It was around noon that the bodies were first discovered in the Well by OId Iron-Eyes--four of them, and still alive. The guards were alerted, and soon after the unconscious bodies were withdrawn from the well. They were in poor condition, comatose and half-drowned, and were immediately taken to the Inn for resuscitation. Turning up in the Well is a much better alternative to the Conglomerate, but even the Well does not guarantee survival.
With the arrival of new Branded, a thirst for adventure lingers in the air. Many Branded hold memories of their old homeland, and have a strong desire to return. In some cases, they even risk a venture into the Conglomerate, in the off chance that it may yield a way to return. Or, they may inspire one of the weaker-willed Branded to make the same journey.
Only, this new arrival has an unusual circumstance: a group of Branded have never arrived before. Some may arrive within days or hours of each other, yes, but two at the same time is unheard of--much less four!
Discovery and danger will have to wait, as the new blood has yet to awaken. It is now almost sunset; the city is abuzz with activity and the first mugs of ale at the Leaky Spout are about to be passed out. Now would be a good time to find out what you can about the Branded, or perhaps what the emergence of a group might mean; rumors and speculation are surely abound. The Inn is closed to the public and its inhabitants are safe from prying eyes, but the rest of The City on the Rim is open to you.
Nihere woke up. He took a deep breath and stretched, slowly getting up. There wasnt much light where he lived in the mornings, so he summoned a tiny flame and lit the lantern next to his bed, illuminating the small room he called "Home". His bed was in one corner. At the end of it was a trunk where he kept most of his belongings. Opposite the bed was a desk and chair with a few books set on top of it, and on the chair hung Nihere's robe. He had worn that thing so much that it essentially became a part of his persona.
Nihere arose from the bed and took his robe from the desk and looked at the open book- it was everything known about Branded and a few theories as to where they came from. Nihere touched his cheek unconsciously, feeling over his own Brand. He then closed the book and put on his robe. After taking his longbow and a few arrows, he left the room and made his way down the hallway to the door leading outside. He looked around at the half-lit world in the early morning.
The man in the blue and orange robe walked around, mostly aimlessly. He knew where he was going, but he had plenty of time, and enjoyed walking around the Wrinkle at times. Once light had fully come into the world, he had arrived at his destination- a small shop, selling small wooden dolls and figures, just to have. Nihere went inside and saw that someone was already inside, making a few figures for today. "Good morning!" Niihere said. The woman simply waved a hand, not taking her eyes off her work. He got the hint and started to prepare for when the store opened. He placed a few of the better figures on a counter, open to the outside, and placed price tags next to them. Some of the better ones were 1 gold each, but most were around 40-70 silver pieces.
"Ah! Finished. Sorry Nihere. I was almost done when you came in." The woman showed him the figure she had been crafting. It was in the rough shape of a dragon.
"Oh, that looks great, Ana!" Nihere responded. He gently took it from her, examining it. It was a bit crude- clearly her first time sculpting something like this- but Nihere liked it nonetheless.
"You can have it then." Ana said.
"Wait, really?" He responded. "You can sell this."
"Oh please, nobody will buy that. Its so very rough around the edges, and im afraid if i cut it back much more itll just fall apart."
"Well, then let me pay for it." Nihere reached for his wallet, before his hand got slapped.
"No! Just take it, consider it a gift."
Nihere chuckled a little and smiled. "Alright, alright." He placed it in his bag and continued setting out some of the other figures for sale.
((+1 Small Wooden Dragon Figure))
The day passed rather uneventfully. Some people bought, some people just looked, and others made conversation with Nihere and Ana. It was mid evening, and Nihere thanked Ana once again for the dragon figure, before leaving. He was making his way home when he saw a crowd, much larger than usual at the Inn. Nihere asked around, and apparently, four Branded had come up from the well at the same time. Everyone wants to know whats going on, but the Inn was focusing much more on making sure the four were okay, rather than answering the questions posed by the public.
One of the nurses recognized Nihere and brought him aside from the crowd. She asked him to help with the Branded- specifically, to be there when they awaken, since Branded are often confused and angry. Nihere agreed, and was brought into the Inn, and set in a room away from the branded. They told him they would come get him when the Branded were almost awake. Nihere nodded, sat and waited.
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Puella Magi Madoka Magicka is an awesome, feel-good, cutesy anime. You should watch it!
Nihere puts the dragon figurine in a pocket on his robes. It's a nice keepsake.
---
As Peter looks through the shop's wares, he notices a Pocket Dimension Key; unfortunately, it's fiendishly expensive. 70 gold! They must not find a lot of those. You aren't able to buy it.
The expenses of the goods you do buy cost 4 gold and 67 silver in total. Most of it was spent on the spellbook.
You study the spellbook for some time. These are rather complex Lunar spells; it'll take a lot more than one session to learn anything from it.
as i realize theyre freakin expensive i try to call the mages to lend me one its a magic item so they must have it
You return to the shop you found the Pocket Dimension Key in. When you ask the shopkeeper--a young woman with dark skin and a vibrant red robe--to lend the key, they frown and deny your request. "A magical item like this is very rare! These can't be made any more, so we have to find them in the Conglomerate. I'm sorry, but I can't lend people something as valuable as this."
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Did something happen to you in your childhood to give you this unreasonable fear of rutabaga?
Peter finds a shop selling a tent and the tools required to set it up. It costs him 15 silver. Your load is becoming bothersome, but you can still move efficiently. As you have everything you set out to buy, you return to where you first started reading the spellbook and resume studying.
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Did something happen to you in your childhood to give you this unreasonable fear of rutabaga?
He struck against the chest of a stuffed target. Each hit caused the mannequin to shake, despite being on a solid post, and throw dust in the air. Cuts and tears covered the cloth that held the hay against the post, the contents spilling out of each. Anders, using wooden, practicing axes, swung repeatedly at the target, striking high and low and everything in between. Finally, on what had become his last swing, the axe in his right hand, made in the likeness of Marshall, snapped at the head, sending it flying some distance. Anders watched it fly, then glanced at his axe, realizing what happened. Out of frustration, he threw the handle in the same direction of the head that choose to dislocate itself and thought, And to think I just bought that one last month. Hmph, poor craftsmanship.
Anders pulled out of a drawer in his house a list of carpenters he knew of in the city. He searched through the list for the name of the last one he'd gone to and crossed it out, passing about a dozen others that had also been scribbled over. It was not Anders' desire to go commission an axe today, with a group of, not just one or two, but four Branded showing up recently, and the rumors that come with them. Still, he went anyway to town anyway, as he did have a job to do.
During his trip, the sights of the city caught his eye. The people talking, the children playing, and, somehow, the reassurance of each building still standing where it had been previously. As time went on, Anders made his way through a sort of commercial district. Farmers sold their crops, artisans their goods, and some various other shops sprinkled throughout. Finally, he made it to the pub he'd been working at for so long. He entered the dark, dingy building. Groups of men sat throughout the building, with fair women, who were scantily clad, and who also tried to woo their hearts and their money away.
Anders walked slowly to the counter, his boots seemingly shaking the building around him with each step. He glared at onlookers, who seemingly questioned his intentions of being here. Anders was by no means a small person, and had a threatening air around him. Maybe that was the reason he was kept around the pub for so many years, just to scare off trouble and to intimidate anyone he decides not to pay. Anyone who frequented the bar knew he was well-meaning, and, after a few drinks, quite jovial. Now standing behind the counter, the people in the bar went back to what they were doing, seeing that Anders was in fact an employee.
In the same seat that his former master, Marshall, sat in the night Anders life took a turn, was a short, stocky man who called over Anders, asking for a drink.
"What kind of whiskey do you got?" said the man. Anders replied to him, stating what was in stock. "Hmm, I think I'll go for-" The man was cut off by a loud banging, as if a table was flipped over, from across the room. Both Anders and the customer in front of him turned to look, the rest of the people in the pub doing the same, silent. A table was indeed flipped, and next to it, a bulky drunk had pressed a man against the wall, holding a shiv to his neck. Nearby witnesses told the drunk to calm down, which seemingly made him more angry.
The drunk shouted, "He's a liar and cheats a cards!"
"I have done no such cheating!" retorted the man against the wall, careful not to accidentally graze his neck against the shiv and draw his own blood. Anders brusquely trotted to the situation to intervene.
"Sir, I'm gonna have to ask you to leave." Anders and the drunk stared at each other, unmoving, like statues.
Anders stares down the aggressive drunkard. He's bald and has a strong face, with thick eyebrows and a bony, angular jawline. He's wearing a peasant's beige tunic and brown, patched burlap pants, along with very large and rough leather boots. Though burly, his common clothing wouldn't be of much use in a fight and his weapon is too short to be use against an axe if you had to use your weapon. And, obviously, he's drunk. It's surprising that he can keep still.
He's looking staring into your eyes with a deathly glare, but you notice his eyes occasionally dart to the two axes at your waist. One of his arms has the man pinned to the wall--a mousy-looking man in a grimy white robe--and the other keeps the shiv pressed to his neck.
"This man-- FLINChed me atta a' gold peeace..." He's breathing heavily as he speaks, "...and cheatsy heere's gonna give it back tehme, if yreh don't mind..."
He doesn't make a move against you, but the man he has pinned is in obvious discomfort--his eyes dart between you and his captor frequently. No-one is trying to calm the man any more, but they're watching intently.
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Did something happen to you in your childhood to give you this unreasonable fear of rutabaga?
Ruth stood up from the table which was still covered in old books which contained some very dull theories of magic. A number of papers with handwritten notes scribbled all over them were strewn across the table's surface. She had spent the morning reading, trying to understand the mysterious, mystical forces that governed this world. But, despite her attempts enlightenment on the subject still eluded her. So, she decided now would be a good time for a break.
She opened the door to her modest, but comfortable, house and stepped outside. She guessed that it was about early afternoon, judging by the position of the sun. It seemed like a nice day for a walk, and she thought that perhaps she could visit the magic tutor's school. Closing the door behind her, Ruth began her stroll.
At about mid-afternoon, Ruth neared centre of town. That was when she noticed some commotion. A number of people were scattered around the place, either looking at the well, the inn or talking to each other. Ruth wouldn't have wondered about this too much if it were for the fact that there were quite a lot of people, more than would usually be about. She walked into the town centre, overhearing fragments of conversation which made her more and more curious about what was happening. Eventually she stopped and talked to a man by the well.
"What happened?" she asked.
"Haven't you heard?" the man replied, "They found some new Branded in the well today, four of them!"
"Four?" she asked.
"Yeah, all at the same time too!" he replied.
Ruth was shocked. While the Branded, like herself, would sometimes show up in the well, they had always appeared one at a time. Never had more than one appeared. Had something about the well changed? Or had it been just a simple case of chance? Maybe one had appeared, followed by another and another in rapid succession. As she thought up theories, a question came to her mind.
"Has anyone spoken to them yet?" she asked.
"I don't know" came the disappointing reply.
This was not the answer Ruth wanted, if someone had talked to the new guys then they might be able to find out what had happened to bring four people here at once. She wanted to question the group, to add to her research. But she doubted that she would be able to, at least not before they exited the inn.
since im in the pub i shoot a lightning beam at the drunk man
You aim a lightning beam at the drunkard, but you swing your axe a little too clumsily during the cast and the bolt hits the wall next to his head. Luckily, it isn't set alight.
The drunkard's composure is broken and he whirls around--accidentally cutting a nasty gash across his captive's left cheek--trying to see the source of the abrupt noise. In the process, he lifts his arm off the robed man, who dashes out the door in an instant. The drunk glares at you, but once he notices your axe, his face softens and his expression is replaced with fear. He blubbers something along the lines of "think I've hadanough axes fer a night" before staggering towards the door.
Well. That was something. A few patrons move to turn the table upright again as the drunk hurriedly fumbles with the doorknob.
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Did something happen to you in your childhood to give you this unreasonable fear of rutabaga?
Anders was furious at the person that had cast the lightning bolt in his bar. Or perhaps he wasn't a person. He was far too skinny, and, given his display of reckless use of magic, far too barbaric to have rational, human thought. Anders raised his voice at the mage, "What are you thinking? You could have killed the both of them with a bolt like that!" Anders gripped the handles of his axes subconsciously, then released them. At that time, the drunk fumbled out of the door.
Anders ran out the door after the drunk. Citizens filled the streets, providing the drunk a perfect opportunity to escape him. Frustrated, he turned back inside to deal with the "man" who'd threatened more lives than the drunk had. "What was your thinking in doing that, huh? He may have been holding a knife up to someone, but that doesn't mean you had to try to kill him. You just about burnt down this entire building." Again, Anders subconsciously reached for his axes, then stopped himself.
Anders rolled his eyes. "Whatever. If you do that again, don't bother coming back here." At that time, Anders' shift was nearing its end. He wrote a report for his employer about the damage to the wall and table. He included descriptions of each person involved: the alleged cheater, the drunk, and the mage. Upon finishing, he left the pub, taking his daily wages of twenty pieces of silver with him, and walked into the commercial district, glaring at the mage on his way out.
To hopefully put off the stress of the situation that just happened, Anders browsed the stands of artisans. There were knickknacks, dolls, plates and cutlery; some of the bigger stands housed furniture or large, skinned livestock. Unfortunately, nothing caught his eye. Previously Anders didn't want to hear any rumors about the new Brandeds that had shown up, now, however, he felt some gossip could help with his mood.
He made his way to the well where a large crowd seemingly was always present. He walked threw the people towards the well, hearing all kinds of theories about the Branded. One woman said they were demonic, while two men argued whether there were actually four of them or not. When Anders made it to the well he examined it. Nothing seemed different about it. Looked about the same as the day he showed up. His eyes darted to his brand. He didn't know exactly what was in the center. A circle with eight lines forking off of it, each with a different design on their ends. Sometimes he wondered what brands meant. If they were just there for no reason, if they were pictures of their owner's past life, or if they were a symbol of fate and told who would become what. Looking back at the crowd around him, he saw a few familiar faces of people who frequently came into his pub. He asked around the well what people knew about the Branded. Little didn't seem far-fetched.
Anders approached a short woman with black hair standing near the well the same question he'd asked everyone else, "So, what've you heard about the newcomers?"
The area around the well was filled with chatter and rumours about the four people who had appeared earlier that day. Ruth had done a little bit of talking with the other people and only managed to hear some rumours, ranging from demonic influence to that the entire thing was a hoax. She did, however, manage to at least learn when the four had been found.
She was hardly convinced by any of the rumours, but still she wondered about the newcomers. She wondered about why four of them had showed up at once, and also about their condition. What if the fact that so many of them had arrived at once caused them harm? Perhaps something had happened to the well, what if this was some sort of omen of things to come? These questions circled in her head.
A person approached and asked Ruth about what she knew. The person was a man, he was quite large. A pair of axes hung by his waist, perhaps he was some sort of warrior. Ruth looked up at him as he spoke, and she gave a small sigh before she answered.
"Not much I'm afraid, only some rumours. But I will tell you what I know for certain. A group of four Branded were discovered in the well at about noon" Ruth answered, "The strange thing is that they all appeared at the same time, not one after the other."
Ruth thought it best to spare him the details of all the theories and rumours that the townspeople had invented. Some pinned the responsibility of this event on some kind of external influence, and a few thought that whatever had caused it was not benign. She doubted most, if not all, of these rumours. It would only be once the newcomers recovered and were allowed to leave the inn that they might learn what had really happened. There were still no guarantees, but Ruth thought that this might be one of their best chances of finding out what happened.
"There are lots of rumours circulating about the four, but I think that someone should talk to them before coming to any conclusions" she said to the man.
"Nihere, one has awoken. Please come here." The nurse had returned, and Nihere went with her to see one of the four Branded. They were all in the same room, but on different beds. The one that was awake was a very muscular man, with a brand on his neck, similar to a spider web. He was sitting upright on the bed, legs off on one side. Nihere estimated his height to be close to two meters tall, and quite intimidating. His hair was brown and short, almost shaved. The man looked up to Nihere. His green eyes showed confusion and pain.
"Hello. My name is Nihere. And yours?" He held out his hand to the stranger.
"Im... Dein." The man returned Nihere's handshake. "Where am i? Whats going on?"
"Please, calm down. Panicking solves nothing." Nihere sat on the bed next to him."This place is called the Wrinkle. You are what we call around here a 'Branded'. You have a small, black, Brand on you, and you came up from the central well in this town. Branded normally come from the well every now and then, but what was strange, is that this time, four of you came at once." Nihere referenced the other three, still unconscious. "Most Branded remember something, a small sliver of heir past life. Sometimes the memories are vivid, and others have little to no memories. Do you remember anything?"
"I.... It.... " Dein shivered, before pulling his legs up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. "A pair of white eyes... boring into me..." His voice was shaking, and Nihere could tell that this memory frightened him. He placed an arm across his back, but Dein shrugged it off. "Is there anywhere other than the Wrinkle?"
"Most Branded do try and leave the Wrinkle, to go back to where we may have come from. The only place we know of other than here is the Conglomerate, a great deal below us."
"I- I need to go there! I have to leave this place!" Dein now seemed almost claustrophobic- as if he couldnt bear to be in the Wrinkle a second longer than he has to be.
"Hold on, please." Nihere placed a hand on his arm. "The Conglomerate isnt exactly safe. If you really must leave, at least wait a few days, to collect some gear and weapons before going- its quite dangerous down there."
"NO! I... I have to get there!" Something almost primal was manifesting in Dein.
"I wont stop you, but i'll ask you- please take your time. Really think about it before you go. Get to know the Wrinkle, its actually not a very bad place." Nihere smiled and stood up. He tapped Dein's shoulder once more before going back to the other room.
"Wait..." Dein called. Nihere turned around. "What... What is my Brand? Where is it?"
"...Its a spider's web, on your neck. Ask the nurse for a mirror when she comes around."
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Puella Magi Madoka Magicka is an awesome, feel-good, cutesy anime. You should watch it!
Three magicians are sitting outside the magic tutor's school. They managed to procure a simple wooden desk and benches from somewhere and are seated around it, poring over spellbooks and drinking a dark, aromatic liquid. Occasionally, one of them raises their staff and directs a spell towards a small silver flask on the center of the desk. Each ball of light and iridescent rune that strikes the bottle seems to make it shiver. Peter approaches them, but they're absorbed in their work.
"Sorry, Peter, I don't know." The man who speaks is wizened and wrinkled, with wispy gray hair and burly eyebrows. "We've been tinkering with enchantments for some time now, so we haven't been able to catch up on that. Try someone else."
Peter turns around for a moment and notices a burly man frantically looking around; he seems unaware of his surroundings and is darting around the crowd, occasionally shoving people out of the way. He continues his antics for a short time--guards beginning to approach cautiously--before he slowly seems to calm down. He says something you can't hear to one of the guards, who nods and starts gesturing to the rest, after which he enters the Inn.
What an odd man.
---
Nihere notices that Dein returned to the room, looking embarrassed. He looks sheepishly towards you and mutters, "...I don't actually know how to leave this city."
He sits down on the bed he woke up in and looks at the other figures lying in the beds. The nurse is holding the arm of one of them and seems to be checking their wrist for something. "I guess I'll wait until these people wake up. Maybe they'll know something about my past. Or those eyes..."
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Did something happen to you in your childhood to give you this unreasonable fear of rutabaga?
You return to the enchantment shop and ask for the flight enchantment, but the shopkeeper there gives you a similar response: "No-one I know has heard of an enchantment like that, sorry."
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Did something happen to you in your childhood to give you this unreasonable fear of rutabaga?
Anders noticed the man frantically moving through crowd as guards moved in on him. He was hard to miss, as he was similar in size to Anders. The man calmed down when the guards got close after he whispered to one of them. After the guard's gesture, the man began to walk toward the inn for new Branded. Anders pointed towards the man, and said to the short woman, "Looks like one of them's awake. Maybe we'll get some answers soon."
Peter approaches the door of the inn--it's dusty and made from a deep brown wood--and gives it three quick raps. You wait for some time, but there seems to be no response. Right before you're about to leave, however, you hear the door creak open and see a tiny nurse poke her head out of the crack. She seems to recognize you.
"Oh... Peter, isn't it? The inn is closed to visitors, at the moment. The Branded are starting to wake up, and they seem rather agitated... I don't want to risk any unnecessary harm to you, and I don't think you can help us much with them, so I'll have to ask you to come back later..."
"...unless Nihere wants you to come in, I suppose... do you know each other?"
---
Both Anders and Ruth can hear the conversation from where they are standing.
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Did something happen to you in your childhood to give you this unreasonable fear of rutabaga?
Hearing the conversation between the ma- "Oh, it's him." Anders thought when he turned to see who the conversation was between. He did hear the message from the nurse to the mage. Anders didn't know any Niheres, and dismissed any chance of him getting into the inn. Anders looked back at the woman, "Well, you heard the nurse. Unless we know a Nihere who wants us to be in there, we aren't going to talk to Branded today. I guess I'll see you around." With that, Anders returned to the commercial district, hoping to pass time there until some news about the Branded came out.
This time while browsing the market Anders did find something that interested him. It was a tailor. They had a variety of clothing, ranging from formal dresses to simple cotton shirts. Anders approached the tailor, a woman, and inquired, "What pants do you have in stock? I'm looking for something durable and practical."
The tailor looks you up and down. "You're a skilled fighter, arentch'a? I'll see if I've got something for your folk..."
She flicks open a chest by her side and starts rummaging through it, haphazardly tossing legwear of various styles and colors beside her; the sellsword in the back of the stall shimmies away to avoid the deluge of clothing. Finally, she withdraws a fairly plain looking pair of beige pants. She hands it to you; it's made of thick cloth with padding on the inside and diamond-patterned stitching throughout. It's a little stiff, perhaps just from being crammed in a chest for a while.
"That there should stop a blade from cutting you too badly. Built like armor, bends and breathes like cloth. If you're looking for something like that, it'll be seventy silver, but if you're looking for common clothing or I can probably find something else for about fifteen or twenty. If you don't like this style I've probably got more like this."
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Did something happen to you in your childhood to give you this unreasonable fear of rutabaga?
((OoC thread))
Prologue
It was around noon that the bodies were first discovered in the Well by OId Iron-Eyes--four of them, and still alive. The guards were alerted, and soon after the unconscious bodies were withdrawn from the well. They were in poor condition, comatose and half-drowned, and were immediately taken to the Inn for resuscitation. Turning up in the Well is a much better alternative to the Conglomerate, but even the Well does not guarantee survival.
With the arrival of new Branded, a thirst for adventure lingers in the air. Many Branded hold memories of their old homeland, and have a strong desire to return. In some cases, they even risk a venture into the Conglomerate, in the off chance that it may yield a way to return. Or, they may inspire one of the weaker-willed Branded to make the same journey.
Only, this new arrival has an unusual circumstance: a group of Branded have never arrived before. Some may arrive within days or hours of each other, yes, but two at the same time is unheard of--much less four!
Discovery and danger will have to wait, as the new blood has yet to awaken. It is now almost sunset; the city is abuzz with activity and the first mugs of ale at the Leaky Spout are about to be passed out. Now would be a good time to find out what you can about the Branded, or perhaps what the emergence of a group might mean; rumors and speculation are surely abound. The Inn is closed to the public and its inhabitants are safe from prying eyes, but the rest of The City on the Rim is open to you.
Nihere woke up. He took a deep breath and stretched, slowly getting up. There wasnt much light where he lived in the mornings, so he summoned a tiny flame and lit the lantern next to his bed, illuminating the small room he called "Home". His bed was in one corner. At the end of it was a trunk where he kept most of his belongings. Opposite the bed was a desk and chair with a few books set on top of it, and on the chair hung Nihere's robe. He had worn that thing so much that it essentially became a part of his persona.
Nihere arose from the bed and took his robe from the desk and looked at the open book- it was everything known about Branded and a few theories as to where they came from. Nihere touched his cheek unconsciously, feeling over his own Brand. He then closed the book and put on his robe. After taking his longbow and a few arrows, he left the room and made his way down the hallway to the door leading outside. He looked around at the half-lit world in the early morning.
The man in the blue and orange robe walked around, mostly aimlessly. He knew where he was going, but he had plenty of time, and enjoyed walking around the Wrinkle at times. Once light had fully come into the world, he had arrived at his destination- a small shop, selling small wooden dolls and figures, just to have. Nihere went inside and saw that someone was already inside, making a few figures for today. "Good morning!" Niihere said. The woman simply waved a hand, not taking her eyes off her work. He got the hint and started to prepare for when the store opened. He placed a few of the better figures on a counter, open to the outside, and placed price tags next to them. Some of the better ones were 1 gold each, but most were around 40-70 silver pieces.
"Ah! Finished. Sorry Nihere. I was almost done when you came in." The woman showed him the figure she had been crafting. It was in the rough shape of a dragon.
"Oh, that looks great, Ana!" Nihere responded. He gently took it from her, examining it. It was a bit crude- clearly her first time sculpting something like this- but Nihere liked it nonetheless.
"You can have it then." Ana said.
"Wait, really?" He responded. "You can sell this."
"Oh please, nobody will buy that. Its so very rough around the edges, and im afraid if i cut it back much more itll just fall apart."
"Well, then let me pay for it." Nihere reached for his wallet, before his hand got slapped.
"No! Just take it, consider it a gift."
Nihere chuckled a little and smiled. "Alright, alright." He placed it in his bag and continued setting out some of the other figures for sale.
((+1 Small Wooden Dragon Figure))
The day passed rather uneventfully. Some people bought, some people just looked, and others made conversation with Nihere and Ana. It was mid evening, and Nihere thanked Ana once again for the dragon figure, before leaving. He was making his way home when he saw a crowd, much larger than usual at the Inn. Nihere asked around, and apparently, four Branded had come up from the well at the same time. Everyone wants to know whats going on, but the Inn was focusing much more on making sure the four were okay, rather than answering the questions posed by the public.
One of the nurses recognized Nihere and brought him aside from the crowd. She asked him to help with the Branded- specifically, to be there when they awaken, since Branded are often confused and angry. Nihere agreed, and was brought into the Inn, and set in a room away from the branded. They told him they would come get him when the Branded were almost awake. Nihere nodded, sat and waited.
Nihere puts the dragon figurine in a pocket on his robes. It's a nice keepsake.
---
As Peter looks through the shop's wares, he notices a Pocket Dimension Key; unfortunately, it's fiendishly expensive. 70 gold! They must not find a lot of those. You aren't able to buy it.
The expenses of the goods you do buy cost 4 gold and 67 silver in total. Most of it was spent on the spellbook.
You study the spellbook for some time. These are rather complex Lunar spells; it'll take a lot more than one session to learn anything from it.
You return to the shop you found the Pocket Dimension Key in. When you ask the shopkeeper--a young woman with dark skin and a vibrant red robe--to lend the key, they frown and deny your request. "A magical item like this is very rare! These can't be made any more, so we have to find them in the Conglomerate. I'm sorry, but I can't lend people something as valuable as this."
Peter finds a shop selling a tent and the tools required to set it up. It costs him 15 silver. Your load is becoming bothersome, but you can still move efficiently. As you have everything you set out to buy, you return to where you first started reading the spellbook and resume studying.
He struck against the chest of a stuffed target. Each hit caused the mannequin to shake, despite being on a solid post, and throw dust in the air. Cuts and tears covered the cloth that held the hay against the post, the contents spilling out of each. Anders, using wooden, practicing axes, swung repeatedly at the target, striking high and low and everything in between. Finally, on what had become his last swing, the axe in his right hand, made in the likeness of Marshall, snapped at the head, sending it flying some distance. Anders watched it fly, then glanced at his axe, realizing what happened. Out of frustration, he threw the handle in the same direction of the head that choose to dislocate itself and thought, And to think I just bought that one last month. Hmph, poor craftsmanship.
Anders pulled out of a drawer in his house a list of carpenters he knew of in the city. He searched through the list for the name of the last one he'd gone to and crossed it out, passing about a dozen others that had also been scribbled over. It was not Anders' desire to go commission an axe today, with a group of, not just one or two, but four Branded showing up recently, and the rumors that come with them. Still, he went anyway to town anyway, as he did have a job to do.
During his trip, the sights of the city caught his eye. The people talking, the children playing, and, somehow, the reassurance of each building still standing where it had been previously. As time went on, Anders made his way through a sort of commercial district. Farmers sold their crops, artisans their goods, and some various other shops sprinkled throughout. Finally, he made it to the pub he'd been working at for so long. He entered the dark, dingy building. Groups of men sat throughout the building, with fair women, who were scantily clad, and who also tried to woo their hearts and their money away.
Anders walked slowly to the counter, his boots seemingly shaking the building around him with each step. He glared at onlookers, who seemingly questioned his intentions of being here. Anders was by no means a small person, and had a threatening air around him. Maybe that was the reason he was kept around the pub for so many years, just to scare off trouble and to intimidate anyone he decides not to pay. Anyone who frequented the bar knew he was well-meaning, and, after a few drinks, quite jovial. Now standing behind the counter, the people in the bar went back to what they were doing, seeing that Anders was in fact an employee.
In the same seat that his former master, Marshall, sat in the night Anders life took a turn, was a short, stocky man who called over Anders, asking for a drink.
"What kind of whiskey do you got?" said the man. Anders replied to him, stating what was in stock. "Hmm, I think I'll go for-" The man was cut off by a loud banging, as if a table was flipped over, from across the room. Both Anders and the customer in front of him turned to look, the rest of the people in the pub doing the same, silent. A table was indeed flipped, and next to it, a bulky drunk had pressed a man against the wall, holding a shiv to his neck. Nearby witnesses told the drunk to calm down, which seemingly made him more angry.
The drunk shouted, "He's a liar and cheats a cards!"
"I have done no such cheating!" retorted the man against the wall, careful not to accidentally graze his neck against the shiv and draw his own blood. Anders brusquely trotted to the situation to intervene.
"Sir, I'm gonna have to ask you to leave." Anders and the drunk stared at each other, unmoving, like statues.
Anders stares down the aggressive drunkard. He's bald and has a strong face, with thick eyebrows and a bony, angular jawline. He's wearing a peasant's beige tunic and brown, patched burlap pants, along with very large and rough leather boots. Though burly, his common clothing wouldn't be of much use in a fight and his weapon is too short to be use against an axe if you had to use your weapon. And, obviously, he's drunk. It's surprising that he can keep still.
He's looking staring into your eyes with a deathly glare, but you notice his eyes occasionally dart to the two axes at your waist. One of his arms has the man pinned to the wall--a mousy-looking man in a grimy white robe--and the other keeps the shiv pressed to his neck.
"This man-- FLINChed me atta a' gold peeace..." He's breathing heavily as he speaks, "...and cheatsy heere's gonna give it back tehme, if yreh don't mind..."
He doesn't make a move against you, but the man he has pinned is in obvious discomfort--his eyes dart between you and his captor frequently. No-one is trying to calm the man any more, but they're watching intently.
Ruth stood up from the table which was still covered in old books which contained some very dull theories of magic. A number of papers with handwritten notes scribbled all over them were strewn across the table's surface. She had spent the morning reading, trying to understand the mysterious, mystical forces that governed this world. But, despite her attempts enlightenment on the subject still eluded her. So, she decided now would be a good time for a break.
She opened the door to her modest, but comfortable, house and stepped outside. She guessed that it was about early afternoon, judging by the position of the sun. It seemed like a nice day for a walk, and she thought that perhaps she could visit the magic tutor's school. Closing the door behind her, Ruth began her stroll.
At about mid-afternoon, Ruth neared centre of town. That was when she noticed some commotion. A number of people were scattered around the place, either looking at the well, the inn or talking to each other. Ruth wouldn't have wondered about this too much if it were for the fact that there were quite a lot of people, more than would usually be about. She walked into the town centre, overhearing fragments of conversation which made her more and more curious about what was happening. Eventually she stopped and talked to a man by the well.
"What happened?" she asked.
"Haven't you heard?" the man replied, "They found some new Branded in the well today, four of them!"
"Four?" she asked.
"Yeah, all at the same time too!" he replied.
Ruth was shocked. While the Branded, like herself, would sometimes show up in the well, they had always appeared one at a time. Never had more than one appeared. Had something about the well changed? Or had it been just a simple case of chance? Maybe one had appeared, followed by another and another in rapid succession. As she thought up theories, a question came to her mind.
"Has anyone spoken to them yet?" she asked.
"I don't know" came the disappointing reply.
This was not the answer Ruth wanted, if someone had talked to the new guys then they might be able to find out what had happened to bring four people here at once. She wanted to question the group, to add to her research. But she doubted that she would be able to, at least not before they exited the inn.
You aim a lightning beam at the drunkard, but you swing your axe a little too clumsily during the cast and the bolt hits the wall next to his head. Luckily, it isn't set alight.
The drunkard's composure is broken and he whirls around--accidentally cutting a nasty gash across his captive's left cheek--trying to see the source of the abrupt noise. In the process, he lifts his arm off the robed man, who dashes out the door in an instant. The drunk glares at you, but once he notices your axe, his face softens and his expression is replaced with fear. He blubbers something along the lines of "think I've hadanough axes fer a night" before staggering towards the door.
Well. That was something. A few patrons move to turn the table upright again as the drunk hurriedly fumbles with the doorknob.
Anders was furious at the person that had cast the lightning bolt in his bar. Or perhaps he wasn't a person. He was far too skinny, and, given his display of reckless use of magic, far too barbaric to have rational, human thought. Anders raised his voice at the mage, "What are you thinking? You could have killed the both of them with a bolt like that!" Anders gripped the handles of his axes subconsciously, then released them. At that time, the drunk fumbled out of the door.
Anders ran out the door after the drunk. Citizens filled the streets, providing the drunk a perfect opportunity to escape him. Frustrated, he turned back inside to deal with the "man" who'd threatened more lives than the drunk had. "What was your thinking in doing that, huh? He may have been holding a knife up to someone, but that doesn't mean you had to try to kill him. You just about burnt down this entire building." Again, Anders subconsciously reached for his axes, then stopped himself.
Anders rolled his eyes. "Whatever. If you do that again, don't bother coming back here." At that time, Anders' shift was nearing its end. He wrote a report for his employer about the damage to the wall and table. He included descriptions of each person involved: the alleged cheater, the drunk, and the mage. Upon finishing, he left the pub, taking his daily wages of twenty pieces of silver with him, and walked into the commercial district, glaring at the mage on his way out.
To hopefully put off the stress of the situation that just happened, Anders browsed the stands of artisans. There were knickknacks, dolls, plates and cutlery; some of the bigger stands housed furniture or large, skinned livestock. Unfortunately, nothing caught his eye. Previously Anders didn't want to hear any rumors about the new Brandeds that had shown up, now, however, he felt some gossip could help with his mood.
He made his way to the well where a large crowd seemingly was always present. He walked threw the people towards the well, hearing all kinds of theories about the Branded. One woman said they were demonic, while two men argued whether there were actually four of them or not. When Anders made it to the well he examined it. Nothing seemed different about it. Looked about the same as the day he showed up. His eyes darted to his brand. He didn't know exactly what was in the center. A circle with eight lines forking off of it, each with a different design on their ends. Sometimes he wondered what brands meant. If they were just there for no reason, if they were pictures of their owner's past life, or if they were a symbol of fate and told who would become what. Looking back at the crowd around him, he saw a few familiar faces of people who frequently came into his pub. He asked around the well what people knew about the Branded. Little didn't seem far-fetched.
Anders approached a short woman with black hair standing near the well the same question he'd asked everyone else, "So, what've you heard about the newcomers?"
The area around the well was filled with chatter and rumours about the four people who had appeared earlier that day. Ruth had done a little bit of talking with the other people and only managed to hear some rumours, ranging from demonic influence to that the entire thing was a hoax. She did, however, manage to at least learn when the four had been found.
She was hardly convinced by any of the rumours, but still she wondered about the newcomers. She wondered about why four of them had showed up at once, and also about their condition. What if the fact that so many of them had arrived at once caused them harm? Perhaps something had happened to the well, what if this was some sort of omen of things to come? These questions circled in her head.
A person approached and asked Ruth about what she knew. The person was a man, he was quite large. A pair of axes hung by his waist, perhaps he was some sort of warrior. Ruth looked up at him as he spoke, and she gave a small sigh before she answered.
"Not much I'm afraid, only some rumours. But I will tell you what I know for certain. A group of four Branded were discovered in the well at about noon" Ruth answered, "The strange thing is that they all appeared at the same time, not one after the other."
Ruth thought it best to spare him the details of all the theories and rumours that the townspeople had invented. Some pinned the responsibility of this event on some kind of external influence, and a few thought that whatever had caused it was not benign. She doubted most, if not all, of these rumours. It would only be once the newcomers recovered and were allowed to leave the inn that they might learn what had really happened. There were still no guarantees, but Ruth thought that this might be one of their best chances of finding out what happened.
"There are lots of rumours circulating about the four, but I think that someone should talk to them before coming to any conclusions" she said to the man.
"Nihere, one has awoken. Please come here." The nurse had returned, and Nihere went with her to see one of the four Branded. They were all in the same room, but on different beds. The one that was awake was a very muscular man, with a brand on his neck, similar to a spider web. He was sitting upright on the bed, legs off on one side. Nihere estimated his height to be close to two meters tall, and quite intimidating. His hair was brown and short, almost shaved. The man looked up to Nihere. His green eyes showed confusion and pain.
"Hello. My name is Nihere. And yours?" He held out his hand to the stranger.
"Im... Dein." The man returned Nihere's handshake. "Where am i? Whats going on?"
"Please, calm down. Panicking solves nothing." Nihere sat on the bed next to him."This place is called the Wrinkle. You are what we call around here a 'Branded'. You have a small, black, Brand on you, and you came up from the central well in this town. Branded normally come from the well every now and then, but what was strange, is that this time, four of you came at once." Nihere referenced the other three, still unconscious. "Most Branded remember something, a small sliver of heir past life. Sometimes the memories are vivid, and others have little to no memories. Do you remember anything?"
"I.... It.... " Dein shivered, before pulling his legs up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. "A pair of white eyes... boring into me..." His voice was shaking, and Nihere could tell that this memory frightened him. He placed an arm across his back, but Dein shrugged it off. "Is there anywhere other than the Wrinkle?"
"Most Branded do try and leave the Wrinkle, to go back to where we may have come from. The only place we know of other than here is the Conglomerate, a great deal below us."
"I- I need to go there! I have to leave this place!" Dein now seemed almost claustrophobic- as if he couldnt bear to be in the Wrinkle a second longer than he has to be.
"Hold on, please." Nihere placed a hand on his arm. "The Conglomerate isnt exactly safe. If you really must leave, at least wait a few days, to collect some gear and weapons before going- its quite dangerous down there."
"NO! I... I have to get there!" Something almost primal was manifesting in Dein.
"I wont stop you, but i'll ask you- please take your time. Really think about it before you go. Get to know the Wrinkle, its actually not a very bad place." Nihere smiled and stood up. He tapped Dein's shoulder once more before going back to the other room.
"Wait..." Dein called. Nihere turned around. "What... What is my Brand? Where is it?"
"...Its a spider's web, on your neck. Ask the nurse for a mirror when she comes around."
Three magicians are sitting outside the magic tutor's school. They managed to procure a simple wooden desk and benches from somewhere and are seated around it, poring over spellbooks and drinking a dark, aromatic liquid. Occasionally, one of them raises their staff and directs a spell towards a small silver flask on the center of the desk. Each ball of light and iridescent rune that strikes the bottle seems to make it shiver. Peter approaches them, but they're absorbed in their work.
"Sorry, Peter, I don't know." The man who speaks is wizened and wrinkled, with wispy gray hair and burly eyebrows. "We've been tinkering with enchantments for some time now, so we haven't been able to catch up on that. Try someone else."
Peter turns around for a moment and notices a burly man frantically looking around; he seems unaware of his surroundings and is darting around the crowd, occasionally shoving people out of the way. He continues his antics for a short time--guards beginning to approach cautiously--before he slowly seems to calm down. He says something you can't hear to one of the guards, who nods and starts gesturing to the rest, after which he enters the Inn.
What an odd man.
---
Nihere notices that Dein returned to the room, looking embarrassed. He looks sheepishly towards you and mutters, "...I don't actually know how to leave this city."
He sits down on the bed he woke up in and looks at the other figures lying in the beds. The nurse is holding the arm of one of them and seems to be checking their wrist for something. "I guess I'll wait until these people wake up. Maybe they'll know something about my past. Or those eyes..."
The old magician's response is curt. "We've never been able to develop an enchantment like that."
He looks too busy tinkering with the phial to be interested in conversation.
You return to the enchantment shop and ask for the flight enchantment, but the shopkeeper there gives you a similar response: "No-one I know has heard of an enchantment like that, sorry."
Anders noticed the man frantically moving through crowd as guards moved in on him. He was hard to miss, as he was similar in size to Anders. The man calmed down when the guards got close after he whispered to one of them. After the guard's gesture, the man began to walk toward the inn for new Branded. Anders pointed towards the man, and said to the short woman, "Looks like one of them's awake. Maybe we'll get some answers soon."
Peter approaches the door of the inn--it's dusty and made from a deep brown wood--and gives it three quick raps. You wait for some time, but there seems to be no response. Right before you're about to leave, however, you hear the door creak open and see a tiny nurse poke her head out of the crack. She seems to recognize you.
"Oh... Peter, isn't it? The inn is closed to visitors, at the moment. The Branded are starting to wake up, and they seem rather agitated... I don't want to risk any unnecessary harm to you, and I don't think you can help us much with them, so I'll have to ask you to come back later..."
"...unless Nihere wants you to come in, I suppose... do you know each other?"
---
Both Anders and Ruth can hear the conversation from where they are standing.
Hearing the conversation between the ma- "Oh, it's him." Anders thought when he turned to see who the conversation was between. He did hear the message from the nurse to the mage. Anders didn't know any Niheres, and dismissed any chance of him getting into the inn. Anders looked back at the woman, "Well, you heard the nurse. Unless we know a Nihere who wants us to be in there, we aren't going to talk to Branded today. I guess I'll see you around." With that, Anders returned to the commercial district, hoping to pass time there until some news about the Branded came out.
This time while browsing the market Anders did find something that interested him. It was a tailor. They had a variety of clothing, ranging from formal dresses to simple cotton shirts. Anders approached the tailor, a woman, and inquired, "What pants do you have in stock? I'm looking for something durable and practical."
The tailor looks you up and down. "You're a skilled fighter, arentch'a? I'll see if I've got something for your folk..."
She flicks open a chest by her side and starts rummaging through it, haphazardly tossing legwear of various styles and colors beside her; the sellsword in the back of the stall shimmies away to avoid the deluge of clothing. Finally, she withdraws a fairly plain looking pair of beige pants. She hands it to you; it's made of thick cloth with padding on the inside and diamond-patterned stitching throughout. It's a little stiff, perhaps just from being crammed in a chest for a while.
"That there should stop a blade from cutting you too badly. Built like armor, bends and breathes like cloth. If you're looking for something like that, it'll be seventy silver, but if you're looking for common clothing or I can probably find something else for about fifteen or twenty. If you don't like this style I've probably got more like this."