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[Tack]

Both of the new hires shake on the terms and the party becomes slightly larger, but the day is still young, there is a specialist to hire (and some general infantry for the ambitious), and dusk may be seeing the party split, but along which lines?
46

[Caellath]

Nabih shook the man's hand and nodded towards the rest of the group. "It's a pity I do not have the time to purchase cloth and sew a new attire myself." he commented as they left the Kettlefish. "Now Reece, could you lead me towards the dressmaker? There's much to be done still and I need those garments for tonight."

[Tack]

"Yes of course. Just our luck, as we shall have to cross the river again, however the woodsman is on the same face."
Soon the party is waiting for a bridge to rise so they may continue onto the dressmakers.

[Caellath]

Nabih calmly committed the new employees and expenditures to his records with practiced strokes of his traditional wooden pen, unconsciously finding himself under Ghaminia's shadow as his careful calligraphy stained the firmly secured paper. "So how good is the dressmaker? Does she have assistants? Do you know where she acquires her cloth from?" he asked, momentarily raising his head from his papers to look at the locals.

[Tack]

"Sorry, but once again I find myself in unfamiliar territory. You seem to be possessed of a natural curiosity which sadly I have not."

Meanwhile, Tiat sidles up to Jack and begins speaking in a low voice. "Regiments, eh? Are ye from up north?

[Playergamer]

Jack glances at Tiat, inspecting the knight's chainmail shirt for a second. "I'm a king's man, if that's what you're asking. Served in the Royal Regiments a spell. Why're you asking?"

[Caellath]

"Since birth." Nabih said with a smile, apparently proud of his natural curiosity. At least it hadn't gotten him killed so far, which was good. "That is why I have studied many crafts and arts and continue to perfect them to this day. I like to know how things are done, when and by who. So far taking that approach has granted me a good variety of skills and allowed me to develop my own ideas after evaluating the existing ones."

"Well... Do you know if she supplies uniforms?"

[Tack]

OOC Thread

Spoiler: Name: Larok Ar'grush (click to show/hide)

Race: Ogre
Gender: Male
Bio: An excellent specimen of the fine Ogre species, Larok grew up in a relatively small stronghold along a lake. He learned fishing as a hobby, but never took to it, since it was time-consuming and didn't accomplish anything except making lots of neat little toothpicks.
Larok is also completely bullheaded and doesn't stop working on a task until the job is done. ...Ever. Or he dies. So far that hasn't happened.
Deciding once he was of age that he should put his talent for swordsmanship to use, as the stronghold's militia was full enough anyway, he worked for months without stopping to save up enough gold and start a company.

Fighter from the Hills
Unnecessarily Obstinate
- Real Ogres Use Swords!
- Unshakeable Will
- I Pity The Weak

Equipment Aspects:
Weapons:
Armor:

Skills:
Great (4+)
- Physique (+5)
Good (+3)
- Fight
- Provoke
Fair (2+)
- Investigate
- Will
- Deceive
Average (1+)
- Rapport
- Empathy
- Notice
- Athletics (+0)

Stunts
- Shrug it off - You can use Physique to defend against Fight attacks made with fists or blunt instruments, though you always take 1 shift of stress on a tie.
-
-
Stress:
Physical: [1][2][3][4]
Mental:   [1][2][3]

Consequences: [2][4][6] - {2}

Fate: 4
Silver: 117
Copper: 0

Spoiler: Name: Nabih Shahin Al-Safi (click to show/hide)

Race: Human
Gender: Male
Bio: Born in a trading clan, Nabih was one of Sahid Al-Safi's and Naleiya Al-Safi's few children. Given a good education thanks to his parents' stable financial conditions and the advantages of their profession, Nabih turned out to be a bright kid with a good measure of curiosity and creativity. Saleiya was responsible for most of the couple's accounting and also a rather spiritual woman moderately versed in the arts of magic, which she taught Nabih and a few of his siblings. Meanwhile, Sahid was the face of the operation and a man with a dream; while mankind was more numerous than most races and a formidable force due to it, the man was an admirer of dwarven engineering and was consequently sore about human inability to craft so much of what the xenophobic, stout race was able to create. He wanted human technology to stop complacently feeding off trading and antiquated notions and move forward, without any assistance if necessary.

His parents' teachings and interests rubbed off on Nabih as he grew into a capable, intelligent man with a dream. Too many dreams, actually; whether it was due to his passion for crafting, knowledge or magic, he began to piece together mechanisms even during his sleeping hours, turning him into a lucid dreamer with an objective. Learned and feeling comfortable about his own intellectual baggage, he managed to loan the necessary sum of money to start a mercenary organization, benefiting from the clan's nature to not be drowned in interest and/or threats. Why a mercenary organization? To be safe you need how to wage war and he's realized technology like firearms are a game-changer in the field of battle. In Nabih's opinion, having a body of warriors to field-test any improvements on military tech is less risky than giving them out to strangers.

Nabih is a young-faced inventor and magic practitioner as well as an accomplished trader, partially due to the right connections in his clan and out of it. He's bronze-skinned and has a slightly wide, straight-cut nose between emerald eyes. He prefers to wear the traveling clothes of his people, pants and shirts complimented by robes and headscarves to protect against the sun and elements. The trading clan he's part of is one of the few that established themselves in a section of the Surrounds generations ago to create an outpost for the wandering caravans of his people.

High Concept: Steel Wizard of the Forge
Trouble: No Lore By Man Untouched
-True Traders Haggle
-Formal Bearing and Education
-Clan and Connections: Assets & Debts

Equipment Aspects:
Weapons: Worn Scimitar and crossbow
Armor: Sturdy Cloth

Skills:
Great (4+)
-Crafts
Good (3+)
-Contacts
-Lore
Fair (2+)
-Athletics
-Rapport
-Will
Average (1+)
-Empathy
-Investigate
-Notice
-Physique

Stunts
-Bloodline of Bargain: +2 bonus to Rapport when used to haggle.
-Extensive Network: Gain a +2 bonus to Contacts when using it to Create an Advantage to know the perfect purveyor of specific goods or services.
-Inventor's Insight: Inventions created by succeeding with style gain an (extra) useful Aspect or Stunt.

Stress:
Physical: [1][2][3]
Mental:   [1][2][3]

Consequences: [2][4][6]

Fate: 3
Silver: 8344
Copper: 0

Spoiler: Name: Ghaminia Al-Haral (click to show/hide)

Race: Human
Gender: F
Bio: When Nabih turned fourteen, his parents got him a bodyguard and servant - one to be dedicated to him rather than a general house servant. It was fashion at that time for them to be female - less obtrusive, more likely to be underestimated... and often nicer on the eyes, too.

So it was that Ghaminia entered Nabih's life - she was a few years older, and while it was never explained where she had come from, she was a quiet and omnipresent figure in his background. She tended to his hurts when his experiments went amok, and assisted when needed - mainly with her prodigious physical strength.

A quiet, tall woman, she has a tendency to blend in to surroundings. Her skin is dusky, her features plain - aside from the claw-marks that trace down the right side of her face. She's trained in grapples, and a brutal, close range fighting style with a pair of karembit knives. A tiger skin is draped over her shoulders, with the head forming a hood she can pull up over her own. Besides the knives at her waist, she has another woven into her hair, and two small straight blades concealed at her calves. Her flowing silks do a good job of hiding the thin-yet-sturdy armour beneath.

She also knows how to move silently and pick locks... her past was not a gentle one, nor on the right side of the law. By becoming a servant, her old life was abandoned. Her old name was abandoned when she went into servanthood, but in some drinking dens the name "The Silent Tiger" is still whispered...

High Concept: loyal strongwoman bodyguard with a bloody past.
Trouble: Ghosts of the past
-
-
-

Skills:
Great (4+)
- Physique
Good (3+)
- Stealth
- Fight
Fair (2+)
- Notice
- Provoke
- Burgalry
Average (1+)
- Ride
- Will
- Craft
- Decieve

Stunts
-
-
-

Equipment
Weapons: Knives for every occasion.
Armour: Concealed Lammelar.

Stress:
Physical: [1][2][3][4]
Mental:   [1][2][3]

Consequences: [2][4][6]

Fate: 3
Silver: 280
Copper: 0

Spoiler: Name: Riskiss Malodie (click to show/hide)

Race: Goblin
Gender: Female
Bio: Riskiss was born, like all goblins, to a large family. In her case, the family was wealthy and established, in Dashess, the heads of the household being Krafit Malodie and his mistress, Retuin Sihil. She never much enjoyed pushing and shoving her way to the top of the pack, nor indeed did she very much like being there. Too stressful, with her siblings and cousins always trying to find ways to pull her back down or put her in her place. Besides, she didn't have the brawn for physical confrontation, and it was so much easier to just get other people to do it for her. Especially her brother, Kars. Kars had always been nice to her. He was generally quiet and kind, for a goblin. He was very easy to manipulate. But as she kept him in place at the top of the pack, never seeming to step out of line, as she found her niche in the struggle, she felt worse and worse about doing so. She began working on other people, so he could be himself more. It was nice, to see someone who wasn't utterly ruthless in the lead, for once. Relaxing, almost. Eventually she tried to ease herself back; attachments were dangerous, if you thought about it. And it was alright, for a while; she dealt with threats that might get him cast out, and enjoyed life in the Malodie manor.

But inevitably the good ends. Kars was not ruthless enough to stay strong on his own. His elders knew that. When Riskiss was away to conduct one of the first business deals she was meant to for the house, he made a mistake. The price he paid, was, of course, his position as a member of the house. A few weeks later when Riskiss returned, her good mood was broken by learning of her brother's exile. She cared for the rest of her family, of course, had close friends...but they were not her responsibility. Kars was. And now he was gone. Soon she was gone too. Riskiss knew how to play people. (Unfinished)

High Concept: Upper-Crust Puppet-Master
Trouble: Power Brings Only Grief
- There Is Such A Thing As Being Too Clever...
- Power Lies in Lying and Laying
- Killing Is For Ruffians And Imbeciles

Weapons: Nicked Dagger
Armor: Old Reinforced Silks

Skills
Great (4+)
- Rapport
Good (3+)
- Contacts
- Deceive
Fair (2+)
- Stealth
- Empathy
- Lore
Average (1+)
- Will
- Notice
- Investigate
- Provoke

Stunts
- Dulcet Tones: +2 to first impression Rapport roll.
- White Lies: Can use Deceive to boost a Rapport (?)
- 'Spy Networks' Sounds So Unrefined, Darling: Can use Contacts in place of Investigate in areas with networks built up.

Stress:
Physical: [1][2]
Mental:   [1][2][3]

Consequences: [2][4][6]

Fate: 3
Silver: 350
Copper: 0

Spoiler: Name: Oliver Travis (click to show/hide)

Name: Oliver Travis
[/b]Race:[/b] Human
Gender: Male
Bio: Sergeant Travis. Bit of a legend among the men-at-arms and dogs of war. They say he was killed in battle, but nobody believes that. Ol' Olly would eat himself to death before dying in battle! Oh, sure, the paunch might give you a bit of a bad first impression, but believe me, Olly Travis is one of the most dangerous soldiers there is. He's too smart to get killed by some kid with a sword.

Oliver Travis, a country farmer, enlisted in one of the Royal Regiments when he was only a teenager. He can hardly remember which war, or how old he was. Ol' Olly was born to be a soldier, and he never looked back. "Combat valor" won him a promotion to sergeant-at-arms, and he spent years, decades even serving whichever monarch still had a head on their shoulders. Oh, the kings and knights liked to think they were in charge, but when Olly spoke, the men listened.

The accepted story is that Sergeant Travis died in combat. Others say that some blue-blood noble was giving his men suicidal orders, and he put a crossbow bolt in his visor. It wasn't the first officer Travis killed to save his lads, but it was the last. He should've been executed, but a handful of friends in high places owed Olly a favor or two. Now, the old soldier is out on the street, living a lie. And he needs money.

High Concept: Born Soldier, Forced Deserter
Trouble:
-Born to March
-Looking After the Lads
-Cast Out


Equipment Aspects:
Weapons: Old Arming Sword
Armor: None. (Oliver had to sell off his old armor, since it was too obviously that of a soldier.)
(Starting gear is usually rough or shoddy)

Skills (Free to leave blank during the start of the game)
Great (+4)
-
Good (3+)
-
-
Fair (2+)
-
-
-
Average (1+)
-
-
-
-

Stunts
-Back In...: Bonus to any Contacts check that involves the military.
-Drill Sergeant Nasty: +2 to Provoke attacks against any military-trained/disciplined character.
-This is an Emergency: Create an Advantage bonus to take control of any group of panicked or confused people.

Physical: [1][2]
Mental:   [1][2]

Consequences: [2][4][6]

Served in the Royal Regiments a spell. Why're you asking?"

"Don't recognize ye, is all. Where'd ye serve?"

""Well... Do you know if she supplies uniforms?"

"She might think herself above it, but I couldn't say. I'm certain she functions just as any other seller of wares though, a kind word or greased palm would serve to make her quite amenable."

[Playergamer]

"I was in the Astye Provincials, out west. Astye's a piss-poor place, full of dirt farmers. None of the lads had enough money for armor, so they made us pikemen. Figured we could keep 'em at a distance, and wouldn't even need armor. They fought like the dickens, though. Good lads, they was." Jack smiles at the memories from his time in the Provincials. "So, am I right in guessing you were in the regiments, then?"

[Tack]

[Rapport=3] > [2]
Success
Tiat replies testily, "Yeah. Was. Stationed at Glynnfell, until Red Bryce disbanded the damn regiment."


Finally the bridge rises and the group surges across. Nabih and Ghamina enter the dressmakers to be greeted by a pleasant Hezel, only for her look to become slightly alarmed as they are followed in by two soldiers, one hunter, a cook and an ogre - then, to Nabih and Ghamina's surprise, a familar goblin.

[Rolepgeek]

Riskiss' eyebrow rose as she entered the shop. "Well. It certainly is a surprise, seeing you here. Do you come around often?"

She felt better after her nap, though it had been perhaps a bit prolonged, and she'd had to run some errands afterwards. But still, she wanted to drop in to see her friend Hezal. It had been a bit too long since they'd caught on gossip, and besides, it was always good to get a change of accouterments when one was aiming for a change in lifestyle.

[SOLDIER First]

Larok walked grumpily with the group. You get hired and then your new boss immediately leaves with you to go see some random person. Ridiculous.

[Caellath]

"I see. I was planning on making my company's uniforms, though. Are you familiar with Eastern calligraphy?" Nabih inquired Reece, shuffling his papers to show the man one of a few he had. "This is Bismillah. I can decorate objects in this manner, see."

The rest of the trip was spent showing Reece a few other elaborate designs and asking whether he'd be ok with having his name written in Eastern calligraphy on his uniform. The group had barely touched upon the dressmaker when they were greeted by the goblin Nabih had met the day before. Surely an eventful few hours for him. "It is a pleasure to see you once more as well. We have just arrived, and it is my first time here."

[Tack]

Hezel raises an eyebrow. "My, Is there an upcoming party I haven't been told about? Reece, ruin your clothes yet? Don't say I didn't warn you, silk can deal with wear and tear, but it's certainly not resistant to the horrid stains from all those trees you climb or... whatever you people do."

-Prideful- [Rapport=0] > [2]
Reece is in a sullen mood after being informed of yet another area in which his education is lacking. He brushes off Nabih "Yes yes, it's quite pretty. I'm sure had I been more well-travelled such as yourself I would know the decorative writing of a distant civilization, the daily routine of a dressmaker or the price of a hauberk or what the milk of a great she-bear tastes like." and gives Hezel a warning look as she berates him "Hello Hezel, my clothes are fine, thank you. This is actually my employer, Nabih Shahin Al-Safi, and I would thank you not to make me look any worse in front of him" before leaving to pore over richly ornamented tunics.

Hezel, to her credit, is unfazed. "Risky darling, my bolts are behind the counter as usual; you know what you like."
"And for the gentleman... Al-Safi?" she inquires politely.

[GiglameshDespair]

At Reece's tone, Ghaminia shifted slightly. It wasn't a threatening movement - barely a movement at all - but it was enough to remind him of her presence.