Post by Ian (Menace) on Aug 2, 2019 10:59:34 GMT
The sun has just risen over the sea, as the small group of travellers arrives on the last hill crest on the northern road that leads to the town of Port Ffirst. Menace and his companions Faye, Nega, Ergin and Bubbles, sound a sigh of relief as they take in the familiar sight of the port, and the sea of storms beyond, sunlight making the water glitter. The return from the mountains of Kundar was uneventful, and heavily loaded with the silver looted from the ruined monastery, this was exactly what they had hoped for. Splitting the loot in equal shares, the adventurers say their goodbyes, confident to meet each other again in the Seashank tavern soon enough. While the others make their way to the town, Menace splits off and wanders into the nearby woods; he has other plans.
As expected, not too far from the road he comes across a makeshift camp: five tents arranged in a semi-circle around a fireplace, horses hobbled and softly whinnying as Menace steals his way into camp. A lone sentry sits by the glow of the dying embers, half asleep, when Menace thumps down beside him on the log that served as a bench, waking the lean, bearded man with a startle.
“Ishmael, dearest of all my friends! It is so good to see you again. I trust you have found your way here without trouble?” Menace says cheerfully to the surprised man, “I hope your people are all well and ready for their new lives? I can tell you, Port Ffirst is truly the marvel of the Shield Coast. And as I said, I can make good use of you and your men, resourceful and hungry as you are for respect and proper pay, eh? This is a land of opportunity! And I intend to grab it by the balls.” Menace says with a toothy grin that has Ishmael recoil. But the sound of pay is alluring, and he knows that his people, women and children among them, have not had steady feed or a place to call home for a long while.
“You are certain you can get us into the town past the guards? Some of my men have had… trouble with the guards before. And you can get us work?”
“Worry not my friend! I am a man of my word. And watchman George, who guards the northern gate is a dear friend of mine; we have an… understanding, shall we say? You and your people will work for me - that I can guarantee. All I need from you is loyalty, and I promise you, that loyalty will be amply rewarded!” Menace says, patting Ishmael’s back, “so let us be on our way! The sun is rising and one should never waste daylight, when there is work to be done!”
Ishmael rises to his feet. When he and his people arrived from Faerun, they had been full of hope for a better life in the new world. But life had not been kind to them. Here he stood, with this odd Tiefling he hardly knew, making vague promises; but at this point, what had he truly to lose?
“One last thing, you say we will work for you, fair enough. But we hardly know you, and-“
“Oh, how rude of me!” exclaims the Tiefling as he pivots on his heels and bows smartly, flashing that toothy grin of his, “I have not properly introduced myself, have I? Well then; I am a true-born son of Port Ffirst, jewel of the Shield Coast; I am the protector of the downtrodden; advocate of the weak; king of beggars and prince of thieves! Some slanderous, nay, libellous tongues have called me a Menace! But to my friends, it’s just Mace. And I can tell, we will be the very best of friends…”
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After having brought Ishmael and his people into the town, paying off watchman George once more, Menace leaves his new henchman at the Seashank tavern to look after his affairs in town. As the day begins to wane, he makes his customary trip to the Oldtown docks, where he is greeted raucously by the local band of urchins. His “apprentice” Carl is busily handing out day-old bread and Menace bathes in the adoration of his merry little court.
“My friends!” he exclaims, “I have returned from Kundar! And a most excellent journey it was!”
“Did you kill the dragon??” one of the children, Sally the crabber, asks wide-eyed.
“Alas, the dragon had flown off! Smart beast, probably sought to save its hide from uncle Mace. Not to worry, I will be sure to get it next time we cross paths”, Menace concedes graciously, “but we did dive deep under the ruins and into the catacombs. The wild kobolds fled before us, remembering well the sting of our blades! And down there, in the bowels of the mountain, we found… the Walking Dead!” Menace yells, to the delighted squeals of the children.
“A nameless horror raised the dead; shambling mummified dwarf corpses, and sent them after us! But we fought them, fought them tooth and nail, and smashed the cursed gong that called them from eternal slumber. The corpses went wild after that, tearing each other apart! Unfortunately for our scholarly patron Adi, we could not save the ancient knowledge they were guarding… The ancient tome at the roots of the Bloody Willow was torn to shreds by the maddened corpses.” He pauses, reaching into the shadowy depth of his cloak-of-many-pockets, and with a smile continues, “But we did save something!” and he throws a handful of old and tarnished silver coins into the air, the delighted children screaming, squealing, scrambling to pick them up. As the urchins settle down again, Menace gives them his broad smile, stroking his chin. “As I said, it was an excellent journey. But do tell me my friends, my little birds, having told you my story, do tell me of yours! What has happened here in my absence? What have you seen and overheard from the merchants? Did you see the Lenoirs’ men out and about? Or those of the countess? What are they up to? Do tell me... eeeeverthing…”
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Darkness falls over Port Ffirst, and the seagulls fall quiet in turn. Through the alleys leading away from Old Town’s docks, Menace strolls, with Carl in tow.
“That was awesome Mr Mace! You have such adventures! Oh, I hope you will take me with you some time? Will you?” Carl asks, as he eagerly follows his master. Menace laughs at the thought, playfully punches Carls shoulder, then fatherly puts his arm around him. “Aaah Carl, I appreciate your eagerness! But you are a bit young for such journeys still, and what would I do without you here, being my eyes and ears, keeping tabs on all my friends? I need you Carl, and I need you here.”
Carl is visibly disappointed, but also proud for the trust the great man professes to place in him.
“So where are we going now? Back to the Flourished Hook? The Seashank?” his mind wandering to the possibility of food.
Menace grins, and the falling gloom lends the toothy grin a strange aspect, reflecting in Menace’s black eyes – eager, expectant, hungry.
“Oh no my friend, we have another appointment. New friends to win, new contacts to make, new opportunities to explore…” he says, trailing off, as they walk toward New Town and the Countess’ manor.