The Firstborn — IC

[ratwizard]

Cymril gives the other woman an uncomfortable, but knowing look. "Trading goods without following the Rule of the Clan," she says to Sisera.

[Scratcherclaw]

Curious as to what stuck out as being strange, Aeron asks the orcish father, "What do you mean by he seemed off? How was he acting?" Maybe that can shed some light on the kind of trouble he's in.

[Fialova]

"Okay," Sisera responds, with a slight smile and a polite nod. Despite her thankfulness for the response, she feels more confused than before. These orcs have rules about trading? 'Only 5 sheep per horse' perhaps? A strange custom. She decides to hold her tongue for the time being, figuring she can ask more questions about the situation after the inquiries with the father are made.

[TheZoar]

Hearing Vaylen's question in the middle of this conversation Erevan simply shrugs his shoulders and gives Vaylen a look that says I don't know. As Sisera asks her question about smuggling Erevan begins to realize just how different she is. Not in a bad way or anything like that, just that there will probably be many things that will have to be explained to her. Hmm, I need to pay mind to how I say things around her and at least try to make sure we can all understand what each other is saying.

[Namelessjake]

A the mention of smuggling, Alierin's attention is piqued and she leans forward to better hear the orc and Aeron's conversation. I might even know a few of the people involved, she muses, a city's smuggling scene tended to feed into the rest of its criminal underworld.

[ratwizard]

"Worried. Not like himself," Beamon explains. "The thing you got to know about my boy is that he's a real piece of work. Haughty. Always has that damned smirk on his face. 'Cept that night. He looked pale." The orc shrugs, making an unsure face.

[Scratcherclaw]

"Perhaps he had his own doubts but was in too deep," the elf responds to the concerned father, recognizing that his son's behavior was well out of typical character. "Is there anything else important you could tell us?" he asks, hoping to get underway with the first job. Turning his head towards his companions, he adds, "Or do any of the rest of you have any questions you'd like to ask?"

[ratwizard]

"Doesn't look like it," Cymril says to Aeron after a moment. With a softer voice, "We should probably get going. We've got plans, remember?"

"If you find him," Beamon cuts in as you turn to leave, his voice cracking. "Tell him his pa misses him." He shakes his head, wiping a drooping tear away. "He's my firstborn. He makes me angrier than I've ever been, but I love him."

The orc looks up to Aeron, his face one of shame and worry. "Please find him."

[Fialova]

Sisera feels for the man, and though her instincts tell her to give her a hug and tell him things will be alright, she knows that it would probably come out sounding too harsh with her lack of Kurnish knowledge, and she has no idea how an orc would react to being hugged. Instead, she saves her concern and gives the man a forced smile.

Once outside, Sisera turns to Aeron and the others. "We must help, you can see that he yn gofalu am ei fab yn wirioneddol ac yn drafferthus iawn, mae hyn yn amlwg yn bwysicach na gwylio peth cargo am ryw. Bydd swyddi eraill i wylio pobl i ddadlwytho blychau yn ddiweddarach," she pleads one more, unintentionally slipping in to elven out of passion.

[sblock=Elven Translation]...truly cares for his son and is deeply troubled, this is clearly more important than watching some cargo for awhile. There will be other jobs to watches people unload boxes later on,"[/sblock]

[Scratcherclaw]

"Of course," Aeron replies to the concerned father. "We'll find your boy," he adds before the group steps away. Maybe this'll be enough to sway the others on the importance of this job over the security gig.

As the Quellam-native pleads her own case towards the job, he nods at her elven words. "Exactly," he replies in simple Kurnish. Wanting the woman, and the others, to fully understand him, he says in his elven tongue, "Mae hyn yn ymwneud â mwy na darn arian. Mae hyn yn ymwneud â bywyd neu farwolaeth. Dywedwn ein bod yn gwneud y gwaith diogelwch ac yn methu â achub ei fab. Mae gennym rywfaint o arian parod i'w rannu rhyngom ni, ac mae gennym dad anhygoel na fyddwn yn rhoi unrhyw fath o eiriau da i ni. Os byddwn ni'n dod o hyd i'r mab yn gyflym, yna, a dim ond wedyn, a ddylem wneud y swydd arall hon."

[sblock=Elven Translation]"This is about more than coin. This is about life or death. Let's say we do the security job and fail to save his son. We have some meager coin to split between us, and we have a distraught father who won't put in any kind of good word for us. If we find the son quickly, then, and only then, should we do this other job."[/sblock]

[Namelessjake]

Alierin lets out a small sigh as Aeron and Sisera's words convince her. She gives the Orc a curt smile and nod, as Aeron agrees with him they will find his son.

"Byddai'r darn arian wedi bod yn braf, ond mae'n bendant yr opsiwn gwell yn meddwl yn y tymor hir. Heblaw, nid wyf yn meddwl bod unrhyw un ohonom mewn angen rhy ddirfawr o'r arian. Gallwn fforddio aros am ychydig..." She says, continuing the conversation in Elven. She pauses for a second before she decides to add something else, turning to Aeron in particular.

"Wedi dweud hynny, ni allwn helpu pawb allan o ddaion ein calonnau. Weithiau bydd yn rhaid i ni ddewis y swyddi sy'n ein talu mewn gwirionedd, neu beth yw pwynt hyn?" She asks rhetorically.

[sblock=Eleven Translation]"The coin would have been nice, but it's definitely the better option thinking long term. Besides I don't think any of us are in too dire need of the money. We can afford to wait a while..."

"That said, we can't help everyone out of the goodness of our hearts. Sometimes we are going to have to choose the jobs that actually pay us, otherwise what's the point of this?"[/sblock]

[TheZoar]

Listening intently to all the talk about the importance of this job and how money is not vital at the moment Erevan nods affirmingly when given any questioning looks. I don't really care either way how we handle this honestly, I just want something different than my workshop for a small change. I mean hey if we can get a roguish lookin girl to want to help a father and son this must be the right choice. He thinks to himself with a smirk.

[Scratcherclaw]

Aeron sighs at his former lover's final comment, knowing it to be partially true, though not wanting to admit it. Returning to the orcish tongue as he leads the group toward the docks, he remarks, "Renown, I guess. A network of powerful and rich people who want our help. But enough of future jobs when we should put our full energy into the one at hand."

[ratwizard]

You step along the boardwalk, discussing the intent of your decisions in low voices. It isn't long before the recently-constructed and well-maintained docks give way to ones that are not.

The Southward Docks, as you've heard or seen, were partially destroyed during the war, not more than two decades ago. What remains are many improvised piers, with poorly made shanties lining their mouths -- a den of constant smuggling and rough personalities. You feel safer, however, walking in a large pack.

"We're looking for a Kiros," Cymril reminds you.

[Vaylen]

Vaylen, at Alierin's comment, nods in agreement. As Vaylen walks he halfheartedly looks around but doesn't really give it any effort. Ya, I guess we don't need the money, but I agree that we can't just help people. This ain't a charity, and we are not heroes. And as Alierin said, we can't help people if we're broke. Looks like I will have to get used to doing some pity work though, these seem like good people caring people (for the most part). A trait I wish I had..

[Fialova]

Sisera wanders along with the others, looking around in a combination of awe and confusion. She'd not really been to the docks since her ship first landed a few months prior, and had certainly never managed to visit this more run-down section of it in the past. Why do people choose to live like this? Do they not have open fields to live in? This is disgusting.

[Namelessjake]

Not wholly unfamiliar with the area, like some of the group, Alierin racks her brain trying to think of where and who would be best to ask around about the Kiros.

[sblock=Mechanics]Streetwise to find place/people who might know about Kiros 17(1d20) +10 = 27[/sblock]

[Scratcherclaw]

"Aye," Aeron replies to his cousin as they approach the dilapidated docks. "We should be careful not to raise too much suspicion though. Last thing we want is for him to know we're coming and hide." Not familiar with the area by any means, the ambitious elf hesitates for a moment, not wanting to make the first move.

[ratwizard]

Cymril nods to her cousin in agreement. "And that's assuming he would hide, not try and ambush us."

[sblock=Alierin]You've not heard of Kiros, but if there is anyone who knows anyone in this district, it is a drunk, old orc named Yakoa. He's rumored to have lived for decades in these docks, and you've not seen an orc as aged as he.

The old man is typically begging outside of one of the two seedy pubs that surround the area, named the Kodrahl Misthouse and the Tacked Barrel.[/sblock]

[Namelessjake]

"There's a begger around here who might know something. He's usually got his ear to the ground," Alierin says to the rest of the party. "He's normally outside a couple of pubs, so I say we start there. If he's not around the pubs will be a good place to ask around," she says starting to lead the group in the direction of the closest of the two pubs.

[Fialova]

Sisera nods and follows behind Alierin, not having much else to contribute at the moment. Hopefully this group does not get distracted by the pubs. They do seem to like the drinks.

[TheZoar]

"So how exactly are we planning on searching around asking for this boy without looking like a bunch of elves with a bone to pick?" Erevan ponders this as they walk hoping someone has a brilliant idea. "Maybe we could pose as a group looking for a stealthy orc for a special job or something of the sort? He says in a questioning fashion looking around the group to see what they think.

[ratwizard]

"I didn't even think of how troubling we might seem to be looking in a group this large," Cymril says, her eyes wide. She shrugs. "Maybe it's better that way. That way nobody gives us any problems."

[sblock=OOC]Pick a pub per Jake's last sblock -- both are close[/sblock]

[Scratcherclaw]

Aeron shrugs at the carpenter's question, replying, "We could always just be honest and friendly about our intentions. But we shouldn't act tough and threatening unless needed." Looking over his group of imposing elves, he adds, "Whatever we do, we'll be seen as representatives of our people, so we should act like it." If we cause trouble, that'll only give the bigots of this city some leverage... I can't let that happen.

[sblock=OOC]Let's visit the Tacked Barrel first[/sblock]

[ratwizard]

The musty, damp air clings to your skin as you follow Alierin deeper into the district. It isn't but a few minutes before you reach the Tacked Barrel, its ragged exterior adorned with barrel lids nailed firmly along the edge of the rooves, forming eaves. Outside a pair of orcs idly peer your way as they pass a pipe back and forth, toking some sort of resin.

An old man sits against against the wall near the door, nursing the dregs of an almost-empty bottle like an infant.

"This... is my kind of bar," Cymril says with a smile. "Rough and rowdy, looks like it."

[sblock=Alierin]You recognize Yakoa immediately.[/sblock]

[Fialova]

The things these creatures put into their bodies, Sisera thinks, as she witnesses the orcs outside of the pub, smoking and drinking the night away. I guess when you don't need to tend to you herd there is no reason to keep a clear head. She looks to Alierin, wondering if the one who led them there would be entering first or making them go ahead.

[Namelessjake]

"That's the guy I was talking about," Alierin says, nodding subtly towards Yakoa. "Too many of us my scare him. I'll go see what he knows, why don't you check ask around inside?" She suggests before heading towards Yakoa.

"Yakoa." she says giving the orc a nod in greeting as she approaches. "Thirsty?" she asks, pointing to his bottle, deciding the quickest way to see if he knows anything will be to buy him a drink.

[Scratcherclaw]

Aeron is relieved as Alierin immediately recognizes the orcish drunkard she had mentioned, realizing they don't have the time to waste running between bars. Nodding to her, he gestures for others to follow him inside. "Let's ask around and see what we can find out then. But no drinking. We've got a job to do."

Eager to see the rustic bar from the inside, the elf steps inside, hoping some of his companions follow behind.

[ratwizard]

As Alierin approaches the old man, she realizes he is half asleep. It isn't until her question that he cocks his head toward her in a swooping gesture. "Thirsty? Suppose I am," Yakoa says with a grin. "I seen you around these parts before, elf lady. Why have you come to good Yakoa tonight, hm?"

For Aeron and any others that venture into the Tacked Barrel, you find yourself in one of the most run down pubs that you've seen in Groznid. The air is moist with sweat, fermentation, and a uniquely sweet scent that reminds you of mint-leaf.

There is a long bar to your left, where two orcish women in common garb sit several seats apart from each other, sipping at their ale. A tall, lanky orcish man wipes down a flagon with an offwhite cloth as you step in, and he squints your way with mild interest. "Welcome," he mutters, returning to his duties. To the right are a few small tables and booths. A young orcish man sits alone, reading some sort of heavy tome by candlelight.

[Namelessjake]

"I'm looking for someone," Alierin replies to Yakoa. "Goes by the name Kiros," she adds, pausing slightly trying to gauge the Orc's reaction to the name.

"Would you have any relevant foggy memories that an ale might sharpen?" She asks, raising an eyebrow.

[TheZoar]

Erevan steps into the tavern and surveys the inside. As Alieren begins speaking with the orcish man who she seems to know already, Erevan finds an empty table a little ways away and sits down to watch. As he listens he pulls out a small piece of wood and carving knife from his cloak pocket and begins slowly working on it.

[ratwizard]

"Kiros, eh? I know that name. Bottle of wine would bring me mind there, better."

Inside, the bartender eyes Erevan for a moment, setting his flagon down and stepping over. "What can I get ya?" he asks quietly, a bored look on his face.

[Fialova]

Sisera winces initially at the foul scent of the pub, though the shock quickly turns to a slight bit of nostalgia. The smell of sweat reminds her of her days back in her homeland, relaxing with fellow hunters after a long ride in the steppes. She gives a slight smile before surveying the room.

Not desiring to drink, nor to discuss drinking, she figures her best course of action would be the man reading. I may not know his language well, but perhaps he will humor me. She approaches the younger orc and points to the seat opposite him. "I sit?" she asks, trying to be as polite as possible.

[Scratcherclaw]

Seeing that the inside of the bar is not particularly bustling with activity, Aeron sighs, knowing information will be limited. Eyeing his Quellam-born companion join an orc at a table, the man leans against the wall nearby. Someone's got to jump in if things go wrong. She's not known for a deft tongue in Kurnish after all.

[ratwizard]

The young man looks up at Sisera, his dark eyes squinting at her face through the dimness. "You sit," he finally says, gesturing with a respectful nod. He looks down at his book again, his eyes flitting across the page. He glances her way, though he says nothing.

[Fialova]

Sisera gives the man a smile and takes a seat. "Is good book?" she asks, hoping that perhaps interacting with a learned orc would help her gain a bit more knowledge about the strange people she now lives with. I wonder if he reads here often. Maybe he knows the patrons here.

[Namelessjake]

"Don't go anywhere," Alierin replies to Yakoa, as she walks off, heading inside the tavern.

She scans the room, seeing what her companions are up to as she makes her way to the bar. Reaching the bar, she leans against it and catches the attention of the bartender as he asks Erevan for his order.

"A bottle of your cheapest wine for me," She butts in, before Erevan can order, rummaging around in her pockets for coins.

[Scratcherclaw]

With the bookish orc not being too chatty, Aeron sighs, both out of boredom and relief. No information but at least Sisera may not say anything too wrong. His eyes glance over to the sight of Alierin rushing in and requesting a bottle of wine. This Yakoa must be thirsty tonight. But if that's what it takes.

[ratwizard]

"I hope so," the seated orc says, peering up at Sisera. "I wrote it, after all." He takes a pull from his mug, wiping his face with a handkerchief from his waist pouch.

"That'll be a silver," the bartender says, placing the bottle on the bartop in front of Alierin. It is unmarked, and appears to be a dark red.

[Fialova]

"Ah," Sisera says with a nod. "Very smart," she adds with a slight smile. A man who writes such large books must be very knowledgeable. Hopefully the knowledge is useful, and not about something like history or art. "What about?" she asks, intrigued.

[Namelessjake]

"Here," Alierin says, grabbing a silver from her pocket at flicking it at the bartender. She grabs the bottle by the neck and heads back outside.

"So, what can you tell me about Kiros?" She asks Yakoa. Holding the bottle of wine just out of his arms reach, ready to pull it further away if he grabs for it.

[ratwizard]

"Kiros, eh?" Yakoa sniffs the air, scratching the bristly, aging skin under his chin. "Rum-runner. Well, rum and other commodities. Don't have much respect for the Clan, he don't. But hey — how else you gonna make yourself rich in this part of town?" He takes a long pull from the shitty wine, hardly seeming to notice its quality.

Inside, the seated orc looks up again at Sisera, intrigued by her interest. "It is... the story of the spirits. Our spirits," he clarifies, patting the table softly. "My people are not usually the type to document such things. We often live in the moment, following the spirits around us in a visceral manner." He raises his book for emphasis. "I've worked on this for six years now. Six years. I just... hope it hasn't been for nothing."

[Namelessjake]

"You tell me," Alierin quips at Yakoa's rhetorical question, thinking of their own current attempt at making money. "Where can I find him? Does he have a warehouse or something?" She asks, digging for more useful information.

[Fialova]

"Ah, spirits. Like those?" she says, pointing to one of the drinks being carried across the room by one of the bar's patrons. I knew these orcs liked to enjoy these drinks, but to follow them around? And write books about them? Very strange. Perhaps they are more important than I realized.

[ratwizard]

Yakoa cocks his head back, taking another pull from his drink, nodding. "Mm. Sorta. Rents it time to time from that logging group down-pier from us. Ramjan Lumber."

The name rings a bell for you. The logging warehouse is a bit of a walk through the district, and likely though some difficult territory at night.

Inside, the seated orc snaps his head toward Sisera's gesture. "What? Oh. No," he chuckles, looking back at her with an friendly smile. "Our spirits. The ones who were here before us, and the same that will be here after we are gone. They exist in many forms — the seas, the beasts, the trees and vines." He narrows his eyes curiously at you. "Do your people follow spirits of your own? I've never asked."

[Namelessjake]

"Well thank you. Enjoy the wine," Alierin says, giving the Orc a curt nod before heading back inside. In the tavern, she scans the room before walking over to the largest congregation of the group. "Hey. So I've got a potential location for Kiros," she says. "It's probably not the best place to go looking around at this time of night, but that's up to you guys."

[Fialova]

"We hide," Sisera responds, after moments of contemplation. I am not sure what these 'spirits' are, but they sound nothing like the gods. Perhaps they are very small? "Our... spirits... eat us."

[Scratcherclaw]

Aeron is relieved when Alierin returns, hoping she got the information they were looking for. Upon hearing that Kiros could be found in a less-than-ideal part of town, he replies, "It's the only lead we've got. If things go south, I'm sure we can handle ourselves."

[ratwizard]

Cymril nods at Aeron's comment. "I know we can handle ourselves."

Nearby, the seated orc stares at Sisera with a look of horror. "They... eat you? What?" He narrows his eyes. "You're jesting, aren't you? Or... do you mean that on a figurative level?"

[Fialova]

"Yes, eat us," Sisera responds, moving her arms apart to suggest something larger than herself. "Spirits big, very hungry. Eat us, so we hide. Don't like to be eaten. Hear of other land, come here. Now we are more safe." She eyes the man with her usual serious demeanor, surprised that such a learned man is so unaware of the nature of her homeland. Did the others who arrived before me never share tales of the old world with the orcs? We'd not have ventured all this way without good reason.