TDM#1: 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 first TDM for Balance, an experimental DWRP game that looks to combine light elements of time-honored and classic strategy games like FFT, Octopath Traveler, Tactics Ogre, and the wonderful worldbuilding experience of D&D. Our setting and concept is heavily based on the McElroy Brothers' popular D&D podcast, The Adventure Zone. If you're here, there's a good chance that you have interest in some, or all, of the components listed above. First off, this TDM is a little bit different than the TDM's that will come in the future app cycles. This one is structured like a mission mod log and assumes your character has already come to the Bureau, passed the Test of Initiation, and have been deployed on your first foray out into the world of Faerun. The reason we've done this is two-fold: to avoid any possible duplication with the introduction log (as you'll have the opportunity to thread out your arrivals), and we wanted to give everyone a sense of what the real core of the game will be like. So, for the purposes of this specific TDM, and only this one, you cannot take events that occur here as canon upon apping into Balance. Future ones will be more aligned with the Moon Base cycle and can potentially account for CR to transfer into the game. 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

Daisukenojo "Beat" Bitou | The World Ends With You | CRAU - Ryslig (Troll) | Barbarian

[soundsurfing]

[ Pre-note: Beat's a CRAU coming from Ryslig so his appearance is definitely different! While he tends to wear a cloak around himself to hide most of the changes, they can easily be spotted. ]


1A

[ Beat honestly has no idea how he managed to get himself into Bonnie's good graces but there he is, holding a large tray of mugs filled to the brim and moving around the room, dropping drinks off and going back to more. He looks just as confused as he feels, he walked up to her to ask for information but what had come out of his mouth was do you need help, because she had looked so harried...

And now he's been designated temporary barboy and he's not getting any information at all. In fact, he looks like he might need someone to get him out of the situation he got himself in to, because he looks harried himself now and growing more than a little angry at the situation, especially as someone yells at him that it's not the right ale. He'd ordered a stout and this is CLEARLY a porter.

The way Beats fingers tighten on that tray says he's ten seconds away from smashing it into the mans head. Distract the boy before he rages and starts a brawl? Or join in, hell, he'll be fine with that too. ]


2B

Really? We can't jus', you know, pay wid money? [ He shakes his bag of coins hard as if to indicate the money within. It doesn't seem to phase the man, however. He simply points out no writ, no weapon and here's the location you can go and pick one up, good day. A growl escapes from the teens throat before he turns to leave and almost bowls you down in the process, the growl turning into a yelp of surprise as he side-steps vigorously to keep from doing just that. He might stomp on your foot in the process though, sorry. ]

Shit! Sorry yo, ain't seein' you there! If you're here to pick up somethin', don' bother 'less you got a writ... [ He pauses to breathe and a puzzled look crosses his face. ] Don' even know what that is, but the dude here won't take anythin' else. Know where to get one though, if yer lookin' to do the same?


4C

[ Honestly, by the time they reach the madman at the middle of all this, Beat's Had Enough. He's soaked to the bone from the whirlpool and the rocks embedded in his skin means the chill stays so he's shivering to boot, and now it looks like there's going to be a fight. Which is at least something to look forward to, from his perspective. He ignores the Captain and turns to his companion, looking like a dog begging for a bone. ]

Yo, can we jus' kill him an' get done wid it?? It's cold an' I don' wanna be here any longer an' I'm gettin' hungry. [ At this point he does turn to eye the Captain, something in his eyes saying he's not trying to figure out whether the clothes would look good on him or not. He definitely doesn't seem at all disturbed about a snake tongue, he's seen worse. He might be trying for intimidation or just talking casually when he speaks up again. ]

Think he'll taste good?


wildcard!

[ Honestly if you want Beat for any of the other prompts or just something completely random, hit me up for it! ]

1a

[kliffhanger]

[Beat might just be distracted by someone snapping their fingers at him from a far off table, clearly trying to order.

Which would probably be even more rage inducing except it's clearly another Reclaimer]

[soundsurfing]

[ Oh bless. Forcing a smile that looks more like a grimace, Beat apologizes and says he'll fix that but someone else needs his attention and instantly scoots over to the other Reclaimer, looking like he might just kiss them. ]

Yo thanks fer that, but lettin' you know now, if you want somethin' to drink, you gotta wait.

[kliffhanger]

[Kliff raises his tankard slightly, showing it's still half full of beer... even though he's Beat's age or even younger]

If you can't handle the customers, why even volunteer?

[soundsurfing]

[ BLESS him even harder and Beat wont judge. Not with his history. He grins a little and scratches the back of his neck. ] It was Bonnie. Er, the owner. [ Least he thinks she's the owner. ] Went to ask her for some information an' instead kinda got roped into helpin' out. She jus' looked like she was at the end of it, ya know?

[ He takes a seat opposite the other Reclaimer after a moment of thinking, just to relax briefly. ]

[kliffhanger]

[He sighs in slight frustration. Helping was fine- the Deliverance helped people outside the war often. But this was less charity and more like bumbling]

At least you can listen in on the drunks. Tongues like to wag after a few pints.

[soundsurfing]

[ Getting sighed at is such a familiar sound by now, even if it's not by someone he knows, he can't help the grin and shrug. Though his expression changes to the statement. It's clear he didn't think of this course of action. ]

... That's a good idea, but won' peeps get s'picious 'bout someone hangin' 'round that ain't really s'posed to hang?

[kliffhanger]

You're working here. It's easy to overlook the help.

[soundsurfing]

[ Opens his mouth to argue he's not really working here but closes it again a moment later. ]

Huh... guess I am... Though you think any of 'em are gonna know anythin'? [ He's eying one guy who seems to be trying to drowned himself in his ale. ] Wouldn't they already be talkin' 'bout it?

2B

[ozymoron]

Ah, no worries, no worries! Be careful in the future, but for now, you are forgiven!

[He's a very loud man right here, right now. Humming as he looks through his belongings.]

A writ?! To buy weapons! I do not accept this! Come with me, young man! We're going to speak to this person to buy our weapons and be done with this foolishness!

[soundsurfing]

[ Well, that has to make Beat grin really, the guys boisterousness perking Beat's own. ] Damn right we is!

[ Honestly if they were supposed to be adventurers, how were they supposed to get anything done without weapons?

Truth in told, though, Beat just wanted the ax because it was the weapon he was used to training with back at base. ]

The hell's a writ though?

[stillwinningthehardway]

[Scout herself would have trouble hiding her legs, the horns, tail without bundling up heavily. So she doesn't even try, and ignores the glances as any curious people try to figure out just what she is.

It also means it's hard to step on her feet, even if she hadn't also side-stepped just as hastily.]

Whoah! It's fine.

Writs are legal permits. [Her eyes flick across the sign and storefront.] Weapons, huh? I'd think whatever they have for a city watch.

[soundsurfing]

[ You know what, it's rather refreshing seeing someone who looks like they might have come from where he'd been. Not any changes he recognizes but that doesn't count for much. He might be the only one currently not staring, or giving curious glances. ]

Legal... oh, yo, I getchu, like a license to carry an' all that? Huh, di'nt think they'd have that here too. [ Okay now he's a little more willing to get it, sounds like home. You can't carry a gun without a legal permit after all. ]

Yeah the guy said to head down to the Black Fist's headquarters. Was nice enough to write me directions. [ He shows a small scrap of paper with a makeshift 'map' on it. ]

[stillwinningthehardway]

[Scout's looked him over herself, but more to check that he has a bracer too; she's very familiar with odd changes, and while asymmetry is a little unusual, the rest really isn't.

Scout's ended up about six foot one and not slender, but otherwise she doesn't look like another barbarian at all.]

Honestly I expect it's some kind of racket, but... well.

[She leans in to look at it and gives a half smile.]

That's a charming name. I've got everything I need myself, but I can go with you. What are you looking to buy?

[soundsurfing]

[ He somehow manages not to look like a total idiot by making a comment about it not being noisy - his brain catches on not that type of racket at the last second thankfully. Still, there's a brief weird face he makes before he catches himself, sorry Scout. ]

Heh, better than summa the names back home. [ Weird to think of that place as home but it had been for the last year. Having company perks him up and he grins, the end of his own tail brushing the ground as it flips back and forth. ] Oh, yo, there's this ax in there that's jus' screamin' my name. It's like the type I was practicin' wid, ever since I was told my job uses them best.

[ He glances down at the paper, then up to look around them, trying to orientate himself. ]

[stillwinningthehardway]

[She grins.] You can't say that and not give any examples. You just can't!

They told me that too, but I'm already armed and I'm not parting with it for anything. [Scout sets her jaw as she says that. A lightsaber hilt doesn't look like a weapon at all, not even that much like the hilt of a broken sword, so she's been on the receiving end of some hints and outright suggestions that she arm herself.]

By the way - I'm Tallisibeth, but my friends call me Scout. What name was that ax saying?

[soundsurfing]

[ He grins in response. ] Bloody Bones, was a huge gang that di'nt like my peeps back home.

[ A small nod meets her declaration she's armed and doesn't need a weapon. Technically he is too, he's strong enough to catch and eat his food barehanded, but he figures getting a weapon will help separate himself from his more monster urges.]

I hear ya, ain't really need a weapon myself [ He holds up his rock arm and curls his fist, blunt black claws grinding against his palm ] but I figured I'd get used to it. [ He holds the same hand out, he's right handed and never did get used to using his left hand for things, obviously going for a handshake. ]

Jus' call me Beat, yo. You was told you use an ax too? Barbarian?

[stillwinningthehardway]

Bloody Bones! Well, that might just be a better name. More honest.

[Scout hesitates just noticeably before putting her hand in his. Her fingernails are thick and made of tarnished, gleaming brass scored with many tiny lines, the same metal as on her feet. On her hands they look like claws that have been filed thoroughly down. There's also some scaling on the back of her hand and up her arm, and on the back of her neck, darker and duller than the soft coppery scales at her throat and the inside of her wrist.]

Yeah. Wouldn't my teachers be surprised, but then, everyone's a barbarian to someone else. [Scout wears her heart on her sleeve normally and has had to work at not showing everything she feels always. For a moment her face goes still and set. She glances at Beat's map again.] C'mon, should be... this way.

1A

[pieous]

[Gamzee's decided to fully embrace his title and has somehow, within the span of however long it's been since he was "banished" to this place, joined the band playing in the back of "The Laughing Goblin". His style of music can't exactly be considered "rock n' roll"... in fact, it's pretty far from it. But he sits there anyway, adding his whimsical little lute tunes as a juxtaposition to the heavy sounds of the original band. He is quite possibly the most sullen-looking lute player anyone has ever seen.]

[Nevertheless, his skills aren't that bad. He is a bard, after all.]

[As he plucks away on the strings with his bony, dirty fingers, Beat may or may not find his frustration quelling. The soft tune seems to somehow drown out the noise of the tavern and of the rest of the band, finding its way to those who need to hear it the most. Provided they take the time to listen, of course.]

[soundsurfing]

[ It catches on the edge of Beat's hearing first, just enough to make him relax his grip on the tray and apologize to the man for mistaking his order. It gradually eases out the rest of the noise, and even his growing anger, until it's the only thing he's listening to, even as he goes back to get the man the correct ale.

He's not expecting to lift his eyes to look towards whose playing (a lute, it sounds like a lute, the sound so familiar) and end up feeling like he's been punched in the heart. The person playing it is unmistakable. Not the form he last remembered him in, but he'd remember the original anywhere.

Forgetting his tray, he goes over to the band, ignoring the halflings as they look up to stand in front of Gamzee. ]

'Zee...

[pieous]

[The song seems to have an effect on Gamzee, as well. He becomes happier as he plays, the scowl on his face gradually fading until he looks to be in complete zen. A spaced-out little smile tugs at the corners of his mouth as his eyelids grow heavy, but his fingertips never stop plucking at his instrument or fall out of time.]

[Even when Beat says his name, he doesn't stop playing or even look affected at all. He slowly lifts his attention from the strings to the rocky-looking dude in front of him. This guy must have liked his playing so much that he asked the others for his name. The song continues, but Gamzee speaks over it.]

Yo.

[ :o) ]

[soundsurfing]

[ Of course that son of a bitch acts like absolutely nothing is out of the ordinary. It makes him simultaneously want to hit him and hug him forever. Instead he scrubs his face with a little laugh and moves to sit near him, stretching his legs out in front of him. ]

Bro, I di'nt know you got out too or I'dve looked for you! Geezus shit, you know how worried I've been??

[ That everyone he loved didn't make it, consumed by... whatever it was. He sighs and rests back on his hands, tilting his head to grin at Gamzee, his mood improving by leaps and bounds. ]

Still like you better as a leafy motherfucker, you know.

[pieous]

[It's pretty legit to have a groupie already. Beat's so into it he comes up on the stage next to him. That's fine or whatever, Gamzee doesn't mind sharing the spotlight. Not that he really had it to begin with, as he's being greatly overshadowed by the much louder and harder instruments being played directly next to him.]

Uhhh... hahaha, what...?

[The look on his face is both amused and hopelessly lost. Maybe this dude is totally drunk off of whatever fermented mustard juice he'd been serving the others earlier. It's chill, though. He doesn't mind people getting their party on or talking nonsense to him. He can talk some mad nonsense sometimes, himself.]

Sorry you was worried, bro. A motherfucker just been chillin' out all motherfuckin' here and shit. I mean, after I got all to be sawed in half. And then, like, apparently all, like, unsawed in half.

[soundsurfing]

[ The look makes Beat frown as he studies the guy beside him. Not green and leafy, looking confused, and Beat remembers him talking about the chainsaw but no that's not right, because that happened sometime ago. But if Gamzee's been here since after...

It's hard not to wear his heart on his sleeve but he somehow manages to wrestle his facial expressions into NOT looking like Gamzee just opened him up and gutted him right on stage. Though that'd work with how hard the halflings are trying to make their music.

He still looks like he's hurting, though. ]

Ah... bro, you don' remember me, do you?

[pieous]

[Aw, this guy was from a different timeline, probably. Gamzee shrugs, plucking out a different tune on the lute.]

Somewhere, I motherfuckin' got my rememberings on of you, bro.

[He smiles distantly.]

Just not here.