Scalebound

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Abrahms

Abrahms

One Thousand Club
StogrovePost.png(Map of Stogrove)​
The soft drizzle of rain has soaked you all from the past few days you've spent traveling. Mostly just an irritation at this point, the memory of dry clothing and scales feels ancient by now. However finally, after trudging across the Faint Valley, making your way over the various hills and through clumps of trees that dot the landscape, you all catch sight of the beacons along the wall of Stogrove, the small town that sent a summons for your group.

The sun is low in the sky, the dark clouds above making it seem almost as if it's night instead of dusk by the time you all make it to the outer walls arriving at the central-northern gate, catching curious glances as your troupe passes through. Some of the adults openly stare, others scamper inside, a few children desire to investigate but are pulled back by concerned parents. The guards at the gate at first raise their weapons, unused to seeing what makes up your unusual party, however when one of you shows the summons they regain their composure for the moment. The rain drips down the helmets of the guards, the glow of various torches reflected on the metal.

"Ah, I see," the guard begins, looking over the group. "Now I get a good look at'cha, I think I've heard of you lot." He coughs, obviously not entirely comfortable with the party watching him. "Right well, unfortunately, Commander Monsab is more than likely already home by now, and," the guard leans in, in a conspiratorial manner, "he ain't exactly fond of working past his typical hours."

The other guard gives a knowing nod, "Nope, not at all. Strictly dawn to dusk that one."

Returning to his position, the original guard continues, "I suggest you find a place to rest for the night, er ... assuming you do rest at night ... Then you can speak to the Commander in the morning." He gives a small salute, seemingly more out of habit than any sort of actual respect. "Maybe you lot can figure it out, sure would put a lot of minds at ease, if you don't mind me sayin'."

Allowed through the gates, Stogrove lays before you, streets slick and shiny from the damp. A few covered lamps can be seen, helping to brighten the night for those that don't have good vision at night, and it looks like the party has entered into a merchant district -- the stores closed for the night, and what little foot traffic can be seen appear to be those headed home after a long day of work.
 
If the relentless weather bothers Ixen at all, she takes care not to show it as the rain runs off her scales in a continuous stream. Throughout the encounter at the gate she keeps silent, lingering on the fringes of the group and letting the more socially apt members deal with the guards. Even with time to chew over everything that they say, it's still a challenge to figure out whether their words are sarcastic or sincere. They do seem unusually blunt for humans, but she can't tell if that would normally be considered rude or not. At least, she reasons optimistically, their tenure in Sttogrove ought to give her ample opportunities to learn.

Once through the gate she shakes herself restlessly, casting showers of droplets off her body. "The rain brings cold," she says, as if her companions hadn't realised it. Turning her back on the straggling passers-by, she lights a flame in her clawed fingers and holds it close to her chest. For a lizardfolk out in the cold, any source of heat is welcome. "This one suggests taking shelter before the provisions are spoiled." While Goodberries ought to do in a pinch, it would be a shame to lose the dried meat she's packed.
 
Thisk tilts his head one way and then the other, considering the humans' words. Figuring out what a human meant was a lot like tracking prey, it's not right in front of you, but if you pay attention there are signs to follow. "This one thinks we are meant to visit the commander tonight, while darkness hides us."
 
Nassa turns to Thisk, then strikes the others with yellow eyes. Her wet platinum hair hangs drenched from her head and she uses it as a shield against the eyeing humans. "Indeed, though he warns us away, oft is the answer in where we should not go." Her hand reaches to clench the amulet hanging from her neck. "If nothing else, Noctus will guide us."
 
In the darkness it is extremely hard to even see Montsombre, his black scales only occasionally glinting in the light. As he walks through the gate, he looks around at the buildings before him. He recognizes many of the buildings to be shops and such, with various signs to attract attention, although in the dark they could barely be seen. He always hated human shops, the merchants always tried to twist their words to confuse their customer into buying their wares, and then over paying for them. His tongue flickered in disgust, and he thoroughly agreed with Thisk; hopefully they could solve this problem and be well away from the city as fast as possible. “Aye, I say we head right to the commander. It was he who summoned us, and told us to come with great haste, so we should waste no more time.” Montsombre said all of this with a face hard with determination, in a voice that was deeper and more gravelly than was common among Dragonborn. Walking back to the gate, he asks one of the guards, “Where might we find this commander? I’m sure he won’t mind seeing us at this hour.”
 
The guards had been making idle chatter when they hear Montsombre approach again, and grow silent as they try to stand their ground.

"Uh ..." the same guard who spoke before gives the other a sidelong glance in a silent plea for help as the large Dragonborn stands in front of him.

"Well, I don't think we actually know where he lives?" the opposite guard stammers a bit, adjusting his grip on his poleaxe. "I mean ... if you just want some information, I'm pretty sure the Sergeant might be willing to talk with you tonight still?"

The first guard nods slowly, "Yeah ... We weren't kidding that the Commander only wants to work within his hours, but she's generally there constantly. She'd be the one to ask if you really want to try and meet with the Commander tonight...Head towards the center of town -- the barracks is pretty hard to miss."
 
Bowing his head slightly, he says "Thanksssssss" and he turns back to his companions. Walking a few steps, he allowed a large grin to cover his face, thinking to himself, That will give them something to tell their mates. Montsombre chuckled to himself as he imagines the guards telling everyone "No, they do hiss! I've heard it myself!" The smile slowly slides off his face as he thinks on how they were acting, regretting his joke. Stupid fleshy humans. So quick to judge and fear something that they don't understand. I should not feed into their stereotypes.

As he reaches his group again, he begins to lead them towards the center of town. "The guards said we can speak with the Sergeant first, this way." Then he pauses, "I mean...unless anyone has anything else they'd rather do?"
 
Ixen watches Montsombre as he talks with the guards, gently rocking back on her heels now and then to clear water out of her frills. The difference between his social acumen and her own has always felt striking. Of course dragonborn and lizardfolk can't be expected to think in the same way, but sometimes she finds herself wondering whether Montsombre might have more in common with the soft-skins than with the rest of the troupe.

As he returns, she glances off in the direction that he indicates. So, one of the hundred brick and timber buildings down that lane must belong to the sergeant. She pauses to consider her options. "The rain brings cold," she repeats in a carefully neutral tone of voice, but steps up to Montsombre's side all the same.
 
Kadaru stood silently at the back of the group, having learned in their travels to let the Dragonkind do the speaking. Their scales may have united them, but he had seen past this to their true nature. Their thinking was not like the Lizardfolk, no the "dragons" were like the soft ones with their love of cities and taverns... armies and nations... filth and disease. Still, he felt a strange kinship to these and they had proven their strength in battle, so he and his would continue to follow.

The cleric simply nods and walks in the direction Montsombre indicated. "Kadaru hates the soft cities." he says with disdain as his tongue flicks out briefly "This one tastes the weakness in the air, fat and soft."
 
Alenas laughs at Montsombre's hiss, and the reaction from the guards. As the group starts walking towards the center of town, Alenas nods and gives his most charming dragonborn-smile to children and onlookers. He looks around at the strange gathering of scaled companions, and smiles thinking of the coincidences that led them together. Even though his decision to join the strange group was purely out of boredom, he has grown to deeply respect all of them.

"Nice hiss." He smiles at Montsombre as they walk. "Should give them something to talk about for a couple of days."
 
The group works its way down the narrow streets, at times blocked by small crowds that spill out from small taverns here and there. Some of the more tipsy patrons try to stand their ground as the group attempts to pass, brazened by their liquid courage, however their slightly more sober friends pull them back inside, casting glances backwards towards the party.

Both Ixen and Kadaru catch muttered comments, bits and pieces of conversation: "How'd those get in...? Aren't Dragonborn 'spose to be far to the North...? We got enough problems..." As the party continues the words fade and the rain turns from a constant drizzle to a more steady downpour. Those who before were taking a slow walk towards their destinations pick up speed or dart between the awnings on buildings.

Eventually you all arrive near the main square, the central plaza of Stogrove. Scanning the wide open area, the only forms visible at this point appear to be various guards patrolling, mostly seeming to ignore your presence, be it lack of interest, or merely can't see very well in the dark rain.

In the center of the square stands a tall pillar, a small garden appears to surround it, the mix of flowers moving and twitching from the raindrops as it hits the petals. Looking over the buildings, more walls can be seen in the distance and a few towers that seem to belong to a structure.

However, bringing your attention back to the immediate area, the comments of the guard comes back to Montesombre -- the barracks would be hard to miss. Looking around, most of the buildings seem to be some sort of public services or manors, yet there's one, larger than all the rest you've all passed so far.

Where most of the buildings had been a mix of wood or stone, this one is fully stone with a tile roof that rests on a second level. The faint flicker of candlelight can be seen in the windows, with two more guards huddled under the roof near the door, looking cold, miserable, and bored out of their minds.
 
Making a conscious effort to ignore being ogled at, Montsombre walked tall as he led the group towards the barracks. Seeing the two guards underneath the door's covering, he looked around at his companions, and seeing as none of them stepped forward, Monty moved up and greeted the guards. "Greetings. We request a meeting with the Sergeant. The commander had sent for our aid, but is apparently otherwise occupied and cannot see us, so we were sent here. May we enter and get out of this rain?" Montsombre was not one for elegant speech, but he knew that some of his companions had trouble speaking the common tongue fluently, so he knew it was best to take charge.
 
One of the guards slowly turns to look before jumping slightly once he sees what's speaking. "Oh! Er ..." Taking a deep breath, he attempts to continue in a slightly more controlled manner. Peering through the small bit of face visible through the armor, this one seems to be a younger human male. "Right -- the Commander is currently off duty, the Sergeant -- she's still here. Yep. Basically always here it seems ..." he trails off as he glances towards the other guard who seems to maybe be practicing the art of sleeping while standing upright.

"Go in, then upstairs. Her office is basically right in front of where the stairs drop you off -- most ... uh visitors, tend to speak with her first anyways." He peers around at the group, giving a nervous smile, "There ... might be some ... coffee or hot cocoa...? If that's something you enjoy?"
 
«Yes, please bring something warm to drink up to the sergeants office.» Alenas smiles to guard and starts walking up the stairs, not waiting for any answer from the guard.
 
As Alenas passes the guard and enters, he raises a hand, trying to catch Alenas before he disappears inside, "Oh, I mean there's some set up ... and they're gone."

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Entering the barracks, the warmth is comforting compared to the cold damp of outside. Glancing around, there seem to be about five or six other guards of varying heights and builds wandering around inside on the first level. Near the stairs there's a small desk that blocks the steps. Peering over the desk, there looks to be the top of a head barely visible, while a delicate nameplate rests along the top of the desk that reads HILIA WYARDYE in an ornate font.

This floor of the barracks seems to be where most of the regular guards spend their time -- through a doorway you can glance and see what looks like a simple mess hall, while another doorway looks as though it leads to lockers along the wall, each with its own labeling.

Some of the guards notice the entry and turn to look. A few stare openly for a few moments, others merely glance up from the sound and go back to their respective tasks. As you step towards the stairs, a small voice speaks up: "Hello! Mm ~ If I'm not mistaken, you're the group the Commander sent for yes?"

Stepping up onto the desk itself, a female Gnome stands before you, with what looks to be a genuine smile on her face. Her hair is cut short, a dark brown, while her green eyes look over each member in turn. She taps the desk lightly as she continues, "Unfortunately he's not here at the moment -- but I'm glad you're so eager to get to work! You know you don't need to start tonight, I'm sure you're tired ~ why not start in the morning?" Her chatter continues for a little while, speaking faster than most of the others you've encountered in town so far.
 
Ixen begins to restlessly flick her tail as the gnome - Hilia Wyardye, she expertly deduces - keeps talking at a pace too fast to follow. Against her better instincts she's found herself standing towards the front of the group, meaning that the others must expect her to contribute to the conversation at some point. Carry it on, maybe. But they must be feeling tired and dispirited after so long on the road, so it wouldn't be wise to keep them awake for much longer. That would be negligent. Ixen hurriedly considers the most helpful course of action while the gnome chatters on.

Is she looking at her? She's looking right at her, isn't she?

"The tribe is grateful," Ixen cuts in, "and will take shelter until the dawn, as directed." Conscious of the sudden lull in conversation, her eyes flick from Hilia to her own companions, finally latching onto Alenas.

"The musician was promised hot cocoa," she adds quietly.
 
Hilia turns to look at Ixen as she speaks -- interestingly enough she doesn't seem to flinch while meeting your gaze like the others you've seen in town so far. "Sure! If you're looking for a decent place, I'd suggest a place just around the corner: The Proud Canary. Front half's a bar, the back section has the rooms. Probably see a few guards there, it's pretty popular for those finishing their shift." She smiles before remembering you all likely don't know what's considered just around the corner. "The sign outside is a large image of a bright yellow canary." She frowns for a moment before her smile comes back, "I'm right in thinking you can see color like the rest of us, yes?"

She gestures towards the mess hall, "If you'd like hot cocoa, it's through there ~ It may be a little cold by now, but it's easy enough to heat back up." Leaning on the counter-top she looks over the group, "Unfortunately I can't really leave the desk 'till my shift is over ~ Anything else I can answer or help with?"
 
Thisk watches the gnomish sergeant with some interest. She spoke faster than most, which prompted him to listen better. When she is finished, he looks to Ixen. "The bar will have more warmth, and more food. Delaying here is not needed."
 
«Thank you very much sergeant. I hope we will see you again in the morning. For now some sleep and a warm bed sounds like the best plan.»

Alenas is tired to the bone, and a warm meal and some ale is tempting. He gives a short bow to the gnome, and starts walking towards the inn, hoping there is familiar music and food to be had.

«Anyone hungry?» He looks around at the soaked group around him
 
As Hilia stepped up onto the desk, Montsombre smiled a little to himself. He rather liked gnomes, they tended to be much more clever and witty than humans, not to mention their small stature was amusing. This particular gnome seemed to be very kind, caring about the party's well being before the completion of the task they were summoned for. But Montsombre still felt the urge to get the task started, even as his muscles ached with exhaustion from the long trip. "I agree, we should indeed get some food and sleep before beginning the task at hand. But perhaps you might be able to tell us a bit about why we are being hired, so we might think of a solution as we rest?"
 
Hilia blinks for a moment as Alenas calls her "Sergeant" before turning to Montsombre as he speaks, her smile still on display.

"I feel I shouldn't lead you lot on -- I'm not the sergeant! I'm flattered you think I hold such rank though." She glances away for a moment, "No ... not a rank for a gnome." She smiles again, leaning forward on the upper counter of the desk, "But if it's just some information you're looking for, I can share. Not too sure what all Monsab wrote in his request, but there's a fair amount you'll probably overhear from any guards in the tavern anyways, so might as well get the official version, right?" She leans on her arm as she continues, "Guards are awful gossips -- take it from me, I'm usually stuck listening to them! Anyway ~ Depending on which gate you came in, you could have passed what you're supposed to investigate. It sticks out a bit -- a gated plot of land with a big hole in the ground!" She leans in, almost as if sharing a joke, "There actually used to be a manor there ~ if you can believe it. A local artist lived there, but she seems to have gone missing when the manor did."

Leaning back, she looks over the group again, "I suppose Monsab is hoping with your ... different perspective, let's say, you'll manage better than we have!" She frowns, "At least you lot have already done more than the resident mages -- they claim they're too busy!" Sighing, "You'd think mages would jump all over something like this ~ some new magical mystery to be documented and studied, but alas!"

Once more she stands up straight, one hand on the desk, "Hopefully that gives you all something to think on and consider for the 'morrow. Commander Monsab still has kept a few details to just him and the Sergeant proper, and unfortunately the Sergeant asked not to be disturbed tonight." Hilia leans forward again, conspiratorially, "I think she's busy with paperwork -- definitely not her strong suit!"

Slowly she starts to crawl down off the top of the desk, only the top of her head visible again, "Enjoy the rest of the night! Hopefully the rain'll be gone in the morning for the start of your task ~"
 
«Well thank you very much, that is good information you have shared with us.»

Alenas gives another short bow and a smile, and turns to the group.

«Well, I for one am hungry, thirsty and sick of the downpour. To the inn?»
 
"Thank you Miss Wyardye, we appreciate the information and will hopefully come up with a solution once we've gotten full bellies and rested minds. And yes -- Our bellies and minds work just the same as yours." With that, he turned to Alenas and nodded, "Aye, to the inn." And he led the party out the door, making their way to the inn.
 
Kadaru quickened his pace to walk next to Montsombre, "This one tires of the soft ones delays. Meat, rest, and heat is good, but why must we wait?" The lizardfolk looks back briefly at the townsquare as turn the corner on their way to the tavern, his tongue flicking out to taste the night air. Slowly he unsheaths a third of his scimitar and then returns it to its place. "My blade thirsts; the lizard tribe is for action." he adds.
 
With some reluctance, Ixen leaves the barracks and the promised drinks and accompanies the rest of the group to The Proud Canary. Along the way, she falls into step with Montsombre and Kadaru, whose words she just manages to catch. "The lizard tribe is for survival," she cuts in with the same impassive tone as earlier. "Frequent conflict brings loss. This one does not resent the delay."

The warrior is an interesting one. The concept of seeking out battle for its own sake was a concept that Ixen had once imagined was limited to the soft-skins, but Kadaru has shown her otherwise. She still can't comprehend his mindset, but she can at least try to rein it in before it has a chance to endanger the rest of the group.
 
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