It was a bright young day in the lands of the Rinaldi, and Thimblethumb town was slowly going to sleep, while another half woke up to pick up where they left. The town was a famous trading hub due to the small river that led out into the sea, small barges ran the river daily with their wares. It was one of the safest rivers in the lands, regularly patrolled by the Otter Brigade, a local militia that was known throughout the lands for their excellent swordsmanship and guerrilia tactics, although also notorious for their dogged and ruthless pursuit of bandits. A road just outside the city led straight to the great city of Triskellian, which was only four days travel away.
The coyote’s and foxes sought out their beds as the sun rose, and the scent of fresh bread emanated from the cozy little Antlerhome Bakery, the bakery at the corner leading to the town square. At the town square people were standing around gossiping as the diurnal merchants set up their shops. The talk of town could be nothing other than Tassobianco, the highway man that had been plaguing the countryside as of late. Even the Otter Brigade could not find this bandit, although none knew if he had already hunted near the river, he was after all known for leaving no survivors.
(Lets get this show on the road)
The coyote’s and foxes sought out their beds as the sun rose, and the scent of fresh bread emanated from the cozy little Antlerhome Bakery, the bakery at the corner leading to the town square. At the town square people were standing around gossiping as the diurnal merchants set up their shops. The talk of town could be nothing other than Tassobianco, the highway man that had been plaguing the countryside as of late. Even the Otter Brigade could not find this bandit, although none knew if he had already hunted near the river, he was after all known for leaving no survivors.
(Lets get this show on the road)
The sun has barely risen when the rat arrives. He is wearing a leather armor over a commoner's outfit, with a crude hat on his head with openings for his large ears. He's hardly unarmed, with a greatsword in a scabbard on his back and a long spear rested on his shoulder. He's also carrying a backpack, so his march is slow, and he's visibly tired.
First thing to do around is to look for an inn, tavern, or other place to sleep and maybe it; it is 'late' for the nocturnal creature. The sore traveler begins to do just that.
First thing to do around is to look for an inn, tavern, or other place to sleep and maybe it; it is 'late' for the nocturnal creature. The sore traveler begins to do just that.
The bat yawned, as he paced the streets of the city. It was getting late, and his friends were all 'calling it a day' so to speak. Jericho reached one of this thin hands into his pocket, to bring out a few coin for a room. The night had been good to him; perhaps a little too good. He'd won a few games, and spent all the earnings on wine and food. There was nothing left for a room, and he didn't want to be harassed by the police for sleeping under a bridge again. His face was getting a little too well known in these parts.
Perhaps it was best that he move on soon.
But first he needed some quick denar. His eyes darted through the crowds - focusing on a moment on an armoured rat. He too was a creature of the night. Hopefully the early hour would soften his wit. The bat dashed towards the rat, a wide, welcoming smile across his face. "Blimey, I have not seen you in ages," he greeted the rat like an old friend with a slap on the back. "It's good to see you again!"
Perhaps it was best that he move on soon.
But first he needed some quick denar. His eyes darted through the crowds - focusing on a moment on an armoured rat. He too was a creature of the night. Hopefully the early hour would soften his wit. The bat dashed towards the rat, a wide, welcoming smile across his face. "Blimey, I have not seen you in ages," he greeted the rat like an old friend with a slap on the back. "It's good to see you again!"
rolled 1d8 and got 6
A roll for deceit, if I need it.
rolled 1d8 and got 8
Another roll for deceit, if I need it :B
(Alright, Jericho you should add Will to that roll, lying to people is a will & deceit roll after all. Now if Faltharn chooses to try and resist this role he can roll mind & inquiry, if none of his rolls score higher than 8 (or higher than your will roll if this is higher) then Faltharn should believe Jericho, while if it's higher he is successful and will see through this trick)
Faltharn frowns. He does not remember this person! He wonders if his leg's being pulled.
rolled 1d6 and got 1
Will
Hmm. Then again, he looks very, very familiar... after a moment staring, he finally speaks. "...oh. Greetings. Apologies if I didn't recognize you, I am rather tired. It is very surprising to see you here, good... what is your name again?" He does his best to sound polite, but is more than a little puzzled and it shows!
Faltharn could swear that this person was once his best friend.
Jericho noted the stranger's frown, but it quickly vanished. He stifled a smile, and bowed his head. "Ah, no surprise there," he replied meekly. "It's Jericho," he motioned one of his bony hands towards his patched shirt. "As you can see, I've fallen on some harder times."
Meanwhile, a character off to the side walks a fair distance off! He is Cazzanou, the frill-necked lizard, with his loose, light frills waving lazily behind his head as he walks. As he muddles over his plans for the day he passes the pair in the street, but makes no motion to talk to them despite the subtle, amused smile tugging at his reptilian lips. He certainly has many things he must do today!
Oh, it's Jericho! Faltharn's old bud. Honestly he can't remember a thing about an old bud called Jericho, but that's probably because he's sleepy and achy. "Oh, yes! Master Jericho, how could I forget. Again I must apologize, my friend." Faltharn looks down at the other's shirt as it's pointed to him, then nods slowly. "I can see that. It is truly a pity. If there is any way I can assist you..."
After he says this, he hears steps, and he instinctively turns around to look at the reptilian person that's so happily passing by. Under his hat, he squints. Is that a lizard, a rabbit, or is Faltharn's tiredness making him see things?
After he says this, he hears steps, and he instinctively turns around to look at the reptilian person that's so happily passing by. Under his hat, he squints. Is that a lizard, a rabbit, or is Faltharn's tiredness making him see things?
"Sir! You are too kind," Jericho's upper lip twitched, and he turned away for a moment to wipe a tear from his eye. It was then when his eyes met Cazzanou's. What kind of creature was he - he'd never seen one of his kind before. It was irrelevant, really. The more important question was: what was he doing, just standing there? Was he a friend of the rat? Was he a passer-by listening into his conversation. Jericho didn't need anyone intruding - he had this rat believing every word.
"Please, all I ask of you is a half-denar for a room and some food," he said turning back to the rat. "I will pay you back as soon as I am able."
"Please, all I ask of you is a half-denar for a room and some food," he said turning back to the rat. "I will pay you back as soon as I am able."
Faltharn seems a little put off by this request, so much that he forgets about the bunnylizard guy passing by, but does not hesitate for a moment. "Yes, of course." As he reaches for a pouch on his waist and opens it, he speaks. "Say, good friend, would you know of any reputable inn or tavern around - one with available rooms? Ah, here you go." And he extends a hand with a single denar at the bat.
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