Vrebel rides Chekeetah to the gates of Hurm and if gained entry will seek out Acacea or Jennara or both. Once inside he'll look to help with moving bodies or supplies for now. He looks dishoveled but fairly healthy. His garb is well worn malars to those who have an eye for tailoring and dones a hood over his head.
Vrebel is stopped at the gate and cautioned from entering town do to the wide spread plague. He is warned too that entering would bind him to a possible quarantine that they believe is coming for the entire city.
((pending response from player))
He thanks the kind gate guard for letting him know about the plague and possible quarantine. He informs the gaurd that he'll accept the risk of both as he has come to help with their problem and intends on staying as long as it takes. He does ask if there are stables outside he could keep his horse and if not he'll set Chekeetah out to pasture and come inside on foot.
The guard tells Vrebel that the safer place is to put them out as the stables also have an infection rate at present.
Vrebel is allowed in when he is finished tending his animal with a final warning of potentially being trapped in city soon.
Of note because of quickness of movement, Jennara moves quickly and deftly through the city, visiting a number of Lucindite sites throughout Hurm and its immediate outskirts, apparently in search of something though also apparently with some good information about where to go specifically. These visits take place over several days as her duties and the needs of her commands and those indirectly in her care permit.
Meanwhile, elsewhere, a somewhat conspicuous halfling pays several visits to a marketplace a bit off the usual path. While still busy in its own right, the locals know the foot traffic there has been much reduced since the plague started. Of course the shops and taverns in the general area provide their own amusements as well to the one known as Acacea, and she seems more interested in eyeing things and generally interacting with and listening to the local population than actually buying anything.
Acacea certainly is conspicuous, as she makes no attempt to hide, wearing her clinking keys and chiming bells and tattooed everywhere visible from the neck down. She's come to the city with what healing abilities she has, and while they may be no match for a priest with Aeridin or Prunilla's hand on his shoulder, she reasons that in times less fraught, with illnesses less magical, they have more than once made the difference between life and death and could still be of some small use to somebody. She offers her songs as she has since arriving - healing wounds, neutralizing poisons and curing diseases from people and water, and occasionally even renewing the stamina and will of others beyond the skills of a common bard.
Her asking after the doings and well-being of vendors and shoppers is not deception but genuine - simply two birds with one stone. In a city full of afflicted to choose from that she can aid but barely, she simply chooses the location convenient to her other ends. She is drawn to their stories, most especially any that others would avoid, and distracted often from her other purpose by wishing to share a song or tale of her own to cheer them. Now and again she will make her way back to Jennara's post to check for her, but despite her intent to meet with her and aid with the others, with her sister's duties and her own growing list of Things She Could Be Doing, it is a few days before they find time to speak once more.
Jennara still looks tired and sad, but touched now with some fire.These places were attended.She holds a scrap of paper where Acacea can see and indicates a few places on the list she had made from Acacea's scribbles.The keepers were unwilling to assist.
Jennara still looks tired and sad, but touched now with some fire.
These places were attended.
She holds a scrap of paper where Acacea can see and indicates a few places on the list she had made from Acacea's scribbles.
The keepers were unwilling to assist.
Acacea's own tiredness shows itself in its own way - even more distracted eyes, jittery feet and rattling bells. Her eyebrows raise as she shifts her gaze back to Jennara from the list. How do you mean? They wouldn't share their records? They didn't have any? Or they told you to go ride a slaad and have done?
If they had not been polite, I would assume they thought I was Toranite. I think almost all of them knew what I was asking about. Even the most helpful -- she shakes her head slightly at this word -- person I spoke with would not answer any questions or verify that records even exist. They covered all three of your options, if not so directly on the last. I was told I needed to be officially associated with the Church of Lucinda or have personal, direct authorization from an authority in Spellgard.
Acacea throws up her hands dramatically and then looks heavenward, hands upraised beseechingly, and quotes
-- that very apparatus of Your desireshas ascendedbeyond the cares of mortal kithto that lofty position which demands,with Duty's stern whipcrack,the ever constant counting of fingers and toes,something somethingthe incessant composition of verse to extol them
She taps her cheek a moment as if unsure that was really quite right, and then shrugs with an eyeroll to Jennara. I tell ya, if the Fallan Gis were around they woulda been the first ones here. Alas, Aeridin. She says the word as one would say "avalanche" or a word describing the inevitability of toast falling buttered side down. Guess I'll take 'em. You never know, they could be imprisoning a ravenous void beast in there and can't tell anybody about it.
She tugs at her ear after a moment and squints upwards, then looks back and asks which of the staffed places seemed most temple-y and the best route to get there that won't have her being "held up by an armadillo". Her intent seems to be hitting only the one before going elsewhere for a time, then back to visit the rest.
Maybe I can help with the shrines route, after all this. She lapses back into not-exactly-silence again, then steals another glance at Jennara before adding lamely, I guess the transition from one life to ... well, this, has, uh, been kind of dreadful. Sorry!
In a section of Hurm somewhat off the main path, but no less populated, an eccentrically-clothed halfling with a tangle of black hair moves about a series of twisty and criss-crossing streets, passing the same locations several times in some instances. Those telling the story of this somewhat unusual sight claim the small woman could be heard sometimes uttering a colorful phrase or three upon passing the same way several times, as well as a few phrases that were definitely not in Common but whose meaning was relatively evident from the way they were uttered.
Eventually, she is seen entering a temple dedicated to Lucinda. Later, in local taverns and inns, this last fact seems a rather fitting end to all the other details of the tale being told over tankards of ale. In at least one instance, the conversation turns to other strange sightings, being billed as "completely true" and all the other pseudo-assurances that accompany tall tales being shared along with several rounds of drinks.
I'll take another one of them strong ones Morimer
Vrebel slides his empy tankerd toward the barkeep at the Pirate's Cove Tavern as he keeps a watchfull but descrete eye of the patrons. He's dropped off most of his fancy belongings at the bank including all his prized great swords, weapons and armour save a small dagger he sheaths in his right ankle. He's wearing worn out malar leathers and dones a hood so his face is slightly concealed to most unless you get close.
Hey I was wonderin'? I was lookin' fer work and don't mind movin' corpses ta burn piles and such but maybe somethin' a bit more than that. I heard theres two halflins' in town runnin' round. One with keys jinglin' from her hip and another that's a whisperin' Rofi? You got any ideas were they're at?
He taps the bar top lightly with his large rustic fingers....
"If yer not mindin' gettin' dead yerself by handlin' them plague bodies," he gets as an answer. "I'm hearin' that whisperin' one is set up in the central district. Not sure about a jingling one, but sounds like that one ain' gonna be hard to find."
"Central district alright."
He nods content to get the location of at least one of them
"Not my first choice fer jobs loadin' diseased n' plagued bodies as why I was askin but thank ye for the info on one of them halfers'"
He pounds his last ale and dumps a sizeable amount of coin (300 trues) on the bar front for his bill and the bartender's tip hoping to get some extra information if it comes to him.
"Keep safe buddy and let me know if you hear anythin' bout anythin' regardin' this plague er rumours of all sorts. "
He'll hang around a bit before making his way to the Central District
The bartender calmly pockets the coins in a practiced way. Though he doesn't count the "tip", his experience tells him much by the weight of the pouch, and he can be heard muttering something about closing early.
Perhaps coincidentally, that particular bartender is not seen again for at least the next week.
He's already missing the fresh ocean breezes from the coast as he makes his way to the Central district. He's thankful his buzz is still strong enough to dull his senses so he doesn't get the full effect of the carnage. Watchful eyes peel the terraine for glimmers of gold armour, healing tents or halflings. Ears are also alert for jinglings of keys or singing.
"They gotta be round' here somewhere."
Maybe it's the drink or maybe it's just really hard to locate a specific halfling in a city in crisis, but whatever the case, Vrebel cannot seem to locate those he is searching for, at least not out in the open.
((At least for now, Acacea is in the midst of a task, and I'll let Gulnyr pipe in if Jennara might happen to be around where Vrebel is.))
In the mean time Vrebel grabs and pours himself some day old coffee from a small table that he thinks belongs to the Rofireinites group. He'll poke around for any kind of work that they need done and offer to help those already working.
A halfling in a bright yellow robe hands a list to a human with a Rofireinite amulet around his neck. She speaks quietly to him, then looks around and holds up one finger. Her eyes lock onto Vrebel and she approaches him.
What is your current assignment?
He drops the bundle of oak branches he was carrying and blinks a few times as he realizes she's finally shown up
"Hello Commander". He offers a salute but keeps his tone as low as he can to match hers but doesn't do a very good job.
"Me mission?" He's not sure quite sure how he want's to answer her but spits something out. "I guess you could say the reason I'm here is ta save lives and hopefully find a cure for all this darn plague!"
"Ya'll have any leads or somethin' I could help on?"
A weary smile comes across his face as he's feeling relieved to finally met someone he can sort of trust and that's he's been in battle with
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Topic: Location Thread: Hurm (Read 5654 times)
