[Continues] Morcrux Campaign: Tale of Two Scales

Grimoire

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History

The World of Morcrux was once a lush and beautiful world of non-magical beings living in harmony with the Celestial Gods that roamed the Physical Plane. The world had hope, a paradise of Eden safeguarded away by the Celestial Gods and places of worship flourished. Every creature believed in their gods with absolute devotion and their faith was rewarded. The weak were made strong, the feeble were imbued to be hardy, the simple grew smarter, the sicknesses of their lives healed through worship.

But this peace would not last forever.

For an unfathomable horror lurked from beyond the Ethereal Plane, a dimension that linked the universe to the unknown Primordial Abyss.

The Heralds of the Dark Gospel.

Cosmic horrors, twisted shapes of flesh, bone and metal wrapped by the abyss, ungodly power capable of instilling fear into the Celestial Gods. These beings of evil ripped the universe apart the unified dimension and splitting them into different levels of existence at their mere presence. The Celestial Gods, spurred into action, waged an eternal war against the Dark Gospel. But in the end, they were no match for their alien powers and flying machinations fueled by malice and pain. The Celestial Gods were defeated with their numbers lessed with each conflict bringing them to the edge of extinction.

Morcrux suffered the worse of this offense. The Heralds of the Dark Gospel, fueled by the petty lives of the peaceful creatures, transformed them into abominations, slaves to their dark master's and used against their once beloved makers. The Celestial Gods were no match for them, they fled. Locking themselves in Paradiso, a dimension created by the Almighty Creator God, the Celestial Gods were protected. But in their absence, evil had taken root across the Ethereal Planes and spilling into the Physical Plane of Morcrux.

Living their lives as slaves and monsters doing the bidding of their dark masters, the creatures of Morcrux were scarred, tortured, segregated, and wrought with such deep pain and malice, the world became inhospitable to all life. It is by chance something was born from this madness: Magic!

In their infancy, the creatures of Morcrux were discovered to have been born with an affinity to a life fueled energy commonly used by the abominable evil to keep their slaves in check. As centuries turn to thousands of years later, the people of Morcrux were awaken.

Magic had renewed the hope of Morcrux and inspired the Celestial Gods that remained to act. Enraged, boldened by the gods at their backs, lead by a mortal welding incredible power, the Dark Gospel were pushed back. Morcrux had gained an upperhand. The Dark Gospel were pressed beyond the Ethereal Planes and back through the Primordial Abyss from once they came. Sealing the dimension with Celestial Wards, the evil had been sealed away ... Forever.

Millennium later, the hero became the Luminous One, a living God in mortal flesh. But then, they vanished. The world was at peace and they were longer needed. The world experienced a new found freedom they've never seen before. A time of discovery and intrigue had replaced fear, horror and malice. Magic became a normal thing in their every day lives and what was left of their existence slowly returned into the fold.

Like all good things in this world, this peace was a mere breath in a long bloody history that will soon follow shortly after. War, pestilence, famine and death erupted into an already chaotic reality. The mortals fought amongst themselves in efforts to lay claim what was once free to all. Greed, selfishness and hatred had taken place in their hearts. The reality created by the Almighty Creator God had been poisoned by the presence of Dark Gospel. This poison had turned to grief and sorrow in the eyes of the Celestial Gods. They could no longer recognize their creations, so twisted by the corruption and influence of the Dark Gospel. The Gods stopped listening. Few gods ever hear the voices of their creations, but faith and devotion has clung to the few gods that remained hopeful or stubborn.

The imperial year is 775, on the continent of Norm. Life had evolved from simple creatures hunting and gathering for their keep to civilizations of industry and domestication. Leaderships born from tradition, new creatures becoming a unified people, cultures old and new existing together in this brand new world. The world is still as dangerous and conflicted, however, the peace is merely a mask for what lies beneath it.

As a new generation begins, new problems and solutions are created. As two empires fight for supremacy, others fight to simply for their survival.

As our story begins within the Providence of Shurifon, an empire at war with their nemesis, Fjornia. An unlikely duo will embark upon a journey that will change their lives (and their worlds) forever.
 
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Grimoire

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Setting

In the Providence of Zhao, the largest of the Shurifon Dynasty's lands, the people live in a dark, gloomy, gritty life as residences of a criminal paradise. Encompassing the western coastline, a swampland and the solid barren wastes in between, Zhao is a harsh place to live.

Lizardfolk, tribals and nomadic, are always on the hunt for fresh prey. Cannibalistic, insatiable desire, and brutish needs, the Lizardfolk prey on those that date venture into their swamplands. Strength in numbers wins the day, women win the wars, victory is celebrating with food, drink and sex. There is no simplier life than that of the Lizardfolk for they have less comprehension of the greater feelings of other races. Intelligence is not their strong suit and knowledge of magic is both feared and respected.

The Shurifon Elves that rule over these lands seldom travel through the swamplands, only the crazy and derange dare to do so. Sticking to their walled cities and enclaves of beautifully (Chinese) styled homes and businesses, these particular race of Elves enjoy a life of abundance and excess. Hedonism and narcissistic, Shurifon Elves care only for their beauty and combat prowess. So much so, Shurifon raises other Elves that share their views of beauty and exemplary service to the empire. Meanwhile, all non-elvish are considered tolerable in their mere presence but lesser than an honorary citizen. There are exceptions to this as some citizens can be made from military service, but it is a conviction and commitment to servicing only the Empire for their every need.

Living amongst the Lizardfolk, Shurifon Elves are Dradini and Dradinae. A race of creature some believe to be descendents of minotaurs. Bullish brutes with the top half of a human and the lower half of a bovine, renown for their equally hedonism worship of fertility and monsterous strength. The two races, however, are less so. As Dradini are both male and female, the Dradinae are very much exclusively hermaphodites and have a very different view of life from their cousins.

While Dradini are hedonistic and selfish, craving their beastial urges. The Dradinae are very disiplined and protective, believing excess leads to laziness and idiocy, they are the guardians and soldiers of their cousin species. So much so, risking to break Shurifon laws to ensure their cultures and traditions are untouched and unspoiled. Something of a fragile peace between the empire and the race of bullish anthromorphs. It is very commonly mistaken to confuse Dradini with Dradinae as they are very similar. This soneti.es leads to many conflicts in which outsiders are out to death because of the insultbor disrespectful nature.

There are some humans that live within Shurifon, not all humans reside in Fjornia, the main bastion in Norm. Fjornia, strictly caring only for the supremacy of the human race and enslaving all lesser humans and non-humans alike, they are just as greedy as the dwarves of the Great Divide. They are just as power mad as the Orcish people of the Crescent Moon kingdom. They are just as far and wide across the continent as all creatures and just as adventurous as the other elven races dwelling the forests of East and West Ordos. Venturing across distance oceans, and climbing mountains, humans have settled in remote regions and formed communities with other races. It is not uncommon to see humans nesting in some enclaves of other races nor speak the local languages.

But it is within Zhao Providence that these groups of people are joined together trying to make something of their lives. A pirate haven of the likes of Tortuga and Shanghai, it is ruled by pirate lords and teaming with highwaymen and outlaws who call Heifong their home. Where our journey begins.

Entering the city of Heifong's eastern gate into the section of this part of town is called Pig-Sty Alley. A lone Lizardman name Tar'lak makes his way through on a path towards an unlikely future. Unsure of what to do in a place like this, they wander the dirt packed streets looking for something of interest.

Meanwhile, in a gambling den called the Silver Coin, a professional Naga guard stands watch over a meeting taking place in the offices of the pirate lord Long Que "the Silvermane" that rules over Heifong's Eastside called Pig-Sty Alley on the count of it being the poorest area and has less value that most Pirate Lords take little interest in it. Ling Que is known as the silver haired elven Lord that runs two gambling dens and a slue of extortion rackets from businesses trying to capitalize on the large cheap labor force of displaced people. Silvermane got Pig-Sty Alley as a weak rivalry between his gang of Silvermanes fought against a group of Red Wave renegades. Now holding onto what is essentially low hanging fruit, Silvermanes are looking to expand.

As the gang of Silvermanes' enforcer, the Naga guardsmen, Jibirl, is listening to a business owner having an audience with the boss over his overdue "protection" fee.
 

Grimoire

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[Jibril]

A slender Lizardman of some age sits in a dusty chair that had been left unused for sometime across from a tall, lithe built Shurifon Elf with silvery hair admiring his shoulders. The elf is very displeased by the lack of respect this Lizardman has shown him and leans in on his crowded desk of pewter coins, silver and gold sitting in a small coin purse just within reach, papers sprawled out with a map of the city pinned down by daggers on each corner.

"Kor'da you've been behind on your payments this year" Silvermane replies, "I haven't seen a single coin from you since opening your shop and I'm growing tired of sending poor Jibril to come and fetch you every single time. So you better have SOMETHING for me, ANYTHING that will make me reconsider leaving you and your shop alone"

The Lizardman answers but their is a nervous hiss to their speech: "But I am having nothing! This one doesn't have anything someone like you could ever want! What am I to do when there's no one to buy my goods?"

"Not my problem, old man, we gave you time to find a way to pay us. I have been patient with you. More so since you lost your daughter to slavers" Silvermane answers reluctantly, "My hands are tied, my men need money to keep this place running and I can't run it on debt!"

"Please, my lord, if we can come to an arrangement of sorts to work off my debt, I could repay you!" The Lizardman answers.

Silvermane looks to Jibril and gives him a nod.

[What will Jibril do?]
 

Grimoire

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[Tar'lak]

Entering the city of Heifong's eastern gate into the section of this part of town is called Pig-Sty Alley. A lone Lizardman name Tar'lak makes his way through on a path towards an unlikely future. Unsure of what to do in a place like this, they wander the dirt packed streets looking for something of interest.

[What does Tar'lak do?]
 

Khorne

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Tar'Lak couldn't help but look around with a scrutinizing eye at the town around him. It was so much unlike the hallows of his clan and the swamps that surrounded it and it made him fell exposed with his black scales standing out to those around him. But while Tar'Lak may not like it in this town he is here for a reason. As he made his way into the town he adjusted the straps of the pack that he had brought with him. The pack look just like any other, made from leathers and had several small pockets on the outside, and strings to close the main pocket inside. But if any looked closely enough they would notice the stains that dotted the bag.

Armed with a spear made of a large stick that was as tall as himself and was tipped with a large jagged spearhead of stone in his hand. A bow hung over one shoulder and a bag of arrows was placed on his hip. As he started walking away from the gate and he made his way down the street his tail slowly waving back and forth as he walked eyeing anyone and everyone he passed. As he walked deeper into the town looking for a market of some kind to see if he could trade for anything that caught his eye. Luckily his father had given him enough goods and shiny things for him to use as he saw fit.
 

Grimoire

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[Tar'lak]
Pig-Sty Alley has a wide variety of shops but upon closer inspection, these are very poor people trying to sell their belongings to get some form of payment. Most of these items are shitty quality goods sold on the dirt streets displayed on tarps and blankets much like a estate sale of sorts. The shops themselves , or rather, street vendors are selling food made from giant bugs and rodents or pawn shops and other miscellaneous junk for selling knick knacks. People don't come to this part of town to buy things for the most part but to become part of the cramped slum residences as homeless or jobless bums.

[Pawn Shop] [Vendors] [Roam] [Directions]
 

sora21345

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Jibril slowly slither's behind the sitting lizard man and takes out her dagger and put it to the lizard man throat you can keep making up excuses for not paying for your payment or you can stop wasting our time and try to sell your stuff for more cash if not i can always slit your throat and end this discussion its your choice
 

Grimoire

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(Please frame your actions and spoken responses separately please. Use "x" when speaking so we can read it)
[Jibril]
The Lizardman feels the stinging sensation of the Naga's blade whip around and held it against their neck. "Please! Please! I'm telling you the truth!"

Silvermane is watching the Lizardman intently, as he listens to his enforcer threatening the poor downtrodden soul unfortunately sitting before him, he pulls out one of the daggers piercing the table and holding the blade in his hand. Fiddling with the tip of the dagger with his index finger on one hand, he keeps holding it in his other hand ignoring the pleas of the lizard. "Kor'da, I've made you an offer that you couldn't refuse then and i am doing so now ... but"

Silvermane stands up from his wooden chair and circles around to meet in front of his desk and leans back on it with both hands resting on the edges beside him, the elvish man looks down on the lizard with a cold, calculative stare as if he is looking through into the soul of the lizardman's slit eyes as they pulse and dilate awaiting punishment. Silvermane smiles *Clap*

The lizardman twitches when he hears the clap as if the naga was going to slit his throat the moment he did. But it doesn't come, the lizardman opened his eyes when he felt nothing has happened. Silvermane slowly moves towards Kor'da and places a hand on their shoulder and gives the lizard a charming smile and says: "I think we can come to an arrangement to be able to remove some of your debt. I'm thinking that if you were to allow one of my accomplices to use your shop as a place for my thieves to fence our stolen goods, we can have some of the more finer goods become available to you to sell. We, of course, will be taking all of the proceeds from every sale of our stolen goods being placed back into circulation. After you've paid your dues, we'll start taking half of whatever we give you to sell back to people. Does that sound very reasonable to you?"

The lizardman makes an audible gulping sound as his scales are tensing under the naga's blade. Letting out a slow sigh, "Yes, Lord Ling Que. I will do as you ask of me, I'll be morethan willing to fence off your goods, just please, no more threats against me or my sons."

Silvermane keeps his cold smile and squinting his slanted eyes, "Of course! Kor'da! Of Course, you've agreed to do a service for me and i won't forget it!" Silvermane says with a confident sway and light chuckle. "Now then, if you will excuse me, I have a gambling den to run and your gloomy expression is upsetting me. You should be grateful to me and my trusted guard for sparing your miserable life, be happy!" Silvermane goes up to the lizardman and places his hands on both sides of the man's face and stares at him. "Say it with me, 'Thank you, Lord Silvermane, for sparing my life'

Kor'da: "Thank you, Lord Silver-"
Silvermane: "Smile for me when you say it!"
Kor'da puts on the best smile they can muster up ending with a warped express between pain and fear instead of a proper smile.
Kor'da, 'smiling': "Thank you, Lord Silvermane, for sparing my life"

Silvermane lets go of Kor'da's face and just as quickly drops the act and returns to a displeased resting expression. "That's better. Jibiril, if you would be so kind as to show Kor'da through the door. And do be extra careful when you do taking him downstairs"

The Silver Coin gambling den sits as a four story tall building with an outdoor setting with a tiled roof canopy for the Red Sand smokers to lounge around using hookahs and throw pillows with the central building proper having a stairwell which winds up towards the second story where the entire floor fans out over the canopies outside with the interior walled off to allow the gambling tables and crowds to meet and play at their leisure, the third floor is built around the second floor to allow a faux ceiling with stairs leading up to the next level and circling around the gambling parlor for the pitbosses to watch over the den with a bird's eye view of the tables. Silvermane's office is the entire fourth floor which caps the gambling den's roof with an outdoor staircase parting to either left or right with a flimsy railing leading downstairs into the third floor catwalk.

[Jibiril has the option to be as rough as she wants with Kor'da but cannot kill him]
[Jibiril can try and talk with Kor'da, but he isn't really in the mood to speak]
[Once Jibiril is done with Kor'da, it is expected of them to return to Silvermane's office for further instructions]
 

Khorne

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Tar’Lak not used to being in more civilized areas of the world did not know where to go in the town so he just kept walking while giving anyone around him a wide berth but still in view of the street venders. He passes several poor looking vendors as he walked sell a wide variety of things from food stuffs to metal trinkets. He knew that he didn’t need most of what these venders sold but it was always good to keep an eye out for anything that he may need in the future or just anything that caught his eye.
 

Grimoire

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[Tar'lak]
As Tar'lak roam the eastern gate, peasants see this dark scalie creature and watch him with unease and worry. Street vendors hawking their meager food to some of the adults while children play in the dirt with wooden wheels thrashed with sticks, old humans playing a game of Mahjong with wooden tablets to service their needs with painted dyes on each one like dominoes. Small crowd gathers to watch the Mahjong players while a bigger crowd stand before a horse and carriage belonging to a human street salesman giving a pitch to buy his miracle elixirs to potential customers while providing medical services for a few pewter coins. You may even hear this salesman refer to himself as a "Barber" as one by by the crowd purchase the services of this man and his young boyish assistant. A few peasants will grovel before him, begging for any pewter coins that they could have refusing to budge from their path as a few more children comes running up to them as well.

"For a mere three pews! I can make all your troubled woes ebb away, try my newest miracle cure! Dried spinach, rotten cloves and olive oil guaranteed to remove loose tongues of desperate house wives! Genital sores! and tooth rot!" The Barber points to a gentleman before him with open wounds see-through the gaps of his tunic and trousers. "You sir! Do you suffer from the wounds of your labor? I have JUST the thing for you!"

With a gimped sway in his step the shady merchant walks over to to a shelf in his open carriage to pull out one of many vials and elixirs and old produce. He turns and returns to the man he had his sights on with a bottle of yellow liquid and a torn cloth that he soaks with the fluid. The Barber grabs the man and rubs one of the open wounds of the wounded man and address them directly.

"For a few pewter, young sir, my special brand of witchhazel and nutmeg will heal your sores and scars in a mere week. Just apply a drop of this a day and you'll be right as rain!" The Barber puts the cork on the bottle and the wounded man digs through his person only to pull out a single pewter coin. A pewter coin with the rough size of a half dollar (american) with smooth edges and no engravings or minting, it's a simple designed coin that barely passes for currency in these parts. But the Barber gladly take the coin and hands the man the bottle and pockets the coin as the wounded man walks away rubbing his skin with the bottle he just paid for commenting under his breath how much it smelt of piss.

[This is interesting, what other things does this "medicine" man have?]
[Obviously this part of town doesn't have anything of value, might be a good idea to travel the Dunbar Row, the neighborhood next door.]
 
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Grimoire

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[Jibril]

Jibril holds the scrawny Lizardman firmly. With a slight lift to pull them up towards her upper body, he rests an inch out of his chair, with a great dexterity in their movement, whipping their lower naga body to remove the chair out from underneath and Kor'da easily slides over the seating and was now in a semi-crouch standing position. Kor'da is slightly impressed by this quick feat of dexterity but Jibril has a job to do.

Being a former professional guard, this isn't the kind of work someone of their standing should be doing in the first place.
What kind of existence does a former Medressa Nagini, charged with safeguarding the royalty from Tau (molerat folk), have for being the lowly thug for some pirate lord? The more Jibril thinks on it, the more reason seems to slip their mind.

"Good bye, Mister Slaven-claw. We'll be in touch" Silvermane says, circling back to their desk and stabbing the blade left unused back into the place where it belong. With a gesture of a hand aimed at the stylish circular door, Silvermane looks up at Jibril as they slither across the grand wool rug weaving towards the door with Kor'da lead with an arm behind his back and the other resting on his aching side. "And Jibril, when you're done with our guest. I need you to return here ... I have something interesting to discuss. But more on that later." saying with a deep sigh.

As she approaches the door, the circular door clicks as four locks on the corners of the door frame glowed with a bright yellow light with symbols on the locks flicking their latches free and freeing the large round door to roll to the side revealing a very crowded Dunbar Row with the slums of Pig-Sty Alley just a stone's throw away from the main drag the runs through the boulevard of Heifong's busiest gambling district. The roaring of the gale of wind is strong today as Jibril lead Kor'da down the stairs with flimsy wooden railings, keeping a hand on his left shoulder to steady them, Jibril keeps a slit eye on Kor'da as they descend and hugging the limestone wall. Once they turn into the open door frame of the third floor of the gambling parlor and walking the broad catwalk around to meet the stairwell at the center of the lobby does Jibril try to coax Kor'da to speak with them. Letting go of Kor'da's arm and letting them move more freely but still keeping that one left hand firmly planted on his shoulder, Kor'da feels a little better that she isn't twisting their arm.

"Thank you" he says with a weak enthusiasm. He runs his scale-claw hand over his thick fading and scarred green head rubbing one of his protruding horns flowing behind him, Jibril can hear the sharp nasally sigh of the lizardman as they breath out but he mutters something they couldn't make out but they can see their toothy maw moving their lips. If only Jibril could read lips, this would be easier for them to figure out what people whispering about, given their species has a slight disadvantage with hearing sounds. But she's pretty sure there was something about them needing to pay off their debt considering the circumstance Kor'da finds himself in, if she had to guess: probably him complaining. Letting them stop at the midway point at the stairway down the second story gambling lobby, Kor'da looks to Jibril as if they have something to say.

Choice:
- [What does Jibril wanna ask Kor'da?]
- [Probably best to keep moving, Sivermane doesn't like to be kept waiting]
- [Silvermane did say she could be extra careful with him]
 

sora21345

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"Jibril wanted to ask when and how did kor'dar lose his daughter if there not far from here maybe she could help him rescue her.
 

Grimoire

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[Jibril]

"Why do you care?" Kor'da says lowly, but seeing as how they're trying to pry into his business, what's there for him to lose? He relents when the Naga offers herself to them even if he is unsure what to make of it. The old lizard plants his back against the wall near the stairwell and leans against it with his arms crossed trying to recall the incident that involved his daughter getting kidnapped and sold into slavery. "It was about a year ago. I was a member of the Slaven-Claws tribe, my tribe was nomadic and looking to settle a new home for ourselves in a clearing just outside of Zhao in Rehe Providence near one of the Dradini or Dradinae settlements. We were attacked. We fought-" The lizardman lifts up his tunic to reveal many scars and broken scales up and down his back and abdomen. "I was speared through by the warriors of the clan watching over the lands. When my kin were annihilated, the few that survived were sold into slavery, the rest were tossed into a mass grave. I, by some miracle, survived the ordeal when my friend shielded me from their arrows. My daughter, hiding away in our baskets, was caught. I tried to find her weeks later when i dragged myself here to a healer. Silvermane paid for my treatment in exchange for half my earnings. I saved up enough money from our raids on caravans to buy safe passage to the village where my kin were slain. I searched for days."

There is a harsh, sudden silence. Unsure if lizardmen are capable of crying, but the expression of sorrow shows itself with a quivering of his lips.

"Those Slah had sold her to slavers traveling to Sou'jure where she'll be sold at an auction to some Fjornian lord to be hunted for sport." Kor'da says, with a low growl. "When i find the ones who did this, I want them to suffer for every scale they cleaved from my kin. I had given up looking for my spawn months ago. I still see her in my dreams walking among the lily ponds of Wraithmarsh with my mate. What little i have, i cannot venture out to find her on my own. I am old, poor and now enslaved to an elf that seeks to bleed this one dry for all i'm worth. There is no hope for her here, her future back here would be just as cruel than as a slave. My sons are all that i have left, they were nothing more than eggs when my eldest child was taken from me a year ago. Would she even recognize her brood father?"

Kor'da goes silent once more before raising his head to Jibril. "Pathetic of me. Telling you this won't change a thing. But i do hope she finds a good owner that will treat her well. Thank you for listen. If it is all the same, I should return to my shop, Kak'lin and Sim'one is probably wondering where i am."
 

sora21345

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"Jibril hug kor'dar and tell him he's wrong deep down he still cares for his missing daughter.and if theirs still a chance or even small chance she still alive
Then you cant give up on her
 

Grimoire

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[Jibril]
Kor'da is embraced by the lithe form of Jibril's slender frame pressing her bust against him, long fingers stretch and coil around the back of his head as it is lowered to her bosom. Hearing her words, he doesn't understand what this gesture is or why they're showing a strange kindest to him. So he remains silent as the two are together are held against the wall of the stairwell.

Coming from below, a strange figure in flowing black attire and a expressive white mask in the shape of a porcelain smile. Before the stranger, a pair of rowdy elves are stumbling up the stairs and see the two scalies pressed up against the wall. One looks to them and scoffs and mocks them: "Get a room, scalies, you're blocking up the stairs!"

Kor'da looks up to the men and looks away from them as they walk on by. The stranger in black, however, states at them for the briefest of moments before shuffling about and following the two elves upstairs.

But as they do ... something drops.

Kor'da looks down as the stranger who wore tightly bound shoes made of leather lifted their foot. The motion of time slowed as a small totem falls from their person. A strange totem made of silver wrapped with a crystal embedded with wire in the shape of a hexigram unicursal design suggesting a spiritual relic.

Kor'da peels away from Jibril to retrieve the totem before rolling off down the stairs. Picking up the totem, Kor'da examines it more closely before calling out to the stranger. But when they looked back, they vanished.

Kor'da looks to the totem with a sense of hope and admiration, as if it calmed him. But whatever possessed him, he looks to Jibril with a glow of red fiery eyes.

"I must go to them. Time is short. I must be ready to greet them" Kor'da hands Jibril the totem, "Your time will come and so will they."

[Kor'da awaits Jibril to accept the strange totem]
 

sora21345

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"Jibril accepts the totem she ask kor'dar for her daughters name in case she ever meet her or find clues about her
 

Grimoire

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[Jibril]

Kor'da answers: "Kana'he"

As the totem leaves his hand, the strange red glow of his eyes switched back to the amber color. With a haze cloud lifting from his mind, he touches his face. But he shakes the feeling as he takes his leave, just as he does he looks over his shoulder: "Don't make a promise you can't keep. Jibril of Medressa."

Kor'da leaves, Jibril is left alone on the stairwell. Now that the deed is down she must return to Silvermane regarding this "something" he mentioned. Then Jibril looks at the totem kor'da handed them, it appears to be magical in nature.

[Medressa Knowledge of Arcane]:
Jibril uses their knowledge to identify the object. Mages in service to the royalty have used totems and relics to pass along messages such as the Seer Stone or Scrying Crystals. But the oddity of this object doesn't convey that sense, but it embues the owner with a drive of sorts that the magic within bears. "Ambition" comes to mind if what it did do Kor'da was of any consideration. Perhaps the totem's symbol gives any indication as to who made it and why. But the fact remains: the totem is now hers but it doesn't affect her as it did with Kor'da. Very strange.

[Time to return to Silvermane]
 

Grimoire

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[Jibril]
Jibril motions for the circular door to Silvermane's office. The door opens, and through, she comes across a large, barrel chested and thick scale person cladded up with Adamantite (red uranium) armor from his lower body down to his feet barring his top half which all natural armor. This man is a Dragonborn!

Next to the Dragonborn man is the stranger from earlier, black robes and porcelain smile mask still unsettling as it was before. The Dragonborn spoke to Silvermane regarding an earlier discussion Jibril wasn't present for. But they carry out their conversation until the black cladded stranger placed a hand on the Dragonborn's shoulder then stares at Jibril, who lingered in the doorway with a steady hand on their blade at their side.

Sidestepping away from the door, Jibril take her post leaning up against a support beam awaiting the meeting to end. She listens to their discussion:

"... that's all well and good, Lord Qui, but we have a strict policy on our qualifications for the task in mind." Dragonborn continued, "I was told you had a suitable candidate, I'm here to negotiate. If we like them, we'll endorse their application for the surveyor group."

Silvermane is awfully hospitable to his guest that his smile is wider than before and his hands are interlocking in front of him - he's definitely nervous.

"Mister Baelfire, I assure you, if we had an expert like that you're looking for them in the wrong place. Your chances of finding one are in the capital city. The best you'll find is cheap muscle, the best we have is our dear Nagini friend standing behind you. Even then, a surveyor group searching for minerals and scouting locations sounds awfully like spying.

My business keep flowing with coin so long as I keep the rabble in check. If I allowed my enforcers and members of my gang join your little group the consequences of doing so are high. I cannot risk lending my people to the Canaanites even after that incident in the capital."

Dragonborn turns to Jibril: "Perhaps we should let the Naga decide if she's interested bin our proposal."

Silvermane looks up and stands up out of his cushioned seat and gestures Jibril to come forward.

"Jibril, this is Draco Baelfire. He's an emissary of the New Canaan Republic out in Daedran's Wrath north of here. Mister Baelfire, this is my personal guard, Jibril, who hails from the Medressa within the Gordo Desert. She's a former guard to the royalty there and has come to Shurifon looking to start a new life."

Through his teeth and moving his lips with a forced smile, Jibril could read the simple gesture as "politely".

 

sora21345

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"Jibril bow gracefully to Draco Baelfire and ask what kind of job are you talking about and what are the risk?
 

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[Jibril]
The Dragonborn's companion steps aside as Draco himself stood from his chair to his digitigrade feet and turns to face Jibril directly. Towering over her at 8 feet tall with a few inches more, give or take, he looks her over to give an appraisal.

Humanoid body, bipedal, slender frame, lithe athletic build in her legs and torso, a short C-cup bust hidden under her leather armor and tunic. Behind her is a heart shaped arse with a very long prehensile tail that could around the Naga's waist or flows freely behind her to about the same length as her height: 6 feet. She has a feminine slit but until someone removes her tunic, no one will know what's underneath. Her face is high cheekbone with an angular shape, snout with heat pits and rows of retractable fangs, eyes are brown with vertical slits and a pair of horns extending from her temple on either side as well as two smaller nub ones on her snout. Within her maw is a foot long forked tongue, the side of her head bears two opening slits meant to serve as ears only picking up vibrations (not frequencies). Her skin is visibility scarred from years of service to her guard postings with her sandy gritted scalies being soft and alluring instead of protection.

Draco stares long enough at her then speaks:

"The Canaanites are looking for specialists and mercenaries looking to make a difference in a new country. We're looking to expand our interests to the surrounding areas in search of resources and scouting viable locations suitable for cultivation. Currently, we need to find resources that isn't widely known or seem valuable to our rivals. Metals are our primary target but we've been successful in finding a rare resource that our leader requires and has asked me to find individuals to grow our pool of surveyors in search of more of these resources.

Our offer is this: join the Canaanites, prove your worth and make yourself useful providing us your local expertise a d knowledge locating points of interests. We scout locations no one cares tread, dangers lurk we where go and there will be dangers when we make our move to seize our objectives. We locate, identify, report, travel to the next objective and repeat. We're not soldiers, we're freelancers investigating places and report back to the Republic what we found and know of the region. That is all.

We, of course, know what we ask is daunting and life threatening, so our leader is generous enough to offer 1 silver coin per hour for every day we're on exploration. 24 silver coins a day, our journey takes a week or more, you do the math. It is a lot of coin. We also provide you food, shelter, clean drink, medicine and company. You take what you have on you, we make stops to gear up for long distances.

If this appeals to you, speak now. If not, we'll find someone else. But I have a feeling you will consider it, we can definitely use a Naga from Medressa who knows the desert than outsiders. I believe you'll make an excellent addition, and so will our leader: Kane."
 

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"Jibril bow to Draco Baelfire and she ask him if he could do three things for her.The first thing is splitting the silver payment and giving the half of the coins to Kor'da to help pay off his debt to silvermane the scond is can you find me a person name "Kana'he" the third one is giving me appropriate clothing and armor that blends in with the environment to help make it easier to scout and not get caught by an enemy or dangerous animals.If he could do those thing she would join there cause
 

Grimoire

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[Jibril]
Draco raises an eyebrow to Jibril.

"Kor'da? Draco says then turns to Silvermane who smiles nervously. Silvermane rose from his seat once more to emphasize his demeanor.

"Jibril, my friend, I think you should consider his offer to be quite generous!"

Draco holds up a hand to stop Silvermane, "Who is this Kor'da and this ... Hana'he?"

Chuckling nervously at the inquisitive question, staring at the unamused Dragonborn, he answers the Dragonborn's question with reluctance.

"Kor'da is an associate with our organization with an outstanding debt. We provide protection for his business and livelihood. In exchange, we ask he return what is owed to us for doing so-"

Draco speaks sharply with a sneer: "You mean a slave!"

Silvermane looks more shocked: "Nononono! We have an arrangement! He borrowed money, were just collecting our interest! As for his daughter, he lost her to some slavers. I don't know where."

Silvermane, distressed, looks to Jibril: "Jibril, what is about? We owe him nothing!"

Draco steps around Silvermane's desk an slowly creeps forward. The black cladded man walks beside Jibril with their hands tucked behind their back and allow their jovial porcelain mask express their inner emotion as they watch.

"What do you know about this 'Hana'he'?"

Throwing up his hands defensively, Silvermane backs away slowly.

"I only know she was sold to slavers in Sou'jure. I don't know who! I swear!"

Draco grabs Silvermane by the collar and lifts him up with ease and plants him against the wall of the office, knocking down the decor mounted on the walls.

"If we find out that you had something to do with her, I will be back with the Gentral Guard and have you arrested for breaking the law. Where is this Kor'da?"

The masked man walks up to Draco, whispers something into his ear then pulls away. Draco releases Silvermane and pulls out a coin purse and throws it in Silvermane's face, dropping pewter coins. "Disgraceful elf"

Draco turns to Jibril with a scolding ire: "Nagini Jibril, you have my word as a member of the Canaanites, we will free this child and return her home to her father." Draco looks over his shoulder to Silvermane: "A free Kor'da!

Silvermane composes himself, picking up the pewter coins and combing his silver hair over his pointy ears, shaking, he bags the coins and nods nervously: "Yes, Mister Baelfire"

Draco returns his gaze to Jibril with a more calm, collective gaze with a smile drawn across his face:

"Then it's settled. You'll accompany me to New Canaan, we'll be outfitting you with the best equipment we have to spare. But it won't be cheap, just so you're aware. While we make our stop, I will need to make your introduction to our leader, Kane, so that we have a record of you. It's all part of the process, I'm afraid. Record keeping is a big deal for the Republic and it's customary to never bow in his presence.

Kane maintains a no slave policy, having abolished that particular law has opened our doors to slaves and refugees so be on your best behavior. As he states: 'A man chooses, a slave obeys' and I'm inclined to believe him. If he were anything, he is a man of his word. Once our business has concluded in the republic, we'll be journeying to Sou'jure.

Whether it was by chance or by convinence, Sou'jure has been a source of interest for the Canaanites. We don't actively free slaves even venturing so far into Fjornia. But our task will be to scout the area and gather information for the republic. Once done, I will aid you in finding this child you spoke of. I pray we are not too late."

Draco turns to the masked man: "Mellow. Pass along to the others we're on the move again. And make sure this Silvermane keeps this meeting silent."

The masked man, Mellow, nods to Draco and peels back the hood of their cloak to reveal large flowing hair that look like quills. Once all of their hair is out, they move on their own little a rattlesnake tail viberating.

Jibril senses the man's message: "Move to Kane, en route to master's location immediate. Secure safe passage, leave no witnesses"

Mellow turns to Jibril who stares at them. Unsure what to make of this thing that spoke through their hairline quills, they remained silent to feign ignorance. Draco walks towards the door, Mellow soon follows. As Draco reaches the door he stops to address Jibril: "Come along, Nagini, our business here is done. We shan't spend any longer here."
 

sora21345

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"Jibril ask draco if she could find kor'da first and tell him of the grate news first before leaving the city
 

Grimoire

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[Jibril]
Taking the stairs, Draco follows Mellow clearly with Jibril following him afterwards. Leading down into the gambling parlor, Draco addresses Jibril's question: "If you know where to find him, be my guest. I have some business left in town, you have some things to get done, do it now. Once on the road, we're not stopping until we've reached Scarlet Rose."

Moving through the crowd of Red Sand smokers and lousy gamblers pouring too many coins on the tables. Down the stairwell and through the front entrance to the Silver Coin den, Draco and Mellow stop Jibril. Draco pulls out another coin pouch but this one is much larger and drops it into Jibril's hand with a noticable heft to it.

"Consider this an investment. I'll meet you at the Last Breath inn."
 

Khorne

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As the soft-skin yelled on about his special potions Tar’Lak just shook his head before approaching the soft-skin. “You there soft-skin. Where can this one fine the market of this town.” Tar’Lak said with a flick of his tongue.
 

Grimoire

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[Jibril]
Jibril acknowledging the Dragonborn, she sets out to find Kor'da. Draco parts from Mellow, the masked man and the two go their separate ways for the time being. Jibril notes Draco's handshake as: holding the other person's inner arm. A practice of checking for daggers hidden in a person's sleeve when greeting them.

Jibril knows where Kor'da lives and where his business is. Prior to the meeting that day, Jibril was always sent to collect his dues. But until today, Jibril only had a name for the Lizardman and kept busy enough to knew ask questions. In this life, it's best to never ask questions one doesn't want the answers to - some things are best left forgotten.

Kor'da runs a pawn shop in Pig-Sty Alley on one of the streets leading to Dunbar Street which is the main boulevard in Heifong, every thing can be found here or the docks. Jibril knows the best route to Kor'da and it's fortunately closer to the Silver Coin.

Jibril walks down narrow alleyway, ducking below wooden fences built high and vaulting over obstacles in her path with ease. Her parkour skills are elegant and gracefully done, almost slithering and smoothly done, she can move very quickly without losing her momentum. On no time at all, she reaches Kor'da's shop: Risky Claw.

Inside the shanty pawn shop, two little boys are sitting around the merchandise displayed on tables and in some crates for cheap knick knacks and the like. Lots of toys, clocks, clothes, instruments, tools and other miscellaneous items that have some value. But compared to the other shops in Dunbar, this is mostly crap for a little bit of coin to buy food with and some company. The only little is the open window frame with broken glass shining throw torn curtains with much of what was once an organized shop into a disorganized mess.

Jibril and the other enforcers weren't so kind to Kor'da, after Peg Manny was snatched up for kidnapping. Jibril was sent to collect Kor'da after Peg Manny visited one too many times. Finally, Silvermane had enough of the vandalism and fear-mongering the locals had and suggested a sit down. That's when our story began.

Now that Kor'da is now considered free of his debt, and Jibril's quest to find his daughter is now on her To-Do list.
 

Grimoire

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[Tar'lak]
The strange salesman looks to the Lizardman, a bit put off as they speak Leyfon (Shurifon language) to converse with him and he does so in kind.

"Ah-hah, forgive my manners. I've never heard one of you speak as well as the elves do. My Leyfon is rusty. I am Oswaldo Cornell!"

As to Tar'lak is getting annoyed by the salesman and his pitches, Oswaldo looks over their shoulder and points into the direction of Dunbar Row. To which he goes into detail.

"Just follow the signs on the corner and you'll find the Silver Coin. Hard to miss and it's a straight shot over the bridge. A bit of warning, my fellow, it is not wise to go there without friends! It can be dangerous for your kind of you're not careful."

Tar'lak is draw to the strange object sitting on the carriage as it seems to move out of a satchel to make itself known to him. It gives him a strange since of wanting to which Oswaldo notices this stare. As he walks over and grabs the strange crystal and silver totem, he returns.

"I noticed you staring at my knick knacks I found the other day. You like it? It IS a very nice Shiny. Your people like shiny things, as do I! I'll willing to part with it if you have something of value-"

But Oswaldo acts very strangely as he cuts himself midway through his sentence and his eye glow ominously red.

"No ... No I think I should give this to you ... Something tells me ... You'll need it"