Chapter 3: The Lord's House

[drpete]

Early Evening, Day of the Shark

Glulditch Court is a lonely cul-de-sac situated between the Rich Men's Quarter and the Crafts Quarter, a dead-end street overlooked by most Lankhmarts. It seems a street forgotten by the city at large.

One three-story, narrow stone building has clearly been abandoned. The wooden boards over its shuttered windows and the rusty chain and lock securing the front door are weathered with age. Dead ornamental bushes flank the short steps leading up to the entrance portico and the lawn is strewn with broken tiles fallen from the building's steep roof. A single narrow alleyway presumably leads to the rear garden of the empty home. Strangely, the third floor laks any windows, presenting a solid stone façade to the court below.

Looking about you, you see Glulditch Court is mostly empty, and the sounds of traffic on nearby Silver Street is muted. A light fog fills the air with the scent of cheap temple incense. You feel you can approach the home undetected.

Though unnoticed by each other, so far, you are all there on this night to investigate this house, each for your own reasons. It's my understanding that only Shmehk and Raamiz know each other at the moment. I'll give each of the newcomers a reason to be checking out this house, that they can share (or not) as they see fit when it becomes convenient. You are not a party, you are each other's competition, but perhaps that will change.

[shaidar]

Shmehk whispers to Raamiz

"Perhaps we should look for a less conspicuous entrance around the back?"

[AureoBuendia]

Aurs Bonne arrives to the house slowly studying the area as he approaches the entrancee. He believes he knows who owned this place and is curious about it.

How similar is this lodging to what I would expect from him? Is it what I would expect or is it our of character?
Did I arrive early enough to meet other people at the door or not?

[drpete]

Aurs Bonne arrives to the house slowly studying the area as he approaches the entrancee. He believes he knows who owned this place and is curious about it.

How similar is this lodging to what I would expect from him? Is it what I would expect or is it our of character?
Did I arrive early enough to meet other people at the door or not?

There are a number of... lowlives loitering in the cul de sac (the other characters), which is unusual for this fairly well off area. The building looks pretty old and run down for him.

[Trinculo]

Well this seems awkward. What is my reason for checking out the house?
Edit: oops nvm.

[Trinculo]

Edit: Alright, changed.

A pale-faced man with intricately-braided blond hair tramps up alone. The pale man is wearing a big bulky bear-skin coat. The tip of a long-sword peaks out underneath the coat-hem down near his boots. This is Asle Lunn.

He seems surprised at the number of people here in the cul-de-sac, and nods briefly at Shmek and Raamiz before finding a corner in which to relieve himself. He takes his time at this, casting covert glances out at the others, to see what they will do.

[Wintermute]

A stout Northerner hears the footfalls of a number of people nearby. His icy blue eyes can be seen squinting from around the corner of a building. His hair is dark brown with a light touch of gray.

I'm going with the story that I don't know any of these people, and just happen to be in the area... if that is OK. What is the proper format for internal monologue, since my character does not speak much and will not understand most of the languages the party may use (although I think a fair number know Northspeak)? Should I just include it in my normal descriptions?

[Trinculo]

I think everyone knows North Speak.

[Marullus]

You got it, GM.

Fiemar Snow-born

A lanky Northman approaches from down the alley as Aurs Bonne approaches the entrance. Well-heeled, this one is, he thinks, straightening his jerkin and lowering his cowl to look presentable, making sure the leather-wrapped sword hilt behind his shoulder isn't threatening. ...been all day, waiting for someone who is neither coyote nor vulture. "'scuse me, sir," he says politely in Low Lankhmarese, "...this your place?" His casual smile creases his leathery, weather burned cheeks. He then bows, assuming it is custom for addressing ones social betters, tucking back his white-blond braidrows as he does so.

[drpete]

I think everyone knows North Speak.

Sadly, not quite.

[drpete]

I'm going with the story that I don't know any of these people, and just happen to be in the area... if that is OK. What is the proper format for internal monologue, since my character does not speak much and will not understand most of the languages the party may use (although I think a fair number know Northspeak)? Should I just include it in my normal descriptions?

Northspeak and Low Lankhmarese are both almost common languages for the group, as will eventually become clear. When you talk, include something to indicate which language you are speaking. I don't really want the language thing to be a huge ooc hassle, but if it generates some interesting complication, I'll happily toss out fleeting luck for making it an ic complication.

On internal monologue, there's no strict rule. Maybe pick a color, and indicate that it's thoughts. An option might be to put it behind a spoiler tag, but I'm not going to require you to do that.

[AureoBuendia]

Aurs Bonne

"'scuse me, sir," he says politely in Low Lankhmarese, "...this your place?"

Aurs Bonne turns to look at Fiemar Snow-born, towering over him (I assume at 6' 10" he towers over everyone he sees). Though the posture is not as threatening as you'd expect from his size.

His years navigating both the high and low society has taught him to not judge people by their accents and background, the efforts to sound presentable were not needed. But he appreciates the gesture of formality as a sign of decency. Of course, his experience navigating the lower parts of society has also taught him such gestures are usually followed by a literal back stab.

"No," he replies in the accent he uses when he is about the bar with people his family would refer to as 'those people'. And he adds "You are here, because?", with a barely noticeable intonation of authority he picked up form those that think of themselves as the 'better people'.

[Marullus]

Fiemar Snow-born

Fiemar, normally tall himself at 6'1", is intrigued by the long-legged stork before him. He stands confidently, thumbs hooked in his belt. "A matter of business, is all; delivery of ordered goods... Been long weeks to get here and seems they moved shop, hmm? If you can point me to the owner, I shan't bother you further. What's his name? Is he elsewhere? Or are deliveries still here?" He casts his eyes over the boarded windows and chained door.

[shaidar]

Shmehk

The larger of the pair turns away from speaking to his slight companion and surveys the street, taking note of the activity. He acknowledges the nod from the northman.

The man is of average height and build, wearing light armour and carrying a long sword at his side. His swarthy complection and dark hair would likely be recognised by the northmen as marking him as a man of the Eight Cities.

He turns back to his companion and speaks, again keeping his voice low so as not to be overheard

"This place seems busier than I imagined, I wonder why these fellows loiter. Perhaps we have stumbled upon some kind of pickup area, Lhankmar is known to be rather...ahem... cosmopolitan...I think we should not hang around for too long"

[Wintermute]

Hlalf
The others hear a man clearing his throat as a yet another mysterious Northerner stalks into view. His arms are dangling across a black iron warhammer casually slung across his shoulders. He turns his head in the general direction of the abandoned dwelling and spits.

"Wouldn't go in there if I was you..." he mutters to nobody in particular in slow guttural North Speak. His icy eyes scan the various miscreants arranged before him, sizing them up, "haunted."

He smiles fiendishly, convinced he's scared them away from his prize.

I think everyone is currently speaking Low Lankmar, but Hlalf can tell from the gesturing and where everyone is looking that they are speaking about the house.

[Enoch]

Raamiz replies to Shmeck in a high-toned whisper. "Agreed--far too much attention for my liking. Your idea of going around back sounds best."

The slight man pulls his hood closer about his face and waits for an opportune moment, perhaps during a bit of conversation when everyone is looking elsewhere, to slip down the alley.

[drpete]

A picture of the activity in the cul-de-sac is slowly coming in to focus...

There are several Northmen lurking around, and they are slowly converging on a lone nobleman, out alone after dark. Mumbled words in the Cold Tongue are exchanged.

Looking at the small group, Asle notes that one of them is marked as an outcast, shunned by the Snow Clans of the north. A jolt of energy passes through him at the sight. Good or bad, it's hard to say.

Shmehk and Raamiz see this scene developing in the street, and have been acknowledged by the Northerners, whi don't seem to be blocking your access to the alleyway...

[Marullus]

Giving AureoBuendia a chance to post before adding further...

[AureoBuendia]

Aurs Bonne sees too many people gathering about the house at the same time. He makes sure to track their movements as best he can, positioning himself to go after anyone that tries something. He is not sure what's in the house nor the strangers' reasons to be lurking around it, but he feels inclined to protect the house until he knows more.

[Marullus]

Fiemar Snow-born

Fiemar adjusts his positioning to make room as Hlalf walks up to speak to Aurs Bonne as well. "Haunted?" answers Fiemar in Low Lankmarese, unaware of the language barrier. "Good thing you're here to help us then," he replies to Hlalf, offering a polite smile. He watches Asle Lunn askance as the man continues to relieve himself on the cobbles of the wealthy housing district, making no move to associate with him. Not the place for that, but... he thinks as a shock of unexpected recognition goes through him. ...something odd about that one. Some knot in the loom...

As Shmehk and Raamiz circumvent the group and head for the single narrow alleyway which presumably leads to the rear garden of the empty home, it appears they distracted Aurs Bonne mid-conversation. Fiemar follows his gaze, but interjects again to spur the conversation further. "You DO know this place, then, yes? The owner's name? Do they still take deliveries here?" he repeats in Low Lankmarese.