::Dawn comes as an old stooped man with thin wisps of white hair standing out in defiance from his head came walking down the street towards the notice board errected to the side of the square formed by intersecting streets.
Soot covers his clothes and the smell of smoke follows his every step as he approaches the billboard.
Upon reaching his destination, the man places a hand at the small of his back and bends backwards as a series of pops can be heard coming from his spine. Now standing a bit straighter, he pulls a rolled piece of parchment from under a stained leather apron and begins to afix it to the Billboard.
Nodding in satisfaction after his work was done, he turns to walk back the way he came, leaving the paper behind.
It read...::
Howdy
Hel
Attention, adve great adventurerers!
Your acisascist help is needed in aqwi finding matereals for my work!
Should y When you return, you will be paid handsumly.
See MERILLE'S MERCHANTILE!!
Last Edit: May 3, 2014 12:21:02 GMT -5 by Alexander
My first thought was, he lied in every word, That hoary cripple, with malicious eye Askance to watch the workings of his lie On mine, and mouth scarce able to afford Suppression of the glee, that pursed and scored Its edge, at one more victim gained thereby.
Miroslaw stopped by the notice board to look for any new postings that may have been made. As of late, there was not much that caught his interest. Upon stepping up to the board, he noticed a new posting he had not seen the last time. He glanced over it, chuckling at the errors, especially the “should y”. He had often forgot how writing could be considered a luxury. He was fortunate to have learned at an early age.
He was able to understand the notice, regardless of the errors. He wondered why the individual who posted it would not have made a copy without mistakes. Judging by the the phrase “should you return” as was originally intended, a bit of danger loomed over this notice. He shrugged at the thought. He needed some more gold as of late, and desired another adventure. It had been awhile since the last. Looking to the last sentence he said out loud, “Merille's Merchantile, huh?” He tried to think of the place, but could not recall it. He decided it was probably at the market somewhere and decided to head off to look around for it.
Death is no more than turning us over from time to eternity. Whether that eternity is damnation or salvation is determined in the time we have.
Dieter walked through town after a late night at the tavern, trying to get acquainted with the layout of the town and hopelessly looking for the market place. His head still ached a bit, though this was diminishing. Confound these Human cities! I can never find my way around them. So bright and noisy, yet no one's around when I need to ask fer directions.And what's this?
Dieter had wandered across a notice board that sat mostly empty, but one note stood out on the board, rife with misspellings.
This looks like it was written by an ork, Dieter thought as he read the note. Blast, even if this were written well, the I grow weary of the Common Tongue... Were that there were any Dwarves around here I could converse with in a proper tongue... In any case, I should head to the Merille's Mercantile. It's probably in the market, and what's the good of finding the blasted market if I've no gold to spend anyways?
And with that he set off to look for the Mercantile.
::By some strange twist of fate, as if an unseen hand were moving pieces about on a board, the human and the dwarf find themselves approaching Merille's Merchantile at the same time.
It was indeed found near the Marketplace. First impressions from the outside would make it seem that the shop was a glorified scrapyard with a forge area barely seen of the back. Entering the building sets of a series of bells and chimes and the appearance inside further cements the idea of what was seen outside. Scraps of metal in various sizes and shapes litter the shelves and open areas. There is a counter for sales to be done, and no customers present.
Over the sound of your entry you hear the sounds of air moving through a bellows followed by popping, a loud woosh and the feel of heat blasting out from a back room with the accompanying flare of flame followed by the grinding of metal on metal.::
"BLASSHT YOU, INFERNAL MASSHINCE!!"
::Smoke begins to billow out from the open back area around a corner. Eventually a stooped figure emerges. A hunched old man with flyaway wispy hair and wearing a recently torn and mangled leather apron. He is covered in soot. His eyes brightne when he sees not one, but two people in his shop and he wipes dirty hands on a dirty cloth before approahing you both and offering a hand to shake in greeting.::
"WELCOME! WELCOME TO MERILLE'SSH MERCANTILE!! COME IN! COME IN! ISSH THERE SSHOMETHING I CAN HELP YOU FIND!"
My first thought was, he lied in every word, That hoary cripple, with malicious eye Askance to watch the workings of his lie On mine, and mouth scarce able to afford Suppression of the glee, that pursed and scored Its edge, at one more victim gained thereby.
Dieter was quick to recognize Miroslaw as they approached the entry to the Mercantile. If it ain't me drinking buddy- I still owe ye fer the tab next time. I assume yer after the same job I am lad- well, no time to waste.
As Dieter entered the shop and heard all the commotion, he didn't know what to think. Dwarves are used to a healthy respect for machinery, and a clean and neat workspace, which this shop was not.Shaking hands with someone covered in ash and soot, however, was nothing new to him.
So, you must be Merille eh? What can we do fer ye?
A smile quickly came to Miroslaw as he saw the familiar Dwarf. Looks like it was bound to be an interesting trip after all. He did not say anything, rather simple nods and chuckles were given as they went to enter the strange establishment. Miroslaw began wondering what kind of payment this place could have to offer, but shrugged it off. He disliked jumping to conclusions, but sometimes they could not be helped.
As the dirty elderly man approached and extended his hand, Miroslaw hesitantly shook it. "Aye, we are here about the poster."
Death is no more than turning us over from time to eternity. Whether that eternity is damnation or salvation is determined in the time we have.
::The old man squinted as he looked at the dwarf as a look of disappointment came over him.::
"MARELLA'SSH? YOU GOT THE WRONG SSHHOP, SSHON! SSHHE'SSH TWO DOORSSH DOWN!"
::He bowed his head and started to turn away when Miroslaw spoke up. He turned back with a gleam in his eye.::
"THE POSSHTER? OH, AYE!! THE POSSHTER! COME IN! COME IN!"
::He waved them further into the shop, in the direction of the counter, which he went to stand behind.::
"WASSHN'T EXPECTING SSHUCH A QUICK TURNOUT! SSHO, BRING ME BACK WHAT I NEED, AND I'LL SSHEE YOU GET PAID! GOOD LUCK!"
::With a nod to each of you in turn, the old man then turned and started to head towards the back of the shop.::
My first thought was, he lied in every word, That hoary cripple, with malicious eye Askance to watch the workings of his lie On mine, and mouth scarce able to afford Suppression of the glee, that pursed and scored Its edge, at one more victim gained thereby.
Dieter cocked his eyebrow as he observed the kookiness of the old man before him. He turned his gaze over to Miroslaw in a this-man-is-crazy sort of way, before following the old coot to his counter. After the old man had turned them away, Dieter smiled bemusedly.
Oi, old man. Ye haven't told us what yer after yet.All the poster said was 'finding materials for yer work.' What kind of materials are ye after? And what are ye payin' fer 'em?
Miroslaw shrugged lightly in response to Dieter's look, and made his way to the counter following slightly behind the dwarf. With no added information, the man intended to send them off. Miroslaw was not sure if the old man realized he gave no information, or if it was suppose to be obvious what he needed. With a quick glance around, all he could come up with was metal scraps. He was relieved when Dieter spoke up to clarify. Miroslaw stayed silent and waited.
Death is no more than turning us over from time to eternity. Whether that eternity is damnation or salvation is determined in the time we have.
::The old man turned back to face Dieter and Miroslaw with a look that was at first confused. It was quickly replaced as understanding came.::
"YESSH! YESSH! THAT WOULD BE HELPFUL, WOULDN'T IT!
IT'SSH SSHIMPLE REALLY! I TRADE ALOT WITH A MAN NORTH OF LORN! WORKSSH IN DIGGING UP OLD RUINSSH, HE DOESSH! GNOMISSH RUINSSH!
GOT A MESSHSSHAGE FROM HIM SSHAYING BANDITSSH HAVE RAIDED HISSH CAMP, AND WANTED TO KNOW IF I COULD SSHEND HIM SSHOME HELP IN DRIVING THEM OFF!
ASSH FOR PAY! WELL THAT DEPENDSSH ON HOW SSHUCCESSHSSHFUL YOU ARE!"
My first thought was, he lied in every word, That hoary cripple, with malicious eye Askance to watch the workings of his lie On mine, and mouth scarce able to afford Suppression of the glee, that pursed and scored Its edge, at one more victim gained thereby.
The old man was a bit difficult to understand, but Miroslaw was able to get it all. Miroslaw spoke up after the man finished speaking, "North of Lorn, huh? Do you have a map by chance? My sense of direction has always been rather... inept." He truly did not know entirely where he was talking about. A map would be beneficial. He assumed Dieter would not know either, knowing he was new in town.
::The old man scratches his head for a moment then disappears behind the counter. The clang and crashing of metal against metal can be heard as he searches amoung the stuff on the shelves before popping back up with a rolled parchment. He hands it over to Miroslaw.::
"HERE YOU GO SSHON! THISSH ISSH FROM WHEN I FIRSSHT SSHTARTED WORKING WITH THE CHAP! HAD TO FIND MY THERE MYSSHELF! HA!!
IT SSHOULD SSHEE YOU WHERE YOU NEED TO GO!"
My first thought was, he lied in every word, That hoary cripple, with malicious eye Askance to watch the workings of his lie On mine, and mouth scarce able to afford Suppression of the glee, that pursed and scored Its edge, at one more victim gained thereby.
Miroslaw nodded to the old man saying, "Ah, very good then. I think we can take it from here. We will return when the job is finished." He took the map with little more than a glance and with a small smile to the merchant he turned to exit the establishment and prepare to set out to slay some bandits.
He stopped outside the place to make quick plans with the dwarf. "So, Meet you at the north gate in say... an hour. Or we can get started right away."
Death is no more than turning us over from time to eternity. Whether that eternity is damnation or salvation is determined in the time we have.