Game: The Awakening

He looks, wide-eyed, at the creature before him.
"You... guarded me while I was unconscious? Then... then I owe you my life, and a debt of gratitude."

Aras pauses, stooping to collect the pouch of coins, slipping it into his backpack with a somewhat awkward, backwards-twisting motion.

"I have agreed to keep these others company," The Hobgoblin gestures, as he speaks, to Phaed'yiin, Tsuru and Xasskorn, "but should you ever need my help, you have but to ask, and I will do anything within my power. Tell me, may I know your name... friend?"

"Then I will call you Dolmen, for the word has a certain ring of respect to it, a respect which you obviously merit," the tone of Aras' voice as he says this makes it clear that, although he is impressed, this is no awe-stricken compliment, merely a statement of fact. As the ranger sees it, Dolmen seems a powerful being, and is therefore worthy of respect.

"Dolmen," He continues, "As it was you first who came upon me after my arrival in this place, I wonder if you could tell me... how did I come to this city?"

[=dark red]"So the portal is no longer operating -well, that is a pity, indeed. More than a few blood's 'ill pay a hefty price for the location of a new portal -especially in the wake of the Tempest of Doors."[/]

Phaed'yiin seems bored by the exchange between Aras and "Dolmen" -not to mention stepping back a few paces as he comes closer, more from the disdain of the muck-monster's stench than anything else.

Wrapping her wings about her like a shield, she glances at the soldiers' movement, and notes the direction of the aasimar's departure -as well as looking for the butter-fly-winged suspect in partculuar (but appearing to do so with only casual interest).

She turns away from the scene -but only partially, and goes to resume her previous attempt at leaving the murder-site:

[=dark red]"Come, Aras. Blood Debt or not that you owe to this 'thing', but we must go -Lokaski does not seem a forgiving 'man' and will not likely look kindly upon our delay in leaving as he has ordered."[/]

"Clean, cold water washes away more than dirt, it can cleanse the soul and bring enlightenment as well. If you wish for a hand to water your roots, Dolmen, I will be glad to help. Perhaps the hand of a gardener is just what you need."

"As for tolerance and intolerance, I have much experience with the later. Do you think that when these markings were first burned into my skin, I did not find the sensation intolerable? A being of will may learn to endure and to tolerate anything, and by exercising that will become stronger. It is intolerance that makes men..." He glances toward Phaed'yiin and bows slightly, "...and women, weak. Much intolerence I have faced, even from those who I swore to serve. Yet it is they, the intolerent, who perished in the Shadow, and I who was proven the stronger."

"If the lady will not object to my being so bold, I would dearly love to see her mistress' gardens, for I have seen little other than sharp vines grow in this fabled city. Yet I also see a garden here that needs tending. If she would allow honorable Dolmen to accompany us, I may do both."

(OOC: Azure, you don't need to keep rolling Diplomacy checks when talking to Phaed'yiin, unless you want to -the first impression was the thing vital to me).

Phaed'yiin listens to the seemingly endless discussions with a rising annoyance at the delay:

[=dark red]"As a gardener and a hunter-"[/], she says in regards to Tsuru and Aras,[=dark red]"-both of you should realize that there are seasons that come and pass, and some windows of opportunities when shut, never open again. The time for our departure has long since come, and if we do not seize it, it may pass us irrevocably"[/], she says montioning over to the wall of glaring guards with a subtle wing-gesture.

[=dark red]"Come with me if you desire."[/]

And with that, she turns, and walks through the line of guards with her drow patron, heading in the intitial direction of Isabel's desmene.

(Trias, what about Xhoo? Did I see him and did he leave already, and if so, in what direction?)

He follows Phaed'yiin, suddenly concerned. "I hope my procrastination has not angered you, Phaed'yiin the Whitewhisper."

As Aras speaks his hand returns to his bearded chin, needlessly scratching at the straggly growth out of habit - perhaps nervous habit; it is hard to tell from his blank expression.

Aras fixes the Drow with a stare, his hand falling away from his chin, before calmly stating, "I believe you must have misheard me, Xasskorn. I did not direct my question at you."

After a pause long enough to be felt, but short enough so as not to allow the dark Elf time to respond, he continues, "But still, I hope you will accept my humblest apologies."

The ranger's tone of voice betrays nothing, and it is difficult to tell if he is being genuine or simply going through the motions of politeness... or being sarcastic.

Dolmen follows the group, at the back, watching the buildings, and the fog. His mind clears as he speaks... "The despair is stronger here. It breeds in the harshness, I can feel good folk doing deadly work and destroying their joy to survive... thieves and laborers little better than the condemned. But I sense the Green Cycle here too... there is faith in the gods and the balance... among the sweat and pain."

Tsuru wrinkes his nose. The smell of the Lower ward is of metal, coal, ash, and smoke. He has been in Sigil long enough to recognise each ward by scent. The Ditch, the cesspool of a canal that separates the industrial Lower Ward from the slums of The Hive Ward, is easiest to find. Its smell of stagnation carries for blocks. It is far, on the other side of the smithies and forges. Though he follows slowly, often out of site, Dolmen is still with them, Tsuru knows. He can smell the earth and decay. Each of his companions has their own scent. Tsuru will know them forever more.

The strange spirit-woman smells of silk. She is perfumed with strange scents unlike any blossom in Rokugan. Sweeter, muskier, and sharper all at once.

Her dark-skinned companion who speaks with his hands smells of well-oiled steel with a hint of blood. Not unlike many samurai in that respect, but his flesh smells different. A little like stone, a little like night.

The last, the civilized Bakemono, smells like salt and wood.

"Your sugestion seems favourable to me, at least, Phaed'yiin the Whitewhisper. Although, in truth, I am in your hands entirely - your knowledge of this city far exceeds my dim understanding, and thus I would gratefully follow almost any advice you were to give."

(OOC: Sorry for the double-post)

Tsuru sniffs the air.

"This Ward is one of laborers and craftsmen, yet it also smells heavily of Taint. I still wish to find a bath, but a deep sink of dishwater will do in a pinch. The best Inns, I would think, would still be close to the source of wealthy merchant patrons from the next district over."

Aras glances suspiciously at the man Phaed'yiin indicates.

"Very well. How do you suggest we might aproach this... Tout?"

Dolmen walks back over, having seen this happen a number of times before in his year here. "Give a few coin, tell him you need an inn... he tells you where, or guides."

After waiting a moment, and seeing both parties acquit themselves accordingly, Phaedy'iin takes her eyes off her 'companions' and approaches one of the street pedestrians.

(Trias, check your pm-box, for the details -Phaedy'iin isn't being necessarily secretive -she isn't whispering or hiding, but is far away enough that the conversation isn't public domain -at least for the other PCs engaged with the tout).

(sorry I haven't posted in a while)

Xaskorrn gives a scowl when the word companion is used by Aras to describe him. He closes his eyes as if to envision a better place. One that does not smell so bad.

The demand then that he pay for himself jolts him out of the "dream world". Pay for himself...this is ridiculous. He reaches inside his robes and pulls out a silver coin and holds out his hand. The coin slowly rises into the air and floats to directly infront of the Tout.

"You had better be worth it, tout" he says as (I would assume) the tout plucks the coin from the air.

Phaed'yiin watches the exchange with a slight edge of amusement. However, after the two seem to finsih their spat, she turns to Aras:

[=dark red]"Have you forgotten so soon, son of Mag? Lodging I have, and seek not with you -and would you indeed expect a lady such as I to pay like street harlot? As for the others-"[/] (her hand waves in a loose gesture to Tsuru -and maybe also in the direction of Dolmen -maybe)[=dark red]"they have already told you that they lack coin -and you have already agreed to pay for them. Rescind your offer if you wish, or pay for only one-"[/] her eyes seem to drift to the gurgling mass of swamp dross [=dark red]"-but let us decide and move on."[/]

And then with her eyes falling once again upon the Tout:

[=dark red]"For the labyrinth bells of time chime incescently, and -little- can silence their tolls."[/]

(OOC: Crap, sorry about that. I'm sure Aras would not have forgotten, due to the short amount of gametime that has elapsed, but I'm afraid the real world has many other demands on my memory. I'll edit my previous post so that he only asks for a contribution from Xasskorn.)

The Hobgoblin is slightly taken aback by the proffered ring, but then recovers himself.
"My thanks, friend Dolmen. However, after all you have done for me, let this small matter of coinage be the beginnings of the repayment of my debt."

OOC: I never could access the picture.