To all:
I'll reply to the individual threads for all to read - to avoid spoilers galore. I think it'll be more interesting for everyone this way. Consider that your PC is not aware of what happens to others, unless the others indeed mention that they tell you what happened to them (please be specific about this).
When you mention that you speak with people without specifying a topic, I might reply with a general statement in return also - or not, arbitrarily. At any time, don't hesitate to let me know if you strike up conversation more deeply with anyone.
To Discido: (Though again, everyone can read)
Szord wrote:With a full day to explore, I wave to my comrades, and walk out into the
town. Mostly I wander, taking the feel of the town, looking for fellow
travelers, exchanging pleasant conversation as I find it.
The city is very active during daytime with a lot of people crowding, and sometimes overcrowding, the streets. After having passed some time here, you understand that the relative security that the walls and militia offer the citizens acts to attract a lot of travellers and families that do not feel safe in the nearby mountains and countryside. You understand why, mind you; even though this part of the world is not so savage as other regions, it remains hostile and security is sought after.
People speak of the coming winter which, in the lowlands and in Cauldron itself, mostly means a rainy season. There are some preparations to make for this and people come to buy some provisions, tools and equipment. Of course, this also means overtime work for plantation workers as they harvest the crops (including coffee beans) before the wet season starts.
You hear a few people mention goblins in the city of Cauldron. Rumors of vandalism - a store being robbed or a public building being defaced - are mostly what you hear on the topic. One of the main question that comes up is: how have they managed to cross the wall?
I stop in at the temple of Pelor, and leave a donation ( 10GP ), talking
to the priest, and praising them for their good work.
The temple of Pelor is very small and modest in Cauldron (though the clergy of Pelor is very important in Perin). The cleric is a a human, relatively young, you'd say in his mid to late twenties. He introduces himself as Kristof Jurgensen. He's of a small stature and has a thick, curly brown beard. He appears polite and discrete to you, but he's willing to entertain conversation.
I take my leave,
and pass on, occasionally stopping to refresh myself, dropping a few
coins into the few begging bowls I see. For lunch, I find myself at the
Drunken Morkoth, where I chat with the travelers I find there, seeking
news of the road, enjoying a nice fish stew, looking the place over.
The Morkoth is a nice Inn. Not rich by any means, but still above the Eel. The place is larger too and many travelers stop here to eat or sleep on their travels. In addition to topics that I've mentioned above, you hear all sorts of tales, from that of an apparently notorious centuries-old red dragon roaming the mountain range somewhere away from here, to the ogres being defeated by or vanquishing the Count's soldiers.
As I walk, I think about Sealamin's new interest into stringed instruments.
Nostalgically, I keep and eye out for a mandalin, thinking it might
help to pass the time, and perhaps Sealimin would like someone to
perform with ...
After lunch, I think about shopping, peaking into passing shops, the
unfamiliar weight of money in my pocket, remembering my old
friend Cara saying 'He who dies with money in his pocket is a fool'.
I find Tygot's facinating, and poke around looking for a particularly
classy holy symbol, hopefully one that has a nice +1 on it.
At Tygot's you find both a mandolin and a holy symbol. Tygot, the owner, is a small, skinny old man with grey hair and generous sideburns. He tells you straight out that he doesn't haggle and that if you're not satisfied with his price you can take your business elsewhere. Apart from being a bit gruff, he's relatively pleasant to talk to.
The mandolin is made of wood and though it's strings could benefit from being changed, it has been nicely painted with a dragon that extends around its entire casing and who's head bears a striking resemblance to that on your sword. The cost is 30 gp - more than an ordinary instrument of this type, but Tygot tells you that it was painted by a traveler who stayed in Cauldron several years ago who claimed to come from beyond the Great Desert where a kingdom ruled by a dragon existed.
The holy symbol you find is nothing to write to your relatives about, but is appealing in its simplicity: it is carved out of a piece of red wood such that each slice taken off by the knife is voluntarily most obvious. The three waves of Avandra stand out nicely in such a way on a smooth background.
As afternoon starts to wane, I find myself looking through the maps
at Westkey's. I'd be interested in a map of the surrounding country,
if it come not too dearly.
The Map Emporium is an interesting place for a traveler. It indeed has maps of the region, in addition to maps of the city itself and even maps of some public buildings. Weskey, a red-haired dwarf who's surprisingly deft considering that he must weigh about 500 pounds well counted, speaks glibly of his maps and his shop and his work - not only does he sell maps, he also draws some. As you enter his shop, he is in the midst of drawing a map of the neaby village of redgorge, with his map-in-progress surrounded by about two hundred sheets with sketches, notes and drawings. Let me know what you are looking for more specifically. The maps cost about 20-30 gold pieces a piece. (You can see a very general map of the Cauldron region in the Background thread.)
Walking back to the Inn, I stop for a moment in the temple of Ioun,
again leaving a small donation, and passing some time with the
priests there.
The cathedral of Ioun is very impressive. Even larger than the temple of Bahamut, it's inner halls are vast and impressive. The main door must be about thirty feet in height. You see at least five or six acolytes inside, each at a small desk, occupied writing things down or copying a book's content into another. They are generally much more reserved and not of the talkative type, though they thank you for the donation.
Finally, as day passes to night, I find myself back at the Slippery Eel,
which suffers in comparison to the Morkoth, but seems to possess
a quantity of honesty, sincerity, and strength that surpasses the
gentler place. I take a moment to buy a round for the crowd, and
cast my eyes about, looking for a nice young girl to approach.
Paying a round for everyone brings you more than one appreciative smile, but you notice that more than a few members of the crowd look at you with stares that suggest trouble. People here are poor and your gold-filled pouch from which coins spill to buy some beer for strangers does not go unnoticed. Conveniently however, neither do your nice sword, and for the time being the other... guests appear to keep their distance.
As for nice young girls, there are a couple at your arms once you're done playing for your round. Though one misses a few teeth and the other barely speaks understandably, they are good looking enough and obviously ready to hear your stories.
