The Gilded Gates (Entrance Thread)

[shadow]

Shadow walks in to the new town form a long nights journey not even phased by the walk he pats his charger "its alright weve reached our destonation" he runs his hands across his scar that are stinging his eyes dart around like a madman but they soon rest on the sign for the information desk.

He walks up to the desk resting one hand on it. He asks the nearest person that he thinks would know his languge "Excuse me do you know where a mercenary can get some food and shelter i have traveled a far form my home looking for a new place to start and have reached my destnation at this place" He stands and waits patiently

[Azric]

5th of Samheen

A balding human sat behind the desk, the feeble rays of the dawn glinting on his freshly polished armor. "Good morning," he said, "welcome to Roque D'Ancourt. The guard sized the stranger up, eyes fixing with concern on the fighters scarred face. "You'll need to sign the register to gain admittance to the city, please. Make an x if you can't write."

The guard pursed his lips thoughtfully at Shadow's inquiry regarding lodging. "A room's hard to come by these days," he said, his tone almost apologetic. "With all the farm folk taking refuge in the city the inns are practically bursting at the seams. You might try the Dog's Home or the Goose and Gander--or if money's a problem, there's always the Freely Poured. Is there anything else I can help you with?"

OOC: Welcome to Tazlure, Shadow. We encourage our players to write their posts in past tense as a style convention, so instead of writing:

Shadow walks in to the new town form a long nights journey not even phased by the walk he pats his charger "its alright weve reached our destonation" he runs his hands across his scar that are stinging his eyes dart around like a madman but they soon rest on the sign for the information desk

you would write:

Shadow walked into the new town form a long nights journey, not even phased by the walk. He patted his charger; "Its alright we've reached our destination," He ran his hands across his scars that were stinging; his eyes darted around like a madman but they soon came to rest on the sign for the information desk.

Any questions you might have about this, don't hesitate to ask in the OOC threads. I hope you enjoy your time with us.

[shadow]

OOC: thank you my good elf i didnt think about that last night that and im not used to third person

IC
Shadow looked at the man with a menacing look "You think i might have money problems and yes there is another thing you can help me with" he took his sword out and smiled not motioning in a threating way to the man "Do you think there is a place that might need use of my sword or my stregenth?" His ice blue eyes cut this way and that and made sure no one was looking their way "Perferably a paying job and some with promising action" He placed the sword back in its sheath and tightened the cloak that he had on

He looked down at the register grabbing a quill he signs the register and smiled sarcastically at the man "These scars are old ones ones form a childhood that should of been better but wasn't because of my drunk father" He looked at the man with his ice blue eyes ligthening up "Dont worry my good man they maybe grotesque but I dont feel them any more

[Azric]

As soon as Shadow drew his blade two more guards stepped out from behind the gate, clad in the same polished armor, with broadswords drawn. They made no further move towards the newcomer, but their eyes followed his every move and it was clear they were prepared to strike at any sign of trouble.

The balding guard behind the desk acknowledged his colleagues support with a sidelong glance and a curt nod. "Well there's always the patrols," he said to Shadow, the tone of his voice carried tension, but no fear. "What with the orcs about the city militia is pressing all comers into service, sweeping the woods for signs of an invasion. Lost a lot of young men that way, we have, but the pay is pretty good."

Once Shadow's weapon was sheathed again, the guards stood aside to let him pass. But their eyes continued to follow him carefully.

[shadow]

"Orcs?" Shadow says with a matter of factly type voice, "Easy prey for a man like me" He said with confidence "Maybe I will if you point me in the deriction of the place to sign up", He said with a smile creasing his lips and the scar on his upper lip his silver hair blowing in the wind he sniffed the air, "What is that foul stench?"

He withdrew his sword "It couldnt be what I think it is"

[Azric]

The balding guard took a tentative sniff of the air, but his befuddled expression suggested that he smelled nothing unusual. "Errr....through the gates and make a left. The garrison house is down the road a ways, but you can't miss it. Um, enjoy your stay."

[shadow]

He sheathed his sword back and smiled "keeping your skills in check" he said with a hint of cockiness on his words he looked at the graud and bowed "Thank you my good man"

He followed his directions and dissappeared

[Karontaela (Kara) Quel'es]

Karontaela Quel'essa circled the city gates, appraising them carefully. I could probably climb them, she thought, but they have no reason not to let me in. Best to just play it straight. Nervously she checked her stiletto and throwing daggers, making sure they weren't visible under her tunic. Confident that they couldn't be seen unless she was searched closely, she strutted gracefully toward the gates.

Seeing the tall, dark half-elven girl, most people wouldn't have suspected her of anything. She was young, pretty, and looked sweet, even innocent. Her big green eyes, framed by her dark hair, gave no indication of guilt or remorse. It wasn't long ago that she'd ran from home, and since then she'd lived by picking pockets and taking food out of people's homes. However, Karontaela wanted more than just enough to live off of. She thought to find herself a thieves'guild to train in, and to live off the fat of the nobility in Roque d'Ancourt for a while. If other options presented themselves, she thought, she wasn't tied to anyone.

Putting all this from her mind, Karontaela smiled innocently at the guardsmen. "Good day, sirs. I've never been to such a big city before, and I'm afraid I might get lost. Can you direct me to a good inn where I might stay while I find work?"[/i]

[Azric]

The guard behind the desk was a balding human with kindly eyes; he gave Kara a welcoming smile as she approached. "Good day to you, lass. Welcome to Roque D'Ancourt; please sign the register to gain admittance."

The guard pushed a large, leatherbound book towards Kara, indicating a quill for her use. "It must have been a hard road for you, dear. Its unusual to see such a young girl wandering about alone, especially these days."

[Karontaela (Kara) Quel'es]

Kara pulled the leatherbound book in and wrote her full name, Karontaela Quel'essa. Briefly she considered using an alias, but at this point she saw no reason to do so.

"Thank you, sir. Don't worry about me though, I was fine. I stayed out of sight on the road, though I did get scared a few times by some close calls." She pushed the book back over to him, looking at his kindly face warmly. Almost like the father I never had, she though ruefully. "Can you recommend a good inn where I can stay for a few days? It would be nice to get a bath and to sleep in a bed."

[Azric]

The balding guard flushed. "Of course, dear. Rooms are hard to come by, I'm afraid. Roque is full to the brim with desperate folk in these desperate times. You might try the Dog's Home or the Goose and Gander, or if you have the coin the Feathered Dragon might put you up. There's always the Freely Poured, too, but," his expression turned to one of cautious dissaproval; "I don't think you'll want to associate with that folk. Not unless you've no other choice."

He glanced down at her signature and his smile returned. "Is there anything else, miss.....Quel'essa?"

[Karontaela (Kara) Quel'es]

The half-elven girl shook her head, smiling at the guard. "No, I think that will take care of me. And it's just Kara, except to my family. High elven names are a mouthful, aren't they?"

Karontaela strutted out, assured that the guard suspected nothing. The Freely Poured, she thought to herself. Maybe there I can find some way into a guild. Or perhaps I should scout the city out first.

[Frank Fountainwater]

Slowly the cart trundled over the road. Frank Foutainwater sat on the bench and watched Bonnie’s behind move from left to right. He and his father were on their way to Rogue D’Ancourt. Frank was planning to land a job as a cook’s apprentice. He was nervous and excited at the same time. For the first time in his young halfling life he would be away from his home for a night. Even stronger. He wouldn’t be coming home for quite a while. He was moving out. Learning a trade. A profession that would bring in enough money to live on his own. Hopefully.

His father was quiet. He was probably worried if Frank would survive in the big city. A halfling had already a disadvantage because of the limited length and strength, but Frank was also still a puppy. Easy to influence. Frank nudged him with an elbow and smiled at his father. He smiled weakly back and urged Bonnie forward with a flick of the reigns.

Slowly but surely they closed the distance to the city. The cart passed the first outward guards, who solemnly watched them pass by. After a short while they reached the beautifully made gate. Immediately after their entrance, they creakily stopped at the table where two guards sat.

[Frank Fountainwater]

The guards were amiably chatting to each other and they hadn’t noticed the cart that had stopped nearby. Frank watched them for a while, but when no one looked up, he curled his hand into a fist and coughed in it. “Ahem!” He hoped that this would attract some attention.

The guards behind the table talked on and Frank thought: Some protection. A band of Orcs could have passed by and they never would have noticed. This calls for more drastic measures. Frank climbed down from his seat and walked to the end of the cart. He opened his chest and extracted two lids from his largest pans.

Holding them carefully, he went to the table. He got down on his knees and was perfectly hidden from sight. He took a deep breath and then rammed the two lids together. CLANG, CLANG, CLANG!! There! That would wake the living dead, he thought satisfied.

[Shaeliana]

OOC: LOL.. creative approach to getting attention! This forum has an OOC thread for you to introduce your character and let the moderators know what it is you are looking for. Did you post there? That helps give them a heads up that a new player is coming. I am not sure who has gate duty.. this gate has not been used all summer, but will find out and give them a heads up.

A small note of explanation: we are a moderated game which means you control your character - what they think, say, feel and do. Your moderator controls everything else including your horse and all the people around you. As a player, it isn't within your realm of control to create NPCs, whether that is your father or the guards.

Now, in your posts you didn't have them doing anything really bad, so the mods may just let them stand. However, for future posts your GM will let you know what the guards are doing.

I look forward to seeing your character blossom as a cook.

[Frank Fountainwater]

OOC: Hi Shae, don’t worry. I know the rules. All NPC actions will be mod’s territory from now. Besides, they didn’t DO or SAY anything, right?
I didn’t realize a post in the OOC thread was needed, though. I will amend that asap.

Just stay with me and watch the best cook of Tazlure grow and mature. Chef de Cuisine!

[Guest]

(OOC: Hey there. Sorry, looks like you caught me napping. You're the first bloke to pass through here in a while ^_^)

As Frank clanged the lids, the guard nearest him jumped, and whirled about ready to attack the offending...whatever it was. The other guard just smirked and patted the first on the back. "Ho there, friends," he said.

"What are you doing?" the other guard said unceremoniously, still frazzled.

[Frank Fountainwater]

OOC: Never mind. Just be glad that I’m just a chubby halfling and not a band of Orcs, invading the city. I won’t tell your headmod.

IC: Grinning, Frank got upright again. He brushed the dust of his knees and said: ‘Well, I wanted your attention. And now I’ve got it.’ He put the lids back in his chest again and walked over to the guards, offering his hands in a apologetic gesture.

‘Hello, I’m Frank Fountainwater. I seek entrance into this great city. My apologies for the startling manner of getting noticed. I hope you’re not holding a grudge.’ He smiled his most disarming smile. ‘Do you know a place where I can rent a room, for the time being? And I’m looking for a job. Maybe a noble family is looking for an apprentice cook?’ Frank was eager to get on. Now that he had left his home, he was anxious to begin his independent life.

[Azric]

OOC: I'm sorry you're off to such a slow start, Frank. Our gatemod is a bit swamped with RL right now.

The first guard breathed a heavy sigh of equal parts frustration and relief, while his companion chuckled.

"A cook, eh? Well," the second guard scratched his head; "most folk say the Souiveds 'ave the best chef in Roque. An' they've 'ad lotsa 'pprentices come an' go since she been working. Folk say she got some temper. You might try there, if yer brave."

"Rooms are hard to come by these days, tho," the first guard added, recovering his composure. "Town's swamped with farmer folk lookin' fer shelter behind the city walls. Might try yer luck at the Dog's Home. Or if money's tight the Freely Poured can usually spare a corner. Ye'll get what ye pay for there, though. Be careful, its a rough place."

"Anything else we can help ye with?" the second guard chimed in. He pointed Frank to a large leatherbound book and a writing quill. "Please to sign 'ere, chum, and you can be on yer way."

[Frank Fountainwater]

OOC: I don’t mind. I’m sorry to hear Ghostwriter fell in a swamp. I hope he’s better now? (Just joking.)

IC: Frank frowned at the second guard’s remarks. He was never his chum. They never played hide and seek in their youths. Anyway, no need to get angry now. The guards had offered him a lot information.

Maybe he could land a job at the Souiveds. That would be something. He thought about the guard’s warning for a moment. She had a temper, he said. Well, it probably won’t be THAT bad. People say lots of things. And everybody makes it a bit more interesting to hear. It was probably greatly exaggerated. ‘What is her name? The Souived’s chef, I mean?’ he asked.

And he had a choice in lodgings. He pondered for a moment. The Dog’s Home didn’t sound too inviting. He wasn’t used to sleeping in a kennel, but The Freely Poured didn’t seem like fun either. The guard warned that it was a rough place. And Frank was usually a target for people who like to harass other people, because of his size and weight. No, he would try his luck at The Dog’s Home, thank you very much.

He took the quill, so he could write his name in the large book. He dipped the point in the ink pot, but when he pulled it out, he accidentally overturned the pot. It fell over and ink spilled all over the table. ‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ he cried out with an upset face. He clapped his hands over his mouth, what caused the quill to smear ink on his cheek.

[Azric]

The second guard scratched his head and shrugged. "Tikka? Tetra? Someone told me once but I don't rightly recall. Began with a T, though....I think. Mebbe t'was an L, now that I thinks about it."

When Frank spilled the ink the first guard cried out in alarm, yanking the register off the desk to prevent its pages being covered in the spreading inkstain. "The One have mercy!" he despaired, pushing the book into Franks face. "Just sign it and go, please!"

The second guard, somewhat more patient, began mopping up the ink with an old rag. "Now now, Phineas," he scolded gently. "T'was an accident. Don't be so hard on the lad."

[Alec D'Marchaut]

The thought had stayed in the back of Alec's head throughout the journey. It grew larger and larger with each passing step, and when the golden gates finally gleamed before him it burst free from his lips.

"I am free!"

Alec started. It was such an odd thought. He had never been in any serious discomfort at his old home. He was never mistreated. He never felt any compulsion to stay. Yet there was something liberating about his decision to leave his father and pursue his own destiny. It empowered him, this defiance, in a way that brought him an almost euphoric pleasure. As he pondered these thoughts, Alec du Marchaut trudged his final steps up to the city entrance.

The young man's blond hair tumbled into his frame of vision and he brushed it aside. Before him stood the legendary Gilded Gates of Roque D'Ancourt. He paused, filling his lungs with the smell of hope that seemed to come from everything and everyone around him. Alec straightened his sword-belt and heaved his bag over his shoulder. His blue eyes caught sight of the guardsmen and their book of names, and he turned and walked deliberately toward them; His father had taken him to Roque before and he knew the protocol.

"My name is Alec du Marchaut, I come to Roque to find employ in the city guard."

[Selune]

Selune admired the gates of the city as she approached them. The flowery decorations of the gate signified to her a sophistication that was, in her opinion, somewhat lacking in her village. Granted, they painted their houses and huts whenever they could afford it, but where she came from, practicality overcame aesthetics always. <p>
She stretched a little, somewhat sore from the long journey. Hopefully she could find a place to settle down and get a meal in her belly as soon as possible. She was tired and dirty, and she didn't like being tired and dirty. "It's a new life for you, Selune," she said to herself. "We'll see if you can make something out of yourself in the city, and make Mom and Dad proud. We'll show everyone back in the village that Selune's really more than just a kid trying to make do." She realized she was talking to herself, and stopped. This wouldn't do, she thought. It would be a dead giveaway that she was unsophisticated and crude--not that her clothes wouldn't give it away at first glance. She looked at herself, taking in her dusty and smelly appearance, and longed for a nice clean room and a bath.<p>
The sign over the desk at the gates read Information, she noticed. "I guess I have to register," she said to herself quietly, then kicked herself inwardly again for talking to herself. She needed to get a cat as soon as possible, for she missed her Sashi sorely. She noticed someone else approaching the gate, and moved to line up behind him.

[Frank Fountainwater]

When the guard shoved the large book in Frank’s face, he involuntarily stepped backwards a little. “I’m s-s-sorry,” he stuttered. He took the book and quickly scribbled his name on the first blank page he saw. He returned the book and asked: “Where can I find The Dog’s Home? I think I’m going to stay there for the moment.”

Then he heard a voice speak. “My name is Alec du Marchaut, I come to Roque to find employ in the city guard.” Startled, Frank looked at the newcomer. “Excuse me, sir, but I was here first. Please be so kind to wait until it’s your turn.” He smiled a friendly smile. He didn’t want to argue with such a big man with a sword in his belt. The woman next in line also received a friendly nod. Then he turned his attention towards the guards again. “As I said, could you give me directions to The Dog’s Home?”

[Azric]

The first guard set the register back on the table and took the quill back from Frank, scribbling his own initials next to the halfling's signature. "Right then," he said, his composure gradually returning. "The Dog's Home is just past this gate. Make a right an' follow the road down, 'bout a block or two. There's a sign out front, ye can't miss it. Welcome to Roque D'Ancourt."

Meanwhile, the second guard turned his attention to Alec and Selune, tucking the inkstained rag into his polished breastplate. "Fine day to you both," he said with a friendly nod. "Welcome to Roque D'Ancourt. Please to sign the register before you enter; miss, if you don't mind statin' yer name and business."

"City Guard, eh?" the first guard chimed in. "You're in the right line o'work these days, friend. You'll find the garrison house down the road on the left. S'a great stone building with the city colours flyin'. Ask for Cap'n Vindet. He can help ye."