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Gordak sees nothing to speak of in the alleyway, save the general sense that he is an outsider in this place. The man leans in a shadow and speaks. "I do not know that you are much better than a kidnapper yourself. But I do not think you are worse. I know of such a thing. An orphan, who has never been able to keep much in the way of posessions for herself, though she is old enough to work, and very capable." He sighs, glancing about. "I think you will find her well-suited to your purpose, and I am sure she will find you well-suited to hers. All I ask is that you allow me to speak to her in private before you abscond to whatever treacherous peril has enticed a man of the hill tribes to Gathis. Do you give me your word?" He leans against the alley at surprising ease, a great sadness about his eyes.
@rush99999
I'll probably run that by noting the presence of writing but not what it says, and you'll need to actively read it.
Finding such an enclave is not so easy to one new to the city. Most blighted in formal employment live in the houses of their masters, or in dormitories on their masters' property. However, it is not so hard to find where the poor of the city live together with one another - in the south of the city, beyond the warehouse district - and from there the Blighted can be found. Indeed, they can be.
In among the shacks of the Gathis slums, there stands a hall, built of huge mud bricks that would be difficult for an ordinary human to shape and carry. Inside the structure, outside the doors, a group of people wearing long, gently falling headdress of charcoal grey kneel and weep. Inside the doors, music sounds in a strange language, a hauntingly beautiful voice that sounds like it must be something beyond mere sound alternating with a great cry of many voices.
Here, passers-by look at Gardak with a strange mixture of fear, scorn, and pity. The likeliest person for Gordak's inquiry does not, as it happens, appear to be Blighted at all. He has a slight build, coppery complexion, and unusually close-cropped hair. He wears a sable caftan. "You're not likely to find many friends around here by asking questions like that. Everyone knows what you're about, and it sweetens it none to dress it up as concern. Still, I think I can help you, but let's not talk of such things here, not before they are accomplished."
He turns to go, heading towards a dim alleyway to the West, where he waits. A test of Gordak's trust, and a refuge from the shadow of the Bleeding God's Assembly-Hall.
@rush99999
Do you think Gordak is literate?
To kill a slaveowner does not emancipate the slave - if the enslavement is lawful. In Llaigis, where the sword is two thirds of the law, many are not. Even still, most would be very much missed, even in the city, as to keep a slave requires some measure of good position, and those slaveowners who are not well to do tend to be cornerstones of their communities. However, if a community of blighted knows of a kidnapper, such a man would be a very good target, and the victim might very well be willing to join the cause of their liberator.


@rush99999
I'm not sure. Either I'll just decide by fiat when you want to take some such action, or I will say that, whenever a character gains renown, the "session" resets for that character, for the purpose of such rules. Alternatively I could note when I think the "session" changes, in the case of downtime.
A man approaches Gordak as he passes through the gates, saying "Sir! You will be needing lodgings and comfort in town. My master, Juras, his house is as fine as any palace and his wine more blissful. It will only cost you a small purseful of silver for the week, and you need not go elsewhere for pleasure!" Another calls out, advertising the stables and armed guard of his own master's house. Flesh turns on the spit in the courtyard immediately south of the square. Two buildings empty on to it, with people coming and going, and what must have once been a garden is barren. People of all kinds are idling about, some eating, some drinking, and some doing neither and beggars kneel a few yards away from the entrance.


@rush99999

First post done! I've left it somewhat open-ended for you. Feel free to ask for any more detail, or things you think you might already know about Gathis.
The air moves languidly, hot, and humid upon the grasslands of central Llaigis, where the city of Gathis rises, just a little higher than the other scattered hills that it surveys. It is the late afternoon, and the sun beats down in the face of any traveller who treads the dusty once-paved road that approaches it from the northeast. Scattered camps surround the old, rough-hewn stone walls, with their round tents and staked horses.
Towers dot the city, here and there, with different shapes to suit their different purposes. In the centre, north of the great road that runs through the city there rises a lone hill, taller than its peers, with a second wall about it.
The northeastern gate stands wide open, manned by seven men in chain shirts over maroon tunics, and an eighth in scale armour, with a maroon cloak over his left arm. Men-at-arms come and go freely, and merchants are seldom stopped. Off to the side, there is a lone permanent building outside the walls.
Inside the city, the smell of sweat and blood is everywhere. Men and animals move this way and that, to important things and to frivolous things. In the near distance, a man can be seen carried on a palanquin, north. To either side of what was once the Emed-Dar Road, there are inn-houses, courtyard-taverns, petty temples, and guild-halls. Beyond them is a maze of streets and alleyways, some paved, and some unpaved, and all filled with activity, with the exchange of goods and of flesh and of steel.
@rush99999
OK. I'm writing the intro post now. I had hoped we'd have at least one other player by now, and other players are of course always welcome to join. Just to check, does it sound good to you to start off with your character entering Gathis for the first time, or returning for the first time since setting out on your own?
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