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[Peradon]

Siob

To the Gilded Lantern Inn! Also, we really need to learn to read, or something....

Bagsi

Can this dude read?

Find the nearest guy with a big sword. Ask him where you can get a fighting job...

[Araph]

    Siob

To the Gilded Lantern Inn! Also, we really need to learn to read, or something....

Fortunately for you, the city layout revolves around the castle. You're able to make your way towards it with relatively little trouble, quickly weaving through the crowds. The surrounding buildings become more solidly constructed as you approach the town's center: many houses are made of stone, with rounded walls and occasional towers. The crowds thin out, and a greater proportion of the remaining pedestrians look more ornately dressed.

Eventually, you reach a small square just outside of the castle walls with signs hanging from each building. One of them is made of cast iron, shaped like the silhouette of a bulls-eye lantern. You approach the inn and enter.

The first floor is entirely taken up by a common room. In the center of the vaguely circular room is a gently crackling fire-pit surrounded by low benches, while the majority of the rest of the room is taken up by irregularly placed tables. Just before the far wall is a counter, behind which a nondescript man stood wiping down earthenware steins. Off on one side of the room, another man sits at a table with paper in front of him, while three more sit at a nearby table talking quietly over a map of some sort. All four of them wear immaculately tailored foreign-looking clothes.

Prepare for the social encounter!

- What angle will Siob use when trying to get her application accepted? (In other words, what's she offering to the expedition.)
- If challenged, will she be...
1. Conciliatory
2. Aggressive
3. Humorous
4. <Insert adjective here>



    Basgi

Can this dude read?

Find the nearest guy with a big sword. Ask him where you can get a fighting job...

((Nope.))

Slightly off-put by city life, you look around for someone who looks like they can handle themselves in a fight. As a gaggle of merchants pass by yelling at each other in a foreign tongue, you tap one of their bodyguards, a jovial-looking man with braided brown hair and a ruddy complexion, on the shoulder and begin to ask him where a warrior might be able to find work in the city. He pauses for a moment, but doesn't have time to answer as his employers have continued on their way. He hustles to catch up to them and falls back into line. They quickly fade back into the crowd.

Well, that won't do. You gather your courage and try again.

You awkwardly approach another armed man. This one is slightly shorter than you, with short brown hair touched with grey around the temples. A massive sword is sheathed on his back, and his arms are thicker than yours by half. His stoic expression detracts from your enthusiasm, but nevertheless, you repeat your question. He glances you over once before answering.

"You wanna be a warrior? Fight for glory and gold?"

"..Y-yes sir."

He shakes his head slightly. "You're gonna get ye'self killed, kid. You know that, right?"

"No, sir. I mean, no I'm not going to get myself killed, not no, I don't know that I'm going to get myself killed, I mean..."

He waits patiently as the words trickle to a halt. "I was like you once, so I'm gonna tell you what I did, an' it worked out for me. You can tell by how I'm still breathin' and talkin'. First off, quit stumblin' over yer words, it's embarrassing. When yeh've got that under control, start simple. Don't charge out into the world thinkin' you're gonna be the greatest hero since Conri himself walked this land."

You cleverly refrain from mentioning that that's exactly what you did.

"Find someone who's hirin' guards or join a band a' warriors. Best bet is to head over to the market, listen to the crier. Head down to the docks and listen to merchants, ask around about who's hirin'. Hell, head up to the castle, see if any rovers haven't left yet."

"I've gotta be goin'. Good luck, kid."

He turns and begins to walk off farther into the city, fading into the crowd.


    Lurm

You are currently walking in the streets of Tiryn, vaguely in the center of the city and near the castle. You know what your end goal is - now what's the first step you will takes towards it?

[Peradon]

Siob: We go in with a Humorous behavior.
Basgi: Take the guys advice. Find a merchant looking for some body-guards.
Lurm: Is there a wizard hall nearby? If so, go there, if not,to the market!

[Digital Hellhound]

We should have Basgi go to the Docks. The crier said the southern wharf was ill-omened - what better way to prove ourselves than to accidentally stumble into the danger and dealing with it/surviving it?

Síob should act confident and a bit humorous - quick to smile and make jokes. Make your claims realistic - no 'I know the land like the back of my hand and could trek across it blindfolded', more saying that she's quick, sharp-eyed and that the expedition could use another pair of eyes - especially with dangerous spirits and animals around (even if she has no actual experience of said dangerous things, seeming to have experience won't hurt).

[StrawBarrel]

Like everyone else said:
Síob: Try to search for a job and if challenged be humorous.
Basgi: Go to the docks and see if a merchant needs bodyguards.
Lurm: Go to the magic place.

[Araph]

    Siob

Siob: We go in with a Humorous behavior.

Síob should act confident and a bit humorous - quick to smile and make jokes. Make your claims realistic - no 'I know the land like the back of my hand and could trek across it blindfolded', more saying that she's quick, sharp-eyed and that the expedition could use another pair of eyes - especially with dangerous spirits and animals around (even if she has no actual experience of said dangerous things, seeming to have experience won't hurt).

Like everyone else said:
Síob: Try to search for a job and if challenged be humorous.

Okay. Okay, you can do this. They don't know you're a random girl from the middle of nowhere. You feign confidence and walk up to the group of men.

"Excuse me, are you with the expedition the crier was talking about?"

The conversation between the trio of men pauses for a moment, then resumes as the fourth person, an older man with a sternly lined face and graying hair, responds.

"We are. Can I help you with something?"

"I'd like to join."

Your answer was loud enough for all four men to hear. The one who had answered your question maintains a somber, neutral expression as he sets down his quill, while the trio responds more expressively. One lets out a short bark of laughter, another shakes his head with a disapproving expression, and the last merely smiles slightly.

"I'm afraid we ca-"

"Women have no place among us." Cutting off the older speaker, the man who had shaken his head heaves himself to his feet and speaks. You can't tell his exact age from his features, but his face is tanned and weathered. Both his clothes and his accent mark him as a southerner, and a wealthy one at that. His sizable gut would certainly support your assessment of his financial state. "We need workers who can hold their own even out in the middle of the mountains with spirits and wolves biting at their heels. Women will only burden us down."

"Mister, I can tell you right now that women aren't the real thing that's burdening you down. Also, I grew up exploring the mountains..." Abhach is nearly in the southern mountains, right? "...and helping my pa work iron, so wherever you think a woman's place is, it can't be in the kitchen, since from the looks of it that's where you grew up."

Shit, that is not what you meant by 'be humorous'.

By the end of your retort, the older man's face had shifted to disapproval. The man who had laughed was looking cautiously at the fat man as if he might explode any second. The fat man looked like he might actually explode any second.

Having observed this, you're caught completely off-guard by a burst of laughter coming from the third man sitting around the map. You quickly glance over at him as he calmly stands up, still shaking with unsuppressed laughter. He's huge. Nearly six and a half feet tall and musclebound, with braided blonde hair and an impressive, similarly braided beard. His clothes are obviously northern: thick wool and animal pelts, wolves from the look of it. You wouldn't be surprised if he had killed them himself.

"She has spirit, I'll give her that." He looks you over once, his eyes intelligent and judging. "Why do you want to join?"

"I want to see the world. I can carry my weight, and I figured you could use another set of eyes."

He raised one eyebrow. "You say you helped your father work metal. Can you set up a forge on your own?"

"Definitely."

"And I suppose we shall have to take your word on your competence?" The grey-haired man interjects in the same polite tone as before. You take off your rucksack and pull out one of the knives you brought, holding it out for him to take. He gestures towards the giant, who takes the proffered weapon and examines it. He nods approvingly.

"A very well-made toothpick." He hands it back.

"This is absurd!" Fatty interrupts before the northman can continue. He pauses for a moment and composes himself before continuing in a terse tone. "This girl is barely more than a child. As per our agreement, you have the right to the final say on the expedition personnel, but I must express my severe disapproval should you choose to continue this folly. Sigurd, you know better than any of us the dangers we face."

Sigurd nods calmly. "And I am sure this girl knows them as well. She grew up in the mountains, after all." Not... not technically. You don't say anything about that, though. "She wishes to join on her own volition. Who am I to deny her this opportunity?"

You feel a wave of relief wash over you as the fat man shakes his head and returns to his seat. Sigurd turns and looks over the map again as the older man begins explaining the specifics of what you're agreeing to by joining the expedition in the same professional tone he had maintained the throughout the conversation...

Siob's story pauses here.


Fucking tenses. I default to narrating in the present tense when talking about what Siob does, but slip back into past tense when saying what the others do. I went back and corrected every inconsistency that I saw, but there're probably a few errors here and there.

Also, this took way longer to type up than I anticipated. I'll be back soon to finish the update for Basgi and Lurm.

[Peradon]

Well. We are up against something big... I hope we can handle it....

But yeah, dont sweat it! Take all the time you need!

[Araph]

    Basgi

Basgi: Take the guys advice. Find a merchant looking for some body-guards.

We should have Basgi go to the Docks. The crier said the southern wharf was ill-omened - what better way to prove ourselves than to accidentally stumble into the danger and dealing with it/surviving it?

Like everyone else said:
Basgi: Go to the docks and see if a merchant needs bodyguards.

After a moment's thought, you decide on a course of action. The man had said the docks might have some opportunities, so you head in that direction. Sort of. The streets are irregular and tangled, but you press on in the general direction of the sea until you reach the edge of the city.

The smell is terrible. Salt water, rotting fish, and the unpleasant aroma of unwashed laborers. You square your shoulders and take the plunge, so to speak, looking for merchants supervising their wares being unloaded from and loaded into ships. You quickly learn that the sympathetic warrior was an outlier in the histogram of civility, and most attempts to offer your services to the merchants are met with varying degrees of dismissal and hostility. Occasionally a potential employer would stop and listen to your spiel, but it's a rare occurrence.

Dejected, you continue south along the wharves. The crowd thins and dissipates the farther south you go, a fact that you're appreciative of. The smell might remain, but the shouts and creaking of timber quickly trails off, leaving you nearly alone with your thoughts. A few other people still remain nearby, moving quickly and nervously. A pair of sailors carrying a crate between them, a frazzled, bearded man staring intently into the water, a blubbery, tentacled horror from the depths limping onto the wharf. You pay little attention to them and continue down the street.

Whoa wait what was that last one?


    Lurm

Lurm: Is there a wizard hall nearby? If so, go there, if not,to the market!

Lurm: Go to the magic place.

You mull over your options as you trudge along the streets towards the market. If there was an actual center of magical learning, you would have gone there years ago. The closest thing you have to that is to take up the life of a druid, along with all the baggage that entails: following the orders of the loremasters and chiefs, years of strict training, being assigned a settlement to guard, political obligations. You wouldn't even be able to pursue foreign arts.

Speaking of foreign arts, maybe you could seek out an arcanist from the east or south. You would have to travel for weeks to reach a different cultural center, but you already knew that sacrifices would have to be made to pursue this dream. ...Could you even afford it? Probably not. You might be able to get by on what you know of druidic rituals and alchemy. Lurm of Tiras, druid for hire? Might be something to consider.

You're stirred from your contemplation by the realization that you've reached the central market. A passing sheep tries to eat the hem of your cloak. You step out of reach.

[StrawBarrel]

Basgi: Go to the bearded man and ask him what that horror is.
Lurm: Browse through the market and note anything of interest.

[Digital Hellhound]

It's probably very out of character, but I kinda want Basgi to just walk up to the tentacloid and politely greet it.

Lurm: What sort of druidic magic and alchemy do you actually know? Why isn't the foreign way of magic studied at home?

[Peradon]

Basgi: Go to the bearded man and ask him what that horror is.
Lurm: Browse through the market and note anything of interest.

+1

Maybe we can introduce Basgi to the fighting world with a Kraken.....

[Araph]

It's probably very out of character, but I kinda want Basgi to just walk up to the tentacloid and politely greet it.

'You approach the squid thing and politely comment on the weather. Cthulhu seems caught off guard and apologizes profusely for his intrusion upon your civilization, saying that he meant to take a right in the transatlantic current twenty leagues out. You graciously shrug off the faux pas as he slithers back into the water.'


    Basgi

Basgi: Go to the bearded man and ask him what that horror is.

You freeze. The tentacloid doesn't seem to have noticed you - or anybody else, for that matter. In fact, the sailors don't seem to notice it either. They walk by, still nervous, but apparently oblivious to the presence of the creature. However, you see the old man staring into the water grinning maniacally and furtively glancing over towards the creature. Unsure what to make of this string of events, you awkwardly sidle over to near the man and uncertainly ask him while avoiding looking directly at the aberration:

"D- Do you know what that is? I mean, I'm new here, but that's not normal, is it?"

The man glances at you, eyes sparkling and smile widening. His skin is a light brown, darker than anyone you've met before, but given that you've lived in a small village in the mountains your whole life, that's not saying much. "You can see it, yes? Is it not amazing?"

"Am I not supposed to be able to see it?"

"No. You are supposed to hear the spirit."

Over the sound of the ocean lapping against the pier, you hear a faint keening. Almost musical, but something about it sets your teeth on edge.

"What... What does it do? Is it dangerous?"

He throws his head back in a silent laugh. "It takes your mind and khhh - " He mimes breaking a small object in his hands. The keening is growing louder and you feel a hint of nausea. "Like an egg for its breakfast."

Uh.

"Not today, though. We have ways of dealing with spirits such as these, do we not? Now here is what we will do..."

Oh, good, he must be a druid or something.

"I am going to, what is the word, incinerate this spirit and we shall laugh over the ashes. Just like one of your druids, yes?"

'Or something'. Definitely 'or something'.

"Now, the moment it understands that we see it, it will leap into action. You are a big strong one, yes? What you must do is stop this thing from getting away."

Um. Wait, maybe we should think this through for a second.

"Now is the time."

Or apparently we could just charge blindly in.

The man whirls around and faces the spirit, suddenly chanting in a foreign tongue. The spirit's song leaps upwards in volume, cutting into your mind like a searing knife. No, that's not an accurate analogy; it seeps into your mind like water through untreated boots, oozing through the cracks and drowning out everything else. For one terrifying moment you are unable to move. Your vision begins to warp and fade. As you fight back waves of nausea, a different sound forces the enchantment away: a sonorous baritone calling out words you can't understand. The film of hazy grey nothing fades from your vision, burnt away by a searing brand of light crackling between an outstretched hand and the tentacled horror.

The keening cuts off and is replaced by a hideous, gurgling squeal as reality snaps back into place. The wizard stands in front of you, lightning arcing between his hands and the spirit.

"Now is the time to act, child."

You hear the command and react automatically. Simple goal, stop the thing from getting away. You can do this.

Roll to stop the creature from escaping: 18

You charge. The sea monster heaves itself towards the water's edge, but you intercept it before it can get there, pinning its tentacles _{urgh they're disgusting and slimy} one by one as it tries to grapple you. One appendage slips by and wraps itself around your throat, tightening with desperate strength. The spirit's twists its head towards you and you see its mouth, a slimy beak surrounded by undulating tentacles open wider as pulls you closer by the neck.

You strain to keep away from the maw, your face inches away from the snapping beak. In the back of your mind, you process the wizard yelling something, but you can't take the time to understand what he's saying. You ignore it and take a calculated risk.

Releasing the creature's other tentacles, you grab the base of the limb that's currently doing its best to strangle you and pull with all your strength, ripping it completely off of the spirit. Gasping for air and with red clouding your vision, you grit your teeth and seize the squid by the closest thing it has to a throat. With a roar, you heave yourself to your feet and hurl the creature farther inland, putting your whole body behind the movement. As it arcs towards the ground, flailing wildly, a blindingly incandescent sphere of fire crashes into its middle and detonates.

A few splatters of meat slide along the ground towards you. A discarded tentacle twitches one the ground at your feet. You rub your hand along your bruised neck, breathing heavily.

Hearty laughter echoes along the street. The wizard (this guy must be crazy) does an impromptu little dance as he examines the pulpy remains of the sea creature.


    Lurm

Lurm: Browse through the market and note anything of interest.

Lurm: What sort of druidic magic and alchemy do you actually know? Why isn't the foreign way of magic studied at home?

You meander through the market, idly examining the stalls and vendors. Foods, wool and leather, tools, livestock; everything necessary to survive.

As you walk, you consider the things you already know. You can perform rituals to exorcise minor spirits, consecrate trees, track creatures, divine water sources and metals; all sorts of useful things. Not the sort of things you hear about in stories, though.

Well. In theory you can perform those rituals. They might be a little touchy in practice.

As for alchemy, you're much more familiar with that art. Potions of night-eye, camouflage, eagle's sight, medicines, sedatives. Those are just off the top of your head. You have a notebook with many more instructions and formulas in your rucksack.

You reach the edge of the market, where the town crier stands perpetually shouting.

"...calls all loyal clansmen of Tiras to his banner, to reclaim the north! Join the campaign, for the glory of the clan! In other news, the druids warn all citizens to avoid the southern wharf until further notice! Ill omens abound, 'tis best to stay well clear of the place. This very evening, the Firmire auction begins! The herds and possessions of Ruadh of Lachan have been seized and will be put on sale to any merchant who cares to bid! Be advised that a group of travelers from the south have asked any able-bodied men of skill or steel to join them on an expedition east by northeast and can be found in the the Gilded Lantern Inn near the clan-chief's palace!"

[StrawBarrel]

Basgi: Talk to the wizard.
I'm not really sure what to do with Lurm.
Lurm: Go to the Gilded Lantern Inn.

[Digital Hellhound]

Basgi: After an experience like this, you feel... you feel... well and truly alive! This calls for a celebration! Tell the wizard the two of you are going for pints in the nearest tavern to enjoy your victory. The shaking and nightmares can come later.

(That non-canon segment was brilliant.)