TDM#6: Welcome to Phlan

[balancemod]

I'd bring an umbrella and a good pair of waders if I were you. NAVIGATION WELCOME TO PHLAN Click on the map for a full view BACKGROUND. The port city of Phlan, located just north of the Moonsea region, is not an idyllic landscape, filled with images of swashbuckling sailors and brimming commerce. It's a place that's been razed and rebuilt so many times that even the people of this rough and tumble town seem to embody a particular nonchalance to the chaos that exists within it. Entire streets of the city remain either unfinished or abandoned. Farms on the outskirts of town lend prayer to the Goddess of harvest and bounty, and yet, year after year they struggle to make ends meet. The main road leading into town, called the Iron Route, splits at the path just outside the city's gates. To your left, a quiet and somber collection of headstones litter the grounds of the Valhingen Graveyeard. They remind all who venture into this city from the main road of one simple thing: those who are born and raised here rarely make it out. The Director has sent her Reclaimers here, and as the glass bubbles are shot from the Moon Base, they land with thuds against the lining of the Quivering Forest. There are rumors that there's a powerful item hidden deep, somewhere within the confines of towns dotting the landscape of the Moonsea region. Your purpose is simple. Ingratiate yourselves as travelers, offer aid where it's needed, and keep an ear out on the ground for any whispers that might give lead to the location of a Grand Relic. 1. THE WELCOMERS You've spent a few hours in Phlan already, and have probably seen the entirety of its less than stellar nightlife; it doesn't take incredibly long to walk from one end to the other. There's only one tavern in the entirety of the place, and asking any locals where the best food or ale around is will either get you a cold shoulder or a heartily responded "The Laughing Goblin, of course!" The Laughing Goblin is run by a staff of two; a boisterous human woman who everybody calls Bonnie (although no one actually knows if that's her name or a callback to the sailors who frequent the town during stints in the Moonsea), and a rather rotund man named Mar (who tends the kitchen but has a serious soft spot for cats or juicy gossip). You can almost hear the raucous shouts of vulgarities from just outside the doors of the bar. Even tonight's musical guests, a trio of halfling bards who call themselves the Dandy Warhalls, don't seem to be outpacing the chatter and heated conversations going on within. Opening the doors and making your way into the room gives you more of a sense of what Phlan is really about than any other moment you've spent wandering the streets and being a really unfortunate tourist who decided on the worst vacation spot this side of the Sword Mountains. This place is alive. And in some ways, it's a good welcome to the world of Faerun, as you'll be spending quite a lot of time within these sorts of establishments, attempting to make your way through the inner workings of a possibly unfamiliar world. A. WHAT THE BAR KNOWS. ○ Bonnie is running herself to death trying to keep up with the orders. She can't seem to pour ale quick enough to keep the patron's glasses filled to the brim. She knows that this is a dangerous crowd, but she's tough as nails. A skirmish begins breaking out between two humans at the far end of the bar, disagreeing on the roles of the local law enforcement and how helpful they've been to their beloved town. Bonnie flares up almost immediately. "ENOUGH OF THAT OVER THERE. ONE MORE PUNCH AND I'M CUTTING YOU OFF FOR A WEEK, NIFF." Whoever Niff is, he snaps to immediately and sheepishly scratches the back of his head. You can almost swear you hear a defeated "Yes, ma'am," before Bonnie's attention is drawn elsewhere. She could use a hand, if you're particularly good behind a bar, and won't object to the assistance, even if she's leery at first. She just doesn't trust a whole lot of people. Get to know her a little bit, and she'll even complain about how the lighthouse's lens going out last week has made everyone in town anxious as trade seems to have come to a halt. ○ Reizem, Mof, and Jimbob, the trio performing in the back of the room on instruments and trying to invent the concept of rock and roll, are not exactly being welcomed with the type of applause that they'd like. They'll take a break midway through the set list, and are more than happy to talk to some refined guests of higher culture. Jimbob, who's currently sporting a number of upper cartilage piercings, is happy to talk about how this place is the literal worst. Not just any "worst." The literal worst. He's also a little bit drunk. ○ Mar, the only cook and also the only waiter in the tavern, will be happy to stop at your table and fill you in on "The Happs" in town, much to Bonnie's absolute dismay. A loud voice, even among the patrons that are currently three sheets to the wind, he'll disperse a few gems with the promise that if you know anything, you'll return the favor: ○ The local police, named the Black Fist, have been up in arms over the last few days about a shipment that was supposed to arrive at HQ. No one would bat an eyelash at that, since trade seems to have completely stopped once the lighthouse has gone out, but Mar's friends with a few low ranking guards who play bridge with him on the weekends. Yeah, he plays bridge. They got "real quiet" when he mentioned the missing shipment, covering it up with something about their training supplies getting cut short. Seems fishy, even for a place that reeks of fish pretty constantly. ○ The lighthouse over at Sokol Keep has gone out. "First time since I've been alive, that's happened," actually. He'll explain that one of the few rich families of Phlan (old money, he clears his throat with a sound of detestation in his voice) controls the lighthouse. The Black Fist have been sent over there to investigate but no one knows what the hell is happening. ○ Be careful of the Welcomers, a group of bandits who run around trying to steal anything they can get their hands on. "You'll notice you came across one of 'em on a'count of them missin' a gods forsaken ear." B. EVERY D&D ADVENTURE BEGINS WITH "YOU MEET AT A TAVERN, AND..." And it's a good time to meet your fellow Reclaimers, as well. Some of you might have been paired up during the Test of Initiation into the Bureau of Balance, or maybe you dropped into an apartment room to meet a flatmate you never knew you had (or maybe wanted), but there hasn't been a whole stint of time available to you to really get to know each other. Take a seat, grab some ale, complain about the music. The meal of the day, as it has been every day for the last 2 decades, is cabbage soup. It's kind of delicious. You're going to need to figure out lodging for the night as well. The Laughing Goblin has some rooms, but it's definitely not enough to fit all of the Reclaimers in the upstairs apartments. Lucky for you, your handy-dandy Bureau Issued Adventuring Supplies (BIAS, for short) has a sleeping sack and a tent. Maybe it's time to rough it for the night. C. LIKE TWO SHIPS PASSING IN THE NIGHT On your way out though, should you decide to cut it short and head elsewhere, you should probably stick to the main roads within town. A little ways away from the docks district, you can swear you hear a woman crying. Following the source of the sound leads you into a back alley, and just as you approach, you and your companion find yourself cut off on both ends of the street as the woman stands up, sardonic smile twisting around her lips. "Welcome to Phlan." And wouldn't you know it? She's missing an ear. Let's roll some initiative. 2. AROUND TOWN Your first night in Phlan either went amazingly smooth, filled with nothing but a pleasant experience of pure country bumpkin culture at its finest, or knocking out some thugs in a dark alleyway who were attracted to you by the value of your silver armlet. Either way, don't be discouraged, because it's daytime in Phlan, and time to set out to see what this place is like in the light of day. A. THE MARKET There are various stalls open for trade and business. Several of them seem to be closed up; without fresh fish and meat traded in from the nearby cities, access to certain goods is nearly impossible for any of the residents of Phlan. It's cabbage soup all the way down, it seems. Either way, there's a bit of a crowd coming and going from the center square. It's a great place to meet any number of people, Reclaimers or not. B. WHERE'S MY WRIT? Attempt to enter any of the stores that sell weaponry or armor and the first thing you're going to be asked here is if you've obtained the proper license from the Black Fist in order to purchase weaponry. See, there's a bit of a pay-to-play scheme going on here in Phlan. The merchants are offered protection by the local (mafioso) police in exchange for a highly lucrative bribe system, requiring anyone who wants to purchase anything sharp or potentially stabby to head over to the Black Fist HQ to pick up a "writ." And wouldn't you know it? The old man sitting at the receptionist desk of the Black Fist mansion has a mountain high pile of paperwork to go through. But he supposes he might look the other way if you happen to grease his palms a little bit. Anyone who can distract the earnest, hard-working, underpaid administrator to check that stack of paperwork will notice that there's nothing written on any of the sheets below the top one, which is basically just a diary entry from the man to make it look like official paperwork. While accepting your bribe, he bemoans how hard it is to make it by in Phlan these days. C. THE TELLER OF MISFORTUNES Along one of the side streets, you'll notice that there's a dimly lit shop with a stuffed kraken-looking beast dangling from the window. The smell of burnt sage wafts under the main entrance, and you can make out a row of various gemstones and crystals lined up perfectly within the shop itself. For a small fee of 10 silver pieces, you can go in there and meet Filistrom Stromdoodle, a gnomish woman who'll be happy to read your fortune. No matter how bright your prospects may be, she'll alert you that there's some impending doom in your life to come. She's seen a dark figure in your past, an ex-lover, an obsessed stalker. It's never good news with Filistrom. Ever the lover of theatrics and flare, she'll put on quite the show, and offer to cleanse your spirit of dark influences. Although the ritual does work (you're bathed in sage for a solid 5 minutes straight), she charges a hefty 5 gold pieces for it. Refuse, however, and she will absolutely cast a hidden Bestow Curse on you. And your luck from there only gets worse. 3. MISSING CARGO You've heard that the Black Fist have been fretting about lately over a shipment of goods that they were expecting recently. Remembering the Director's advice here- keeping an ear to the ground, not starting trouble, etc- you may get the hunch that getting to the bottom of the missing cargo might prove to get you some information about what exactly was in that crate that the higher-ups in the police were getting so on edge about. There's a few options in front of you to begin your search. ○ Look around the docks. There's a container yard that holds crates waiting to be shipped to and from the city of Phlan. With the lighthouse out, they can't be loaded onto ships and sent across the Moonsea. The waters are just too dangerous to go without a guiding light. You see a number of crates with city seal of Neverwinter on them. Little weird, since anyone that's spent time getting to know Faerun at the library back on the Moon Base knows that Neverwinter is on the other side of the continent. Searching inside any one of the crates (don't get caught!) you'll mostly find grain and agricultural wares meant for trade along the sea route. But one crate in particular has a subtle acrimonious smell to it. Open it up inside and you'll see it's filled to the brim with statues of Tyr. Tyr is a very well respected and beloved God within Faerun, denoting justice and law. Smash open any of these idols and you'll notice enchanted ink dust. Weird. The shipping label points to an appointed spot outside of town. ○ The location that the label directs you towards is a farm just northeast of town. It's seen better days, for sure- but the one thing that stands out is the remains of a recently burnt down barn. The family who owns the farm tells you that there was an accident a few days ago when the kids were playing Hide and Go Boo by candlelight. The children don't say anything about this. ○ Taking a look at the barn itself, you notice there's a similar smell in the air that's reminiscent of the enchanted ink you found within the crate back at the container yard. ○ The family simply doesn't have anything else to say on the matter when questioned. They're still reeling from the loss of their 2 prized family cows, who have won them the Phlan County Fair Blue Ribbon 3 years running. "Best cream on the Moonsea... such a sad loss for us. We'll miss Ben and Jerry so much." The woman of the house will point out the 3 blue ribbons hanging on the wall. It's the only decoration they have in this place. 4. THE BROKEN LIGHTOUSE Figuring out that the lighthouse being out is a huge source of financial ruin for the town, you eventually make your way over the Sokol Manor. The administrative head of the house sits at her desk, one Leela Sokol, pure white hair tidied neatly with a combover part and bright red lipstick on. She taps her fingers on the desk, looking bored and disinterested in your offer for help, but the second you mention that you're not affiliated at all with the local law enforcement, the very edges of her lips perk upward. "Oh, I do love some adventurers just gallivanting about upon our private property." Thinking it over, she rolls her eyes upward to the ceiling, but she guesses this will just have to do. Those of you from Earth may notice two things: she's wearing a bright red pair of heels and happens to look incredibly similar to Meryl Streep. Anyone who mentions that to her will be met with a confused stare and a request for clarification, mentioning that the Streep family over in Melvaunt, a neighboring town on the Moonsea, has no ties to House Sokol. Whoosh. She relates to you that the lighthouse has been tended to by her beloved nephew, Philip, for the last decade and although she wears the fiercest poker face you've ever seen in your life, you get the sense that she has no idea what's going on over at the Keep. Communication has come to a halt both to and from Thorn Island, just off the coast of the city, ever since the only ferryman in town passed away 2 weeks ago. The lighthouse and the Keep are the only things of note on the island that she's aware of. Black Fist Captain Grim and a team of 6 Black Fist guards are typically stationed there, but attempts at talking to the Black Fist over at their HQ have been fruitless. The excuse seems to be the same; most of the force is out either taking care of a recent surge of bandit activity by the town's local gang, the Welcomers, or are otherwise concerned with finding some missing cargo that never showed up a little while back. She'll allow you to head over there and find out what's going on, provided you don't go and talk to anyone in the Black Fist. House Sokol has a reputation to keep up, after all, and tarnishing that by showing distrust in the militia of the city doesn't bode well for her or her family. "Oh, and should you get there in one piece, please do remember not to steal anything. I'll know." Time to get a group of fellow Reclaimers together to find out just what went down over on Thorn Island. A. ARRIVAL AT SOKOL KEEP The Keep is on Thorn Island, surrounded by water in all directions. It's a rough swim, as the Moonsea isn't exactly a calm body of water. Maybe you can scope out a rowboat to help you get there. Either way, coming ashore at the massive mansion will be rather quiet and uneventful. There are no butlers to greet you. No Black Fist standing watch at the gate. Maybe Philip was just that reclusive, or maybe there's another reason that this place feels abandoned. There are 5 main structures on Thorn Island- the Sokol Keep itself, the lighthouse, an eastern tower, a western tower, and the barracks, used to house the guards that come and go from the mainland during their stay here. The stone mansion itself has two floors, and up until recently, looks like it was incredibly well maintained. Funny, since you didn't see any attendants on the island to greet you. Not a speck of dust, anywhere. The banquet hall looks filled as if an evening meal was being served just a few hours ago. Unfortunately, whoever was served this delicious looking feast didn't have time to finish it. It looks like it's been sitting out for days, and the smell of rotting meat is more than just a little pervasive to your senses. B. LOOKING AROUND After searching long enough on this abandoned island, you start to notice a few things that don't quite add up. First of all, Philip's room has a number of books on the occult hidden neatly among the academic literature peppered about in his personal library. Although nothing seems to indicate a struggle has occurred anywhere, investigating the ground around the barracks on the outskirts of the manor indicates freshly upturned dirt that looks like it was recently tilled over to cover something up. Perhaps someone was dragged, but it's really hard to figure out who, or what, could've done that. Your examination of the lighthouse itself shows a crystal at the top of the structure encased in glass that's been warded off and reinforced through magical means. There's no indication that someone had come here to snuff out the light or steal the lens from which the lighthouse operates. It just simply... won't glow. Ransacking the eastern tower reveals a place that doesn't look like it's been touched in ages, aside from a chair that's been moved, uncovering a trail of clean floor in the midst of dust literally everywhere. The dust seems to be everywhere, and spending a particularly long amount of time in here makes your lungs hurt and your eyes water. You do, however, find a small Holy Symbol, a rosary of beads with a small coin on it, the image of a Faerunian god etched into the metal. You're starting to get the sense that this island has been dealing with some below-board stuff lately. Cults, religious symbols. And did you just hear that chair begin to creak? Why do those empty bookshelves up against the wall look like they're vibrating? Time to get the hell out of dodge on this one. Investigating the western tower, however, reveals a bare floor that's been broken into via a pickax. Move some of the earth away and you'll find a hatch. Wouldn't you know it? It's unlocked. C. THE CATACOMBS If you didn't get the chills from the seemingly haunted eastern tower, dropping down through the hatch reveals a damp, dark passageway after a drop of roughly 10 feet below. The catacombs smell damp, have a particularly unsettling feeling about them, and touching the walls reveals an ungodly amount of mud that never seems to quite settle. Prestidigitation that off, if you will. Going deeper, you realize that you're descending below sea level. Eventually, you hit a snag- in the form of a whirlpool that seems to block your way through to the other side. It moves concentrically, and trying to cross it without a plan will end up getting you sucked right into it. At the bottom? You're tossed around like a gnome being fired out of a canon, and hitting the bottom of that pool of water reveals sharpened bones. Most likely human in nature. Better move fast, you can almost feel something reaching out to touch you. Provided you don't drown to a group of skeletons sitting at the basin of the whirlpool, you'll come to a wide open room with an altar towards the back of the cave structure, emanating a sickly violet light. On a raised platform, the body of Leela's beloved nephew, Philip, lies sacrificed. There's a trail of blood that leads from the dais to the pool of water surrounding this statue. Looking closer, you notice that the statue itself depicts something with the body of a woman and 6 slithery heads of a snake, crested with jade jewels for eyes. A hollow laughter fills out from the room as a figure moves forward from the statue. Where the hell did that come from? "Stay for dinner, we've got the early bird special prepared, just for you." Of course, it's Captain Grim. Did you ever think that a dude named Grim wouldn't be evil? He's sacrificed the poor boy and is now currently possessed by some unrepentant six-headed snake beast. His tongue slides out of his mouth, licking his bottom lip. Yep, that's more snake than human too. Make sure you kill this guy. D. THE AFTERMATH Killing, or otherwise subduing Captain Grim (what's your alignment, again?) is enough to make the lighthouse mysteriously come back to life. Whatever desecration was going on in the catacombs below seems to be lifted. Too bad you can't be treated like heroes upon your return to Phlan proper. Leela has made absolutely sure to spread a rumor at the Laughing Goblin about how efficient the Black Fist were at resolving the issue on Thorn Island. Oh well, you weren't doing this for fame and accolades, right? 5. CALL TO ARMS (DEXTROUS): THE SCROLL THIEF The Bureau of Balance has done pretty much everything they could have for this small port town on the Moonsea. The lighthouse has been restored so commerce once again begins to breathe life into the docks district. Sailors have changed their tune from anxious boredom and nights at the Laughing Goblin to the simple blessing that returning to work provides. That is to say, they've (mostly) sobered up and got back on the straight and narrow for the time being. But it doesn't end here, not quite yet. There's the sound of a parade of footsteps emanating out from the direction of the Black Fist headquarters. The entire guard has begun to give chase, and the city is quickly mobilized to a state of apprehension that you haven't seen at all during your stay here. Wherever you are, you're stopped nearly dead in your tracks as a man, not much older than 20, knocks you or one of your party members over on a beeline straight to the ships. You see, tucked neatly under his arm, an ornate looking piece of parchment paper that's been rolled up tightly. The man smiles at you, apologizing, just as a battalion of Black Fist agents begin to approach off from the distance. The youngster who has just collided with you turns his head to look upon this scene and groans. "Typical lugheads. Just what I was expecting outta this shit hole." And he takes off for the docks. He needs to get out of Phlan, and quick. What do you do? OOC: A LETTER FROM YOUR MOD TEAM Hello everyone and welcome to the sixth and final TDM for Balance! The purpose of this TDM is to give you an idea of what our missions look like. It already assumes that your character has been initiated into the Bureau of Balance, and has been sent out on their first mission to retrieve a Grand Relic. To that end, threads in this TDM will not be considered game canon. What we're aiming to do with Balance is a little different from your typical DWRP game. In a typical setting, the mods set up some NPCs that have limited contact with you, the player, under a very structured set of conditions. For example, The Director is one of those NPC types, as are her two counterparts (Davenport and Garfield). However, in Balance, we'd like to take a moment to instill something early on as we run through the first TDM of the game. We've listed a few NPC's up there to give you a flavor of their personality and what their look and feel constitutes. Those NPCs are completely pilotable by any of you, at any time. What we're looking to do is give you all a structure for adventure and seeing where you all can take it. It's part of our core value and how we'd like to see things move along. Be amazing- not just in the sense of being amazing to each other and to your characters, but also with your character choices in-game. The world is completely malleable and up to you to meld, mend, repair, or bust. In a nutshell, what we're saying is... go wild. It's okay not to ask permission for something cool you'd like to do. We've given you some outlines of events, but the story that you create as you thread these out is entirely yours. And we, as a mod team, can't wait to see what you bring to the table. blurb code by photosynthesis

Comments

gilgamesh (caster) | fate | cleric

[fwahaha]

i. like two ships passing in the night

What are you looking to me for? [Despite the eyebrow he raises, Caster could not look more bored with the present situation. He makes no move to stand closer to his companion. His posture does not shift and there isn't a visible ounce of tension to him.] You were the fool who wanted to help.

[It had actually taken some serious persuasion to get Gilgamesh to abandon the main street (if a path could be called that in a dingy little town like Phlan) and follow the sounds of the woman crying to the backalley. He didn't make any specific arguments as to why he was refusing, but he only conceded when an agreement appeared to be reach that whatever trouble was to be found would be up to his companion to resolve. Not him.]

It's your mess. Clean it up.

ii. the market

Pathetic, [he mutters to himself.]

[He is not referring to the state of the market as far as the stalls themselves are concerned. Uruk was really not in much better shape when he returned as far as closures and meager offerings were concerned. No, what he's referring to is the people themselves. It would be one thing if they had grown complacent, but that seems too generous a label. They seem to merely accept everything as it is, and Gilgamesh cannot help but see this as a lack of pride.]

[He's also real sick of cabbage soup already and pushes the bowl away from himself back to the vendor.]

iii. missing cargo

[The King of Heroes turns slowly towards his companion.]

Was I unclear about the importance of stealth?

[While true that it's difficult to pry open crates without making any noise whatsoever, the gusto or lack of care his companion has chosen to open them with leaves something to be desired. Gilgamesh cannot tell if the clattering has brought about any attention just yet, but that's clearly not stopped him from commenting.]

Perhaps I ought to head back and find those atrocious musicians from last night to serenade us while we work.

iv. wildcard

((want something different? go for it! feel free to hmu tho if you need/want to hash anything out by pming this journal or finding me at rebreather))

iii

[motherfucking_ghost]

Hey. [Church shoots sparkly mcsparkles a look, though it's very...subdued by the fact that he doesn't have a face, therefore it's just a golden visor looking in his direction--before rummaging through one of the crates.] You wanna try your hand at busting open some crates, you are more than welcome.

And I liked those guys, they had good rhythm.

[fwahaha]

[The visor does inhibit the effect of the look somewhat, but Gilgamesh's self-importance is honestly what renders it mostly ineffective on him. He gives Church a bland look in response and makes no motion of assisting in the opening of the crates. Someone needs to keep watch, and like it or not, Gilgamesh is not particularly suited for opening or rummaging about in crates.]

[He is, however, suited for providing criticism as he's already proven.]

How could you tell? They seemed barely capable of playing their designated instruments.

[motherfucking_ghost]

That's because you're lacking in something very important to human existence. Namely taste.

[So there, nyeh. Nobody appreciates early rock and roll around here, philistines. Most of Church's top half disappears entirely into the crate as he rummages, and when he reemerges, he's got...straw and hay poking out of places under his armor.]

More farm stuff. Man, I hope all this keeps. Do we know what exactly we're looking for, anyway?

god, your church is so good???

[fwahaha]

[Gilgamesh quite intentionally scoffs loud enough to be heard over all the rummaging in the crate at being accused of lacking in taste. But rather than continue this pointless argument (because he knows he's the one with taste, thanks), he focuses back on the task at hand as Church stands back upright. Despite his general irritability, Gilgamesh can't help the amused smirk or snort at how ridiculous Church looks with his new accessories.]

Of course. We're looking for the crate marked "Especially Suspicious, Do Not Look."

[...The narration did say he focused, not that he was helpful.]

<3!!!

[motherfucking_ghost]

Some help you are. Is your job to provide snarky commentary? [He attempts to brush off some of the straw. It is not...wholly successful, but whatever, next box he dives into might just have more of the same.

And he'll open it as loud as he wants!!! Which is...okay, no, he's not deliberately gonna make sound, but once again, sealed crates, prying them open, not the quietest heisting job to do.]

Cuz I'll let you know now, for future reference, that standing around providing snarky commentary is my job.

[fwahaha]

[As Church opens yet another crate, Caster's jaw clenches slightly. At least it seems there's some iota of an attempt to not make a horrific amount of noise like the first crate in its opening, but his lips still curl in slight displeasure.]

My job is to be the King of Uruk. [Beyond that, he owes nothing to anyone.] That I am here at all is truly beneath me, but the rest of the city bores me. You ought to consider yourself fortunate to be in my company.

[So, his snarky commentary is a motherfucking gift.]

[You're welcome.]

[motherfucking_ghost]

See, your lips are flappin', but all I'm hearing is blah, blah, blah blah blah, blah blah blah blah blah me. You might be a kingly king back home, but here, you're king of fuck and all.

Welcome to the bottom of the totem pole, buddy. Sucks, don't it?

[fwahaha]

[Had he been brought from his own world's destruction in his Archer form, it's likely this would have devolved into an immediate threat of death, but... Gilgamesh has a little more restraint than that as a Caster class Servant. So, he merely narrows his eyes, giving Church a look that would cause most men's blood to run cold.]

I will ignore your ignorance this time, but I would advise that you hold your tongue, mongrel, and continue your work.

i

[materialblades]

I know, I know!

[ Lloyd sounds more irritated with himself than he does with Gilgamesh, actually; the cleric's attitude isn't really appreciated right now, but he's not really wrong. Deal or not, he's the one that got them into this, so it's only fair that he get them out.

He takes a look behind them to survey how many people are surrounding them, drawing his swords. He waits until prompted to engage, still sort of hoping that they'll just buzz off. ] All right, who's first?

[fwahaha]

[It seems a small group, only a sum total of four people including the woman. Clearly, they do not anticipate to draw in more than a few people at a time with this particular ruse. The numbers alone are likely enough for any single or pair of people to hand over whatever it will take to avoid a confrontation.]

[Gilgamesh's gaze drifts about from one to the next. It's obvious that as far as each ruffian is concerned, there is no distinction between Gilgamesh and Lloyd; they're both rife with opportunity for a profit. Perhaps Gilgamesh especially with how many gold accessories adorn his person. He still intends to not involve himself in this, but he does not stop scanning for the first sign of movement.]

[The woman speaks again, her grin all the sharper the moment Lloyd draws his swords. She seems perhaps the most eager for a little more than merely robbing them of their valuables.]

This will be over in a matter of seconds. I'll offer you one last chance to do this the easy way.

ii

[vandymion]

[ Meanwhile, Farnese is really enjoying her bowl of soup -- she's grown to appreciate any hot meal -- so when she sees this happen she looks a little confused. ]

Is ... something the matter?

[fwahaha]

[Gilgamesh shoots her a look the moment she speaks to him. How dare she!?]

Of course something is the matter, you fool! Look around you.

[vandymion]

[ She looks a little taken aback, before looking around. Looks like business as usual for her. ]

... I'm afraid I don't understand.

[fwahaha]

[Is it possible for someone to roll their eyes without actually rolling them? At the very least, Caster appears tempted with her response.]

Who settles to eat nothing but cabbage soup constantly? Who looks at a marketplace like this and is satisfied!?

ii

[thewrongchild]

What are you so upset about?

[They can guess, of course. But there is a point of pride in forcing the King of Babylon to express his cranky little baby feelings.]

[Not that Enkidu is eating the cabbage soup either, however. It's like drinking liquid farts? Nah.]

[fwahaha]

[Gilgamesh's brow furrows and there is no such thing as volume control now that Enkidu has asked.]

What am I upset about? These people allow a group of thugs to run the city and do nothing! [He doesn't specify between the Black Fist or the Welcomers. There is really no point in it.] They eat this for every meal and simply shrug over the state of their farmlands!

Not even the poorest in Uruk would settle for a life like this, Enkidu, but these people walk about having completely surrendered their pride.

I am not upset, I am--

[...disgusted with these mongrels was to be the end of that sentence, but it stops short when Gilgamesh notices the look in his friend's eyes. His expression softens, but only enough to shift into something a little more suspicious as he lifts his chin.]

This is amusing to you, isn't it?

[thewrongchild]

What gives you that impression?

[Well, that certainly isn't a no. And to tell the truth, obviously it is, but needling Gilgamesh isn't their only motivation. Or—]

[Okay, it is. But they do so not only for amusement! It's also important to keep Gilgamesh motivated, and sometimes getting righteously indignant is helpful in that regard. Beyond that, this place really is depressing, and they could use a pick-me-up. Gilgamesh is inspiring at times.]

[And hilarious when mad. But whatever.]

You expect better of people. Your high standards have brought you low. There's an interesting irony in that, don't you think?

Still. I wonder what's to be done about it.

[fwahaha]

[Gilgamesh scoffs, not particularly interested in immediately making the problems plaguing Phlan his problem beyond what the Reclaimers have been sent here to do.]

They possess the solution, but not the will for it.

[thewrongchild]

It disappoints you when people don't possess the will to accomplish greatness. [Or, they correct themselves after a glance around:] Decency.

I would argue that the lack of a competent leader makes a difference in a people's will. But I am not human, so maybe my opinion is irrelevant.

get out with that memeing

[fwahaha]

[If they hadn't corrected themselves, Gilgamesh would have. There may be some among the denizens of Phlan that might have the potential for greatness -- it's not entirely unheard of -- but they are likely few and far between, and certainly not reflective of the general population.]

No, you have identified the issue correctly. Humans are capable of much, but not without something to unite them.

[In their world, it was once the gods. But when their power waned, they had to rely on one another. It stands to reason that it ought to be the same here. But who among these people has it in them to resist the tide of acceptance that they've created?]

you know i won't.

[thewrongchild]

[They nod. This makes sense, given what they've seen of the world. There are few with the internal strength to lead. Many of those who believe they have it are wrong; some of those who believe they don't are also wrong. Regardless, in a power vacuum, corruption festers.]

It's a lot easier to be clay.

[Cheerfully. Except not exactly; clay isn't sentient except under very special circumstances. Still, it's a good joke.]

That's why they sent me to you, you know. Even if they didn't intend it entirely. You would have made an awful leader of men, once upon a time.

[✌️☮️🤷]

II.

[aviphile]

A bit of salt helps it go down easy.

[Guess who it is? It's da Vinci! She's chosen to be his companion for this fine dining experience with her characteristic effervescent smile on her face. Even though she's also sick to death of cabbage, she's determined to lead by example and to handle this situation with grace and panache.]

I can't recommend the other dishes on the menu, I'm afraid.

[fwahaha]

[Ah, da Vinci... A perfect angel too good for this world and anywhere else. A beautiful genius that inspires half-glass full in everyone she meets.]

[...]

[Unless it's the King of Heroes and he's attempting real hard to be a grump. He's gonna take a lot of bullying.]

What menu?

ii

[friendboned]

[ i'm not bothering with the font so let's just pretend while i cry about how rusty i am. ]

HUMAN... NO, DO NOT CALL YOURSELF THAT!!!

[ gilgamesh is truly.... so selfless.... calling himself pathetic so that papyrus would feel better about not being able to eat cabbage soup. because he is not able to do it. it goes right through him, literally. ]

I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS... WILL HELP YOU THROUGH THIS TRYING TIME!!

[ what trying time, exactly? ]