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Travelers of Ragoreth

Dice System
D&D 5e

BittyBobcat

Llama hand
It does not rain in the city of Theb.

Floodplains may leave windows facing walls of water for weeks on end and the mud-caked ground may arguably be more liquid than earth, but these are all problems of the outside—it does not rain in the city of Theb. The glistening mountain of a city is surprisingly dry for its surroundings (though, there isn't a single wall that hasn't known water damage). Sure, leaks occur here and there, but the build team (colloquially, and unfortunately, known as "the Pluggers") is quick and thorough, and those that reside in the lower-cost housing toward the outer areas of the city have long since grown accustomed to the smell of mold... a smell which hangs thickly in the air surrounding the Western gate, the aptly-named main entrance to Theb.

Between the mud layering the floor and the winds roaring against the walls, it's hard to tell where the outside ends and the city begins, but a large, domed building sparkling with inlaid gold is enough to show the mark of civilization.

Voices raised in argument over which shipment was received when. Cargo thumping against the floor as it's removed from its too-small container. The thundering creak of the gate as its winch pulls its doors achingly open and shut. The Guildhouse is always brimming with activity and noise which echoes down its ornate halls. The structure has been built in to the entrance, forcing any who walks through it to face the judgement of the Travelers' Guild before they may go about their business in the city. In recent months, it's been even busier than usual as more and more materials for Theb's infamous railway project arrive.

Directly through the main hall of the Guildhouse—through which most visitors pass—lies the Candlelit Market. Filled with enchanted candles that float lazily through the air and never seem to go out, the market is lit at all times of day (and, with 'time' being as arbitrary as it is within a rock-roofed city, crowded with people equally as often). Travelers, both Guild-certified and not, rent out colorful stalls to sell their wares to a myriad of customers that come from the furthest reaches of the city to have first pick on foreign goods while less overt deals are made through whispers, covered boxes, and poorly-carved passageways that no city plans ever included.

Here—in this patchwork crowd of those wealthy enough to afford custom shipments from beyond the city's walls and those forced to pickpocket for the coin that will buy their next meal, of Travelers who would be more comfortable in a frozen tundra than a market square and city-dwellers who have walked more on carved marble streets that they know like the back of their hand than dirt, and of people with skin, fur, and scales of every color—we gather our party.
 

myrkwise

New Member
Mori whistled almost whimsically as they strode across the marbled streets of the Candlelit Market, stalking with keen interest for prey. Wearing the face of an inconspicuous, brown-nosed street boy, it was like a veil had fallen over him, casting him in a mental fog from which any passerby would hopefully only glance at in either distaste or mild sympathy - both of which Mori had no use for. These higher ideals and concepts had their place and time - often relegated to wistful daydreams and hopelessly optimistic fantasies of a brighter, better world. They would occasionally spend hours scrawling these concepts into parchment or the very walls of the hovels they dwelled in. In truth, though, Mori recently found themself without much time for those thoughts, especially as it had seemed that once lax and glazed eyes had gradually grown more wary of the nimble grasps of orphan children in the dark streets of Theb.

The only thing that interested them at the moment was a chance to snatch something that could fetch them a decent meal - or, perhaps, a decent meal in of itself.

They scanned the crowds shifting back and forth across the marketplace, keeping a keen eye out for any easy targets.
 

Henry Ferris

A thousand steps is progress. As is one.
Rixen Verdassian
Paladin of the Everlight

Theb felt alien and yet strangely familiar to Rixen, as the city felt like an extremely large burrow; dry, enclosed, and a bit cramped. But, this place was massive, and filled to the brim with assorted flavors. It was a touch musty for his liking, but it was better than the muck of the surrounding Stormland.

The first few days of Theb was an intoxicating experience for him. His senses were overwhelmed as he tried to take in all the city at once. Even as he now weaved through the mulling crowd, his whiskers twitch with excitement as often as something new enters his gaze. But today there was a goal in mind, and that was to find a decent whip to replace the one lost he'd lost while trudging across the Stormfront. His woody green eyes taking in the surroundings while his ears gyrated to tune in to the conversations of the Candlelit Market.

It wasn't long before he came across a vendor for stable supplies, who gave Rixen's somewhat feral apparel a once over before their business sense and a smile kicked in. As the merchant pulled a few whips out for him to peruse, Rixen kept an ear on the argument nearby in case it was something he could assist with. Blissful unaware of any unscrupulous eyes that may be watching.


myrkwise myrkwise [Man in the Mirror]
 
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myrkwise

New Member
Mori let out a faint grin as they spotted a strange seeming, rabbit-like man, of a sort they had never seen before. He seemed to be quite preoccupied with his business, the central focus of his eyes and (oddly large) ears obviously directed elsewhere. They also spotted a slightly exposed purse hanging about his body, one pressed down with the weight and creases of what could only be taken for coins.

In other words, a perfect target.

Mori decided to make this operation swift and simple - after all, they had other matters to attend to after their "shopping" venture. They casually sauntered over across to the man, before "stumbling" over, tripping on a convenient pebble on the street. Fallen to the ground, their face smushed slightly onto the mildly moist marble, they struggled for a few seconds to rise - but rise they did. While in the motions of brushing off the dust and grime that had gathered on their form, they made their move - they reached out in as nimble of a movement as they could manage for the prized pouch.

Sleight of Hand Check : 16 + 5 = 21

Henry Ferris Henry Ferris
 

Tapfic

Sleeping
Lan wasnt much for loitering, not when the opportunity to go out and do things- things that involved moving- and fighting- was so much sweeter.
Though there wasnt much opportunity for either to happen without a rodent chewing the insides of his pocket to shreds as he walked down the street.

" Quit, you-" Lan stuck his hand in his own pocket , closing it around the chewing deity- only to recive a bite to the tip of his finger; deep enough to draw blood.

With a muttered curse he yanked the appendage back. Blood trickled in a thick line down his skin- until he stuck the bitten end into his mouth.

" Bitch," he swore between teeth and one bleeding finger, when the sight of a kid eating pavement caught his eye.

With an abrupt turn of his heel his path changed trajectory.

" Kid- you okay?" He called as he approached- they had already managed to right themself and dust their clothes off, but it was best to be safe.

myrkwise myrkwise
 

myrkwise

New Member
Mori smiled as they stowed the successfully poached pouch into their own pockets. They were about to continue onwards as if little had happened when they heard another voice close by. Frowning somewhat at first, they turned to face the voice, seeing a human staring out at them.

"I'm alright!," they chirped as they attempted to scurry out of the situation.

Tapfic Tapfic
 

BittyBobcat

Llama hand
Not too long before the strange assortment of seasoned travelers and those soon to be had arrived at the Candlelit Market, a so-called God strode down one of the many artfully carved halls of her home. A storm-grey dragonborn one moment and a white-haired elf the next, her form shifted like vapor on the wind. With every step, a new form. Every second, another face.

Metas was light, there was no getting around that. Whatever her appearance—for the time, a towering half-orc woman—might suggest, her footsteps made no sound. In fact, whenever they hit the ground, her shoes and feet disappeared into a puff of steam that billowed outward in a small cloud before oncemore merging with the illusion. For this reason the sound of hasty talons on marble quick-approaching was impossible to miss.

"Er, madam," a kobold squeaked, trotting to keep up with the God's pace. "Madam Metas!"

She halted. Without turning, her body flickered. In an instant, she stood as a halfing, facing the kobold at eye-level. "You have something for me?"

"Yes, ma'am." He held out a cylindrical bamboo message-box. "The delivery has arrived, but the workers are predicting they'll need more materials by the end of the month for construction to continue at a steady pace."

Metas hummed—a quiet, drifting sound more akin to wind brushing through leaves than any noise that would come out of a throat. Beside her, pair of disembodied, icy hands formed to take the box and pop it open. She skimmed the scroll within, confirming the kobold's words, and nodded. "Send for a new shipment from Es."

The kobold's tail twitched, sliding nervously against the floor. "Ah, about that, ma'am. The Traveler's Guild has no standby teams in Theb at the moment."

"Outsource it."

"But who—"

"Just send someone to the Candlelit Market and tell them to bring a travelling party back," she snapped, already beginning to walk away again in the form of a drow. "And make it quick."

And so the kobold proceeded to go to the nearest room—one that just so happened to belong to a pink tiefling by the name of Seraphima—and deliver that exact message.

ritarita ritarita
 

ritarita

NIFFLER LOVER
Seraphima was humming to herself brushing her hair with her usual 100 strokes a day. Not noticing the other just yet. She was one who never ventured far out of the house if She didn't have too. This being all she's known for quite some time. Preparing for tonight just in case. Foot tapping as she placed down her hairbrush and stopped her humming for the moment. Checking her makeup in the mirror. As well as her outfit.





An Entertainer could never be too ready, was practically her motto. Her flirty nature was usually a good hit with patrons and such as well. She tried her best to do what she could to do her best to earn her stay in such a lovely home. Though sometimes it did not feel like quite enough. At least her own own opinion. She always tried to outdo herself.



Getting up to go grab a bit to eat and a drink. She saw the other blinking curiously. “How may I help you pumpkin?” She asked in her normal fashion tilting her head. Her long white hair falling over her shoulder. Dressed to the nines per usual. She appreciated everything she owned honestly.

Waiting patiently to see what the other might say. Leaning slightly against the doorframe that was luckily tall enough for her 6 ft frame. Once she received the information, She blinked slowly in confusion. Her? What qualifications did She have to gather people to go run that job? She was uncertain.


But nonetheless went on her way to get to the market. After looking in a mirror once more and grabbing a quick piece of fruit to eat on the way. Perhaps , her personality could win over a small group of folks who would be willing to do this job. She had no clue. But was willing to give it a shot.


Once she finally made it too the market and finished the fruit. She stood there for a moment looking around. “ If I was someone who was looking for work where would I be?.....” She murmured.
 
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