Fantasy World of Gea: The Greatest Adventure [IC] [CLOSED]

[Emperor Sagan]

Petro slowed his stride to walk near Paulin and those nearby. He scratched his chin in contemplation before nodding. "I suppose minotavur like milk," he agreed, "there is much you can do with it. If you take cocoa and sugar, you can make it taste... much better. It is hard to describe the flavor. Smooth and rich, like butter. Or if you take ice from winter and mix that with salt, you can churn the milk into a cold treat similar to a viscous cream. Or add milk to a good potato soup...." A versatile ingredient and a calming drink, it was.

He did ponder a bit at what Hrongar said about minotavur milk, somewhat oblivious. "Yes, I suppose milk from a minotavur pasture is better than from the cows elsewhere, I suspect. We raise our cattle quite well."

 

[Infab]

The previous few days seemed to play out in a rather eventful manner, really. But then again, when travelling, things were always eventful. The question really is how surprised or caught off guard you were when things DID happen. Devereaux spent much of his time playing his lute or singing to entertain the others. Little of what did occur surprised him. Goblins would be goblins, sirens would be sirens. And soon they found themselves nearing the Onion City. A city with layers, that one.

Devereaux listened quietly as the others spoke, his eyes glancing between the others beneath his mask. The dwarf's comment about the minotavur milk made him chuckle lightly, especially after Petro's reply.

 

[Fauxs]

Callop thought he'd seen most of the outside world given the travels he had already faced long before with Fauxs, but the after the past series of days, he started to rethink his beliefs. Many events happened in the days that have passed such as random encounters with threatening creatures, risks and challenges for the company, and the questionable food. Although Callop and Fauxs did live off of edible berries and plants, it was still difficult to adjust to their current diet.

Eventually, the group reached their destination which was evident to the boy because everyone in the company perked up their heads as they took in the sights of the city. Callop was feeling rather queasy from the travel as he was not used to such transport, similar to Fauxs who only kept sleeping to avoid the nausea. The boy couldn't really join in the conversation because of his state but he could hear their discussion as he followed them from the sidelines.

 

[EdwardDewey98]

"...though there's no harm in me participating in a game or two."

Theodoric and a few other warriors travelling near Gawain cheered at the idea of playing cards with the undead sorcerer. Alberto managed to overheard them, and felt a bit relieved that not everyone in the company feared Gawain. Perhaps with time the whole company will look past the fact he creates undead from fresh corpses.

"Then... then we'll just have to try our hardest to make friends with them!"

"Careful lass. You don't want to open up to a bunch of rude ankle-biters too much."

Cécilia chuckled a bit as Sentry referred to the Hobs as ankle-biters. "Well, based on my experience I'd call them ankle-stabbers, everyone in that town carries a dagger, a sling, a short sword or brass knuckles." Paulin raised his eyebrows when he heard the last part. "Brass knuckles? Aren't they... like very short?" Alberto looked at the young man and gave him a smile. "Ah, they are scrappy little bastards."

"Yes, I suppose milk from a minotavur pasture is better than from the cows elsewhere, I suspect. We raise our cattle quite well."

Hrongar was about to say something, but his year-older brother, Hroki, stops hims with a punch on the shoulder. Another warrior in the caravan laughs before speaking to Petro. "Gods bless your innocence, beast boy." As that conversation ended, everyone watched in awe as they approached to the great walls of Waterham.

Cécilia looked at these walls with pure and utter fascination. "These are "Josephan's Walls" and they are a true testament of Hob endurance... over 20 meters of hard stone, these walls have halted the attacks of Brannorian soldiers, Eranoiran armies and Skæglin raiders with ease! Truly an impressive for such small race." There was no any signs of houses or small farms outside the walls, a rare sight among most walled settlements. The front gates and doors were, as expected for Waterham, close shut and there was no sign of guards in front of the gates. Alberto found the lack of guards a bit odd but then noticed something.

(Hob Language) "Oi, wots this then?" shouted a small, child-sized man standing on top of the walls. "Merry band of freaks just showin' up uninvited?". The small man wasn't alone, next to him were at least twenty others, all of them aiming their slings at the party. Slings were a rather simple weapon, but deadly in the hands of a Hob. "Oh good lady..." sighed Alberto, while Cécilia tried to look courteous. "Hello there sir! We are just a band of explorers and cartographers, we wanted to visit your lovely city and write about the roads that cross it! I am also writing a guide for travelers and I want to know about the history of Waterham!" The hob on top the walls snorted out loud when Cécilia finished explaining herself. "Bloody Hel, ya tall buggers always find an excuse to come here! Ugh, call the Sheriff, tell her about these wyrdos." "Wyrdos?" repeated a warrior. "At least we ain't short. No offense to the dwarves of course." murmured another.





After one of the guards at the top of the wall left, the party had to wait just a few minutes before the massive gates and thick wooden doors to Waterham opened for the company, revealing the wonderful city they've tried to reach the past week. Everyone was surprised by the sheer size of the houses, which shared a similar style to that of Eranoiran houses but they also had a slight touch of Brannorian aesthetics to them. The cobbled streets were full of people and carts carrying various agricultural goods such as grain, pumpkins, corn and most importantly, onions, and these were huge onions.

The most impressive sight was the Griffin Riders flying above the city, the practice of riding Griffins began somewhere in Lykos in the Forgotten Era but the practice became popular with some of the knight orders of West Helmos and it is known to be the main focus Knights of the Griffon. The Hobs of Waterham were known for keeping and training Griffins too and they are used regularly by their constables and their scouts.

As amazing as these sights were, the party couldn't wait any longer before exploring the city further. But before the company could head deeper into the city, they had to deal with the small army of Hob constables that were standing in front of them, carrying spears, daggers and slings. There were at least a hundred standing in front of them, it was quite the welcoming party. They seem to be led by a scrappy-looking Hob woman. The Sheriff of Waterham.

"Bloody Hel, you lot are truly wyrd." said the Sheriff while approaching the caravan. Her voice was deep and a bit coarse, it was rather intimidating. "State yer business and don't waste me time, I was having a jolly good time with me children when ye freaks showed up... fuckin'el, wots that!?" she said while pointing a finger at Gawain and his undead minion. The Hobs prepared their slings, aiming them at the undead sorcerer and his skeletal assistants. Cécilia cleared her throat, trying her best to find the correct way to introduce Gawain. "That... is master sorcerer Gawain, from Bran-"

"'tis a skeleton, that's what it is! ya wankers want me to let some... wot... a necromancer! walk here in tis very city?! are ye out of yer mind?" Shouted the sheriff while glaring at Cécilia. "By Gaia's tits..." said a hob constable by looking at Zen. "...wots that thing supposed to be? a walking bad omen?" Another constable looked at Gsera and seemed to point at her horns. "Heh, bet her dad shagged a goat." the other constables laughed at this lady constables joke. "If her dad shagged a goat then that lads mum shagged a bull!" said a constable while pointing at Petro. "Oi, cat lady over there dresses like me gran!" said a constable while looking at Kastalli.

"Notice how most of these lads seem Eranoiran... 'tis means that frog bloke over there is a walking ration!" said a constable with a spear while pointing it at Korzhev. "'tis a huge bitch that one!" shouted a Hob while pointing at Sentry. As the Hobs continue to ridicule the party, one them shrugs and then points at Devereaux and Syll. "At least one of 'em knows they are clown... not like the half-elf over there... bet ya the lad thinks he's a handsome devil!" Surprisingly, none of the Hobs make any comments about Callop, in fact a few give the child a few sympathetic looks. A few do look at Faux, making a few jokes about the canine creature's green hair. Since Grunde was still hidden inside their jar, they did not have to worry about being mocked by the Hobs.

"By Gaia..." whispered Cécilia as the Hob constables continued to mock her company. The Sheriff, still waiting for her answer, looked at her men and shouted. "Shut yer blood gobs you lot! 'Tis serious business, there's at least eight people here and we gotta check 'em, so stop shagging around!" The constables quickly get back in a defensive line, clearly intimidated by their sheriff. "So... will ya answer me then?" Cécilia took another breath before speaking. "Like I told your men on top of the gate... we are an expedition of cartographers and explorers, we wanted to stop by Waterham, explore your beautiful city so we can write it down."

The Sheriff seems to be a bit skeptical, but Cécilia quickly continued to explain herself. "...after the Second Maelstrom, the maps and records of the roads need to be updated." The Sheriff crossed her arms, looking at the company behind Cécilia for a moment before turning her attention back to. "Hmph... aye, the big storm cut off some of the trade here... and ye look official enough, I suppose... actually... ya lot might be able to help me with something." Cécilia looked at the others, even at Grunde who was resting on the jar next to her. "Uhm... help with what?" The Sheriff gives the scholar a grin. "...who in your company is good with magic?"

 

[joshuadim]

Gsera immediately felt both embarrassed and upset when one of the Hobs pointed to her to make fun of her horns, and placed a hand on one of them before turning away. "H-how mean..." she muttered with a break in her voice before regaining her composure and looked visibly upset. Although she herself had never met her own mother, she took insult to the fact someone would debase her in such a manner. "I don't appreciate you insulting my mother! How would you like it if someone insulted your own?" she replied towards the Hob constable that specifically insulted her. "I am a... a tuatha! The horns are a part of our being."

When prompted regarding magic, Gsera simply raised her hand unenthusiastically while pouting. "I work with druidic magic..."

 

[Beann]

Ever since Zen had confronted her about her husband, Kastalli had been keeping her distance from the Tengu. She was fully aware that it wasn't his fault for not knowing about the circumstances, and he did apologize for his behavior, but she still felt a little uneasy around him. So, for the past few days of travel, she mostly floated between keeping Syllannan company, learning interesting Eranoiran songs with Devereaux, and making sure Callop was alright. It was no surprise that they encountered a bit of trouble on the road but it was nothing the group as a whole couldn't handle. She had seen the lot of them in battle as is and at this point, she trusted them enough to take care of any dangers they may encounter in the future as well. Each and every member had their own talent and contributed to the efforts. Some more than others but that's to be expected considering the group was still newly formed.

Eventually, the expedition group reached a massive wall. Kastalli had to tilt her head all the way up to see the very top! Her gaze shifted over to Cécilia as she commented on the walls - Josephan's Walls. From her understanding, Hobs were a short bunch, about half her height, maybe even shorter. She couldn't fathom how such a tiny race would be able to accomplish such an impressive construction. Her attention turned back to the very top of the walls as a short man appeared, questioning why a band of freaks were at their walls. It seemed everyone they had encountered so far thought of them as freaks. Kastalli had to admit, they were a unique bunch but certainly not freaks!

After a few minutes of waiting, the gates of Waterham finally opened, allowing the party to enter the city. Before they could take the pleasure in exploring, they were stopped by a small army of Hobs, carrying various weapons as they looked upon their group in suspicion. Leading the tiny men was a rather intimidating woman who Kastalli assumed to be the sheriff they were talking about earlier. Who knew someone so short could be so frightening? She remained silent as she trusted Cécilia to do all the talking in order to grant them safe access through the city but before she knew it, the sheriff and the other Hobs were throwing insults left and right. Kastalli looked down at her clothes, this was traditional Skæglin attire! Well, minus all the furs to keep them warm. "Well, I am sure your 'gran' is a pleasant woman," she murmured, ignoring their attempt to piss her off.

The sheriff finally cut the insults short by repeating the question, to which Cécilia offered the same answer she did to the men at the walls earlier. With a moment of consideration, the sheriff asked another question, one which caused Kastalli's ears to perk. "I am able to do some magic." She piped up after Sera but was certain that whatever they needed help with, Gawain could handle himself.

 

[Roda the Red]

Ah, the great walls of Waterham, it has been a few months since Syll last saw them when he was low on supplies during his travels. He's been to the city three times in the past before, so the insults were nothing new to him, and even then being called a clown was probably the most tame insult he's received from the friendly hobs.

While Syllannan had little trouble with the outdoors lifestyle of an adventurer, the thought of having a proper meal at an eatery and sleeping on a bed under a solid roof was very enticing, the lack of hospitality being hardly an issue. Sadly it seems like the large numbers of the company had made the entry to the city more complicated as the locals were quite untrusting, yet thanks to Cecilia's way with words they had considered to allow passing. Although this came with a condition, the sheriff had made a question that left the elf frozen for a second: she needed people who were good with magic. What does she mean exactly, she can't be asking for anything complicated, can she? Syll thought to himself as he was doubtful how to answer.

After a good ten seconds or so he responded "U-uhm, sure, i am a skilled mage and i assure you i can help you with whatever you need!" now was that bullshit lie really necessary, you brainless abydocomist!?

 

[Dmaster]

Gawain could best describe the settlement they found themselves in now as quaint, not through being unimpressive just due to how much smaller in proportion things were. It made perfect sense, given the statures of the primary populace of Waterham, but it was still a bit of an oddity that he had to take in that he was growing accustomed to. The officials that greeted them seemed more like an angry mob, their weapons and armament looking rugged as their attitudes. The sheriff was quick to single him out, and before he could reply properly Lady Cecilia tried to interject at his defense. Fortunate as he was for that Gawain was prepared to defend himself, yet the other hobs were quick with their remarks. "Necromancy is but one of the arts I practice. The fact that I am undead now is a mere coincidence, frankly." he managed before Lady Cecilia cleared the air and explained their mission.

It was a good thing the sheriff possessed some sense about her, and even if she was skeptical of the skeletal mage he hardly cared so long as he wouldn't have to spend his time locked in a cell for just walking in the city walls. The question of who among the company was good with magic got him to tilt his head, though. "Hm? Well I am considered a master of the magical arts, yes. If it would help prove to you that I am not some soul-devouring creature of the night I would be happy to assist with what you may need." Gawain states.

 

[Ace Cream]

Zen

Finally, finally! The group finally arrived a Waterham. By the scenery alone, it looks like it would be a good place... if not for the hobs who spent most of their interaction throwing insults at every members of the expedition. Zen wasn't sure whether to take those insults seriously or not, but after some thinking... no. It just not worth it. 'walking bad omen', hah. It wasn't uncommon for him to be called that by strangers. He's practically immune to that insult. Though Zen couldn't suppress a brief chuckle when they mocked Devy's attire.

 

[FloweryMuffin]

He didn’t have many expectations from Waterham. Another city who employed the excessive use of stone in its architecture and who raised their buildings higher than they needed to be. He had very little to say about it, except perhaps to express his appreciation for building such an imposing city.

The Hobs weren’t quite what he expected either. When Alberto had mentioned that they were on the shorter side, Korzhev expected they would be standing at eye-level at the very least. But for once, he did not need to look up to the speaker. Not to mention that the speaker, a Hob with a particularly sharp spear, was trying to insult him.

“My, I don’t think I’ve been called emergency rations before! Worry not, it will be long before someone decides to have me on a platter! I do hope so, at least.” He’d whispered that last part to the constable, as if he were sharing some sort of secret.

And when the scholar had inquired about which of them were capable of using magic, he said, “I could perhaps help you, if it’s a shaman you’re in need of!”

 

[Emperor Sagan]

Petro scratched his chin at the hobs hurling insults their way. Better than stones, at least. He wasn't sure what the hob meant about his mother, after all, a male could also be called a bull, though he suspected it was an allusion to the cruder, simpler minded four-legged kin that lived in the pastures and not under a roof. He didn't realize that the rumors and warnings of their behavior was so literal. Calling them a contentious people seemed a bit generous now. It was a wonder they could be so short, yet so quick to run their mouths. How many could he knock over at once? Quite a few, he suspected.

Crossing his arms, he kept an eye out, making sure none of the hobs were up to anything while the negotiations went on.

 

[Develius]

Once in Waterham, Dakarai found himself towering over the tiny Hobs. He was already abnormally tall for someone in the expeditionary group, but to the inhabitants of Waterham, he might as well be a dragon. Yet instead of running in terror, the lot instead threw vulgar insults with ruthless disregard. One of the hobs gave him a foul glare, pointing in his direction. "Oi! Look at dis scaly freakazoid!" the loud-mouth hob exclaimed. Another hob took a gander at the Sobekan's gargantuan form and sniggered, "Ay! Ought'a make a pair o' nice ole' booties outta 'im! Would make a spankin' fortune, innit?"

The cleric gave an unamused glance before ignoring their petty insults. He was called far worse by others during his warrior days; both by his enemies and kin alike. This in turn was nothing - albeit distasteful towards other matters. When the sheriff asked who was good in magic, Dakarai slowly rose his hand.

"I am a Warrior Cleric." he stated bluntly, keeping his composure despite the conflicting feeling regarding lack of hospitality around him, "I will provide healing to those needing, in the name of Her Grace."

 

[Breadman]

Sentry listened to the hobbs hurl insults towards her companions and awaited whatever bile they could come up with her way and it was...she was tall and a woman? She blinked rapidly a bit surprised that that was it. She honestly felt that the lack of creativity was a bigger insult more than anything they said so far. Then a thought crossed her mind. Was that the intended insult? She was not worth the brain power to create anything more elaborate than the laziest possible observation. These taunts work on a different level than she expected. Well she could play their game too. Sentry would not give in to any tricky mind games.

Like the stone she could turn it, she would stay expressionless and ignore the runts.

"I can work with runes if needed."

 

[EdwardDewey98]

With each answer provided, the face of the sheriff changed. From her confident grin, to a puzzled expression, which then turns into a scornful look. "...Bloody Hel, ya lot truly are a walkin' bad omen innit?" Cécilia realized that some had not answered the sheriff, so she decided to introduce them to her. "...Well, besides these walking bad omens you are talking to, there's five other wizards from the 'Royal Academy of Sorcerous Arts of Eran'." The wizards seemed to be uninterested in introducing themselves, much to Cécilia's dismay. "Uh... there's also our friend and companion Callop! He uses animal-based druidic spells, and is surprisingly adept at it!" The Sheriff turned her attention to young Callop, her stern face softening up a bit when looking at the child. "Hm... wee lad can come with ye then, but lemme warn ya that w-" the sheriff suddenly stops as she sees a strange yellow eye emerging from the jar of slime sitting between Cécilia's thighs. "...W-What in the fookin' Hel is that?!"

"Oh... uhm... this is Grunde!" she said while lifting the jar with a smile. The Sheriff just looked puzzled and uncomfortable. "Worry not, miss... I assure you that Grunde is fully sentient and a lovely being. And most importantly, they know quite a lot about magic!" After processing that there was indeed a slime resting inside that jar, the Sheriff slowly looked back at Cécilia. "...Ya adventurin' blokes really are a queer sort." Now impatiently waiting to be let into the city, Alberto cleared his throat. "Sheriff, could you please tell us about this... issue you need help with?"

"Aye... Murders, but these ain' done by common means... Folks been killed by 'em wicked arts ya lot practice... burn marks, queer coloration... One bloke had his entire head shrunk! Seven folk died so far... six o'em being couples, no other relation." One of the constables actually approaches the constable. "Uhm... missus? Ya forget that them couples are all between humans and hobs?" The Sheriff remains quiet for a moment before suddenly punching her forehead with tremendous force. "BLOODY HEL! I am gettin' senile every damn year!" she shouted out loud, as some blood came down her forehead. Some of the group actually notice that she had other bruises on her forehead. "Fantastic, fookin' fantastic! hate crimes!"

As the Sheriff punched herself again and her constables tried to calm her down, Cécilia slowly turned her attention away from the Sheriff to look at Callop. "Uhm... it might be best if you stay with Alberto, Callop... This ain't exactly what I had expected it to be." Alberto was actually a bit puzzled by the Sheriffs request, and was sure to voice his questions once the law-enforcer stopped punishing herself for not realizing something. "Uh... Sheriff, why are you trusting strangers that just arrived in your town with this... case of yours?" As she began swiping the blood off her forehead, the sheriff responded. "Who says I am trustin' ya lot with anythin', eh? I just need the counsel of wyrd folk like ye 'cuz the only bloke in this bloody town who knew a thing or two about magic was eaten by a accursed Fachan abou' a year ago!"

"Well... if that's the case, we will happily help you if it means you'll allow us to enter your beautiful city and explore it." said Cécilia as she gently stroked Grunde's slimy head. Truth to be told, she wasn't exactly thrilled about helping the law-enforcement of this city in exchange of entering the city, she was a free spirit after all, and believes that there should be free traveling between civilized nations and its inhabitants. The Sheriff looked at the wyrd cast of character that will have to follow her before turning her attention back at Cécilia. "Aye, you'll be allowed to enter and walk around... but if ya tall folk try any funny business in me city... ya bet yer hides I'll punish ya lot with all the weight of the Hob law and believe me... ya lot don't want any of that." As small and not threatening as the Hobs might look, they all had serious looks on their faces, some of you felt like they were genuinely willing to do anything in their power to stop you if you were to wrong the inhabitants of Waterham. "Gather yer spell-casters, I'll lead them to the crime scene we have at the moment... and ya sorry lot better have some good answers for me!"



"Before you go, Sheriff..." interrupted Alberto as he got off his horse. "I wish to ask you about the services that Waterham could provide us... any noteworthy eateries? blacksmiths? healers? shopkeepers? inns? taverns? ...oh, and a place where I could take my horse." Despite having visited Waterham before, the rude attitude of the Hobs did prevent Alberto from actually exploring and knowing the city, he did know of an Inn but the owner was not only rude but also vocally xenophobic towards Humans and Alfari. The Sheriff scoffed a rude response, not amused by the amount of questions being asked. "Bloody Hel m'lord, want me to tell ya where ya can have a steamy hot shower too? Fookin'Hel! Sheriff Lydia Browndirt, professional signpost!" Alberto grunted and rolled his eyes. "...Madre Santa... just... please tell us where we can find some services, madame."

"Fine... Eateries? yer best bet will be Fat Jim's Eatery, now that's a place where ya can eat lots and fer cheap and it's GOOD fookin' food! Fish and onion chips and creamed beans on toasted bread coated in butter!" Paulin, who had just get off the carriage, cringed a bit when he heard that last part. "...b-beans on a toast? w-what sort of dish is beans on a Gods damned toast." Theodoric, one of the Brannorian fighters and Zen's poker rival, was quick to answer. "That's what happens when you stay inside a walled city for months as if the Skæglins are at the bloody gates." Luckily for the party, the Sheriff did not hear a word coming from the two adventurers. "Blacksmiths... eh, ya lot prolly lookin' for 'em types that make swords and all that nonsense ye adventurers drool about... we got one smith that makes, me husband, but he makes weapons only fer us constables, no one else. There's other smiths but they mostly make tools and horseshoes... as for Healers, the chapel is yer best best... Our Holy Lady of Gea, where we worship the big mother! unlike some of ye heathens." She said while staring at Dakarai and Korzhev. "Well there's someone other lass that heals, she's one of 'em scholarly types, knows a few things about medicine and magic but... not the hexes and bad spells like you lot... she lives in the Old Oaken Bookshop and she's named Cassandra Blackwell, fine young lady that one... if ya ever have dumb questions about Waterham, she will know what to tell ya... as fer shops, well go to the main plaza... 'bout seven blocks from here, 'tis where all the shops are... and that reminds me, next to Fat Jim's is the Sleeping Donkey, a good inn and tavern, very good mead and leppa brandy! Bad food though... ol' Belbel Bottomshire does not cook like he used to."

Alberto thanked the Sheriff with a courteous bow, which the Sheriff shrugged off as human eccentricities, he then turned around to look at the company. "Alright everyone, I am letting most of you free! Explore the town to your hearts content but do not break the law! I am clrear? Behave! I'll be heading to this... Sleeping Donkey and then I'll spend the rest of the day at... Fat Jim's... these names are as silly as the Hobs themselves..." Cécilia then turned around to look at those that she'll drag along for this investigation. "Syll, Gawain, Dakarai and Korzhev... you four have to come with me no matter what! Sentry, Kastalli and Sera, you can follow us as well if you want, your counsel would be much appreciated, another thing... Callop. it will be best if you and Faux stay with Alberto... and..." She looks into the jar. "Grunde... Since this is a murder scene... I... well, I know you don't like violence... If you want to stay with Callop... you can tell me, I trust that he will take good care of you." Alberto looks at the remaining members of the main party. "Well, looks like most of us non-spell casters will be free... Petro, Deveraux and Zen, feel free to do whatever you want lads but I'd appreciate if any of you tags along, so I don't have to watch over Callop and Faux alone. I don't want to bore the poor child with my old man talk, heh!"

"Will ya lot shut up already? Come on! Flies must be having a fookin' feast with the bodies now!" shouted the Sheriff as she called for Cécilia and those that will follow her. "Hm... alright, one last thing! park the carriages in front of the inn, get everything settled lads!" shouted Alberto before walking up to Callop and offering his hand to the young boy. "Ready to go friend?" Now that the situation had finally cleared, the army of Hob constables were slowly but surely walking away, allowing the party to look at the city ahead of them and its Griffin riders roaming the skies. Waterham sure is something else.


In another part of town, by the Western Wall that faces the ocean known as the Sea of Swords, a duo of Hob constables patrol the walls while having small talk about their previous day at work. "I tell ya, soddin' bastard was more drunk than... than a drunk!" said one of the Hobs while checking his spear. "Nice one there, Jake... but yeah, I believe yeh... that Freddo Bottomshire speaks a lot of bloody nonsense, what a kunt." Suddenly, they hear a sound coming from somewhere in the wall. "What was that?" asked one of the Hobs. (Roll 1d10 = 8 | Success sneak attempt) "No idea... hm... might have been a squirrel?" said the other Hob in response. (Roll 1d20 = 1 | Critical Failure) Suddenly, something grabs one of the Hob constables by the head and crushes it with ease, the other Hob quickly turns around only to see a Chort, a demon! standing right in front of him. "W-what in the Hel?! Y-ya bloody monster!" he shouted as he tried to attack the Chort, but the demon evaded each attack. As the Hob kept trying to stab the demon with his spear as the group of cultists accompanying the Chort climbed over the walls, it seems that they have used hooks and ropes to jump over it. "B-Bloody Hel!" Shouted the Hob again, realizing that he had failed his duties to Waterham, but he was going to try his hardest to protect his city. He then charged at a cultist and said cultist laughed it off as he tried to kill the constable with his wicked sword, only to be stabbed right in the groin with the constables spear, shouting in pain, the cultist fell backwards, right over the wall and hitting the coastal ground bellow. Tired of this stupid diversion, the Chort kicked the Hob as hard as it could, sending the poor little man over the wall as well. A cultist lady then approached the Chort, her bulging eyes revealing her sickening excitement. "Hehe... good kick, lord daemonic... now, we must find her... the Ddraig... and the Runeseeker."

 

[Develius]

Murderers the sheriff claimed; couples being slain by those that practiced in the dark arts. It was a weird chain of deaths, one Dakarai believed to be the work of an underground mage cult of some sort. Which one in particular he wasn't sure, nor did he know of any names of any that he knew hadn't been disbanded over the years or those of origins outside of his localities. He was rather out of touch in that department.

As they walked through the bustling streets of Waterham, the sheriff identified the different local service providers that would be of use to the company:

"...As for Healers, the chapel is yer best best... Our Holy Lady of Gea, where we worship the big mother! unlike some of ye heathens."

The Sobekan gave a rather offended glance at the snarky hob's remark. Dakarai was already beginning to dislike the hobs the more he stood among them. He was perfectly fine with people of opposing religions not believing in Her Grace - so long as they respected his and in return he would respect theirs - but being called a "heathen" and having an opposing god rubbed in his face was just plain insulting. He looked over to Korzhev, seeing how he took the indirect insult.

"If she'd said that on Sobekan grounds," he whispered towards him in a low voice, while looking over to make sure the sheriff wasn't listening behind her back, "I doubt she'd leave the church of Her Grace with her head still planted on her shoulders. I know some of the more... overzealous councilmen, that would make sure of that."

Of course, that's just how these people were around here, but nonetheless they were making him more uncomfortable with the locals. Once their brief tour of the local district ended, Alberto proceeded to let most of the expedition go, while Cécilia called and offered others to gather around.

"Syll, Gawain, Dakarai and Korzhev... you four have to come with me no matter what!"

Dakarai nodded affirmatively at Cécilia for the others not in the direct vicinity to come forth. He'd then walk alongside the other mages and clerics, ready to solve this bizarre murder mystery.

 

[Ace Cream]

Zen

Murder??!!! Among all things they could ask, Zen never expected them to ask for help for a murder case, and apparently it's murder by magic? Zen was intrigued. His background aside, he took quite some interest in those theatre plays about infiltration and murder mystery, and his past experience might provide something useful for the investigation. The tengu approached Cecilia and bowed.

"Leader Cecilia! Please let me join the investigation. I might not be a magic caster, but I have... interest in murder case. I will try to be useful!" Zen pleaded.

EdwardDewey98

 

[Roda the Red]

So apparently the issue was a few murders done with magic, sounds like something simple enough Syllannan could help with at least a little bit. And so the hob crowd finally moved aside to let the company enter. Visiting the city was pretty comforting as much as the locals could be of a sharp tongue, as a nice meal was at the top of Syll's priority. Or at least that's what he would like to think, yet:

"Syll, Gawain, Dakarai and Korzhev... you four have to come with me no matter what!

"I understand, i don't know how much i may be of use for this, but i'll do what i can to get us a proper stay in the city"

 

[joshuadim]

Murders? To Gsera this was quite a bit of a shock to her, for even if she now believed the Hobs to be crude and rude people she couldn't sit idly by and let someone hurt people like that. To her, she couldn't comprehend what would drive someone to take someone else's life in such a manner. It simply did not register with her how selfish and cruel people could be in order to do such abhorrent acts.

Sera, you can follow us as well if you want, your counsel would be much appreciated

"Yes! I'll help however I can... so that nobody else gets hurt here." she stated confidently and began to stride alongside Cécilia towards wherever it was they were heading. She hoped she could be of any help in this endeavor, to not only prove her own worth but also to see if she couldn't changed the Hobs' minds about her and the others.

 

[FloweryMuffin]

It seemed that the little Hobs were dealing with an interesting problem. Murders that they suspected were done by dark magic practitioners. If said practitioners were spending their time murdering Hobs of all things, Korzhev decided they must be of some rather terrible character. For all of their rudeness, he would gladly help them solve their case.

Well, he would actually have to reconsider just how gladly he would help them, upon hearing that particular insult about his faith. One of his eyes twitched as he spoke,

“Now, now, we at least don’t dishonour our good patron by doing something so rude as to insult others’ beliefs, my little friend. Why it would be indeed a great day the day you’d follow him instead of your Holy Lady, but I ain’t about to bring it around sooner.”

He then looked up at Dakarai, trying to hold back a chuckle at his comment. “My, ever faithful to the Lady of choice! I must say, some of my more disagreeable brothers too, would have skewered them for this offence, were they here, or the Hobs over there. Well, they might just be alike, our Gods of choice, and would that be a shame if we insulted them, won’t you say?”

Then aloud for the Hob who had insulted the two of them, he’d told Dakarai, while loosely hooking his free hand around his leg, his usual cheer having returned. “Now then, my fellow unconventional worshipper! We do have some murderers to attend to! Those dark mages won’t just appear if we snap our fingers now, would they? Let us be on our way, madam Cécilia!”

 

[Dmaster]

It was certainly an interesting conundrum that they had been presented with, though for Gawain he was hoping that the issue these people would need their assistance with would be more interesting. He didn't study magic to be a sleuthing investigator for something so trivial as murder cases, but at the same time he knew better than to openly voice his concerns. The expedition was reliant on this stop in the city for supplies and orienting themselves deeper into other territories, so any hospitality that he could earn from these rude little people would end up being crucial.

"Hrm... a varied amount of spells. Seemingly from random schools." Gawain comments with a few taps of his bony chin. "That would mean it is either the work of a single mage with an access to a variety of spells or a small cabal of them. This is the best I can speculate without actually looking over the scenes."

His hands started to move behind his back where he held them by his wrists, starting to step behind the sheriff. The fact that she had a penchant for routinely beating her own head in was making several things clear to the wizard, but once again he found himself biting a tongue he did not have. At the very least she was in a hurry to show them what was going on, that way they could investigate quickly and be done with this whole affair.

"The other detail that strikes me is how the couples are interracial, which could narrow the culprit down to someone who feels rather strongly about such relationships." Likely an exceptionally xenophobic Hob, but Gawain was choosing his words quite carefully at this point. Not that he was terribly intimidated by these rambunctious little folk, rather he wanted to avoid the headaches their prolonged shouting in their nonsensical accents would bring him.

 

[Fauxs]

After feeling uncomfortable because of their long journey, Callop felt a little better as they walked around Waterham, although the people were causing a different headache, mostly irritation. As the group met with the sheriff, Callop struggled to understand her accent, it was indeed difficult, but the boy was able to understand it to an extent. Fauxs was quite absent while they were conversing with the sheriff, the creature's eyes were mostly fixed on the small people of Waterham which felt a bit bizarre to him, but not exactly surprised that such people exist.

As Cecilia instructed, Callop and Fauxs decided to stick with Alberto. Moving closer to the man, the boy gently tugged the side of his clothing to signal that he was near and has acknowledge Cecilia's request. Alberto then offered his hand to the boy in which he just looked at, "Don't worry, I'm not eight, I won't run off anywhere." the boy joked. After a few seconds, the boy began to speak up, "Why can't I join this mission?" The boy asked Alberto, "I'm sure I can help the group in some way."

 

[Auda]

"...W-What in the fookin' Hel is that?!"

Grunde popped its head outside the jar to get a better look at the sheriff, unbothered by her reaction as the slime is quite used to shocked gasps and looks of filled with ridicule. The slime would give the sheriff its usual wave but the previous insults directed on its companions still irked Grunde so instead, it settled with a smile hoping it appeared genuine. Since it was the first time Grunde looked outside the jar since entering the city, it took its time to actually look at its surroundings without the burden of glass. Waterham was definitely an odd place, but every city is different and charming in their own way. Some more than others but still. Despite the multiple warnings the slime heard, personally experiencing the place was different. Insults were thrown left and right almost like a greeting and instead of whispers, the hobs were upfront and quite vocal with their hostility which the slime... preferred. Occasionally a shadow will pass over them making the slime look up to see the Griffin Riders that left the slime stare with awe. Flying was already in the slime's bucket list but flying while riding a magnificent creature is on a whole other level. Grunde mentally put 'ride a griffin' in its bucket list for the future.

But the next words that came out of the sheriff's mouth dampened the mood. Murder that already claimed seven victims with the culprit on the run, certainly not the welcome Grunde was expecting.

"Grunde... Since this is a murder scene... I... well, I know you don't like violence... If you want to stay with Callop... you can tell me, I trust that he will take good care of you."

While the prospect of staying far away from danger appealed to the Grunde's survival instincts, the thought of doing nothing didn't sit right with it. The slime then slowly left the jar, making a puddle of ooze on the ground before once again forming its 'body' though it's currently the size of a small dog. "I'm going. I can help." Grunde started, the offer almost comical as it came from such a small being but nonetheless the slime's tone is firm.

 

[Woffy]

"Eh... Listen 'ere luv..." said the portly bartender with her lovely old woman voice. "I am not like me kin 'round here, I appreciate ye foreigners and yer wyrd cultures and all that... but that being said, I am afraid I can't hire yeh luv." The young Abasi pouted his lower lip as he looked down at the portly little Hob, why wouldn't she hire him? He was always called beautiful by men and women of other cultures that saw him at the Emeer's court!

"B-but just think of all the clients that i could bring ! every inn i have been in has had an increase of clients" Said the young man in a hopeful voice as his ears and tail twiched a bit showing some distress

"Oh... don't give me that look luv..." said the portly old lady Hob as she offered him another cookie. "I think you are a beautiful young lad and I am sure you get a lot o' attention out there! but... us Hobs ain't exactly into..." Abasi noticed that the kind old lady was looking at his revealing, but traditional Entarushian dancing attire. "...We are into modesty above all, I am sure that if you danced for me clients, they'd shank ya in the ankles!"

Abasi sighed defeated "Then i guess i better just find another town where i can , otherwise ill end up a street cat with no coin"

It was apparent that the old woman was right, while Abasi was getting looks of attraction from the non-Hob patrons at the Inn's tavern, most Hobs were paying him not mind, or giving him mocking looks. It was still painful for the kind ol' Hob to just refuse the hopeless half-Basteti. "Oh honey... here, have another cookie!" She said while putting another chocolate-chip cookie on the cat boys hand. Defeated, he was about to leave the tavern until a Hob, a constable of Waterham, walked into the tavern. "Bloody Hel, Ms. Bottomshire." He shouted while walking past Abasi. "...big ol' party of wyrdos arrived to town!" said the constable before taking a seat on a stool by the taverns counter. "Really now? Tell me more hun." said the old lady as she offered the man a mug of mead. "Aye, apparently a big expedition full of strange folk... there was a bloody bullman! and a bird man... and a frog man!" The old lady then looked at Abasi and seemed to ponder something for a moment. "Hmm... maybe they can help you, luv?"

"Maybe they can take me to the next town , or they are in need of some entertainment for their party" Said abasi while biting into the tasty cookie and letting out a pleased noise at the taste

The inn's door opened and out walked a half-Basteti boy biting into a cookie with a pensative look in his face "A traveling band of weirdos they said..." he says to himself while looking around "Might as well start looking in the town square" he added as he started walking into the square , hopefully these people would have a job for him , either as an entretainer or well...he fought he way up to this town , he might as well continue doing so for a while until he is certain They wont be comming after him. Shaking his head and with a grin he finished his cookie and set off.

 

[Breadman]

"I'm not going to be of much use here." Sentry said to Alberto "I'll just get in the way. So I'll pay the inn a visit instead." She waved bye for now without waiting for a response. Choosing to instead look around the nearby surroundings. The Hobbs were well...Hobbs. A few threw some uncreative insult her way, but most just had an odd look for her. All too easy to just shut out. Eventually she reached the inn.

"Well look 'ere! Another one of them walked in! Bloody fokin 'ells! What did I do to deserve this?" That didn't take long. Sentry raised an eyebrow and looked around to see if someone else from the company was here "Talkin to you, ya big slag!"

"You also said another." She replied while getting closer "Wondered who else was here."

"Some tin wearin goldilocks like you, but with a weaker jaw." Sentry touched her chin for a second, barely registering her movement. "Wearing some piss and shit bucket on his head. Came along with his fat friend, cousin or lover or something. I danae know how your 'umans do, nor care to know!"

"Charming." She responded with a neutral tone "Where are they?"

"Back'o the inn. Away from decent folk. Go there if ya want, but I better not hear anything 'unny! Hear me?"

"Very loud and very clear." She gave him a slight smile before turning her attention to the back of the inn. The size difference between her and the Hobbs also translated to the building design and architecture as the inn was noticeably smaller than the usual sizes she's used to. Indeed in the back of the inn, she found a pair of humans. One, sitting down and eating, though he looked like he had been eating a lot his entire life. Across the table was another one, a head taller and with broader shoulders. He was busy writing something down in what looked to be a book. Maybe he was a scholar or poet? She walked closer, which caused him to lift his gaze from his writing and to her.

"Oh, hello there!" He greeted her with a smile "And here I thought this town had only an ugly side to it." He looked at the other one "Pot, stop stuffing you face. You're in the presence of a lady."

"Ahhhh, let the him enjoy his food." She brushed the attempt at chivalry aside. "I'm not exactly one of those other women you're used to."

"But what is a knight if he doesn't treat every lady he meets with the same respect he would show a noble woman?" He asked while pointing at himself with the pen. "Just another fool with money and armor. Plenty of those around."

"Then should I bow slightly and lift a skirt just a little bit to meet those same standards?" She wondered at his logic. "That seems common among you civilized folk."

"Wouldn't think of forcing you to do such a thing. If you wish to curtsy, you may." He motioned for her to sit down and join them "But I can tell you're not that sort just by looking at you." She raised an eyebrow and wondered what he meant. "The sword on your back is exceptional quality and you clearly have the arms to wield and care for it. A very rare sight among even the men of nobility if I'm honest." He looked to 'Pot' once again "Pottrey, fetch us something to drink. Drop the coin on the counter after the drinks this time." She didn't get a good look before, but it was obvious that he was younger than the other one. Probably barely of age. "Wine for us and for you my lady?"

"I'll just have the ale." The boy went to get the drinks while they continued to talk. "So what brings a knight and his...servant(?) to this place."

"Pottrey is my squire. His father is my uncle and he wanted a knight to continue the family line, so he entrusted me to train him and set him on the Path. I don't think we actually introduced ourselves." he put away the book "My name is Waylond. Some call me the swift, but titles are hardly important in times like these. And you?"

"Sentry."

"Odd name. Is it a translation?"

"It is a long story." She heard insults coming from the direction of the bar. Looks like Pottrey was getting their drinks. "One I'd happily tell you, but I'll buy the next round."

"By all means. Don't spare my ears" He leaned leaned forward with both elbows on the table to hear her better. Sentry in turn got comfortable and started talking once again about her past and since the knight was so inclined, she wouldn't spare him the details.

 

[EdwardDewey98]

"Leader Cecilia! Please let me join the investigation. I might not be a magic caster, but I have... interest in murder case. I will try to be useful!"

As the company began splitting, Zen approached Cécilia as she was currently watching at Grunde emerging out of their jar. After hearing the Tengu's proposal, Cécilia didn't want to reject the Tengu, not only because it'd be rude but also because it's clear he wanted to help. "Hmm... w-well, I suppose we could use the help." She then petted the Tengu's head. "...Feel free to tag along then, Zen!"

"I understand, i don't know how much i may be of use for this, but i'll do what i can to get us a proper stay in the city"

"You'll do fine Syll... although..." Cécilia looked at the Sheriff as she walked away from the party, using the opportunity, the scholar approached the inexperienced wizard with a slightly more serious face. "...but don't think that your attempts at lying didn't go unnoticed, oh great Syllannan." Despite the seriousness in her face, Syll could tell that she didn't mean to be intimidating, it felt like she was teasing him more than anything, still, he had to be careful next time he lets his mouth run wild, he might have to actually use his charisma people next time. Which isn't that good. Besides the vocal Zen and the silly Syllannan, there were others who agreed to come with the scholar, the lovely lady Sera wanted to help and prever any other murders, a respectable notion. Dakarai and Korzhev were also coming, although it seems like Dakarai was a bit offended by the Sheriffs words. Then, she heard a small splashing sound on the ground and then realized that Grunde had fully emerged from their jar and were "standing" on the ground beneath her.

"I'm going. I can help."

"Are you sure?" she asked while kneeling in front of her companion. "...Hmm, I know that tone... that's determined Grunde! Very well, we will go." She said before offering her companion a vial of mana. "Sorry that I haven't given you many of these my friend, I'll try to restock the Mana potions later today..." Cécilia looked away, thinking about something before speaking again with a question in mind. "Which reminds me, miss Sheriff... any good alchemy stores in town?" The Sheriff turned around to look at Cécilia, giving her a nod. "Aye... a family of Magi live here, the lad ye lookin' fer is Yeshua ben Abbas, he owns a shop called "Gifts of the First Kingdom", 'tis on the main plaza, can't miss it"

As Gawain approached the group that was going to follow Cécilia, he overheard their conversation and took note of this family of Magi living in the city. "Magi, she said?" he could hear inside his head. "I doubt a poor potion seller might know something about this... being you so desperately want to understand and study... but maybe they can guide you to someone that might know more." Edgar was right, the Magi were an Ethnicity of humans and most were not into the occult and mystical, but it's worth asking them later. With that in mind, the sorcerer had a few thoughts he wanted to share with the party about this case, and most listened attentively to him, even the Sheriff.

Hrm... a varied amount of spells. Seemingly from random schools. That would mean it is either the work of a single mage with an access to a variety of spells or a small cabal of them. This is the best I can speculate without actually looking over the scenes."

The Sheriff raised her brow while looking up at the "Bonehead" standing in front of her, the undead sorcerer could see the woman's snarled expression. "Hmph... well, can't be a bloody cabal! I am the eyes in 'tis town and I ain' lettin' 'em magic types roam about." Before the sorcerer could ask why, she was quick to respond. "Grand Mayor's orders, all folk with sum' connection to magic need to be monitored!" What a strange and archaic rule, it reminded the old sorcerer of the days where King Brannor III was forcing the practitioners of magic to register under the Kingdoms new law on magic. But that one felt more like a tax law on magicians than something that would actively stop sorcerers. Regardless of those old memories, Gawain had another comment on the nature of the murders, one that actually caught the attention of the Sheriff.

"The other detail that strikes me is how the couples are interracial, which could narrow the culprit down to someone who feels rather strongly about such relationships."

Her snarling expression eased up a bit as she looked away, appearing to be a bit more pensive. "Aye... must be, but bloody Hel... us Hobs might not like tall folk that much, but killin'em? because they love a Hob?" She crossed her arms, sighing deeply. "Disturbing stuff really... I feel like the bloody towns fool by not realizin' sooner that these folks were all in mixed couples... bloody Hel." With another deep sigh, the Sheriff shaked herself back into action, looking at the gathered group and calling them forth. "Alright you lot, follow me and dun' think anything funny, eh!" With the Sheriff ready to go, Cécilia looked at her group of Spellcasters (and birdman assassin) and quickly talked with them as she walked behind the Sheriff. "You heard the madame! Sera, Korzhev, Dakarai, Zen, Syllannan and Grunde. You guys follow me, if anyone else wants to join us feel free to tag along!" She shouted before waking into the crowded street alongside her companions.


Meanwhile, Alberto helped the others in the company organize themselves further, he watched as Sentry walked away, saying that she'll be of no use for this investigation. Before he could say anything, Sentry was long gone into the streets of Waterham. He then turned his attention back on Callop, the young boy had a good question in his mind. One that Alberto wasn't sure how to answer.

"Why can't I join this mission? I'm sure I can help the group in some way."

"You know what kid? I don't doubt that you can help. No idea why mistress Cécilia didn't want to take you... I guess because she doesn't want you to become traumatized by a murder scene... despite the fact you fought against several bandits three days ago!" he let out a slight chuckle at the last part. "It's just her being silly, but that doesn't mean that you will be sitting about doing nothing... I think we can do something!" he said while walking away with the child and his canine companion following him. "...what if we train you while we rest at the Inn, hm?" he said before turning around and patting Callops head. "You show a lot of potential in the field of magic! but remember, physical prowess is still important for a spellcaster, I think you could become a Hedge Knight! What do you think? Before you answer, lets get to the Inn and eat something." He then looked at Fauxs, giving the Cú-Sídhe a smile. "You can join us in the meal too, Fauxs."


While the company continued to separate, Devereaux walked through the streets of Waterham with some interest. Despite the fact that the Hobs were strange little people, their structures and buildings were rather awe inspiring.

As he continued walking through the street, he noticed someone else. Someone that wasn't a Hob but a human, or what looked like a human, he knew very well what this person was because he could feel it. Devy and this strangers eyes meet for a moment, before the well dressed stranger walks away. Without thinking twice, he went after the man, but to no avail, it'd be hard to find him even if most of the population of this city was a foot and a half shorter than him.

He didn't know who that man was, but he recognized that stare, it reminded him of his mother to some extent, and that thought sent shivers down his spine. He had to be careful now.

The Jester continued his way towards the Inn, now a bit more attentive to his urban surrounding, but as he reached the main plaza where most businesses were, he could see a new and strange sight, it was yet another person that looked human but had cat ears, similar to Devy's friend, Kastalli. This interesting character was dressed rather scantly, but Devy had heard of these dancing uniforms before, as they are a staple of exotic dancers from distant lands to the east.

While the Jester gawked at the sight of the Half-Basteti. Abasi was looking around the Plaza for these extravagant adventurers mentioned by the Hob constable, and that's when he noticed the petite man with a rather cute body frame dressed as a Jester or Harlequin who was also carrying a bow over his chest as a quiver full of arrows hanging right above his rear. Quite extravagant indeed.


While walking through the city, Kastalli could smell different new aromas of new foods. She noticed how Hob wives and husbands rested plates full of foods such as pies and cakes, but she could also smell garlic and onion coming from some of the houses around her. As she entered the plaza, he noticed something rather interesting and rather... concerning to some extent, it was a group of humans talking with a Hob merchant, they appeared to be traders, and she knew where from.

These men are Skæglin traders. While most people across Helmos and Dúkũ associate Skægs with raiders and sea pirates, many of them are traders, specially those from the Thanedom of Holmstæin, her homeland. "I am telling you... this is good fur, sir... mink!" said the travelling merchant while gently stroking the mink fur on his hands, the Hob merchant had to admit that it was good quality fur. "Hmph... fine, a box o' 'em furs is... hundred? two hundred?" asked the Hob while feeling the fur on his hand. "Ah yes, 'tis two hundred and fifty silver coins, sir!"

As the merchant began paying for the box of furs, the trader looked about and notice Kastalli. (Skæglin Language) "Huh... Är det du? Kastalli Y'drendötter?" ("Is that you? Kastalli daughter of Y'dren?") he asked outloud as he slowly walked up to cat woman. "Av gudarna! Du har inte förändrats lite!" (by the Gods! you haven't changed a bit!) Kastalli didn't actually recognize this man at all, but knowing her father, this man might be acquainted with him. "Jag är kapten Jager den pålitliga. Nöje att träffa dig personligen... Jag hörde att din far är lag talare nu!" (I am Captain Jager the reliable. Pleasure to finally meet you. I heard your father is the Lawspeaker now.) Kastalli gave the merchant a confused look for a moment, her father? the Lawspeaker of Holmstæin?