[Game Thread] Solo RP: The Tale of Dr. Thorrel Warzick

[TheDrakemund]

Here begins a story of a Dr. Thorrel Warzick.

Cragthorn.

There is a new and unique silence about it's martial port, eerily pale and motionless from even a short watery distance. The small supply ship on which you, Dr. Thorrel Warzick, found passage from the mainland slides slowly to halt, ropes being tossed and tied to keep it stationary. A horse stirs in the stable at the nearby end of the docks. It stamps at frozen stone and the air is still, longing for sounds of life to fill it. The horse falls back into cold calmness.
It was barely autumn, though it seemed the heart of winter with all the northern frost and the sun's hiding behind clouds mattering not as the land remained lit in plenty.

Two soldiers make their rounds along the docks, eyeing the small ship of unfamiliar demons with frostbitten suspicion. Content with the sailors' lack of energy and weapons in their preparations to disembark, the two armored lads walked on, eager to return to the fireplace of the barracks.

A small figure stands unmoving atop the snow-dusted street just beyond the boards as if he was part of a picture meant to be painted. It's a young child of five. He watches the ship with curiosity. He waits, but for what? But what does seek? But for why? But for a break in lonesome monotony.

The stone shops and houses behind the boy seem tired under their poorly kept weight.

"The able-bodied have left the waterfront, shipped off to be trained in the arts of war," as had been shared with you by the self-proclaimed 'master star-watcher' of the ship who was quite blind and deathly old. "Aella wants her godsforsaken war, and the High King seems eager to serve it to her on a platter. We and all our future are lost if she asks for seconds." He had shaken his head and sightlessly stumbled over to the bow of the ship where he had remained--and still stood without a shiver--for the last hour of the journey. "Watch the wanderer," he had been mumbling over and over again with peculiar disappointment, few silent moments in-between.

"Watch the wanderer."

A tired and warry member of the crew nervously shouted over to you that you were very free to leave since you'd apparently paid enough upfront.

[ThatMusicWriter]

[[On my character sheet I have his prepared mutagen marked.]]
I get off of the ship and look about. I had expected this hold to be a tad more vibrant. But then again, military bases can be dreary if they have as many unhappy people as this particular place.
I walk over to the boy in the street to see if I can get a better idea of how things work in this hold. "Hello," I say with a smile. "I am a merchant looking to sell some items of my trade; do you know where the square is?"

[TheDrakemund]

OOC How, in somewhat more descriptive terms, has his mutagen manifested? I only ask so that NPC's might react more appropriately.

The boy blinked stupidly at him with a moment. "The square...?" He glanced back at the street that led deeper into the quiet town. Turning his head back to you, he spoke with almost childish caution, "I'll take you there and where ever else in exchange for some bread?" He rubbed at some snot running from his red nose.

[ThatMusicWriter]

Originally Posted by TheDrakemund

OOC He becomes larger, a few inches taller (although he hunches a little, so overall height remains the same), and his veins pop a little, although his face remains the same.

I smile and extend my hand. "Gladly," I reply. "By the way, my name is Dr. Thorrel Warzick; what is yours?"

[TheDrakemund]

OOC Gotcha.

With a touch of hesitation, the boy grabbed your hand with his freezing one and shook it. "Sam." Scratching at the base of one of his small horns that marked him as a Tiefling, Sam started in the direction of the square. "Lots of strangers today," he commented.

[ThatMusicWriter]

I shrugged. "I would not know," I replied. "Although I can't say I am too fond of large groups of strangers either."

[TheDrakemund]

Sam shook his head. "This one gave us a fright though with his silver hair and odd eyes. Made a ruckus, he did, with his piece of paper, and the guards beat him bloody for it." The boy looked back at you with brown eyes. "Don't do the same," he advised while leading you along the street's edge and around a gentle bend. "And here we are." He stopped once the space opened up before them, it's stalls mostly abandoned saved for that of a fisherman, livestock seller, candle-maker, and few others farther back. One seemed to be selling some swords and armor. "Most of them left for the mainland, but we still have a couple of shops here and there if this ain't what you're looking for..."

[ThatMusicWriter]

OOC What about a bakery? I need to get this kid some bread.

I raised my eyebrow at his mention of the strange man, remembering what the daft fool on the ship had said. "Do you know anything about the man you mentioned?" I said, as I approached a merchant and bought a loaf.

[TheDrakemund]

OOC For the sake of saving time: yes, I suppose a bread vendor could be available in the square. xD

Without a word or care, the old woman at the stall handed over a cold loaf in exchange for two coppers.

"He had black marks on his skin like burns maybe...?" The boy swayed as he struggled for a word and gasped when he found it. "Ah! Tattoos they're called! Like sailors sometimes got." He stretched out his hand for the bread in an impatient manner.

[ThatMusicWriter]

I chuckled, handing him the loaf. "You seem to know your way around the town, little man," I said, handing him the loaf. "If you can get me some more information on this tattooed fellow, I'll be happy to give you a silver piece."

[TheDrakemund]

Gripping the bread in one hand, Sam saluted you with the other and puffed out his cheeks in a most comical mockery of the town guards. "You want me ta show you anywhere else, before I go asking around?"

[ThatMusicWriter]

"No, that's quite sufficient," I replied. "Happy hunting."
And with that, I looked around to see if any merchants selling alchemical items to whom I could sell some acid or alchemists' fire.

[TheDrakemund]

The boy scurried off on his quest.

There were no vendors dealing in or buying such products out in the square, but at the far end of the space there was a stone building marked with a sign depicting a mortar and pestle.

[ThatMusicWriter]

I walked to the building bearing such marks, greatly fearing that there were people in this town who couldn't make a sign with words on it, and opened the door to see what sight might greet me.

[TheDrakemund]

Upon opening the door, you are hit with the strong smell of various herbs and freshly brewed concoctions. Luckily, the scent in not so unpleasant. Various jars of medicine and the like line the shelves of the shop, kept full buy the lack of local costumers. A heavy Tiefling chap sat on a stool behind the counter as he flipped through the pages of a heavy volume bound in once fine leather. Slowly he gave his own browsing a rest and looked up to ask about yours. "Welcome to Aer Fixus. How may I help you..?" He subconsciously scratched at a scar on his jaw as he noted your lack of horns.