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Part 1: Announcements
A wandering bard travels through the Entertainment District of Sundren city. He is a jovial fellow, wide-brimmed hat on his long hair, angled playfully. He sets down the large, square rucksack he'd been lugging about, and begins preparing for his performance.
"Hear ye, hear ye!" he begins, his voice appropriately dramatic. Immediately, several heads turn toward the man. He motions dramatically with his arm across the forming crowd:
"I have just traveled from the city of Westgate, as swift as my horse would carry me! As fast as three horses would carry me, ladies and gentlemen! I can tell that you are all fortunate enough to wear the fanciest clothes, the nicest silks and the warmest fabrics! Then you will, no doubt, be shocked and disturbed by the grave news I bring!"
He hollers over the ever-swelling crowd, his eyes gleaming. Carefully, he let the murmuring carry on for a moment, waiting - ah, there it was, the first call for him to continue.
"Yes! Tonight, I will be speaking in this very location! Tell your friends and family to come watch, to come listen, and to take note. And, my dear ladies and gentlemen! Tell your merchants t---" he pauses as a voice yells from the crowd.
"All of them, good sir! Tell all the merchants! Perhaps their livelihoods are at stake!"
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Part 2: The News
The talented bard approached the crowd, casually letting his eyes wander over the many bodies present. His announcement had had the desired effect: dozens of interested people had gathered. All with coinpurses ready to be emptied in his hat. And if they didn't...
...he glanced to the nearby alleyway, from which a thin figure with a flat nose nodded at him. If the rewards volunteered were too little, he'd simply have to help the generosity a bit. But! On with the show.
He pushed his way through the crowds, and spoke dramatically:
"Yes, good people, yes, I am here!" he raises his hands triumphantly. Inspired, the crowd cheered. "Now, let me tell you, good citizens of this fine Valley -- do you like your silkenwear?" he hollered. The crowd cheered, with a worried undertone - brimming with excitement.
"Do you like the silks from House Ossil-Bloomington?!" he boomed over the crowd. This time, several women looked around worriedly, and a few merchants froze in their places.
"Young sir Ossil-Bloomington was found dead in his chambers! He had hung himself!" the bard hollered. "What many of you, far away from Westgate, had not heard --- was that recently the boy had been found in the arms of a common street whore!" The crowd was abuzz with excitement, and coins began dropping into his strategically-placed hat.
"But she was no mere whore!" he yelled, expecting silence to set in. And indeed, it did. "She was a succubus, sent from the Nine Hells to seduce him! And she succeeded! He was but a pawn on her chessboard! Wax in her hands! He stood no chance! So bravely, he had ventured out, to this very city, ladies and gentlemen. To this very city! But all he found here was ridicule and contempt! Twice he came, and twice was he sent off, stripped of his possessions! Stripped, ladies and gentlemen! Not even a horse to ride on!" the man encouraged the crowd.
"The second time when he returned, the young man went down into the cellars, and liberated several criminals! Including the succubus herself! When he came to, he confessed. He'd been ensorcelled, ladies and gentlemen! A compunction stronger than himself, to liberate the prisoners! Indeed! The next morn', he was found dead! He had seen no other way to restore his honor than to kill himself. The poor boy!"
The crowd gasped in shock, and more coins landed in the hat.
"Now, grief-stricken, the boy's father is rumored to have locked himself in his office. I, myself, would not be surprised if we did not see any new wares from the proud warehouses of Ossil-Bloomington!"
He finishes, and covered a quick signal to his unseen companion in the alleyway. He'd gotten enough voluntarily.
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Part 3: Allegiances
Smiling at the bag that held his earnings, the bard returned to his room in the Sundren Comfort Inn. He'd done good business today.
"Afternoon " he greeted the innkeeper as he moved past, and climbed the staircase. He whistled to himself joyfully as he approached his door. "That's strange.." he paused for a moment as he saw the letter pinned to his door, with a simple tack. He carefully undid the tack, and unfolded the letter.
"No..." he gasped, as he felt the blade pierce his lower back.
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Part 4: The Legion
Tirones Balthazar entered the tavern with a sour expression on his face. He'd been on his way to go off-duty for last few hours of the night, when a young boy had come running. Between breaths, the boy told him to go to the inn, and hurry!
And now the broad-shouldered Tirones stood eye-to-eye with a white-faced woman, pointing a shaking hand up the stairs. He shook his head, patted her on the shoulder with his mailed glove, and climbed the stairs. It was always the same with these people - introduce a corpse to their lives and they act as if they died. Why didn't they ever just offer a good report, so the culprit could be caught? Gods...
When he reached the corpse, his nose had already warned him - there's no mistaking the coppery tang of blood. Male, middle aged he noted absently, wandering about the body. Had been going back to his room - hole in the door, likely a tack.. stabbed in the back, clean job... he summarized as he did the job, attempting not to think of the wife and children this man might have had.
That's interesting... he bent down to pick up the piece of paper that had been left remarkably blood-free. He turned it over in his hand. Nothing written on either side... he frowned. That's when he saw the wrinkle. Something had been folded into it this! Quickly, he ran down with the page. Behind the innkeeper's counter he found an empty piece of paper. Laying it overtop the one he'd found, he brushed the tip of a coal along the paper.
What in the Hells is that...? Oh well. I'll put it in the report.
A wandering bard travels through the Entertainment District of Sundren city. He is a jovial fellow, wide-brimmed hat on his long hair, angled playfully. He sets down the large, square rucksack he'd been lugging about, and begins preparing for his performance.
"Hear ye, hear ye!" he begins, his voice appropriately dramatic. Immediately, several heads turn toward the man. He motions dramatically with his arm across the forming crowd:
"I have just traveled from the city of Westgate, as swift as my horse would carry me! As fast as three horses would carry me, ladies and gentlemen! I can tell that you are all fortunate enough to wear the fanciest clothes, the nicest silks and the warmest fabrics! Then you will, no doubt, be shocked and disturbed by the grave news I bring!"
He hollers over the ever-swelling crowd, his eyes gleaming. Carefully, he let the murmuring carry on for a moment, waiting - ah, there it was, the first call for him to continue.
"Yes! Tonight, I will be speaking in this very location! Tell your friends and family to come watch, to come listen, and to take note. And, my dear ladies and gentlemen! Tell your merchants t---" he pauses as a voice yells from the crowd.
"All of them, good sir! Tell all the merchants! Perhaps their livelihoods are at stake!"
-----------------
Part 2: The News
The talented bard approached the crowd, casually letting his eyes wander over the many bodies present. His announcement had had the desired effect: dozens of interested people had gathered. All with coinpurses ready to be emptied in his hat. And if they didn't...
...he glanced to the nearby alleyway, from which a thin figure with a flat nose nodded at him. If the rewards volunteered were too little, he'd simply have to help the generosity a bit. But! On with the show.
He pushed his way through the crowds, and spoke dramatically:
"Yes, good people, yes, I am here!" he raises his hands triumphantly. Inspired, the crowd cheered. "Now, let me tell you, good citizens of this fine Valley -- do you like your silkenwear?" he hollered. The crowd cheered, with a worried undertone - brimming with excitement.
"Do you like the silks from House Ossil-Bloomington?!" he boomed over the crowd. This time, several women looked around worriedly, and a few merchants froze in their places.
"Young sir Ossil-Bloomington was found dead in his chambers! He had hung himself!" the bard hollered. "What many of you, far away from Westgate, had not heard --- was that recently the boy had been found in the arms of a common street whore!" The crowd was abuzz with excitement, and coins began dropping into his strategically-placed hat.
"But she was no mere whore!" he yelled, expecting silence to set in. And indeed, it did. "She was a succubus, sent from the Nine Hells to seduce him! And she succeeded! He was but a pawn on her chessboard! Wax in her hands! He stood no chance! So bravely, he had ventured out, to this very city, ladies and gentlemen. To this very city! But all he found here was ridicule and contempt! Twice he came, and twice was he sent off, stripped of his possessions! Stripped, ladies and gentlemen! Not even a horse to ride on!" the man encouraged the crowd.
"The second time when he returned, the young man went down into the cellars, and liberated several criminals! Including the succubus herself! When he came to, he confessed. He'd been ensorcelled, ladies and gentlemen! A compunction stronger than himself, to liberate the prisoners! Indeed! The next morn', he was found dead! He had seen no other way to restore his honor than to kill himself. The poor boy!"
The crowd gasped in shock, and more coins landed in the hat.
"Now, grief-stricken, the boy's father is rumored to have locked himself in his office. I, myself, would not be surprised if we did not see any new wares from the proud warehouses of Ossil-Bloomington!"
He finishes, and covered a quick signal to his unseen companion in the alleyway. He'd gotten enough voluntarily.
----------------------
Part 3: Allegiances
Smiling at the bag that held his earnings, the bard returned to his room in the Sundren Comfort Inn. He'd done good business today.
"Afternoon " he greeted the innkeeper as he moved past, and climbed the staircase. He whistled to himself joyfully as he approached his door. "That's strange.." he paused for a moment as he saw the letter pinned to his door, with a simple tack. He carefully undid the tack, and unfolded the letter.
"No..." he gasped, as he felt the blade pierce his lower back.
----------------------
Part 4: The Legion
Tirones Balthazar entered the tavern with a sour expression on his face. He'd been on his way to go off-duty for last few hours of the night, when a young boy had come running. Between breaths, the boy told him to go to the inn, and hurry!
And now the broad-shouldered Tirones stood eye-to-eye with a white-faced woman, pointing a shaking hand up the stairs. He shook his head, patted her on the shoulder with his mailed glove, and climbed the stairs. It was always the same with these people - introduce a corpse to their lives and they act as if they died. Why didn't they ever just offer a good report, so the culprit could be caught? Gods...
When he reached the corpse, his nose had already warned him - there's no mistaking the coppery tang of blood. Male, middle aged he noted absently, wandering about the body. Had been going back to his room - hole in the door, likely a tack.. stabbed in the back, clean job... he summarized as he did the job, attempting not to think of the wife and children this man might have had.
That's interesting... he bent down to pick up the piece of paper that had been left remarkably blood-free. He turned it over in his hand. Nothing written on either side... he frowned. That's when he saw the wrinkle. Something had been folded into it this! Quickly, he ran down with the page. Behind the innkeeper's counter he found an empty piece of paper. Laying it overtop the one he'd found, he brushed the tip of a coal along the paper.
What in the Hells is that...? Oh well. I'll put it in the report.