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Stranger and stranger

Short Summary: Gavving meets a traveler from the other side of the Misty Mountains.
Date (real-life): 2011-03-21
Scene Location: The Market Square
Date (in-game): June 24 of 3052
Time of Day: Nighttime
Weather: A stormy summer's night

Players: Gavving

The Market Square 

You have arrived in the two-hundred eighty feet by two-hundred eighty feet open-air market known as the Market Square. Four buildings, brighter in colour than most of the buildings in town, border the market and are filled with shops of every kind, along with the taverns and other places people like to meet. Hawkers walk about with carts peddling goods, and entertainers draw a few crowds when the weather is decent. People from the outlying areas, and the occasional groups of Dwarves or Elves, may be seen amongst the locals.   The very center of the Market itself is a fenced-off hole spanning ninety feet in circumference. A few steps descending through the hole leads to the Market Pool, an area directly beneath the town. A few pulley contraptions bordering the area might suggest that it is used as a means of transporting goods directly from rafts into the market square.Obvious exits:
 West leads to Center of Bowman Street.
 East leads to Center of Avenue of Tales.
 North leads to Center of Firespark Lane.
 South leads to Center of Merchant's Way.
 Market Pool leads to The Market Pool.
The Town Hall, Tavern, Gamer's Den, Armour Shoppe, and Weapon Shoppe

A midsummer storm has the Dale-lands in its grip, Heavy, slanting rain batters at the decking, and from the Market Pool come unpleasant slopping and gurgling sounds, accompanied by the thud of wood on wood or the creak of taut rope as a barge tugs at its moorings. The rain-curtain is so heavy that it's hard to tell whether the dark is storm-induced or whether out there, somewhere beyond the jagged spines of the Misty Mountains, the sun has indeed set.

What might brought the swarthy foreigner calling himself 'Brunni' out in this weather, who can say? It might well be that he is regretting it, for his head is down and the sodden grey cloak wrapped about him is held firmly shut. As a particularly stubborn blast of wind sends stinging raindrops lashing at his face he halts, muttering something guttural in a language that is not Common but that, by the scowl on his features, is probably a curse and ducks into the nearest doorway. He shakes himself, doglike, before looking round.

A roll of thunder loud enough to shake a person's soul breaks the intermittent sound of rain hitting the puddles and the canopys the merchant stores surrounding the Marketplace. the rain cloud heighten the darkness of the late hour as the lights in the surrounding houses slowly flicker off, leaving only the hissing torches to provide a dim light so the guards do not trip on their feet. No motion of human or animal is seen or heard.
With the weather, none is to be expected. Breaking the silence is to figures walking up from the Market Pool drenched in the summer storm. Both men try their best to stave off the water and the chill from the breeze using leather coverings. The rain has seem to damped the moods of the gentlemean as the soft sound of rain is broken by the talking of the two men, now heading back towards the Market Square. "I swear by the gods.." said the taller of the two men.. "That is the last time I take a meeting with them at this time of night." The smaller, and fatter, of the two men hurries in front of the tall man and walks backward to face him "But Master Gavving, think of the profit..and not to mention the look on his face when he finds out.."
A flash of lightening reveals the two wet gentleman as Gavving Tull and his partner Falstaff. "My dear Falstaff.." reposes Gavving as he pauses to gaze upward, letting the rain pour down his face.."Profit aside, this meeting could certainly wait until the storm is over.." Gavving rushes ahead and turns back towards his compatriot. "Or at least until I've had a decent drink and some food." Falstaff shrugs as he hurries to catch up to Gavving, whose pace has quickened as the rain seems to be beginning to fall harder. As both men reach the Market Square, Falstaff still tries to smooth things over with his employer "My apologies Master Gavving but with all that has happened, I thought we couldn't pass this up.." Gavving pauses and concedes "You are right. Rule 9..Opportunity plus instinct equals profit.go home and get some sleep. We have lots of work to do." Falstaff smiles and bows and he scurries off into the night. Gavving pauses as he readies himself to enter his shop when a dark figure catches his eye. Curiosity gets the better of the merchants as he cautiously makes his way over to doorway when the figure lurks.
Trying to get as better look, Gavving calls out "If you are looking for Master Callos, you are at least a half day early. He should be back in the morning so no need to catch your death out here." Gavving, trying to catch a glimpse of the figure in the torchlight, slowly moves his left hand to his side as he awaits a response.

 The wet figure that is Brev (or Brunni?) snorts and shakes his head. "Looking for somewhere other than out there, more like." His tone is gently ironic, the Common singsong and the accent clearly not local. "This'd be your building, yes? How about letting a fellow get his breath back for a few minutes before I head out into that," he mutters another word that is definitely not Common.
As he notes the merchant's left hand moving he adds, warningly, "I'm /not/ looking for trouble." Whatever he might be doing with his own hands beneath the shelter of that damp grey cloak remains unseen.

Putting his hands up, in a show of non-aggression, Gavving reveals a wineskin. Taking the plug out, Gavving takes a quick drink and then extends his left hand to offer it to the stranger. A loud cough is heard coming from the merchants as he struggles to speak. "Here, this will help fight the chill..." Gavving goes into a coughing fit, but it soon passes and the merchant regains his composure. "It's Dragon's Breath Ale. Courtesy of a friend of mine in the Iron Hills. It packs a punch, but it does warm you up." Gavving hands the wineskin to the stranger as he walks up to the door of a fellow merchant.
"Now.." says the merchant as he feels under a few of the logs holding up the shop. "Master Callos usually keeps a spare key hidden somewhere.." A quick, yet faint sound of metal is heard as Gavving reveals a small brass key. "Here.." as he holds up the key and proceeds to unlock the door as offers the stranger passage inward, but quick to reassure him "Master Callos will not mind considering the circumstances, besides he owes me anyway."

The swarthy stranger stares blankly at the wineskin as it is thrust toward him, but reaches out a hand to take it, revealing that beneath the wet wool of the cloak he's wearing a tough leather jerkin. Can't be too comfortable in the heat of summer - still, it takes all sorts to make a world. "Thanks," he offers bluntly, sniffing at the flask's contents and then tilting it up towards his lips. The fact that he does not cough suggests that none of said liquid has actually slid down his throat.
One dark brow arches up as Gavving reveals the key. "Does Master Callos know that his secrets are so easily penetrated?" he enquires lightly, one corner of his mouth twitching a little. "Not that I object to a little shelter. Name's Brunni Marjasson, a carpenter." He thrusts his wine-skin-holding hand forward as though expecting Gavving to shake it. "And you are?"

Gavving tosses his arms forward as if to say not to worry as he grabs a candle and lights it from the torches outside the doorway. "Master Callos changes the location every couple of days, but he'll usually let me know in case there is something that needs to be taken care of. He's a trustworthy old man, but a little naive at times." Gavving gets a pseudo shock as he bows and introduces himself "I am Gavving Tull. I own the Tull Import Company further down the Square."
A thought pops into Gavving head as the name Brunni strikes a chord with the merchant. A sly smile quickly appears and he goes to shake the visitor's hand "Master Brunni, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. A mutual friend of ours mentioned that I should find you..." Gavving pauses as he contemplates a few moments before continuing. "But that discussion shall have to wait until a more appropriate time.."
The sly grin grows a bit more as a devilish look almost makes an appearance, but quickly disappears "But the way.." Gavving interjects,"I've noticed by your accents that you are not from this area.." Gavving takes the wineskin back and takes another drink. "If I had to say.." He pauses to let the liquid do its magic as he thinks. After a short bit, he continues "I'd have to say you are from the other side of the Misties yes?

 'Master Brunni' nods politely at the introduction; if that sudden smile bothers him he shows no sign of it. "Really?" he repeats. "I think I've heard the name Tull ... no, wait, it was Hull. Fellow who keeps the boatshed down yonder. Helped him replace a broken door in a hurry when his usual man was off work with the runs." For a brief instant something akin to Gavving's smile flickers at the corner of his own mouth, and is gone.
The final question is greeted with an abrupt nod. "I'd say you're right," the foreigner concurs. "Couple of friends and I made the crossing before winter. Looks like we'll be here a while longer." Alas, he seems disinclined to be more informative. "Seems you've got a good ear for other folk's speech, Master Tull," he comments in turn. "Would you be interested in passing on any of the local lingo they use round here? Been hoping to find someone who can teach it, that bard fellow was too busy." He lets his hand drop back to his side thoughtfully as though patting a pocket.

Gavving smiles and shakes his head as the joke of 'Hull' is one he has heard quite often. Upon hearing of the crossing of the visitor, Gavving asks "Such a long way to come. I hope it has been worth the journey. I myself have ventured on your side of the Misties when I was a younger lad. I picked up on some of the local languages, but I must admit I am still very raw when it comes to speaking them."
Seeing the rain letting up, Gavving motions for the duo to depart before the watch comes by. To Brunni's inquiry about teaching the local language, Gavving responds "I can certainly help you get a good meal tonight, but anything more than that would require some time to teach." Closing and locking the door, Gavving hides the key again and turns to face the visitor. "There is the Flagon.." Gavving points out the local tavern "They serve some decent food and drink, but you can at least get a good bed to sleep in. Just mention that I recommended it and to put it on my bill." Gavving's voice goes to a whisper as to not announce their location to the night watchmen. "For some local lingo, use the words <Eothrik> Hello and <Eothrik> goodbye. That should help with some of the locals. For tonight, ask for the <Eothrik> Special's special. It's a meat and mead dish reserved for some of the locals and it is quite tasty."
The sly smile return as Gavving leans in closer and says, "And call the bartender <Eothrik> Barkeep.." he loves it and do not let him tell you otherwise." Gavving repeats the words until Brunni gets the hang of the pronunciation. Seeing the lamplight of the nightwatchmen in the distance, Gavving motions for the visitor to make his way to the Flagon.

Brev considers the original hint. "I might be willing to pass a little of my folk's speech on. Least you've got the looks for it, half the town here'd be dead before they set foot where I came from." He snorts at that. The words of Eothrik are carefully repeated, though he says nothing of the offer of a room at the Flagon. "Figure a man like yourself could make the time to teach, given the right incentive," he comments drily, likewise keeping his voice low. "A trade for a trade? Or if that fails, there's always coin."
At the final gesture he steps out of the doorway and into the shadows - but not toward the Flagon. "I'd best be on my way before it starts lashing again. Thank you for your hospitality, Master Tull. Or your neighbour's hospitality." This time the brief twist of a grin is more of a smirk. "<Eothrik>Goodbye."> Nodding at the merchant, he slips on his way.

Date added: 2011-03-23 22:38:07    Hits: 32
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