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[Twinwolf]

"I say what I'm thinking. You made a good first impression."

[Dwarmin]

"A bit of a risk, in Sleangate, to speak your mind...anyway...well, let's get on with it. We'll have enough time to pal around later. Right now we've got work to do. We're gonna end up hugging or something if we stand here any longer." Eleen said, smiling brightly.

[Twinwolf]

"Noted. I'll try to reign it in when necessary." Oriana said, also smiling, and following Eleen when she heads off.

[sjm9876]

Kas repeats his question on Sandhal's research to Miss Tannerson, and then (presuming no major revelation) heads to the docks, to search for the Merciful Annibel.

[Dwarmin]

As the two women cut through the backalleys to reach the Sarham Bridge, Eleen knowing many of the best and safest paths in the city, she gave a rambling monologue on the district.

"The ships butcher the Krakens and bring them to the dock ward-usually with explosive harpoons or barrel bombs, though in old times they had to actually catch a whale first, and use it like bait to catch a Kraken. They used to have to these sort of giant spiked rams, called 'Daggers' on the front of the ship, to impale the Kraken on a run, used to call it Fitting The Glove, because you had to hit it just right, stab right into the Krakens brain-or she would be like as to drag you down to the depths, before she bled to death-or your men hacked it to pieces with axes and bowshot.

Only the saltiest sailors still dare to use the Dagger method, and you can tell a sailing ship is a Campaigner if they still have the Dagger on the bow-many of the newer ships don't, they're small and flimsy-designed to sneak up on a Kraken and blow her to pieces with cannons and harpoons, or lay down a string of floating explosive barrels and send her black soul to Neptula's Locker. The Daggers the best method, the tried and true-you get more of the meat, oil, and bone that way-but, using explosives is considered safer, it not exactly sporting.

Incidentally, if you ever see a Kraken with a puckered triangular wound in it's oily hide, or several of them-it survived a Dagger sometime in it's life, and it's apt to be a wily one. The Professors will tell you, Kraken's are just animals, not a mean bone in them, no smarter than dogs. I've heard plenty different. They say some Krakens get a taste for men, a taste for revenge-especially the females, which tend to be bigger and meaner. She'll tail a Kraken Ship for days, even weeks-toying with the crew, keeping them awake by smacking the hull in the dead of night with it's long tentacles. Chase away any whales or fish, even other Krakens, ruining your catch-and they'll dodge everything a ship throws at them. Try and damage the ship on purpose, if they can't sink it outright-tear your rudders, and sails off before you even see them coming, pluck watchmen right off the deck. I've even heard some Krakens to be cunning enough to throw barrel bombs back at the ships, like they learned how to use them against us...and once she gets you in the water, she picks you off-one by one...

...You never get quite used to the smell. Or the taste. Kraken meat is edible, sure, better than than starving...still, I'm like most folk-won't eat Krakenmeat without a grimace-except in a Pale Stew, what you might call a Chowder. Makes you feel half a cannibal, it does. Hardly anyone who lives in the docks hasn't lost someone to the sea, then or now. "

[Self]: I'm actually wondering, what's the state of the staple fantasy creatures in our world? Dragons, Rocs, Giant Enemy Crabs? Do they still exist, or did they ever?

[Dwarmin]

"...Anyways, Krakens are brought to the docks and put up to dry, as it were-they're hung out, stretched, and cut into blocks. Usually this happens in the morning-then, afternoon rolls around, the tide rolls back in and they lift the corpses onto ice barges and take them here, to the Kraken District. Where the separated parts gets sent to butcheries, to be processed-teeth into knives and sabers, the skin and fleshy sacks squeezed into oil, bones pounded into dust that's actually used in construction projects, the meat from the shanks, flanks and fins-kraken crystals from the belly of the beast-and various sorts of medicines and elixirs from the organaroos. It's dirty work, for sure, but it's steady work and not as dangerous as catching them-still, a Hauler has to be careful about the death twitches, and exploded ordinance, they can kill him just as quick.

We use them for damn near everything. They say the Noble Folk even eat the Krakens eyes and eggs, consider them a raw delicacy..."

*ramble, ramble, ramble*

[Twinwolf]

"Eating the eyes? That sounds kinda disgusting... and where do they even find the eggs?"

[Dwarmin]

"Nobles have strange tastes, and enough money no one will tell them any way otherwise...

As for eggs-depends on where you hunt-shallow water Kraken, of which they're not so many these days, lay their eggs in any sort of sheltered area, and protect them fiercely. Deep water Krakens carry their eggs in their arms, see, to protect them from predators as they move about the ocean-that's a reason why the biggest, oldest females are so valuable to hunt, why we call them Blackwater Queens. It's considered a sizable bonus if your ship manage to scrap a Kraken with an armful of eggs."

[GiglameshDespair]

Kas repeats his question on Sandhal's research to Miss Tannerson, and then (presuming no major revelation) heads to the docks, to search for the Merciful Annibel.

The academician smiles.
"Of course Sandhal does research, but as mentioned, it doesn't have the body to research... so it'd all be conjecture at this point. I myself was studying the effects of a mix of congealed and treated kraken blood and liver oil on people. Fascinating results... an increase in durabilty with only a minor chance of severe side effects. It might be useful if you think you'll get into some fisticuffs.

As for my colleagues there... well, there's quite the range. Steam engines, Primordial remains, the human body itself. Anything that catches their interest and could be profitable, really. I can't say too much, of course."

She escorts you all to the door and watches as you split up.

---

Kas

In truth, you don't need a map to find the Docks - you just head for the sea along the wide roads, taking care not to be run over by the large wagons that ferry dismemebered kraken pieces to processing in the Kraken ward. The mixture of stone and brickwork fades into the timber-framed, plastered stone of the Docks.

Beggars - crippled sailors, perhaps - sit against the walls of buildings from which the sounds of drunken revelry emerge, and the streets are thick with sailors of all kinds. Most of them have a kraken-tooth ddagger at their belt at the least, and many carry cutlasses or muskets. The occasional Jormundanghr walks through the throng, head and shoulders above everyone else.

On your way to the seafront, you come to a blockage. A wall of people prevents your passage; you crane to see over the arrayed shoulders to see two of the kraken-carts have collided and jammed, and the drivers seem to be arguing rather than trying to untangle their carts. The horses for both are stamping and snorting nervously. The carts have blocked the street almost completely, and only the strongest are managing to force their way through the gap that remains.

"-were a beast, there were! Scared me 'orses, and they dashed forward!" shouts one - a weasely, short man, with ginger hair. He's taken his cap off, and shakes it at an alleyway behind him.

"Bugger was there any beast! You can't control your damn animals, and if my carts damaged I'll have your guts!" The other driver is tall and potbellied, but you get the feeling he'd know how to use the hefty club at his waist.

What do you do?

---

Eleen and Oriana

You head to cross Sarham's bridge, to the University Ward. The Kraken Ward is busy with the men and women who work there. Eleen's rambling monolugue remains uninterrupted all the way across the bridge.

The bridge is tall and narrow, and carriages rattle their way regularly across the cobbles to and fro. You see bronze armoured figures waiting at both ends. They seem to be checking those leaving the bridge, and sure enough, when you reach the end to head in the University Ward one of the Churchmen hold up a hand to stop you.

"Hold," he barks - not hostile, but with the authoritative tones of those used to being obeyed. "What's your business in the Island Wards?"

[Dwarmin]

Eleen removed her token of office* from her belt, and offered it to the man to inspect.

Upon it's metallic face was a symbol in blessed bronze-of a stretched hand, pointedly missing the ring-finger. The hand was reaching downward, as if picking someone up. It gleamed in the sun prettily, a holy icon of the order of the Redeeming Hand.

"Church business, my son. I'm a Seeker of Truth-on the hunt, in the mix, seeking in the dark places...and, this woman is helping me. Might you set us on the path with your blessing, Brother?" She said, sort of hoping not to have to explain everything. The Church had many eyes and ears, and the Redeeming Hand did it's best work without being seen or heard.

*actually in my inventory, btw

[GiglameshDespair]

Eleen and Oriana

The Churchman regards the badge for a moment before nodding.
"I see. Redeeming Hand sect, yes? Continue on your way, then.

May your eyes been open to see the wicked, and your arm strong to strike them down. God be with you."[color]

[Dwarmin]

"Indeed. May your heart seek the hidden truth, and your hand be tempered by mercy. God is with us all." She said, the traditional parting invocation of her own order.

She swept forward unimpeded.

Action: Continue on!

[Twinwolf]

Action: Also onward.

[Dwarmin]

Eleen slowed as they entered the University District, as it wasn't her usual haunt, slowing down-now taking her surroundings in with a more critical eye. A bugger of a place to rob, she recalled...

"Aye, so I've given you enough to go on, Freshet...

Will you tell me about your home-Riordan?"

[Twinwolf]

Oriana blinks, a bit surprised. "Not much to say 'bout it, really. Like I said, no other villages or towns for a good while. Pretty average for a small village, I'd say. It's named after the founder, who apparently cut down all the trees that the houses're made of himself. It's right on da edge of a big forest, so lot'sa trees. Most 'a the people are farmers or woodsmen, but we got a big militia too because of the bandit problems. I'm a part of it, actually..." she rummages through her pockets for a moment, before taking out an insignia of rank, marking her as a lieutenant in the Riordan Militia.