"It sounds like a fine deal, and I'll get started on gathering the necessary things together. I'll start on the training proper tomorrow, and you can have payment delivered to Turaceo's old home. He had it in his last will to set up a adventurer's guild, so I signed up for it.
By the way, May I have a sip of that before I go? It's been a while since I had anything to drink aside from water, with proper alcohol being expensive as it is in a desert."
After all that has been done, Give the chief a firm handshake to seal the deal, and then set to work getting everything I need together. I have four things I will need: A training arena, the animals that I will use, a couple of training weapons, and of course the five soldiers i'm going to be working with. Not necessarily in that order, but it would be ideal.
(Small people really hate yoink in this game, without question.)
"Of course, of course!" The chief leans over and pours more of the dark liquor into Drubjarred's glass and then into his own, filling both up to the brim. "Good to see some people still have some appreciation for the traditional way of making an agreement." The two raise and clink their glasses before downing them with the quick ease of practiced alcoholics.
It's whiskey, and by Ronke standards it's very good whiskey. By dwarven standards it's enjoyable and drinkable, if a little sweet. Maybe a bit better than average if you award points for novelty.
Drubjarred and Chief Q. shake hands and exchange parting pleasantries, and the dwarf walks out of the office and back to the bustling street, pondering the as of yet unresearched logistics of his proposal.
1. A training arena - [5] You know just the places;
a. You remember reading through a brief floorplan of Turaco's house in the will. The place has a decently sized courtyard, a sprawling basement with a spacious central room, and a couple other large rooms. At the very least, the basement would be a good place to store the beasts and other equipment.
b. That bar you used to spend all of your time at, The Crazed Mustelid or whatever it was, right across from Turaco's place. They occasionally rolled out a large canvas tarp and had exhibition fight nights. They'd probably even pay you for the privilege of having the city guard fight beasts in their establishment.
c. There are a few other bars that you can think of that would probably be up for this. One of them that springs to mind is Grundig's Discount Weaponry or whatever they're calling themselves now. It's a total shithole. You could probably rope some of the clientele in if you were short on beasts.
d. You've got a drinking buddy who lives out on the southeast outskirts, down by the warrens. His name is Yrark, and he's a gnoll, but he's one of the good ones and is pretty chill by gnoll standards. He has a sort of improvised arena that he and his relatives brawl in for fun. On the one hand, things could get out of control fast. On the other, this whole thing could sort of double as a community outreach program. In a way.
e. There's gotta be somewhere else.
2. The animals you will use - [4] You've got a few things in mind already.
a. Yrark and his idiot cousins catch giant scorpions in in wooden cages. They're poisonous, but that's what razor sharp steel barb-covers are for.
b. Ogres live under the city. They used to be a pretty serious problem. They're mostly pacified now, but they're still down there, and they're still nightmarish.
c. Ronkeians have some sort of weird thing for giant ferrets. Ferret catchers catch them in the nearby hills and people breed them and keep them as pets. It's all very strange. They walk them on leashes, keep them in their houses, and sometimes even make them wear tiny shoes. They're far too expensive to justify using as arena fodder, but a strong and riled up one would be virtually impossible to wrestle successfully and therefor pretty much perfect for wrestling sessions.
d. There are weird things, way out in the desert. The further out you go, the stranger things get. There are giant sand crabs that lurk under the dunes. Things that resemble ambulatory cacti. Tumbleweeds that are rumored to congregate in flocks and move as if directed by an unseen hand. People disappear all the time.
e. Hire a monstrologist! Monstrology isn't really all that lucrative. It's considered pretty hard to use a degree in monstrology to get a job that isn't something like bartending or mustelid grooming or fast food. It'd probably be pretty cheap to hire one, and they'd know all sorts of weird shit like how to catch bholes with peanut butter.
3. The training weapons - [5] You saved a full set of wooden training weapons from Routedmansions. Sturdy dwarven construction, hardwood and virtually unbreakable, stored in a trunk that the proprietor of The Crazed Ferret is keeping in storage for you. The trunk also has two more sets of cloth armor, both dwarf sized, a few outfits, and some miscellaneous items that you don't carry around on you.
4. The guards that you're going to be training - [1] Should have asked about that before you left, huh? Should have got Chief Q's business card, maybe? Maybe even asked for a letter or a note promising you an audience? You don't have that paper that the lieutenant wrote for you. The chief has that paper. Hmm. HMMMM.
Scarlet had been unable to take her eyes off the gaudily dressed man from the moment she first saw him. Doubtless, he must be a kind nobleman who had committed many heroic deeds, for, in all the dramas she had performed, villains and common folk never had such bright and rich costumes. His attacker then, must an assassin sent by the nobleman's scheming rival. Scarlet can't allow such an honorable man to suffer such treachery, nor can she allow such a dramatic scene to suffer her absence.
"Villain! Unhand that good fellow at once!"
Scarlet runs towards the scuffle and dumps her cup of tea on the gnome's face.
Jalak stumbles forward a step before whirling around to behold his assailant, sliding to the floor in all their hideous glory.
"What is it with you short types today," he mutters after a second, mostly to himself as one brightly jade-coloured cowboy boot instinctively makes its way to the prone attacker's neck, almost of its own volition, "Are you jealous of my height, or what?"
He casts a quick glance around to gauge the mood in the bar and how likely the situation was to devolve into a brawl.
Surely, even with the apple of his eye screeching so incessantly (does she sound anything like a weasel?), such a brief scuffle wouldn't be too noticeable in a place like thi-
Jalak turns to stare wide-eyed at the rapidly-approaching woman, tensed and ready to dive out of the way. It only occurs to him after a worried moment that "villain" might actually refer to the gnome he's currently standing on. That's... a welcome change, really. Seeing one's name on a sternly-worded wanted poster tends to shake one's worldview a bit. Still a somewhat concerning development, though.
Let my assailant fall to the floor, then surreptitiously step on its windpipe. Put my weight on it as I take a look around- how violent is the crowd?
Moreso than usual? Are they approaching me or arming themselves at all?
Step hurriedly backwards if a certain acrobat rushes over to launch a beverage-based attack on the downed imp.
Try and keep my fancy boots out of harm's way whilst observing this strange sight. Also try to keep myself out of harm's way if further violence should occur.
Manlets. When will they learn?
"Villain! Unhand that good fellow at once!" All eyes turn to the female acrobat a few tables away who casts aside her cloak with a dramatic flourish and dashes towards the scuffle.
Jalak turns and [4] scuttles back just in time to avoid [1] the flamboyantly angry performer, who furiously splashes her hot tea all over the obtunded pygmy. [5] With a groan, the tiny thug seems to shake back awake, startled to life by having tea splashed on his face. He grimaces angrily, his hideous face twisted into a rictus of hatred. Like virtually all halflings, he closely resembles the human version of a pug dog. His wild eyes are bulging, brachycephalic face dominated by a jutting prognathic mandible and tiny yellow teeth that stick up at all angles.
[6] Anonymous Guttertrash
[3+1] Scarlet Skydance
[4] The Camel
The small criminal twists and a blade flashes in the dim light, Scarlet dodging smoothly backwards just in time to avoid its sweeping path. The gnome is thrown off balance by his telegraphed slash, and Jalak takes the opportunity to step forward and plant his emerald boot hard on the thug's neck, pressing down with a muffled wet crunch. The halfing's face turns purple and his already wide eyes bulge even more, thick veins standing out on his skin as he claws with fading strength at the crest of Jalak's ludicrously fabulous boots. He's still holding a knife, but is in an awkward position to use it.
Scarlet: [+1 EXP!]Jalak: [+1 EXP!]Most people at nearby tables are watching the scene unfold. A couple are standing with weapons drawn but lowered, and there is a murmur of relief mingled with disappointment that nothing truly unusual or exciting is going on. Several patrons are staring intensely at Scarlet with mostly surprised expressions. The table that the group is adjacent to is occupied by three heavily armed men who are very awkwardly trying [2] to not make eye contact with Jalak.
Wait a minute. Jalak knows these guys. It's Osuttasue-Uhasab, Tesen, and Minos Maxos, from his old bandit crew. Minos Maxos coughs a little and sort of turns his ugly cow-mask like he doesn't see Jalak.
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Topic: Turaco's Sellswords RTD: Turn 17: I Guess This Counts As Taking Casualties (Read 27936 times)