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Post by cassiusexgladio on Aug 18, 2017 14:54:59 GMT
Rats....I fucking hate rats - Hanz Follenhart, City Guardsman
The messenger, exhibiting a subtle breathlessness, fished around in a worn leather hip satchel. Parchment rustled and he withdrew a tightly wound scroll, sealed with a wax shield behind a weighing scale - the symbol of the City Watch. He handed the letter to Leonid, bowed once again, and made a hasty exit - breaking into a trot right after leaving the room.
The letter read: "Go to the Port Tax Collector's Office at Grevid Quay. Speak to Fringo and ask about the black ship. He will guide you from there."
The writer had not bothered to sign his (or her) name.
(You can just take off or you can try to examine the letter, maybe do a magical analysis or just look at the writing. Up to you. If you do any of those, roll for detection and put your number after your post in Paren)
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Post by iyla on Aug 18, 2017 19:36:43 GMT
Leliana picks up the letter, passing it to Fionn so he can examine it.
(8)
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Post by cassiusexgladio on Aug 18, 2017 20:24:57 GMT
The letter was written on plain nondescript parchment - nothing was very obvious about it. The writing was neat and the ink was not smeared. The letter did, however, smell slightly of lavender.
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Post by iyla on Aug 18, 2017 20:30:27 GMT
Fionn inhales deeply, taking in the lavender scent. "Maybe the author was a woman?" Leliana nods. "It's possible. Or maybe they just have a garden?">
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Post by Poopmok on Aug 18, 2017 21:12:47 GMT
[Rats...... I fucking love rats - Sexually frustrated sewer goblin]
Leonid peered over at the letter, recognizing nothing odd with the letter.
"Give it here, let me analyze it," he said to the elves.
(Magical analyisis roll - 8)
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Post by iyla on Aug 18, 2017 21:22:49 GMT
Leliana nodded, handing him the letter. >
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Post by cassiusexgladio on Aug 18, 2017 22:04:02 GMT
The magical aura of the letter was clean. Suspiciously clean, in fact. Magical contamination from the Devastation had littered the entire world and basal levels of magic tainted almost everything. This letter, however, had had its magical aura thoroughly wiped clean.
(Okay enough fuckin' around leave the barracks lol)
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Post by iyla on Aug 18, 2017 22:07:35 GMT
(xD) Leliana and her brothers put on their gear/armor, grab their weapons, and head to the Port Tax Collecter's office >
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Post by Poopmok on Aug 18, 2017 22:11:18 GMT
This was one of the very first times Leonid had encountered something truly cleansed magically. In the North, doing something like that on a sacred object would grant you a painful execution, and even on mundane items it made him uncomfortable.
After getting ready and grabbing his gear he went with the elves. >
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Post by iyla on Aug 18, 2017 22:34:06 GMT
Leliana glances at Leo. "What do you think the deal is here?">
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Post by Poopmok on Aug 18, 2017 23:25:53 GMT
"Nothing good. Keep your wits about you, whoever sent us this letter has access to a powerful mage, and few of those southern types serve outside the Imperial army, or outside the Empire's capacity in general."
If this mage served the Empire all was well in good, but the only reason in his mind a mage wouldn't serve the Ruler or the nobility was that he was criminal. In other words, complete scum.
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Post by iyla on Aug 18, 2017 23:39:48 GMT
Leliana nods. "Of course. I'm sure it's nothing too serious. "
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Post by cassiusexgladio on Aug 19, 2017 15:57:11 GMT
Dawn was pulled into high noon as the fiery yellow orange globe of the sun pulled its way up into the sky above Vor Calba. The streets were filled with crowds of people slipping around each other like shoals of fish. Horse or oxen drawn carts rumbled over cobblestones and merchants at streetside stalls hawked their wares. In the distance, someone was singing to the accompaniment of a lute.
The Port Tax Collector's office perched atop a small windswept hill that overlooked the docks. It resembled, somewhat, a castle although this was most likely due to the large decaying stone tower that made up the core of the office. The tower had served as a watch tower long ago in the days when Calba was just another petty kingdom and the Ruler had not yet emerged. Later, after the establishing of the Empire, the tower was given to the Port Tax office to serve as their headquarters.
A dozen stone steps led to a heavy oak door, reinforced with strips of beaten iron, that served as the entrance to the office. It was propped open with a couple bricks.
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Post by iyla on Aug 20, 2017 17:01:18 GMT
Leliana sighs, tying up her hair and walking up to the door, pushing it open and venturing inside. "Hello? Is anyone here?">
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Post by cassiusexgladio on Aug 20, 2017 19:16:12 GMT
Offices look alike, across culture, species, and time. The doorway opened into a great musty smelling stone antechamber from which several hallways branched out. The mouth of a winding staircase opened to the right of the Chosen. Immediately ahead was a large circular desk that was cluttered with mountains of ledgers and pyramids of parchment scrolls, piles of quills and nested towers of used ink pots.
A few city guardsmen sat at the far corner, leaning back against the stone wall. They looked at Leliana, not quite leering, but also not really looking away.
A clerk sat behind the circular desk, almost obscured by the mountains of clutter. "Come forward" He (or possibly she) squeaked from behind a large roll of parchment scrolls.
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