Post by DM Bob on Jan 20, 2021 4:24:21 GMT
Most of you settle for the evening. Laahk and Victory make their way close by, hoping that there is word of tarek activity on the streets.
Luckily, tareks and half tareks are generally rare in the City States. Perhaps an ex-gladiator here, an escaped slave there, or the random castoff bastard or bastardess. Heck, find someone who looked like a tarek that wasn't an actual tarek might be more common depending on the city. Balic though? There were enough from wilds from the waste that it wasn't unheard of.
Flickering twilight shadows. The chatter of the narrow streets. A small old brick bar with an open front burns with dirty oil lamp light as broy is passed and story is told. Under the bar's canvas canopy, a trio of two human women and a man are acting out a tale of tragedy to the laughter and enjoyment of some the artisan and workers.
You pass coin and chatter and share drink to eventually hear rumor of a brute matching your description... last seen somewhere near the docks.
"Ya say a dwarf too? Sounds like them racketeers o'er at the docks." Says a muscled man who laughs at the rendition of Uncle Tontor's journey to the moons being acted out before him, the two ladies mimicking silk worms as the man pantomimes a narrow escape from certain death.
"Careful, they sometimes do dirty work for the 'tricians. But you didn't hear me say that."
Luckily, tareks and half tareks are generally rare in the City States. Perhaps an ex-gladiator here, an escaped slave there, or the random castoff bastard or bastardess. Heck, find someone who looked like a tarek that wasn't an actual tarek might be more common depending on the city. Balic though? There were enough from wilds from the waste that it wasn't unheard of.
Flickering twilight shadows. The chatter of the narrow streets. A small old brick bar with an open front burns with dirty oil lamp light as broy is passed and story is told. Under the bar's canvas canopy, a trio of two human women and a man are acting out a tale of tragedy to the laughter and enjoyment of some the artisan and workers.
You pass coin and chatter and share drink to eventually hear rumor of a brute matching your description... last seen somewhere near the docks.
"Ya say a dwarf too? Sounds like them racketeers o'er at the docks." Says a muscled man who laughs at the rendition of Uncle Tontor's journey to the moons being acted out before him, the two ladies mimicking silk worms as the man pantomimes a narrow escape from certain death.
"Careful, they sometimes do dirty work for the 'tricians. But you didn't hear me say that."
