells of burning infrastructure filled his nose. The sensation was painful and suddenly more real than he could imagine.

Lionell's eyes blinked open to see a haze above him as he started to sit up groggily. "Oh... morning Augusto..." Though before he could really have a proper exchange with him the man had already dropped from the second story building into the courtyard. The young merc kicked his feet over the side of the bed and rolled his neck rubbing it. He gave out a little scoff as he shook his head at the man's rather commanding tone. Jumping out of bed he began fitting himself in his hide leather armor, tailored specifically for him. As he tightened it, for a moment it was just a slight bit tighter than the last time he prepped for fight. "Ugh... Maybe I'm past due for another outing..." he muttered to himself as he worked his way downstairs.

A mostly redhaired elderly dwarf woman was working hard at cleaning the foyer of her better than modest corner of the village, her head nodding up seeing Lionell. "Leo!" she called out hobbling over to him. "Will you open this jar son?" her accent was rather distinct and spoke with a hurried tone, that of someone with a line up of chores to complete.

"Oh... sure Ralvila" he said taking the jar sliding it open with a distinctive pop. "What is this" he asked taking a sniff then pulling it away with a choke. "You can't eat it that's for sure" he remarked a she grabbed it from him.

"Foolish boy not all things in jars can be eaten! This is a sort of cleaner I bought from ye merchants! They went n' told me that this'll make the wood shine like gold!" she remarked as she began pouring some of the concoction on a rag as she began buffering the table with distinctive squeaks.

Lionell laughed a bit. "Well hopefully they don't pray after naive' dwarves."

"What was that Lionell? I don't thin' I heard you right!"

"Nothing Ral!" he called back as he jogged out, his sheath and sword flopping on his back in small amounts with each step that he took. In a matter of moments he found himself, fully dressed and battle ready in front of Augusto. "So... Augusto what's got you so worked up that made you want to drag me out of bed?"
This message was last edited by the player at 07:40, Tue 12 May 2020.

As Lionell steps out of the inn, the cool chill of the morning greets him kindly. He can just barely make out his breath as he jogs along. The smell of pumpkin coming from Ralvila's kitchen. The song of the morning beasts seems to be quieter than they had been in quite some time. It's clear that autumn is here.

Standing before our young hero is a red scaly dragonborn wearing no apparent armor of any kind. Simply sporting a vest, loose fitting pants, a slightly torn black tricorne, a few pouches on his waist, and a lit cigar casually laid between his lips. If this wasn't so far inland, one would assume he flew a black sail and terrorized the sea. Either way, you wouldn't want to bump into him in an alley at night.

"It took ya long 'nough," he gripes in a low growly voice, sitting on the edge of the beautiful stone fountain placed in the middle of the courtyard; offhandedly looking around. "We got two jobs. They're both big. Real big. Me 'n the boys are gonna go cross the sea to Gedora. Won't have time for the other. That's where you come in. This is a simple job. A big wig from the theocracy." The Pontalian Theocracy shares the northern and eastern border with Gilmer, and is a trustworthy ally to the emperor.

"Get in good with him, and you'll be set for a long while," he pauses for a beat. "But," he immediately stops again and stands up. As he now stands in front of Lionell, his towering height is truly a thing of wonder. When their eyes meet, Lionell can suddenly and clearly feel Augusto's burning intensity through the thin shroud of smoke rising from the lit cigar. Augusto's eyes peering deep into his soul, just like the night they met. The night he'll never forget. And for a moment, the chill is gone. The smell of pumpkin and tabacco, gone. Time, gone. Not even air seems to exist as Lionell can't find a breathe to take. All that remains is Augusto's dominating presence.

He commands with a growl, "You can't do it alone. I need you to have someone that can keep you under control. Do you understand me boy?" He walks back and sits casually on the edge of the fountain once more. Time finally resumes as a slight chill runs down Lionell's spine. Was it because he was reminded of the chilly autumn wind? Or perhaps...?

Continuing to casually browse around the courtyard, Augusto resumes once again, "Can't have ya failin' a job with my name on the line."

Lionell had really grown to love the brisk air and humbly peaceful arrangement he had found himself in. It was nothing like the castles and fortresses he had grown up in, but the only value such arrangements had were to train boys into instruments of war for pampered nobles. The knights were all good and valued mentors, but the peaceful and humble arrangements of village life was something Nell had grown to value and love. Not that he neglected his training, but having days to relax and take in the world around him was never afforded to him during his rather militant childhood.

That said, it's not that he had grown to detest his more martial ventures. He enjoyed fighting for his causes quite a lot, likely moreso than what could probably be called healthy. So while his exchanges with Augusto were filled with apprehension and deflection to save face, it was probably pretty obvious to him that the thought of going out back into the world to fight excited the young fighter. His arms were crossed and a defined but small smirk graced his lips, despite his attempts to conceal it. His posture was slightly tense as he tried to contain his interest in such a big job. Though he seemed to relax some as Augusto made his tone clear. At the man's reprimand Lionell's dark blonde eyebrows furrowed.

"If you don't trust me why waste time sending me on such a big mission to begin with? Are you gonna send one of your boys with me or something?"

His arms unfolded from in front of his chest as both hands tensed into fists at his side. "I figured you'd have more faith in me than that."

Augusto flicks his cigar into the fountain and watches the clock tick to 6:59. "Ya saved my ass enough times. I know ya got what it takes." He pulls out another cigar and places it in his mouth, spitting out a small flame to light the tip, a scene Leo's very familiar with. "Its a request of the client. Don't come nagging to me about it. Even if I don't think its a terrible idea," he adds quietly to himself.


"Either way, if ya want this job, ya gotta play by the rules. None of that lone wolf bullshit this time. But I already did some diggin' 'n' got ya hooked up with a couple suitors. We're leaving at sundown so meet me back here so I can tell you and your new partner about the mission. No partner, no information. Sorry kid, but that's the way it is this time."

He reaches into one of his pouches and pulls out a folded up parchment. He walks over to to Leo and hands it to him. He keeps walking, leaving the courtyard, and adds, "That's got the time and place to meet'em. Don't be late." The clock strikes 7am and the inn's guests start to slowly come to life.

On the parchment in large letters at the top is "The Tomb." Leo recognizes this as a local pub in town, about a 20 minute stroll away.
Following is a list of names: "Andres, Arturo, Francisco Javier Bailén, Amir, Cyrila"
And finally at the bottom is marked "7:05 am, because I know you're a slacker"
This message was last edited by the GM at 00:37, Wed 13 May 2020.

In reply to ThatDMYeah (msg # 1):

Lionell's eyebrows narrowed with a stifled grunt, arms crossing a bit more indignantly. "Fine. I'll play along, but if some idiot gets killed trying to keep up with me it's going to be hard feeling bad for them." He remarked. As Augusto spoke Leo wordlessly takes the parchment between a couple of fingers, watching mentor beginning trail away. "Yea.. come back alive Augusto."

Lionell raises the parchment up to his face as his cool and reserved eyes trailed over the words. "What the he..." he trailed off his eyes blinking a bit replacing their reserved look with a glance of a sort of disbelief. Not fully grasping what the information was telling him for a second.

https://youtu.be/PtCUMhwfReU

"WHAT THE HELL AUGUSTO!?" he screamed as he suddenly picked up into a full run almost slipping with his footing. Bolting around the corner he lightly clipped into a civilian who he accidentally sent sprawling clumsily to the ground, Lionell not so much as slowing down as said civilian began hurling insults at him.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:58, Wed 13 May 2020.

Lionell has found himself in a race against time. Barreling directly into one of the inn's residents and bounding his way down the already bustling street. Humans, dwarves, dragonborne, lizardfolk, centaurs, halflings, warforged (rock golems), tabaxi (cat people), and tieflings (devils) all fill the streets. Children play unattended, merchants merrily advertise their wares, hosts lure people to their restaurants, libraries welcome people at all times of the day, there are no guards to be seen; the town is alive and thriving. It's hard to believe that these were the slums only five years ago.

Rushing past everyone, managing not to knock anyone else down along his way, Leo manages to find the wrong side of town. Attempting to check a clock in a shop window as he dashes by, a loud crowd appears in the intersection, distracting him, just before The Tomb. Originally planning on squeezing through the commotion, a flying fist makes him reconsider. This isn't a simple traffic jam, it's a full on street brawl! Narrowly ducking out in the nick of time, he turns back to make a detour. The clattering sound of chains and metal are getting louder. "Stop there trouble maker!", yells one of the town guardsmen running towards the fight.

"Don't let him get away!", another shouts as they point at Leo, just before he dips around the corner. He'll have to take a bigger detour if he wants to make it to the tavern and not his own tomb! After narrowly avoiding a fruit cart and two warforged carrying a large portrait of Gaut Deimos, he stands before The Tomb. He can see a large tabaxi tiger being handcuffed and escorted away from the fight just 30 feet away. Luckily it seems that he no longer has their attention.

In reply to ThatDMYeah (msg # 7):

Lionell gritted his teeth a bit looking back at the commotion but pushed forward into the tavern, a waft of alcohol and fresh food in his wake.

As Leo opens the door, a short hooded figure storms past. Quietly brooding as they hurriedly leave. Beyond the doors lay an almost empty tavern. Standing behind the bar is a Minotaur, Philon, which is uncommon outside of the Badlands. However Leo knows Philon well as "its the best bar in all the land!" One of Augusto's many drunken claims to be the "best". Philon wipes a glass clean and stores it under the bar, seemingly unaware of the unusual scene in front of him.

Three of the ten tables are left standing. Six are smashed to pieces and broken. The last is.. where is the last one? Shards of glass and assorted liquids pollute the floor. Beers, ales, wines, blood, spit, vomit, spirits, and ciders. A lone bar stool remains, occupied by a tiefling casually sipping out of a glass. Dressed in dark light clothes, the red devil gazes down into his drink. At one of the tables sits a young man with a hood. A pale human's face and long black hair peak out of the hood as he looks at Leo curiously. He wears clothing full of light greens and browns. He spins a white feather between is fingers like a pen until it disappears behind his hand. He looks at Leo pompously. Lastly sits an old man in heavy chain mail, drinking presumably ale from a large glass stein. Tilting it back to get out every drop, he then slams it down onto the table which is the only sound in the tavern.

The man looks up and barely notices Leo's existence, immediately blurting out, "Oh! Its Leonill!"

In reply to ThatDMYeah (msg # 9):

Lionell blinks blankly as there was a horrid solution of fragrances that hit him all at once. His stomach for a moment churned at the unexpected minor display of gore. Though as unexpected as this was he quickly braced himself and regained his momentarily lost composure, paying no mind to the hooded figure that pushed past him. Taking focused steps he walked in, eyes glossing over the various characters in the bar, as he stepped over to take a seat a few places away from the old man in chain. He was about to order something from the exotic bartender when the old man addressed him, giving the young guy an unmistakable pause. "W.... What did you just call me?" he seemed more unnerved pr disgusted than actually angry.

"My name is Lionell... Who are you old man?"

"I am but a humble Shepard of the sheep that are our fellow man," he begins, slowly leaning in closer to you. The overwhelming stench of ale from his breathe somehow manages to over power the odors radiating from the floorboards. "But my God given name is Francisco Javier Bailén IV. I was told by Augusto to come meet you here for an adventure."

In reply to ThatDMYeah (msg # 11):

A slight grunt escaped his lips when he was prompted by such a sensation so strong, flicking his nose with a firm brush. "Adventure?!" his right eyebrow rose as his sneer deepened. He pulled out the parchment and looked down at it for a moment before readjusting his glance back up to Francisco. "Augusto told me I was going to be doing a job, not take some sort of stroll through the Empire..." he looked to the other two and down back. "Either way, I take it you two are here for the job as well? I see 5 names but only 3 of you. Anyone feel like filling me in on what's going on?" it was a request but likely came across as more of a demand with the tone he used.

"Pelor 14:12, the path that you expect to take may not be the best path for you. Come now and drink with me to clear your head of all doubts." Francisco waves his hand haphazardly and calls out for another to Philon. Philon doesn't budge. At the mention of the others, he looks behind him, "And this is-... Where did Andres go?" The brightly dressed man at the other table lets out a quiet chuckle and the tielfing at the bar a sigh. "I swear he was just here," Francisco remarks, dumbfounded.

The tiefling turns around on the bar stool. "Andres... left," he says pausing to glare at the hooded man wearing a delighted smile.

He then starts to speak in a bit of a whimsical tone. "As did Amir. He stormed off, something about 'being punctual'. However I don't know anything about a stroll through the Empire, though it sounds like well deserved money to me."

"You don't deserve anything you abomination," says the tiefling to the hooded man.

"That means a lot coming from you, demon," he replies.

"My lost sheep, Avandra 17:14. Strife is as when one letteth out water..." Francisco trails off as he slumps down to the floor.

In reply to ThatDMYeah (msg # 13):

Lionell gave a slightly deject and annoyed frown. "Augusto really knows how to pick em doesn't he?" he asked pushing himself out of his chair with a clear of his throat. "Alright." he said with a cocky though small smile. ""I have to have one of you with me, so give me some idea of what the three of you are capable of. Assuming lounging and..." he looked over to Francisco. "Drunkenness isn't all there is to you fellas."

Half a beat would pass as his eyebrows scrunched tightly over his eyes. "Fair warning though... if you aren't strong enough to fight at my side, I can't promise you'll live this journey. Not that you should expect treachery from me, but I can only pick up someone else's slack for so long."

"My child, no I assure you," Francisco begins as he starts to try to stand up.

The hooded man twirls his fingers and brings the feather back out into his hand. "I have a few talents that would be beneficial to you," he says before making it disappear again. Francisco continues talking in the background.

An agitated sigh comes from the tiefling. "You're not even doing it well!" he exclaims before taking a deep breath and regaining his composure. "My name is Cyrila. I'm familiar with the underside of the city and can do whatever has to be done to finish a job. I can sneak in and out of places and get the drop on any enemies we may come across. I make a good distraction too." Francisco continues talking in the background.

The hooded man laughs disrespectfully. "I'd prefer to not be forced into any sort of battles, but I know my way around a fight," he says while replacing the feather with a dagger. "Although I'm not much of a front line fighter," he remarks seemingly transforming the knife back to the feather. "I work more on the, supportive end of things. Oh!", he adds. "I almost forgot, pardon my manners." The candle flickers on the wall and spells out Arturo. "At your service," he says with a smile.

"More like monster," adds Cyrila.

"Fiend."

"And that's how I became a cleric of the church", Francisco says finally not being talked over. "People tend to die on these sort of things, so until I can go back to the church, I lend my support to lost little sheep. Avandra 19:17"

In reply to ThatDMYeah (msg # 15):

Lionell felt a bit at a loss. They each seemed to have expertise in their given skill sets, but the problem he was beset with was the details of the job. Each one of his possible options would be perfect support for what he needed. Should the job require detailed and dangerous intel Cyrila would be the best fit, if he were to expect more abstract issues with the environment such as deep dives into ruins the utility of someone magical prowess like Arturo would be of the greatest importance, or if they should expect a lot of combat and conflict having a healer like the drunken Francisco to keep him from dying would be the most imperative. Regardless it was obvious to him that if whichever team he decided was going to work he would be incurring the most physical punishment in the group. It would help if the skills of whoever he enlists was at least apt for the tasks at hand.

Nell breathed out a sigh. "Fine... I'm going to hate this but I've decided on what I should do." he looked at Cryila and Arturo. "You two better stop bickering," and then Leo looked to Francisco "And you better not be too drunk off your ass to keep us from dying." he started walking to the exit as he placed a hand on the door. "Well... let's go. Augusto is waiting on us and I have no idea what to expect. I'm not in the mood to be slowed down."

There was the briefest of pauses before he spoke up one last time before stepping back into the village.

"Call me Leo."
This message was last edited by the player at 00:08, Sat 16 May 2020.

Francisco jumps to his feet and somehow manages to stay up right. ""Leo! What a great name. Please, call me Francisco Javier Bailén IV! I give thanks to our Lord for he is good! Pelor 107:1" He runs after you excitedly.

Arturo looks to Cyrila annoyed. Cyrila looks up to sky, staring disappointingly before looking over at Arturo. "I don't trust you, I won't help you, and if you pull any funny business, I will take you out on the spot."

"Oh, it looks like your true colors are starting to show, huh, little devil?" Arturo taunts.

Cyrila spits "Swine," as he stands up, walking past Arturo. "I'll only keep your secret as long as I'm forced to travel with you. If it comes down to me or you-"

"I like those odds, demon," Arturo adds cutting him off. He stands up and walks towards the door, tossing the feather to the ground.

"Trickster."

"Ogre." They continue to spit insults at each other before eventually falling silent.

"Avandra 3:27 through 28," snarls Philon. "Withhold not good from them to whom it is due, when it is in the power of thine hand to do it. Say not unto thy neighbour, Go, and come again, and to morrow I will give; when thou hast it by thee."

Francisco stutters, and comes to a stiff halt. He says without facing Philon, "A-.. Avandra 19:17. He that hath pity upon the poor lendeth unto the Lord; and that which he hath given will he-"

"He will pay him again," Philon says quietly in a low grumble.

Francisco tip toes out of the tavern quietly whispering, "adventuuure." The three of them follow behind you.

Leo was beginning the lose some confidence as the three bantered bitterly, and in Francisco's case sheepishly, bicker among each other. If the elements didn't kill them they might each other, but second guessing and dropping back on the conviction of one's decisions does not make qualities of a very reliable man. Nonetheless, he had some growing concerns, hopefully if they die it won't be by his hand. Leading the party back to the Inn. Along the way he explains that Augusto would be meeting them later in the evening, and that they can make whatever preparations they need to before leaving.

"I need to settle some things before we leave tonight. We'll be waiting at the Vermillian Cobble Inn until Augusto shows up."

Without a moments hesitation Leo beelined his way to said Inn.

Arturo heads off, "In that case, I have a couple things to tend to myself. Vermillian Cobble Inn." He heads off in his own direction. "Vermillian Cobble Inn?" he whispers again to himself.

"I'll gather some supplies," Cyrila replies. "Is there anything I should procure?", he asks before leaving.

Francisco chimes in, "Do you mind if I follow you? I'm not sure where that inn is, and I'd rather not be late.. Or get lost.."

In reply to ThatDMYeah (msg # 19):

"Potions... get one for each of us" he requested of Cyrila. "Including Arturo" he clarified. Leo looked at Francisco a slight downward dip into a frown as he asked to come along. He wasn't sure how much patience he was going to have for this religious drunk, yet.... "Well... I'm on my way to take care of some last minute chores for the inn keeper. You're welcome to come Francisco but don't be surprised if she puts you to work." he remarked.

Moments passed as they worked their way back to the aptly named Vermillian Cobble. Leo walked back through the front doors calling out. "Ralvilla! I've got a new job. I'll be leaving this evening." He called out. "There anything you need me to take care of before tonight?"

Leo hears Ralvilla call from a couple rooms down, "Leo come on in here!" There, the red headed dwarf stands on a ladder, a familiar jar in one hand and a paint brush in the other. The entire room smells like vinegar. "Leo, I need you to help me smear-"

"What are you doing?!", yells out a concerned Francisco, following you with the ching of chain mail. "Vinegar is acidic; it can corrode the wood and stone!" He walks over and tries to snatch the jar from her.

While trying to inspect this new face, Ralvilla doesn't realize what he's up to until the jar is gone from her hand. "You old fart! Give that back! I paid good money for it!" she demands.

"No, I will not! Who did you buy this from? I'll go get you a refund on this myself!" He looks at the engraving on the side of the jar, and begins walking off. "Pelor 11:21. Though hand join in hand, the wicked shall not be unpunished..." he spouts, trailing off into the distance.

Ralvilla stares where Francisco was standing, eyes wide, mouth agape. "Who, who was that?" she finally manages to spit out.
This message was last edited by the GM at 01:48, Mon 18 May 2020.

In reply to ThatDMYeah (msg # 21):

Leo was visibly stunned at this man's banter and rather forceful approach to... "problem solving". He scoffed out an exasperated blast of air when the man basically pushed him aside on his mad charge out. "You better not be lost or late Francisco!" he called out, rubbing his forehead with a genuine looking of grief on his face. This was a small break in his usually collected and calm demeanor, though he was comfortable enough with Ralvilla to be this open with her. "... A man that is just as likely to save my life as he is to get me killed..."

Leo firmly rubbed the right side of his now tensing neck as he turned his attention directly to Ravilla. "I'll be leaving tonight Ravilla. I just want to make sure that there wasn't anything you need me to take care of before I left. Need fire wood?"

Ravilla shakes her head, and looks towards Leo saying, "Tonight, huh? Well we've got the wood and all the heavy lifting outta the way." She ponders for a moment adding, "How long will you be gone? You could go to the store and pick up the weekly supplies. I won't need'em for a couple more days, but that's all I can think of. If you're leaving tonight, go do whatever you want. This old gal can handle things while you're away. I did it before you were here after all."

She climbs down her ladder and approaches Leo. She reaches into her pocket, and pulls out a small pouch. "Take this, its dangerous to go alone its a good luck charm," she claims with a small smirk. Leo glances inside and sees a couple copper and silver coins. In exchange for your help, Ravilla provides a room and enough payment to enjoy the simple things in life. It weighs the same as about a month's worth of pay.

"Just don't get too carried away; being able to work is a luxury." She walks out of the room and down the hallway. In the brief moment of silence and stillness, a calm gentle breeze blows, redelivering the stench of vinegar.

In reply to ThatDMYeah (msg # 23):

"Not sure... but I'll have a better idea a bit closer to when I leave"

A small smile cracked on his face as the woman parted with the kind gesturr, though the expression went sour as the smell permeated his nostrils. Leo turned to leave the room, taking the time he had left to make a quick trip to the market for Ralvilla, the little bit of change she had given him in tow.

Leo heads to the town market to purchase Ravilla's goods. He finds that the merchants have everything that they need in stock, a drastically different scene from five years ago with the Angelica Plague running rampant. No shortages, no riots, no thievery (or at least not openly,) fresh vegetables and meat. If it wasn't for Sir Edica and his men, this town would have surely perished. No more rationed *berries. Things truly have changed since then.

While departing the market and making his way back through town, Leo barely manages to see a figure walk into a dark alleyway. Was it Cyrila? He hadn't seen him enough to be sure, but it seemed like his slinking silhouette skulking around. With his backpack and arms full of supplies, he paused for a brief moment, pondering what to do.


*Goodberry is a 1^st spell available to Rangers and Druids. Although simplistic, it can only be cast so many times in one day.
"Up to ten berries appear in your hand. A berry provides enough nourishment to sustain a creature for one day. The berries lose their potency if they have not been consumed within 24 hours of the casting of this spell."

In reply to ThatDMYeah (msg # 25):

Leo blinked as the shadown slinked in his peripherel but he was just able to notice. His lips parted slightly as he walked up to the rogue from the side. "I take it things are going well Cyrilla?"

Startled, Cyrila turns around with a dagger extended towards you. He looks shocked for a moment before you see the realization wash across his face. He takes a deep breath with his eyes closed and slides his dagger back into his robe. "I don't know how you did, but please don't sneak up on me like that." He takes another deeper breath and continues, "But yes. I'm meeting up with a couple of.. former colleges. They owe me a favor and I think it'll help us on this job." He reaches into a pouch on his belt, and hands you a periapt. It's two hands clasping a red heart with a fine golden chain. It can easily fit into your palm.

"I was supposed to return that and a few others to my associates. But I'll cash in my favor to keep them. You look like a front line fighting man, so you'll want something that will keep you in the engagement while we're in the thick of it. Don't go do anything too stupid, but that will protect you in the worst case scenario."  He starts to head deeper down the alley. "I'll see you at the inn; this place is something not everyone can know about."

In reply to ThatDMYeah (msg # 3):

Leo looked down at the ornament thoughtfully. With a turn the light of day glinted off it at various angles before pocketing it away. "I'll be sure to keep it on hand then... Take care of what you must but don't be late." Giving a parting wave to his rather secretive ally he began glancing along the path.

Arturo and Cyrila didn't seem to care for each other, that much was evident. It would turn into a risk to the four of them if they began going at each other's throats. So for now until he could better account for Cyrila, Leo figured accounting for Arturo would be his next best step. Leo began surveying the square for Arturo.

In reply to Lionell (msg # 28):

Leo searches the surrounding area. There's a larger group of people gathered, talking around a fruit cart. None of them seem to be hooded, besides the three foot tall (standing on their tippy-toes) female halfling. It doesn't take Leo long to scan the rest of the market, but he's confident that Arturo isn't around.

In reply to ThatDMYeah (msg # 29):

Leo made a small blast out of his nose. It seems as though he would be wasting the entire day looking for Arturo at this rate. Regardless, surely the two men had enough wisdom to contain their innate and clear hate for each other enough to not kill each other in a critical moment. It shouldn't be his job to be their negotiator, and hopefully he wouldn't have a need to. Time was fickle and always moving, as such Leo decided he should too before getting too distracted. With that he made his march onward back to the in Ravillas' goods.

Walking briskly, though careful not to drop his stock of goods he returned to the inn hopefully without incident.