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Author Topic: The Filth of Kalgena: IC Thread. Chapter 3.  (Read 52528 times)

lawastooshort

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"Okay, sure. Let's do both - we can try out this scrying thing too, no?"

If Cado doesn't object, find out if the people who want scrying provide the necessary materials or not. Go and see what kind of work the AMC offer a trained wizard. I am his... representative.
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My Name is Immaterial

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Gartens nods thoughtfully, speaks. "I am Celles Gartens. You may call me Gartens, if you wish."

((Pronounced 'chelz gahr-tenz', by the way. Usually. I don't know, it's pronunciation fluctuates in my head alot.))
Sergeant Richard Rockcrusher. Nice to meet you. And you lad?" He extends his hand in your direction to shake. By the time you've reached this part of the conversation, you are approaching a large church. For Ragefist, it looks a bit like Crackstone Point. For  Gartens, it looks like a wide marble tower. A number of soldiers with holy symbols emblazoned on their armour are entering and leaving. A few are escorting bound prisoners into the building.

Alaris keeps this info in mind and wanders over to find an alchemist's shop. Preferably one that sells alchemist's fire.
You can find anything, at any time, in Kalgena. That doesnt mean you'll like the price. After an hour and a half of asking around, you are directed to a storefront in an area of town seemingly populated exclusively by craftsmen, artisans and other technical disciplines, like smiths and alchemist. The shop is staffed by a tired looking young human, who hurriedly makes a vain attempt to straighten up the disordered counter as you approach. It is littered with ingredients, obscure tools, and many glass vials, some filled with liquid, some empty but stained with enough potions as to be as beautiful as stained glass.

"Okay, sure. Let's do both - we can try out this scrying thing too, no?"

If Cado doesn't object, find out if the people who want scrying provide the necessary materials or not. Go and see what kind of work the AMC offer a trained wizard. I am his... representative.
When you speak to the men in the corner, they suggest that they will provide the necessary focus. From the sound of it, they planned for this, and need someone with a quiet mouth, the skill to scry and a good, hearty love of the yellow blood of Kalgena. You promise to bring this to your employer's attention, at which they make slightly disapproving noises. "We were hoping that we would not have to work through a middleman. We'd like to speak to him here, tomorrow night. Go and bring that to your master's attention."

The offices of the AMC's members do not open until around 9 in the morning. However, some of the more... promiscuous members of the administration might still be active, but there's no guarantee that they are in any state to discuss employment prospects.

My Name is Immaterial

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Spoiler (click to show/hide)
((You seem to have made a double post, there.))
So I did.
« Last Edit: January 28, 2014, 01:29:52 pm by My Name is Immaterial »
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AlleeCat

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((You seem to have made a double post, there.))
"Hello there! I'm looking for alchemist's fire, probably about four vials. Price isn't really and issue, but cheaper is better."

My Name is Immaterial

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((You seem to have made a double post, there.))
"Hello there! I'm looking for alchemist's fire, probably about four vials. Price isn't really and issue, but cheaper is better."
Scratching his scraggly beard, he looks over his shoulder. "Well, let's see. We don't keep much around, because of the obvious fire dangers. I'll check the back." He disappears into the backroom and the sounds of moving boxes, clinking vials and muffled mumbling wafts out of the door. After a minute, a "Aha!" ends the search, and he returns to the counter with a steel box. He opens it to reveal an array of seven vials filled with a shiny, green liquid. They dangle suspended from a rack, but are jacketed in loose knit wool coats.
"That'll be 25 gold per vial."

AlleeCat

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Alaris flips the man a platinum piece, "That should cover the four vials. So, business is booming, eh?"
« Last Edit: January 31, 2014, 12:16:35 am by AlleeCat »
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My Name is Immaterial

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Alaris flips the man a platinum piece, "That should cover the four vials. So, business is booming, eh?"
"Eh. It could be better, could be worse. Just finished a contract for Mogbal Mining. We don't have much business like yours, but my boss needed someone to keep an eye on the distilling process of these smokepowder batches, so you got lucky." He continues talking as he turns to another rack of vials. These are filled with a black, gritty liquid. He takes each out and taps the bottom of the vial, and a bit of powder billows away from his touch. "Well, by lucky, I mean I'm usually not. I'm often told to stay up all night to make sure we don't get blow up. I cant really complain about the not being blown up part. Anyway, most of our business comes from miners or firms. Smokepowder is in very high demand here."

AlleeCat

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"Excuse my ignorance, but I'm new in town. What exactly is smokepowder?"

My Name is Immaterial

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"It's a highly explosive powder that the miners use to blast through tougher rock. They go through it like a strong liquor through a halfling. The AMC uses more than we, the local alchemists, can produce."

AlleeCat

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"So are you just short on ingredients? Time? Workforce?"

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* My Name is Immaterial glares at everyone except for Alleecat because they haven't submitted actions.

"So are you just short on ingredients? Time? Workforce?"
"Well, it's an economic issue at it's core. The opportunity cost of increasing production of smokepowder is too high at the moment, as the AMC member companies insist on buying in bulk and demanding lower prices. Many around find it more profitable to make a few batches of Alchemist's Fire instead of another batch of smokepowder. Why do you ask? Are you looking for a job?"
As he finishes his words, a far off scream breaks the night. The man at the counter shakes his head in dismay.
"It's a damn shame, what's happened to this place. Mark my words, friend, stay out of the alleys."

From the Delinquent Players Thread:
"No, No, I wish to join the Church Coalition, And Long-term, respectively."
"As I said to the larger fellow, catch up with Sergeant Rockcrusher. He'll get you all sorted."
Godkissed catches up with the group and introduces herself. Ragefist introduces himself as Gregory Guy, because I'm not letting this die yet. You all enter the church-like building, and step into a large common room filled with people of faith bustling every which way. Sergeant Rockcrusher leads you through the throngs of people of almost every race to a desk in the section of the common room labeled Law Enforcement. It is staffed by a middle-aged Gnome. He looks up as you approach.
"Hello, Sergeant. Have you brought me some new recruits?"
"Aye, Freg. Freg, Celles Gartens, Gregory Guy, and Laura Godkissed. Gartens, Guy, Godkissed, Freg Gitonar."
Freg digs out three papers from a filing cabinet, and pushes an ink pot and quill across the desk. "I need you fill these out with your information. Name, God(ess)([e]s), previous experience, potential references of good character, sizes, preferred armament, and any distinguishing marks. Just the basic stuff for our records.

Rolepgeek

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Gartens follows the man into the building, and looks around at the various people, mentally noting faiths and trying to track the sort of religious groups that seem to be here, as well as hoping to see some fellow Melisians. She looks at the papers and sighs. "Wonderful. Paper-work. I thought I'd finished with that when I was sent off..." The woman picks up the papers somewhat delicately, drags over a chair, and begins working on them...
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Sincerely, Role P. Geek

Optimism is Painful.
Optimize anyway.

AlleeCat

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"Well, I just look for anything that pays. Mostly things I can tell good stories about. The normal adventurer-type things. Dungeons and dragons, wizards and warlocks, ghouls and goblins... So far it seems like this place is a breeding ground for strange happenings, but nobody's given me much in the way of rumor besides a gang war and some miners."
« Last Edit: January 31, 2014, 12:18:11 am by AlleeCat »
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My Name is Immaterial

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Gartens follows the man into the building, and looks around at the various people, mentally noting faiths and trying to track the sort of religious groups that seem to be here, as well as hoping to see some fellow Melisians. She looks at the papers and sighs. "Wonderful. Paper-work. I thought I'd finished with that when I was sent off..." The woman picks up the papers somewhat delicately, drags over a chair, and begins working on them...
"No, it's only just begun. It's not too heavy a paper load, but it's the only way we can keep organized."
The form is divided into three sections, Identification, which includes name, race, hieght, distingushing features, etc., Logistics information, including things like clothing size, allergies, and such, and Previous Experience, which is a short place to fill in potential references who will be contacted by Sending.

Looking around, you see a large represantation of Pelor, followed closely by Heironus. Most of the Dwarves bear the anvil of Moradin, while many powerfully built soldiers carry Kord's symbols. Saith Cuthbert's faithful are a common sight, while you only catch a few glances of a servant of Wee Jas. Ubanas's symbol graces the breast of the robes of adminsitrators and wadding trouser wearing workmen. There's some Pholtusans, Yondallaers, Garl Glittergoldans, and Syretneese heading out on patrol. You see about ten of your faith around, three heading out to patrol.

"Well, I just look for anything that pays. Mostly things I can tell good stories about. The normal adventurer-type things. Dungeons and dragons, wizards and warlocks, ghouls and goblins... So far it seems like this place is a breeding ground for strange happenings, but nobody's given me much in the way of rumor besides a gang war and some miners."
"Well, if it's that sort of rumour your looking for... Last night, someone got brutally murdered a few blocks to the north. Someone took a cleaver to them and carved out all their organs and disappeared into the night with the still warm body parts. The strangest part was the killer didn't sewer the body. It sat there till the next morning when a patrol stumbled across it. The Church Coalition is trying to keep it quiet so there's no copy-cats. As I said, watch your back, lest the Gut Bandit gets you." He smiles smugly. "I came up with that one."

lawastooshort

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Edgrick has a mind to stab the men in the face, but such silly impulsive actions have ill-served him in the past.

"'Master'... eejits."

Find Cade, tell him we meet the men tomorrow night. Then try to find some promiscuous AMC members out drinking, and make friends or find them in compromising situations that mind be useful tomorrow.

Spoiler: diplomacy roll (click to show/hide)
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