Chapter 1.1 The Trader's District.   Posted by Guildmaster.Group: 0
Emeric
 player, 9 posts
Tue 9 Sep 2008
at 17:52
Re: 1.1 The Trader's District
Guildmaster:
"Why, you've come to the right place then, young Peleric," the man smiled broadly as he rose from his machine. "Getting ready for the Duke's Ball are we not? Although I must say, you are quite the odd one. Wanting to look like a pauper? That is almost unheard off!"


"I'm told its all the fashion in the market.  Make your finest clothes look warn and ragged.  I thought to take it a step further is all."

Guildmaster:
Taking Emeric by the arm, the man escorted him to row of display cases, "We have masks of all sorts! How about a Prince Mathias or the Duke himself? Or you want to go as an animal? A dragon? Made from REAL dragon scales I might add."

When Emeric politely declined once more and insisted upon a mask, or perhaps even a maker of a deathmask the man pursed his lips and said curtly, "Well if you want to be ugly, so be it. As long as you have the coin for it." Obviously, the man was always keen to show off his talent in mask making and obviously, making a ugly mask was not quite up his alley. It was then, that someone else voice interrupted.

An old crone entered from the backroom which quelled the man to silence, "Mother..." He greeted. The old lady smiled at Emeric and said, "Come here boy... You were looking for a deathmask? A...real one?"


Looking the old lady up and down, assessing her as he would any threat, he considered that he had after all asked such a question, and therefore perhaps she could help him.  "Perhaps, if the mask is not made to measure, so to speak.  Would you say it would make a good mask for the ball?  A mask to get me noticed?"  Emeric considered a little further and added, "Money is available for the right mask."  He then considered what he might be letting himself in for.
Yorgorov Varakzy
 player, 10 posts
 Dark eyed poet
Tue 9 Sep 2008
at 20:14
Re: 1.1 The Trader's District
Admiring the craftsmanship of the mask Yorgorov was struck by it's how unique it was, which in himself he noticed for it's tautological nature. For the mask was at once daring yet unassuming, timid but threatening, and wild but restrained. It was indeed extremely unique, though to give a measure of it's uniqueness was absurd - it was either unique or not.

A small cough brought Yorgorov out of the spirals of his mind and he turned to see a small woman standing before him, she seemed as though, dust covered as she was, she belonged on the shelves amongst the assorted treasures of the place.

May I help you young man?

Yes I rather hope you will, grandmother. I'd like to take this with me if I may but there is no price that I can see.

The old woman took the mask in her sepia hands and turned it over a few times. Yorgorov fancied that he heard he mutter something but he could not make out the worlds distinctly.

...ado...ight...

Yes well I'm sure we can find out for you sir, a fine piece this is. Curious though isn't it?


She led Yorgorov to a desk beside the door by which Yorgorov had first entered and pulled a mighty ledger from beneath. Truly it seemed to Yorgorov that the book, which was almost half as large as the shop keeper herself, would topple her over. She opened the dusty tome and ran her finger down one page until she found the entry for the mask.

Yorgorov paid the old woman and thanked her as she wrapped the mask in a fold of gray cloth. He put it in the bag that hung at his side, his eyebrow raised slightly as he noticed the contents, or lack thereof. As he made for the door back to the traders' district Yorgorov heard the frail voice behind him say

A fine piece you have there sir, but curious.

Yorgorov turned a final time as he left the shop but did not see the shop keeper. He made a mental note to return but for now had other things on his mind.

Well that's interesting, as abruptly as it appeared it seems the letter has taken it's leave. Though I suspect having taken the feather with it it may have not been purely by chance that I find myself bereft of them both. How delicious, it appears I may see my pretty young flower again soon after all.

Back in the traders' district Yorgorov busied himself with finding a costume for the Duke's ball. He settled, perhaps inspired by recent events, for a dusty looking gray robe of folding and multi-layered fabric. It was heavy looking but not to constricting and as one might expect, had plenty of pockets hidden within.

Picking up a few other essentials, a few new note books and pencils, Yorgorov decided to call it a day and retire home. No doubt to find his bed empty.
Lucinda Blancoeur
 player, 9 posts
 Sorceress in Distress
Tue 9 Sep 2008
at 21:40
A Chance Encounter
Rhollin Grail:
A Grail knight was keenly aware of his presence at all times. A slight shift of the muscular frame, a particular cut of cloth, or a careful turning of one's countenance could send a clear message. So even as Rhollin stood in the tent simply pondering his next move, he naturally cut a dashing figure. Only when the lady spoke to him was he aware of her presence as well, and turned his bright eyes downward.

Lucinda would see she made an impression on the knight-errant, for he cast his eyes on her for longer than was necessary for a passing stranger. He lifted his hands and undid the straps of his great battle gloves, heavy things of leather and layered steel meant to protect and reinforce Rhollin's primary weapons - his hands. With the gauntlets tucked into his belt like a sword, he dropped to one knee, bringing himself near level with her, and extended a bare hand palm-upward to take hers.

"That welcome is my first and dearest, lady of Aberhaven. I mean to take it sincerely and extend my own welcome on behalf of my family, my kingdom, and my people." His words were well-chosen but fairly standard as courtly Leonyr greetings went. The extra affection came from his grip on her hand, which, like his gaze, was more intimate than would be expected.

“You are the substance of dreams and legends, milord,” Lucie breathed softly, her gaze transfixed by the warmth of his glance. She curtsied prettily, honoring the knight and acknowledging his squire, and then gently she took back her hand.

What to say? She was at a loss. “You are a Savann, milord, and a Knight of the Grail?” she asked what was obvious, wanting the moment to linger. “I am Lucinda Blancoeur, and truly you are welcome to our fair city.” She smiled at him invitingly.

This message was last edited by the player at 21:50, Tue 09 Sept 2008.

Lily
 player, 6 posts
 Betrayed
Tue 9 Sep 2008
at 22:48
Re: A Lingering Glance . . .
“If you please,” Lily called to Devlin, swallowing the resentment that she felt at having been offered short shrift.  The morning was fast passing and Boric would double her misery for every tankard of ale that he was made to serve up in her absence.

quote:
”Find something that appeals to you?” he inquired with a hint of mischief in his tone, as he swept off his hat. He was curious as to whether her demeanor would be consistent with the boldness that he thought that he had detected in her glance.


For a moment Lily was silent, refusing him the attention he sought when she did not turn to face him. Her fingers were curled about the silk, clasped as though the delicate fabric might be taken from her if she did not hold tight.

The timbre of his voice triggered naked and inarticulate feelings that set shivers up Lily’s spine.  From the looks of him, he was no better than she; but she had attended to his purchase and had no doubt that he was a gentleman, albeit in the rough. She thought to let his nature serve her need.

“This silk suits my purpose well, sir,” Lucie replied politely, but a lady’s hauteur was like a pinch of cayenne in her voice as she  tossed her hair and tipped her chin, turning so that her unblemished profile was what he saw.

Her dark-eyed scrutiny touched his face, his hair, and then slid to his mouth. Her voice dropped a little lower when she asked, “And you, sir? Have you been satisfied?”
Brax
 player, 18 posts
 A bold highwayman
Wed 10 Sep 2008
at 00:02
Not As Of Yet
”Satisfied?” Brax asked, pursing his lips as he echoed the young woman.

By the Watcher, the lass well knows how to use her glance and her words to play the game . . . a subtle hint here, a delicate side-step there . . . she may look like a common tavern-wench, but I’ll wager that there is much more to her than meets the eye.

”No,”
he answered after a moment, with a quick shake of his head.

”For ‘tis a requirement of mine own satisfaction to see to it that the lady in question is also fully satisfied. And I have not, as of yet, had the opportunity to put the full measure of my resources into . . . play,” he added, his smile broadening into a rakish grin as he sketched a bow.

And I do perceive that you, my fine young lass, are sorely in need of my assistance if you are to walk out of this shop with that fetching silk that satisfies at least some portion of your needs.

He glanced over at the little tailor, and snapped his fingers to gain the man’s attention. ”Devlin. Please be so kind as to add the lass’s purchase to mine own.”

Brax’s hand dipped into his coin-purse, and he drew forth a coin and flipped it to the tailor, a coin that momentarily glittered gold as it passed through a shaft of sunlight.

”I trust that will cover it.”

He turned to the dark-eyed beauty. ”Might I have the pleasure of your company as I walk you to your destination? The streets are, I fear, not as safe as they should be for an unescorted young woman – most especially one of your charms.”

OOC: Brax has assumed that Lily – or he, on her behalf -- needs to purchase the bolt of silk from Devlin. ;-)

This message was last edited by the player at 00:51, Wed 10 Sept 2008.

Rhollin Grail
 player, 14 posts
 A savage heart
 a gentle heart
Wed 10 Sep 2008
at 02:11
Re: Not As Of Yet
"What are dreams compared to the sweet taste of waking life? Legends are made, and dreams seized opportunities. This I would gladly demonstrate if the honor of my name - the Grail family of which you so kindly asked - were not calling me to another sort of action."

Rhollin rose, Tyr following, and resumed his stance well above her. However, he positioned himself carefully, his weight shifting away and his countenance slightly angled down to reduce the threatening difference of his size.

"As a traveler I accept your welcome, Lucinda Blancoeur," he said, pronouncing her name as carefully as possible in the Aberhaven tongue, "and promise to return it. As a knight my words will translate to action. But not at this moment, I fear and regret. But there is a chance.

Will you be attending the Duke's ball? If not I will do anything to make it so. If you are, then find me there. In case others of my kin attend you will recognize me... by the feather I will have in my mask."


Rhollin took a breath and perhaps was going to say more, but caught his squire's glance and was reminded of his duty. He stepped back into a sweeping bow that filled their part of the street. When he rose he took another step backward, a symbolic Savann gesture that ended an encounter without turning one's back on their guest, and then resumed travel to the Duke's.

"I wonder, Tyr, is it foolish to be enamored of a woman - a human woman no less - by looks alone?" But no, it was her bearing. No peasant that one, despite her apparent attempt to be one.
Guildmaster
 GM, 30 posts
Sun 14 Sep 2008
at 04:06
1.1 The Trader's District
With jewels Moerdyn laid out neatly on the table before him, the fence picked each one up deliberately and examined them with his appraising eye. To what seemed like an eternity, the man finally said with a smile, revealing front teeth made of gold, "Alright. Give him his coin."

Without pausing for a beat, one of his guards stepped forward and handed Moerdyn a bag of gold.

"Now, beat it. I look forward to our next meeting, boy," the man said nonchalantly as he handed Moerdyn a new fox peg to replace the one Moerdyn handed to the fruit seller.

---

"Oh...Money is not quite the issue with you now, boy, isn't it. A real death mask is earned. Not sold or given," The woman said to Emeric. The shopkeeper opened his mouth to protest at his mother's words but seemed to know better. With a frustrated sigh, he gave Emeric a cold stare before disappearing into the backroom.

With her slow gait and slightly limp, it was only now that she finally stood before Emeric. She was old, wrinkled and very bent and when she looked up to regard the man in her son's shop, it was then that Emeric noticed that her eyes looked glazed over and was covered by a thin flim of grey - she was blind.

Reaching up to grope for Emeric's face, she said, "Come closer here boy, let me see who I'm talking to. Let me see if you are worth a deathmask."

---

The old woman smiled toothily at Yorgorov. Just before he left, she called out to him, "A fine piece you have there sir, but curious."

And curious indeed. She went back to her business and fingered the other masks that were on sale. The old woman's masks were no ordinary masks - she had spoken to them, to their previous owners - dead or alive, and learned everything there was to know about it. The old woman believed that every mask chose it's master and in this case, that mask chose him.

It is a pity she didn't get to read Yorgorov's fortune before he left her shop... she wondered what she would see.

---

Devlin caught the coin tossed in his direction and deftly guided it into his sleeve pocket. Pursing his lip, he added, "I'm a...a...assuming y...you'd w..wa..want m..me to m...m..make t..t...t...this l..la..lass 'ere a d..d..d..dress?"

With a sigh, the old tailor ambled over to Lily and started taking her measurements, "Y..your c..co..co..coin is g..g..good e..e..en..enough, s..sir." Nodding at Lily when he finished, Devlin returned to his  station and repeated Brax's orders, adding Lily's dress to the list.

But the tavern girl shook her head and reached for the bolt of cloth, thanking both Brax and Devlin. She didn't want Devlin to make her dress, Lily was quite capable of making her own and she would.

Shrugging lightly, Devlin said, "S..sss...suit... y..y..yo..your..s..self, g..g..girl."

---

Speak only when spoken to. Tyr nodded at Rhollin as he adjusted his backpacks. "If I may be honest sir. Yes, it is foolish to forget oneself and fall prey to the charms of if I might add, a sorceress."

"Magic is not to be trifled with in my experience," was all the young squire had to say before quickly resuming his position behind his master.

This message was last edited by the GM at 13:34, Sun 14 Sept 2008.

Brax
 player, 22 posts
 A bold highwayman
Sun 14 Sep 2008
at 22:13
A Hint of Things To Come (?)
Devlin caught the coin tossed in his direction and deftly guided it into his sleeve pocket. Pursing his lip, he added, "I'm a...a...assuming y...you'd w..wa..want m..me to m...m..make t..t...t...this l..la..lass 'ere a d..d..d..dress?"

With a sigh, the old tailor ambled over to Lily and started taking her measurements, "Y..your c..co..co..coin is g..g..good e..e..en..enough, s..sir." Nodding at Lily when he finished, Devlin returned to his station and repeated Brax's orders, adding Lily's dress to the list.

Brax had just about to reply to Devlin’s adding the making of the ball-gown to his own order when he felt a light touch on his forearm, and he looked down to see the lass give the slightest shake of her head.

”I thank you, good sir, for your kind assistance.”

Turning to the little tailor, she added,”And I thank you as well, Master Devlin, for your offer to perform the cutting and sewing. But . . . 'tis is a labour best left to mine own fingers, for I know my own wants better than anyone else.”

Shrugging lightly, Devlin said, "S..sss...suit... y..y..yo..your..s..self, g..g..girl."

”Never let it be said that I shan't do my utmost to see to it that a lass’s wants are well-satisfied,” Brax replied, with a twinkle in his eye.

”So be it, then, Devlin. I shall pick up my order on the morning of the day before Duke Dorian’s ball.”

”Y . . . yes s . . . sir. It’ll b . . . be r . . . ready, r . . . right enough,” the tailor confirmed with a nod of his head.

Once the two of them were outside Devlin’s shop, the lass sweetly thanked Brax again for his assistance, and for offering to escort her to her destination. She assured him, however, that she knew her way around in the city better than most, and that the route that she would choose would be perfectly safe.

She once more let the fingers of her left hand rest lightly on his forearm as she studied his face for a moment. ”Good sir, I hope that you shall do me . . . the honour of watching for me at the ball,” she whispered as she gave him an intriguing look, one ending with the slightest pursing of her lips that might have been intended to suggest a kiss.

Then she turned away and was quickly lost to his sight in the milling crowd . . .

OOC: This post was written with input from Lily by way of a PM. Lily, I know that you do not have time to work up an IC post at the moment. I hope that I have accurately reflected Lily (IC) as you wished her to be. If need be, I shall be happy to edit in order to more fully satisfy your wants . . . ;-) Of course, it is entirely possible that Lily may be playing Brax for a fool -- I leave that up to your own discretion. ;-)

This message was last edited by the player at 23:10, Sun 14 Sept 2008.

Rhollin Grail
 player, 19 posts
 A savage heart
 a gentle heart
Sun 14 Sep 2008
at 23:18
Re: A Hint of Things To Come (?)
"A sorceress? What a land this is to have the fey-blooded wandering the streets like peasants."

Rhollin had not noticed that particular eldritch feature of the girl, though such was to be expected of the knight. Magic was extremely uncommon amidst the Leonyr; it was likely Tyr's talent for insight that made it jump out to the lad.

"Some intuition you have, boy. I would declare you brimming with superstition birthed from unfamiliarity, had you not an uncanny knack for such accurate observations. Well, off with us, then."

OOC: No more need for me to be in this thread; just using the response to Tyr to build some details.
Moerdyn
 player, 6 posts
 Less than a prince
 More than a thief
Mon 15 Sep 2008
at 05:31
Re: A Hint of Things To Come (?)
Moerdyn bowed slightly to the man and strolled out, slipping the gold into a hiddenspot on his shirt.  he strolled back into the busy amrket and glanced around.  He would need a mask for this ball, apparently.  He was tempted to wear his black veil, but he had been seen in it before while on jobs and running into his former...donaters would be incredibly inconvenient.

Still, there had to be someone who could make him a mask of silver and red.  Perhaps even make his face look like that on the coins he always left behind.  If he DID run into a former mark...the irony would be as delicious a flavor as he could imagine.

His smirk born anew, he kept his eyes open for any shop that could make a mask.
Emeric
 player, 12 posts
Mon 15 Sep 2008
at 09:43
Re: 1.1 The Trader's District
Guildmaster:
"Oh...Money is not quite the issue with you now, boy, isn't it. A real death mask is earned. Not sold or given," The woman said to Emeric. The shopkeeper opened his mouth to protest at his mother's words but seemed to know better. With a frustrated sigh, he gave Emeric a cold stare before disappearing into the backroom.

With her slow gait and slightly limp, it was only now that she finally stood before Emeric. She was old, wrinkled and very bent and when she looked up to regard the man in her son's shop, it was then that Emeric noticed that her eyes looked glazed over and was covered by a thin flim of grey - she was blind.

Reaching up to grope for Emeric's face, she said, "Come closer here boy, let me see who I'm talking to. Let me see if you are worth a deathmask."


Emeric remembered some of the tales he was told as a child, of the three goddesses, the Girl, the Maiden, and the Hag.  He now had a new image for his mind when contemplating the Trio.  Yet he had never felt the usual revilement when the Hag was discussed.  It was after all a natural progression in the world, from new life, to maturity and reproduction, to decay and hopefully rebirth!  When he had met his father, he had understood some of why he felt this way.  It was natural.

Now it was natural for him to lower his face into the waiting hands, and say, "Come Mother, this face is yours to see."  Staying still Emeric felt the hands trace lines he didn't know he had, and cover all of his face with her finger tips.  The sensation was weird.  Here was someone who was going to be fully capable of describing his face is full detail.  That was something he had never let happen before.  He had expected her to tense or pull away as she neared some areas of his face, but she simply examined them in detail and moved on.  For the first time in over seven years Emeric found himself calling out his fathers name.  "Sileaunus"

This message was last edited by the player at 08:17, Wed 17 Sept 2008.

Guildmaster
 GM, 36 posts
Sat 20 Sep 2008
at 11:56
Re: 1.1 The Trader's District
It did not take long for Moerdyn to locate a mask shop that would sell the mask he fancied. A simple silver frame that was bent roughly into a shape that would fit a man's face, it had gold lining and distinguishing the two halves of it's face was it's deep red and silver paint. A mask that both hid and identified Moerdyn blatantly - it was almost as if it was written in the stars.

----

"Sileaunus," the old woman repeated with a sigh. Raising his head, Emeric looked at the woman who had examined his face with such intent. It is undescribable what

"Perhaps you might be worth the while. But...You intend to use this mask merely as a prop to partake in the Duke's charity ball, are you not?" she asked pausing for a moment before explaining, "A deathmask is not a simple play toy. Not any mask that is just used for a grand ball."

"If you require such a mask, you must do 3 tasks to acquire it. Think carefully because once you agree, you cannot go back on your word. And think wisely, because it is no simple task." the woman warned. A smile appeared on her cracked lips, revealing a row of yellowed and blackened teeth, "I can loan you an ordinary mask for your needs - for now."

This message was last edited by the GM at 03:43, Sun 21 Sept 2008.

Sister Agatha
 player, 3 posts
Sun 21 Sep 2008
at 21:04
Re: 1.1 The Trader's District
Agatha listened to the birds outside the town and shook her head.  Capricious creatures they were, so full of fear!  She was made of sterner stuff and the city held what she wanted.  She slipped in among the crowd into Aberhaven: another old pilgrim.  People were not polite, she noticed, through the jostling of crowds.  They pushed and shoved as if she were half her age and not a woman of cloth.  Worse, after all the years, it was disorienting in the city, and she had to ask directions twice.  The market district appeared in the distance and she made her way inward.

She wandered lost until she looked up and saw a black bird perched on a building.  It looked just like one she had seen back a few streets, and then, before that, at the gate.  If it had been the same as the first, it had been quiet through the chatter of the others.  It was quiet now.  So, a bird without fear.  She didn't read an omen in it.  Sometimes these things happened.

She noticed, however, that it had alighted on a shop of jewelry, which she very much needed.  With her eyes hardening, she stood in the street.  She could sell the ring of silver she carried.  She was loath to part with it, but it was all she had.  It was a thing of old times, perhaps even of power.  Still, she was determined to walk this path.

She went inside.
Emeric
 player, 13 posts
Mon 22 Sep 2008
at 12:58
Re: 1.1 The Trader's District
Guildmaster:
"Sileaunus," the old woman repeated with a sigh. Raising his head, Emeric looked at the woman who had examined his face with such intent. It is undescribable what


The fact he had said his fathers name had shocked Emeric.  He wanted to run at the first realisation of his mistake, but couldn't drag himself away from the woman. Perhaps she realised who he was.  Hoping that this was not the case, as he didn't want to harm her, he looked deep into her eyes, to see what she might do with the information she now held.

Guildmaster:
"Perhaps you might be worth the while. But...You intend to use this mask merely as a prop to partake in the Duke's charity ball, are you not?" she asked pausing for a moment before explaining, "A deathmask is not a simple play toy. Not any mask that is just used for a grand ball."


"I seek a mask for the ball, that is all Mother.  What do you mean by a Deathmask?  What would it mean to me to have one?  Would it help keep my secret, for that is what I seek."  Emeric had decided to trust her, as she seemed to trust him.  The strange talk of a Deathmask did indeed intrigue him.

Guildmaster:
"If you require such a mask, you must do 3 tasks to acquire it. Think carefully because once you agree, you cannot go back on your word. And think wisely, because it is no simple task." the woman warned. A smile appeared on her cracked lips, revealing a row of yellowed and blackened teeth, "I can loan you an ordinary mask for your needs - for now."


"Mother, if it is something that will cost me much, then I need more information.  What could this Deathmask do for me?  And what kind of tasks would I need to undertake.  I warn you that I will not kill on a whim for anyone.  Nor will I do anything that I would consider evil, or make others suffer."  A hardness appeared on his face as Emeric said this.  His heart seemed to be calling out for him to accept this offer, but his mind was setting off alarms.  Could he really commit himself to something he knew nothing about.  He waited for an answer from her before he made any final decision.

This message was last edited by the player at 12:59, Mon 22 Sept 2008.

Guildmaster
 GM, 48 posts
Wed 24 Sep 2008
at 05:31
Re: 1.1 The Trader's District
The old woman merely chuckled at Emeric's conditions, "Did you not come walking through my shop door asking for a deathmask? "

"Surely.... you know what I mean, young Peleric," the woman intoned, her voice taking on a slightly darker timber as she breathed Emeric's pseudonym."Like I said earlier, a deathmask is not some fashion statement or charity ball accessory. It is almost like a living object, well considering the fact that it was from a living object. To own a deathmask, it is like owning another spirit so to speak. Whether your quest will lead you to do good or great evil, it is uncertain. Thus, one must think carefully before committing to taking possession of one."

The woman paused to consider Emeric once more, as if reading his thoughts and analyzing them for her own purpose, "You are of two minds. On one hand you are curious, you want the Deathmask and you grasps the possibility of owning one regardless of its consequences. However, you are also frightened. Afraid of what might happen should you agree to embark on this quest."

Smiling at Emeric with a knowing glance she offered, "Perhaps you need to think upon what you are asking once more before you return to me with an answer. And as for secrets, my only advice is to keep your tongue behind your teeth."

-----------------

The jewelry shop was a rather quaint looking one. Not only did it sell an sizable range of jewelry that consisted of necklaces, rings, amulets and pendants, it was also a shop that sold items that were said to have magical value. When Sister Agatha entered this jolly premises, she was assailed by the number of people within - did the city have so many rich folks willing to part ways with their money for some fashion statement?

Well, it became apparent soon enough that the crowd belonged to the same group - a bunch of young apprentice magic users out on an excursion of sorts. Looking pass the crowd was an middle-aged gentleman who had a set of green eyes and well combed peppered hair. Recognizing the usual nun's garb, he greeted Agatha, "Greetings sister. What can I do for you?"

This message was last edited by the GM at 05:39, Wed 24 Sept 2008.

Sister Agatha
 player, 5 posts
Wed 24 Sep 2008
at 19:06
Re: 1.1 The Trader's District
Sister Agatha considered the boisterous apprentices with no ill will.  She was a bit jealous of their lighthearted fun, but they made her smile: a slight crinkle of the lips and a lighting of the eyes.

"Greetings, brother shop-keeper, " she said to the dapper man, and she was about to say more when she paused.  What exactly should she say?  She wanted to save the man embarrassment.  She decided to keep the details simple.

"I have to go on a personal journey of the spirit, but traveling great distances can be quite costly, " she said.  "I have something that once meant a lot to me.  It still does."  She took out the ring and set it on a counter.  She draped the necklace chain gently over it with a hint of reverence.  "It's something I have held on to for a long time, but perhaps it's time for a new generation.  I have no children, so there's no one to save it for.  You see, it's the sort of ring you give a sweetheart or your wife.  It's of very fine quality."

She didn't visually betray her nervousness, but her words were docile for her.  It was because Sister Agatha was not used to selling and buying things anymore.  She wasn't sure, other than listening to the chatter of the young, new nuns, what prices were anymore.  She didn't like being unsure of her self, so she pretended to be quite sure of her self, just as an old lady tends to be.
Emeric
 player, 15 posts
Wed 24 Sep 2008
at 19:07
Re: 1.1 The Trader's District
Guildmaster:
"Surely.... you know what I mean, young Peleric,"


Emeric shivered as she emphasised his name.  So she knew something then, the thought to himself, as he regarded her.

Guildmaster:
the woman intoned, her voice taking on a slightly darker timber as she breathed Emeric's pseudonym."Like I said earlier, a deathmask is not some fashion statement or charity ball accessory. It is almost like a living object, well considering the fact that it was from a living object. To own a deathmask, it is like owning another spirit so to speak. Whether your quest will lead you to do good or great evil, it is uncertain. Thus, one must think carefully before committing to taking possession of one."

The woman paused to consider Emeric once more, as if reading his thoughts and analyzing them for her own purpose, "You are of two minds. On one hand you are curious, you want the Deathmask and you grasps the possibility of owning one regardless of its consequences. However, you are also frightened. Afraid of what might happen should you agree to embark on this quest."


"I frighten not easily Mother.  More so, caution keeps me alive in this dangerous world" Making sure he put his point across.  Fear was something he had left with his father, and little unsettled him most days.  Yet the woman was unsettling him.  Standing taller, Emeric makes as if to leave, before...

<quote Guildmaster>
Smiling at Emeric with a knowing glance she offered, "Perhaps you need to think upon what you are asking once more before you return to me with an answer. And as for secrets, my only advice is to keep your tongue behind your teeth."

Very true, he thinks to himself, and reminds himself of why he is here.  "Til later then.  Now you offered a mask more in keeping with the masquerade.  Let me see, and then I'll think further on your words. "
Guildmaster
 GM, 49 posts
Thu 25 Sep 2008
at 03:13
Re: 1.1 The Trader's District
The shopkeeper took Agatha's trinket and started to weigh it with his hand. He twisted his lips and shook his head once before reaching under the counter to fish for a magnifying glass. As Agatha told her tale, the man merely nodded politely. It is uncertain whether he even heard her story.

"Your ring," the man started looking at Agatha with sympathetic eyes, "won't be saleable in this day and age, sister." Placing a magnifying glass over the ring, the man highlighted the grooves and scratches made by age and explained, "I cannot sell this if it is so worn. But you are quite right, it's made of a fine quality that is why it is still lasting today. I can melt it down and make it into a new ring with a more fashionable design. But that is going to cost me and I have to take these costs into consideration."

The man opened his coin purse, retrieved a few coins and said, "I'm sorry sister, but this is all I can offer you for the ring."

----

The old woman smile and said, "Good. Good. I look forward to seeing you again. I believe my duty is done, my son shall tend to your needs." With that, the woman shuffled to the doorway and disappeared into the backroom, though which the jubilant shopkeeper re-emerged. Upon seeing Emeric still there, he forced a smile and asked merrily, "Ah! It's master Peleric again. So, which of these masks catches your fancy?"

This message was last edited by the GM at 03:14, Thu 25 Sept 2008.

Sister Agatha
 player, 8 posts
Mon 29 Sep 2008
at 22:57
Re: 1.1 The Trader's District
Agatha shook her head and took back the ring.  "You are a gentleman, but I cannot take them, " she said, her voice touched by a slight irritation, perhaps because he gave no value to something she treasured, perhaps because he had foiled her hopes.  "For a quest, selling something holy is a worthy sacrifice, but to give it up for a few coins is a betrayal."  Her eyes crinkled, as if her words had given her a realization and there was some newfound gratitude in his making the decision easy.  It may have sounded perverse for a nun to talk about objects holding spiritual value.  She had the words to explain, but she felt no need to justify herself.  There was seldom interest in the minds of jewelers or apprentice wizards for such matters, and, being a practical sort, she decided to fix on a new plan and leave instead of preaching a self-justification.

"Perhaps you can direct me to another jeweler?"
Guildmaster
 GM, 56 posts
Wed 1 Oct 2008
at 03:33
Re: 1.1 The Trader's District
The shopkeeper looks slightly taken aback, obviously shocked that this sister would take back her ring. She didn't look at all like she could afford much, nor was she in a place to haggle for a better purchase - but, he had to respect her decisions. And offending her would be blasphemous, wouldn't it? She was after all a servant to the gods.

"Yes, yes sister," the man nodded with her in agreement, "I am sorry I cannot offer you a better price. There are a few jewelers down that way, along Hornet street."

Bowing his head to her in mild reverence, as if waiting for her to bless him with some holy prayer, he bid her farewell. "Farewell sister. Hrm..." He paused... and started, "I'm sorry sister, but pardon me asking. If you are quite unwilling to part with something so holy, why sell it in the first place?"
Sister Agatha
 player, 10 posts
Wed 1 Oct 2008
at 14:10
Re: 1.1 The Trader's District
"Brother, objects are only holy when we they mean something to us, " replies Agatha with a smile.  She hesitates and then continues.  "This ring was once my wedding ring."  She slides the chain over her head again, slowly.  "That was a long time ago now, but it's funny how time does not diminish some things."  She reaches into her pocket, withdraws the feather, and shows it to him.  "This was an invitation for the start of a journey.  Whether right or wrong, it means a lot to me.  Maybe it's something my husband would understand.  But, I don't think he would understand me giving away his gift for shelter and some bread."
Guildmaster
 GM, 58 posts
Sat 4 Oct 2008
at 00:51
Re: 1.1 The Trader's District
"I...I see," The shopkeeper listened. He looked at the feather Agatha showed to him and noted that it was not any feather picked off a bird in the street. "An invite you say?" As the sister turns the feather over to it off to him, the shopkeeper's eyes widens slightly as he notices the Duke's signature carved onto its stem. Is the feather from the Duke himself? The shopkeeper thought, If it is, then surely this sister is no small personality...Helping her would probably do him good in the long run...

Just as Agatha turned to leave, he started, "A..Ah sister, if it is shelter or bread you seek, I can perhaps point you to a place where you can be housed comfortably till you need to leave?"

This message was last edited by the GM at 00:52, Sat 04 Oct 2008.

Sister Agatha
 player, 11 posts
Sat 4 Oct 2008
at 02:28
Re: 1.1 The Trader's District
That would be one problem solved.  "What are you suggesting?" she asked, placing the feather back into her pocket carefully.  "I could use shelter for a little while, at least until tomorrow."  She kept her eyes sharp, though.  There was no telling if he didn't have some plans to waylay her and take the feather.  She could see the reaction it had wrought on him and she was no fool.

But his reaction did more than alert her to possible danger.  It alerted her to the greedy value the feather represented.  Realizing the feather's value, an idea occurred to her.  Maybe she could get everything she needed if she but produced the feather and waved it like a charm.  The more she thought about it, the more she felt it was right.  Did they who sent it expect her to work up the money on her own?  Maybe they did, but maybe they also had plenty to spare and wouldn't begrudge her pressing some debts onto their account.  Besides, if people gave her things freely, that were their choice.  She was not one to forget old helpers when it came to that.

"You'd also be a gentleman if you could tell me where a mask shop is, " she added rubbing her back.  "I need one for the ball."  She had walked too much already today.  She would have to sit down for most of the masquerade.
Guildmaster
 GM, 61 posts
Wed 8 Oct 2008
at 12:14
Re: 1.1 The Trader's District
"Ah yes, yes," The shopkeeper said quickly, "My brother. He owns a tiny book store that has a tiny bedroom above. It is not a big place, but I'm sure he wouldn't mind putting one who is a servant of god, up for a night. My brother is a very pious man... and I am sure your blessings, sister, will mean alot to him."

Clearing his throat uncomfortably, he added, "You see, my niece. She is very sick and I think perhaps a prayer from one who is so close to god, might help her?" The shopkeeper looked up hopefully at the old nun. Who knows, perhaps she might have some connections with the Duke and the Duke himself might help his niece, he thought to himself.

"You require a mask for the ball? Well, you can visit the mask maker at Hornet street or you can get any from the carts in the market. Everyone is selling masks these days. The ball is the only thing everyone talks about these days," The shopkeeper added.

This message was last edited by the GM at 12:15, Wed 08 Oct 2008.

Sister Agatha
 player, 13 posts
Fri 10 Oct 2008
at 01:38
Re: 1.1 The Trader's District
"Well, I can certainly pray for your niece, " replies Agatha kindly, "and I would love to pray with her.  If you give me the directions, I'll go see her right away and talk with her."  Why is she letting herself be drawn into life's problems again?  What if she finds that the niece is very sick?  What if she finds out that some part of her cares about the girl?  Will she take care of her?  What about her quest?  Can this be a test?  If it is, is that what the bird meant?  Agatha has a soft spot for young girls in trouble; she cannot help it.  She will acquire a mask, see the poor girl, and then be on her way to the masquerade.  She cannot miss the masquerade, that's all.  She'll just have to be careful about it.

Once she gets the directions, she goes out into the street and goes from mask merchant to mask merchant; she flashes the feather to see what she might get from it.  If she plays it just right...