The Gilded Gates ~ entrance thread
Moderator: Mods
-
Sabastian Telvanni
"I apologize for not introducing myself. Travel causes great wear on one's spirit but does not justify my lack of manners. My name is Sabastian Telvanni. I have returned here to Roque in order to be trained as a paladin at the One's monastery. Come, I shall escort you to the Dog's Home Inn. It is a comfortable inn that I believe will satisfy your needs and provide a safe place to rest after your journey. If you are not opposed, then perhaps you could tell me a little about yourself on the way. It is rare that one so fair as yourself is found with anything less than a small herd of hopefuls in tow. " "This way milady," he said smiling as he hung her pack on his shoulder and offered her his arm.
-
Guest
))-
Guest
The Captain was in a fiery rage. Yellow-bellied bellyfish, that was what his men were! Obnoxious, rotten sea-tar with no concept of honour! The One's burning jelly-fish take 'em all!
Captain ban Toch, a considerable man in all senses, strode fuming towards the gates. Fuming as the most infernal storm! He was a tall man, the old salt, tall and heavy. His flaming beard could take the breath of anyone, and complemented by the cutlass and the dagger in his belt, the copper earrings in his right ear, the peacock feather and the spyglass in his mighty fist, the diverse tattoos, and lastly the damned expression of grim rage on his face, it probably did. For he was a veteran captain with no ship. A man who had ruled over fortunes but who know only ruled over the filthy clothes he wore. Somebody was going to pay for all this, and most likely it would be the first someone he came face to face with!
Besides, the Captain flaming well needed a beer or three.
Or a dozen. Something that didn't particularly improve his mood.
The blasted blow-fishes had stolen his ship. Oh, so the quest he had set upon as Captain had not been too successful immediately, but...What dishonourable scabs! The old shellback ban Toch shook his fist violently before him. Grimly he smiled at the damned revenge he would have. None commandeered good ol' Lassie IV without learning the fury of Captain ban Toch sooner or later. None!
As the tarpaulin emerged at the gates of Roque d'Ancourt, he didn't notice much of the gates themselves, nor the people around it. A condemning stare set straight ahead would surely have most people avoid to meet the big sailor's eyes.
The Captain was in a fiery rage. And he needed beer.
Captain ban Toch, a considerable man in all senses, strode fuming towards the gates. Fuming as the most infernal storm! He was a tall man, the old salt, tall and heavy. His flaming beard could take the breath of anyone, and complemented by the cutlass and the dagger in his belt, the copper earrings in his right ear, the peacock feather and the spyglass in his mighty fist, the diverse tattoos, and lastly the damned expression of grim rage on his face, it probably did. For he was a veteran captain with no ship. A man who had ruled over fortunes but who know only ruled over the filthy clothes he wore. Somebody was going to pay for all this, and most likely it would be the first someone he came face to face with!
Besides, the Captain flaming well needed a beer or three.
Or a dozen. Something that didn't particularly improve his mood.
The blasted blow-fishes had stolen his ship. Oh, so the quest he had set upon as Captain had not been too successful immediately, but...What dishonourable scabs! The old shellback ban Toch shook his fist violently before him. Grimly he smiled at the damned revenge he would have. None commandeered good ol' Lassie IV without learning the fury of Captain ban Toch sooner or later. None!
As the tarpaulin emerged at the gates of Roque d'Ancourt, he didn't notice much of the gates themselves, nor the people around it. A condemning stare set straight ahead would surely have most people avoid to meet the big sailor's eyes.
The Captain was in a fiery rage. And he needed beer.
-
Guest
Captain ban Toch frowned. Not only had his ship just been commandeered, but of course someone had to inquire upon his business just now too. Now that he had none! The Captain grumbled. Then again...
The large sailor fixed his stare at the guardsman speaking, and, stopping in his tracks, positioned himself to tower over the critter. A short silence followed. "This is the Captain ban Toch (please do address me Captain, will you?)," he proclaimed with pathos. "And my business is in the finding of ships...and in finding beer!" There wasn't even the slightest hint of mirth to the old salt's voice. "I ye be sure, I am no damned refugee."
It never occurred to ban Toch he could appear one, though. After all, all his belongings were the clothes he wore and a number of random specimens such as his spyglass and the peacock feather. But this was a situation the Captain was unfamiliar with, and besides, his throat could probably at this point have downed the Seven Seas in one go had they only consisted in beer.
Oh yes, the shellback was in a fiery rage; it might be unleashed any moment.
The large sailor fixed his stare at the guardsman speaking, and, stopping in his tracks, positioned himself to tower over the critter. A short silence followed. "This is the Captain ban Toch (please do address me Captain, will you?)," he proclaimed with pathos. "And my business is in the finding of ships...and in finding beer!" There wasn't even the slightest hint of mirth to the old salt's voice. "I ye be sure, I am no damned refugee."
It never occurred to ban Toch he could appear one, though. After all, all his belongings were the clothes he wore and a number of random specimens such as his spyglass and the peacock feather. But this was a situation the Captain was unfamiliar with, and besides, his throat could probably at this point have downed the Seven Seas in one go had they only consisted in beer.
Oh yes, the shellback was in a fiery rage; it might be unleashed any moment.
-
Guest
Glaring, Captain ban Toch made his way forward, ignoring the guards. There had better be beer in this town. ban Toch had probably been here sometime before, but entering town from the gates and not through port, he certainly didn't recognize it.
Whatever. As long is there was something to quench his thirst with here. Sharks and pearls, there'd better be!
Whatever. As long is there was something to quench his thirst with here. Sharks and pearls, there'd better be!
-
Dion Merdoc
Dion only briefly glanced the ornate gates with the vines covering them, and since he wasn't one to take his time appreciating such small things, he simply sneered a little and continued on.
He wore regular traveler's clothing, with his waterproof boots, wool breeches for warmth, and his leather doublet over a cream white tunic. His face was mostly covered by his cloak, which he had pulled up in the early morning chill to keep an extra bit of warmth about him. Now, he figured, the heat was enough for him to pull it down. Shifting his small sack from arm to arm, he pulled down his hood as he advanced up past the gates.
<p>
He only briefly glanced the Information desk, but continued on past, sighing with some small agitation. He couldn't read the god damned sign! Or the larger text on it, anyway. He wondered if this was mainly a city inhabited by elves, and played with the idea of turning right back around and finding some less "elf-infested" place. He noted that the Elvish text was by far more decorative, but what really got him the most was that it was larger, with the less ornate human text below it. It grated on his nerves. Go ahead and make the humans feel inferior, you bastards. You do such a great job of it.
<p>
Hiding his irritation, he continued on past, flashing a brief smile at the guards and the clerk, not wanting or wishing to be stopped for any reason. As far as he knew, he wasn't wanted anywhere... yet. And he didn't look suspicious, so they had no reason to stop him, did they?
He wore regular traveler's clothing, with his waterproof boots, wool breeches for warmth, and his leather doublet over a cream white tunic. His face was mostly covered by his cloak, which he had pulled up in the early morning chill to keep an extra bit of warmth about him. Now, he figured, the heat was enough for him to pull it down. Shifting his small sack from arm to arm, he pulled down his hood as he advanced up past the gates.
<p>
He only briefly glanced the Information desk, but continued on past, sighing with some small agitation. He couldn't read the god damned sign! Or the larger text on it, anyway. He wondered if this was mainly a city inhabited by elves, and played with the idea of turning right back around and finding some less "elf-infested" place. He noted that the Elvish text was by far more decorative, but what really got him the most was that it was larger, with the less ornate human text below it. It grated on his nerves. Go ahead and make the humans feel inferior, you bastards. You do such a great job of it.
<p>
Hiding his irritation, he continued on past, flashing a brief smile at the guards and the clerk, not wanting or wishing to be stopped for any reason. As far as he knew, he wasn't wanted anywhere... yet. And he didn't look suspicious, so they had no reason to stop him, did they?
-
Guest
The clerk made a qiuck gesture and the two guards, one tall and slim and the other shorter and stouter, blocked Dion's way.
Firmly but politely, the taller guard said:
"Hold on, sir. With the number of refugees here awaiting processing, we can't make exceptions. Please go to the census table."
In the background, the miscellany that was the crowd was milling restlessly.
"Get your hands off my goat."
"YOUR goat? Why you sneaking..."
Another guard stuck his head out of the gatehouse.
"Leave off there...there's enough disturbance. Another word and you see the gaols."
Firmly but politely, the taller guard said:
"Hold on, sir. With the number of refugees here awaiting processing, we can't make exceptions. Please go to the census table."
In the background, the miscellany that was the crowd was milling restlessly.
"Get your hands off my goat."
"YOUR goat? Why you sneaking..."
Another guard stuck his head out of the gatehouse.
"Leave off there...there's enough disturbance. Another word and you see the gaols."
Last edited by Guest on Fri Mar 18, 2005 6:42 pm, edited 1 time in total.
-
Dion Merdoc
Dion gave the man a nasty glare as he blocked his path. He licked his lips and shifted his sack, wanting to just shove on past... but knew that for all intents of purposes, that was not a good idea. Defeated, he shrugged, and turned around, heading mindlessly for something that looked like a census table.
<p>
He did happen to notice that just within view of the gates, there were QUITE a few people that appeared to be beggars, more than he had expected for such a prosperous town. He did remember hearing about something going on in the King's Court... but what in the world could have possibly happened? Since he had been wandering around, he hadn't exactly had time to sit down with the old men in the cafes and chat about news and politics. In fact, he had tended to avoid that whole messy thing completely. He'd had no need for politics. Perhaps, however, he thought that vamping up on such things was a good idea, if he were to be taking up some form of residence here. He didn't want to seem like an ignorant piece of offal.
<p>
Finally able to spot what appeared to be the "census table", Dion made his way over. He stood in a small crowd, working his way a little closer to the table, and when he was in noticeable distance from those sitting at it, he looked down and smiled his most amiable, sugar coated smile. That even appeared bitter.
<p>
"I was told I have to come here before I am let in. Mind helping me out?"
<p>
He did happen to notice that just within view of the gates, there were QUITE a few people that appeared to be beggars, more than he had expected for such a prosperous town. He did remember hearing about something going on in the King's Court... but what in the world could have possibly happened? Since he had been wandering around, he hadn't exactly had time to sit down with the old men in the cafes and chat about news and politics. In fact, he had tended to avoid that whole messy thing completely. He'd had no need for politics. Perhaps, however, he thought that vamping up on such things was a good idea, if he were to be taking up some form of residence here. He didn't want to seem like an ignorant piece of offal.
<p>
Finally able to spot what appeared to be the "census table", Dion made his way over. He stood in a small crowd, working his way a little closer to the table, and when he was in noticeable distance from those sitting at it, he looked down and smiled his most amiable, sugar coated smile. That even appeared bitter.
<p>
"I was told I have to come here before I am let in. Mind helping me out?"
-
Guest
-
Dion Merdoc
Dion flashed a quick, toothy smile.
<p>
"Of course. Can't be too careful nowadays anyway." he said casually, trying to think of exactly WHY he was here. Why indeed? He couldn't outright say exactly why, and simply saying that he was here because he was just travelling from place to place didn't seem like it would cut it for a reason either. It was the half-truth, in fact, but he just knew somehow that it wouldn't be an acceptable reason.
<p>
Well, never any harm in twisting the truth a bit, is there?
<p>
"My name is Dion Merdoc... I'm actually sort of a wanderer, and I decided this might be a good place to stop. You see, I have family here, and they might be able to help me out and get me a job. I just need to get in contact with them first, and I can't do that without getting in... I'd very much like to settle down here for good, and raise a family." he smiled his toothy grin again, glancing casually down at the old man and again shifting his pack from shoulder to shoulder.
<p>
He hoped it didn't sound too corny, but again, it was the half truth, making it half more believable. He felt a pang of regret at saying his real name, but what did it matter, anyway? As long as he didn't get caught doing anything wrong, it wouldn't be problem, would it?
<p>
"Of course. Can't be too careful nowadays anyway." he said casually, trying to think of exactly WHY he was here. Why indeed? He couldn't outright say exactly why, and simply saying that he was here because he was just travelling from place to place didn't seem like it would cut it for a reason either. It was the half-truth, in fact, but he just knew somehow that it wouldn't be an acceptable reason.
<p>
Well, never any harm in twisting the truth a bit, is there?
<p>
"My name is Dion Merdoc... I'm actually sort of a wanderer, and I decided this might be a good place to stop. You see, I have family here, and they might be able to help me out and get me a job. I just need to get in contact with them first, and I can't do that without getting in... I'd very much like to settle down here for good, and raise a family." he smiled his toothy grin again, glancing casually down at the old man and again shifting his pack from shoulder to shoulder.
<p>
He hoped it didn't sound too corny, but again, it was the half truth, making it half more believable. He felt a pang of regret at saying his real name, but what did it matter, anyway? As long as he didn't get caught doing anything wrong, it wouldn't be problem, would it?
-
Guest
The face of the census clerk visibly brightened.
"Prase the One, we might be able to get done quickly."
He set down Dion's name and wrote a quick physical description.
"Fine. If you would give me the names and the location of your parents within the City, we can process you through the gates. You don't look like you have been displaced by the fighting in King's Court."
"Prase the One, we might be able to get done quickly."
He set down Dion's name and wrote a quick physical description.
"Fine. If you would give me the names and the location of your parents within the City, we can process you through the gates. You don't look like you have been displaced by the fighting in King's Court."
-
Dion Merdoc
"Well, that is just the thing, sir..." Dion sighed, adding a bit of dramatic flare to his voice, and leaned forward, placing one hand on the table to support himself. "Since I have been out on my own for so long, I don't even know where they are within the city. And my parents are dead, sir. Mother died of fever, you see. She lived in Citadel. But the relative I heard was last here was her sister Flora... she was married off and that happened while I was away so I can't say her new surname, but her maiden name is Barachel. She would live in the business district, or close to it, because I recall that her husband was a blacksmith."
Why was all of this necessary, he wondered? If the man knew he hadn't been displaced by the fighting in the King's Court (and he hadn't, he wasn't even really aware of it until now, in fact), than what else did he need to know? He was so tired, and needed a warm bed and a pint of ale, or mead... or whatever he could find that was cheap enough to get him slightly inebriated. And a good meal of maybe some meat stew and warm bread. That sounded delicious. He had been living off of dried meat and biscuits in between towns, and his stomach cried for some real nourishment...
Why was all of this necessary, he wondered? If the man knew he hadn't been displaced by the fighting in the King's Court (and he hadn't, he wasn't even really aware of it until now, in fact), than what else did he need to know? He was so tired, and needed a warm bed and a pint of ale, or mead... or whatever he could find that was cheap enough to get him slightly inebriated. And a good meal of maybe some meat stew and warm bread. That sounded delicious. He had been living off of dried meat and biscuits in between towns, and his stomach cried for some real nourishment...
-
Guest
"A smithy? Well, lad, far be it from the rulers of Roque to keep you from your only living relative. Welcome."
The clerk dashed off another form, and handed the paper to Dion.
"Here is your city pass, carry it with you when you walk abroad in the city. A good meal would await you at the Freely Poured, the Cliff Inn, or the Dog's Home."
"Enter the city, Dion Merdoc."
OOC: Have fun in Tazlure.
The clerk dashed off another form, and handed the paper to Dion.
"Here is your city pass, carry it with you when you walk abroad in the city. A good meal would await you at the Freely Poured, the Cliff Inn, or the Dog's Home."
"Enter the city, Dion Merdoc."
OOC: Have fun in Tazlure.
-
Dion Merdoc
Dion took up the paper and gave his thanks as he shoved it into his pocket.
He strolled casually through the gate into the city, again sneering at that damn Elvish on the information desk's sign. He hated elves!!
Ah, but the hate was nothing compared to his hunger. And the riches of the city awaited him.
He strolled casually through the gate into the city, again sneering at that damn Elvish on the information desk's sign. He hated elves!!
Ah, but the hate was nothing compared to his hunger. And the riches of the city awaited him.
-
Aesri Jasim
Aesri had never travelled so much in his life, having never seen lands outside of Amun Rah. He felt exhausted, yet the excitement of exploration kept him moving on. The tiring pain in his muscles could not have made more than another day or two and luckily they wouldn't have to, as the view of the gates came into sight. The gentle giant smiled as he walked towards the guards, in their shiny armor, and nodded his head politely. He walked up towards the two men at the desk, towering over them like a mountain.
The friendly voice seemed almost a stark contrast to his appearance, rough from the long travels. "Good day. My name is Aesri Jasim from Amun Rah." The thick accent would have been enough to tell where he was from, but the man wanted to make a good impression. "I come to learn about your city."
The friendly voice seemed almost a stark contrast to his appearance, rough from the long travels. "Good day. My name is Aesri Jasim from Amun Rah." The thick accent would have been enough to tell where he was from, but the man wanted to make a good impression. "I come to learn about your city."
-
Guest
The old veteran bureaucrat looked up...and up...and up. No concern about losing this one in a crowd. He wrote the name and physical description on the form in a kind of daze.
"By the One," he said to himself, "these foreigners are more intimidating every day."
Aloud,he said: "A historian, then. You're the second through the gate this week. If ye seek the history of the city, ye should stop at the Light of One Monastery, which was here when Roque was a fishing village. Have you arranged for lodging yet? As you can see, the city is crowding some."
He waved his hand at the refugee crowd, who looked at Aesri with that same bemused expression. Some of the bickering actually dropped off.
"By the One," he said to himself, "these foreigners are more intimidating every day."
Aloud,he said: "A historian, then. You're the second through the gate this week. If ye seek the history of the city, ye should stop at the Light of One Monastery, which was here when Roque was a fishing village. Have you arranged for lodging yet? As you can see, the city is crowding some."
He waved his hand at the refugee crowd, who looked at Aesri with that same bemused expression. Some of the bickering actually dropped off.
-
Aesri Jasim
Aesri was not entirely certain would the guard meant, but he smiled politely. He spoke in a gentle, pleasant voice, thick with accent and broken Common. "Light of One Monastery? Temple?" He then looked towards the town and the onlookers. "No place to stay. Is there inn?"
Aesri walked past the guard slightly, so that others could move forward. He seemed unaware of everyone staring at him. The giant could not take his eyes off the city before. Roque....Never have my eyes seen such a sight.
Aesri walked past the guard slightly, so that others could move forward. He seemed unaware of everyone staring at him. The giant could not take his eyes off the city before. Roque....Never have my eyes seen such a sight.
-
Guest
The census clerk had seen that look before...Roque was quite a sight.
He took a smaller slip of cheap paper and wrote. He handed the slip, along with his city pass, to Aesri. It would be easier to find the inns if he wrote the names down.
"There are three inns to choose from. The Freely Poured, the Cliff Inn, and the Dog's Home. Any of the three would suit you. I wish you luck and the blessing of the One on your studies."
He looked at the form again.
"Welcome, Aesri Jasim to Roque d'Ancort."
OOC: Welcome to Tazlure...have fun!
He took a smaller slip of cheap paper and wrote. He handed the slip, along with his city pass, to Aesri. It would be easier to find the inns if he wrote the names down.
"There are three inns to choose from. The Freely Poured, the Cliff Inn, and the Dog's Home. Any of the three would suit you. I wish you luck and the blessing of the One on your studies."
He looked at the form again.
"Welcome, Aesri Jasim to Roque d'Ancort."
OOC: Welcome to Tazlure...have fun!
Last edited by Guest on Wed Mar 30, 2005 8:12 pm, edited 1 time in total.
-
Maxwell Winthrop
Well here I am.
Maxwell had not thought that walking from King's Court meant walking until his feet fairly disappeared beneath blisters, but then again, he'd been warned.
But in any case, Roque d'Ancourt is where I am and Roque d'Ancourt is where I want to be! Almost makes a man feel like singing.
Maxwell had seen the gleam of the armor on the gate guards from quite some ways off, but only now, as he approached the flowery gates of the port city where he'd been told he could find plenty of romance and intrigue, could he make out the ornate little information desk.
Hmm. Such stern-looking guards, all work and no play, and yet look at these positively prissy gates. I'm going to absolutely love it here!
"Now that!" Maxwell said out loud, as if everybody around him had been following his interior monologue the entire time, "That really does make a man want to sing!"
Maxwell reached to his back and unstrapped Figaro, the most loyal instrument any slightly-eccentric bard had ever wielded, and produced a steady bass chord that thrummed with the cat-like steps he took toward the clerk's desk.
His vocal accompaniment went a little something like this:
Your stone walls may hold back invaders
but here we're quite fine where we are.
Your bricks may stop hordes of crusaders
but here we're all safe with just guards.
For the Gods have ordained that our flowery gate
will be safe from all those who charge forward in hate.
It's not in the gold bars that it gets its power.
Whatever you do, always water the flowers!
Maxwell's jaunting step took him to the desk, where he ended his chord on a flourish and bowed.
"Maxwell Winthrop, old fellow. Just kidding about that gate, you know. It looks quite strong."
Maxwell had not thought that walking from King's Court meant walking until his feet fairly disappeared beneath blisters, but then again, he'd been warned.
But in any case, Roque d'Ancourt is where I am and Roque d'Ancourt is where I want to be! Almost makes a man feel like singing.
Maxwell had seen the gleam of the armor on the gate guards from quite some ways off, but only now, as he approached the flowery gates of the port city where he'd been told he could find plenty of romance and intrigue, could he make out the ornate little information desk.
Hmm. Such stern-looking guards, all work and no play, and yet look at these positively prissy gates. I'm going to absolutely love it here!
"Now that!" Maxwell said out loud, as if everybody around him had been following his interior monologue the entire time, "That really does make a man want to sing!"
Maxwell reached to his back and unstrapped Figaro, the most loyal instrument any slightly-eccentric bard had ever wielded, and produced a steady bass chord that thrummed with the cat-like steps he took toward the clerk's desk.
His vocal accompaniment went a little something like this:
Your stone walls may hold back invaders
but here we're quite fine where we are.
Your bricks may stop hordes of crusaders
but here we're all safe with just guards.
For the Gods have ordained that our flowery gate
will be safe from all those who charge forward in hate.
It's not in the gold bars that it gets its power.
Whatever you do, always water the flowers!
Maxwell's jaunting step took him to the desk, where he ended his chord on a flourish and bowed.
"Maxwell Winthrop, old fellow. Just kidding about that gate, you know. It looks quite strong."
-
Guest
The severity left the guards' faces somewhat as the newcomer crooned his improvisation. What a welcome change from the bleatings, moans, groans and other discords that made up the Gilded Gates Symphony of late.
The soldiers came to some attention, and even the backchatter gave way to scattered applause. Even the old bureaucrat at the desk, who thought he had heard it all, looked at the singer with approval. He started with the name and physical description.
"Thank ye, Master Maxwell. A sweet song indeed. Fear not, the architects of the gates passed on many the tide ago. He-he. Wait a flicker..."
Looking up, he asked: "Well, master singer, what business brings you to Roque? You have not the look of one of the refugees."
The soldiers came to some attention, and even the backchatter gave way to scattered applause. Even the old bureaucrat at the desk, who thought he had heard it all, looked at the singer with approval. He started with the name and physical description.
"Thank ye, Master Maxwell. A sweet song indeed. Fear not, the architects of the gates passed on many the tide ago. He-he. Wait a flicker..."
Looking up, he asked: "Well, master singer, what business brings you to Roque? You have not the look of one of the refugees."
-
Maxwell Winthrop
Maxwell went into another sweeping bow.
"My good sir, Figaro (that is my lute, you see) and I have journeyed far in search of tales of high adventure and timeless romance!"
He came up from his flourish with a bit of a sheepish grin.
"But since those don't fill one's stomach if you know what I mean, really I'm wondering, as is Figaro, if perhaps one of the high and mighty in the Upper City are looking for a spinner of tales?"
"My good sir, Figaro (that is my lute, you see) and I have journeyed far in search of tales of high adventure and timeless romance!"
He came up from his flourish with a bit of a sheepish grin.
"But since those don't fill one's stomach if you know what I mean, really I'm wondering, as is Figaro, if perhaps one of the high and mighty in the Upper City are looking for a spinner of tales?"