((Going to open this up for anyone to join. Just assume you saw the flyer and arrived later than the others. If no response by Tuesday {Im off Sun and Mon} then Miro will press on alone.))
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 had his map pointing him towards the site that the old man was directing him to. Dieter, unfortunately seemed to have remembered something he forgot at his home and raced off with a passing comment to continue on without him and something about a stove being left on...
Horses were available to rent from the stables for a faster journey, or Miroslaw could go afoot though it would add days to the round trip.::
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 assumed he would be needing some food for the trip, even without examining the map too thoroughly. He bought some and stuffed it all into a fairly large bag that he slung over his shoulder. Mostly he intended to use his prowess with a bow to get some food, but it was always nice to have something to fall back on. When he finally deemed himself having enough food to head out, he made his way for the gate.
Miroslaw looked at the map, then to the stables, then back to the map again. This continued for a short time. Finally, he shook his head and sighed as if admitting defeat. He moved for the stable while at the same time imagining the dread of traveling on a horse. After a few steps he said out loud, "Nope." immediately pivoting around and heading out the gate on foot. His options were a few extra days or utter wretchedness for a shorter time. He would gladly trek for longer.
Last Edit: Apr 17, 2014 11:04:11 GMT -5 by Miroslaw
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 journey was long and tiring over the next several days. There were times when food was scarce and Miroslaw was glad for the extra provisions he had purchased before he left.
But at the end of his trek, he was rewarded with finding the location marked on the map. From a distance, it appeard to be a simple camp. Tents were set up in a small area. Some for work, and others for sleep. Men and women moved about the site as they did their work. Some areas of the ground were given over to digging. Shallow holes done in a grid pattern could be clearly seen. Some of the workers could be seen here.
The camp was set at the opening to a cave. Old ruined stonework marked its opening. Something left over from an age gone by. A few workers could be seen heading in and out of the entrance.::
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 checked his map and saw that this encampment of some nature was his destination. He observed it for a moment with what the old man had said in mind. He tried to recall the information. A man... north of lorn.. trading... gnomish ruins.
He thought for a moment and then yelled a profanity followed by, "I didn't get a name! I always do this!" He sighed deeply. There couldn't be all that many men who work in digging up gnomish ruins, but it will wait till the morning. He also had to remember that bandits have supposedly raided this place.
For now, he pressed forward to enter the place, potentially find a place to sleep, and scope it out a bit more. The general information he had from simple watching was not going to get him very far.
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.
::Now that Miroslaw thought of it. He could see signs of semi recent conflict. Some tarps over tents seemed newer than others and a few had signs of repair from long cuts.
Entering the encampment area, the works hesitate as they turn to watch you walk by. Wary of strangers, particularly armed ones, but calmed for the moment by you being afoot and alone.
Walking further into the camp, an older man exits the cave ahead and locks eyes with you. With a flick of his head he motions you towards the tent he is heading for. In his hands is a box filled with stone and a few small glints of metal.
He enters the tent ahead of you. Should you follow, you see him set the box down on a table littered with notes and other small trinkets. Wiping his hands on his shirt he turns to welcome you with a smile and a handshake.::
"Welcome. Welcome! Are you the help Merille sent?"
(Looks like its going to be a good one. Bandits are always good.)
Miroslaw would indeed follow. Perhaps it would be the old man he was looking for. Perhaps he would know the old man he was looking for. Either way, he had little to go on as it stood.
He returned the greeting with an equal smile and handshake, "Aye, though I am afraid I am lacking on proper details..."
It was true, he knew little more than general information. It also seemed unlikely that a single man be enough to drive an entire group of bandits away from this small camp, even with the skills Miroslaw possessed. This would probably take some form of finesse and planning rather than the fairly commonly used brute force.
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.
((Could write you in still if you want, Ramir. Traveling by horse you could already be here ahead of Miroslaw the Footsore...))
::The man chuckled as he turned to start taking items out of the box he had been carrying and looking them over before placing them on the table before him.::
"Name's Fenster, by the way, and yeah Ol' Merille can be like that. Makes for far more letters sent back and forth between us, but the business is good.
The issue is this. Me and my team are in the 'Historical Research and Restoration' business. We study old ruins and occasionally sell some of the trinkets we find. Unfortunately, not everyone is very happy with people digging around in their past. The other week a small group of bandits rushed the camp and stole many of the items we had found. Including what Mr. Merille had wanted to buy.
Hence the need for you, Mr....?"
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.
(Feel free. I like an adventure with more than one person. hehe.
Miroslaw casually glanced in the box to see what was inside. He gave a light chuckle at the letter jest. "Miroslaw. Do you know where the bandits went with the items?" He wondered why he said everyone wouldn't be happy. If it were bandits, they were just looking to make some money. He would keep the odd line in his mind.
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 box was filled with bits of broken stone that had old etchings on parts of it. Like it had one been a whole pieces, shattered over time. There were also bits of broken pottery and smaller odd plates of metal and a few odd looking bits that looked like small metal wheels with teeth around the outer edge.::
"Aye. I have my thoughts. The ruins here are part of what was once a great Gnomish city. As I'm sure you know, they fell on harsh times centuries ago. Their great civilization falling to illness and war. But the Gnome society has not vanished, only changed.
I believe it is the remnants of that society that have taken what we found here."
::His head perks up, as if he just remembered something.::
"How careless of me. I was so excited to start examining these items that I forgot I should introduce you to the other man Merille sent."
::He walks to the opening of the tent and calls a worker over. Whispering something to him, the worker races off.::
((There's your intro moment, Ramir...))
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.
Ramir made his way over when told he'd be working with an accomplice. That didn't bother him, so long as the other mercenary was capable, he was hear to earn a paycheck and if need be, to put in to practice some of what he'd been working on.
He approached casually and made no show of himself, he had no care for wild gestures or tough guy acts. Those were a dime a dozen. No, Ramir was a pretty plain person and whilst his thoughts were often very cynical, he was likable enough in most situations.
He strolled up to Ramir with a nod and extended his hand, standing side on. He rarely stood with his shoulders square to anyone, for all the right reasons.
"So we're to be working together. I hope you don't mind halving the pay. Name's Vandal."
He was originally expecting a Dwarf partner. Seeing as that did not work out, perhaps another stranger will make due. At the very least, the job will be a bit easier. Truth be, he didn't know how much the pay was, so splitting it didn't seems so horrible at this point.
Now, he just needed to get some straightforward information, so he could figure out where to go from here. Things seemed a bit strange. He wondered, were they thieves bandits or something else?
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.
::Fenster clapped his hands together as he smiled at both men.::
"Excellent! So when will you be getting started?
The attack came from the east, so we are assuming that that is were the savages have made their camp. If that helps you two at all.
We really need those items back as they are important to our studies."
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.