Ladykylin

Galis swore, partly confused as to why Galroy would have someone watch a place a place he could go to and from freely, but mostly becuase yet again the bastard was getting in his way.

“And why does he have someone watching here?”

“Said it’d be a good place ot watch if I wanted to catch a silver crow.”

“And where is he now?” Galis asked, presseing the knife just hard enough to cut skin when he hesitated. “And you really don’t want to reach any closer to that dirk.”

“He and that idoit blonde are off somewhere at the docks with the rest of his rebel pals.”

“So who is here now?”

“Just some nasty old bugger with a fondness of skraf(What skraf is I’m not sure, Probably a drug) and some dock worker.”

Galis’s eyes narrowed, “What does he look like?”

“Old nasty, and short of a lot of teeth, stinks to the high heaves and real guant.”

“The dock worker jackass.”

“Big tall, it’s dark when he comes and dark when he leaves.” He might have shrugged if Galis didn’t have a knife on his rather vital vein. “I knew he wasn’t the corw since he’s some short gangly silver eyed brat-”

“A brat that has a knife to your neck,” Galis said diggining the dagger deeper, as he cut the idoits narrative short. “You can tell you bastard of a boss that it’ll take a hell of a better then some would be panhandler that deosn’t know how to hide that his shoes are polished.”

“Didn’t think it’d give me away that badly.”

“Just being a panhandler here gives you away that badly, that and you have good posture. Begger never have straight backs.”

“Well now what, much as leaveing me here dead would leave him a very clear message, your not a killer, and it’d only make the price on your head go up.”

“As high as it is it deosn’t make much diffrence, but your right, I’m atheif not a killer. And unless you want to bleed out from excertaing your self to much your going to take care of that neck wound while I leave the same way I came.” With that he withdrew his dagger from the unfortuante agents neck cutting a little deeper as he did and scrambled back down the alley and up the wall take to a mostly stable roof.

(signifgant detail, Dehlia is blonde I just decided this O.O)

Usually the short picket fence that goes around the central garden would not be an issue to deal with, if it hadn’t been overrun by the once short hedge that had grown to be over 9 feet tall.

Across the street the odd person hurriedly walks by, giving you curious glances, if they don’t do anything long enough then they end up being watched by a crowd.

There will be afew ways in, over the hedge since at least one of them can fly, the incopreal dude can just go through the hedge, they could look for a way in via underground tunnels, or just bust through the hedge. The hedge being busted is most likely.

Within the once pristine and ordred park the grass has become nearly knee high, and weeds twice that, the swing set and play ground are covered in thonry vines. (If someone does a danger check and passes they will not be ambused, otherwise they will be ambused) It suddenly grows darker, and colder and appearing suddenly before you is a gaint covered in ice armour, with tall horns helm and in his icy hand is a gaint hammer.

And from here chaos will ensue as battle happens.

This post has nothing to do with my novel, it is for a paper based rpg game I am going to be hosting/gming. Which essentially means that I’m the narrator and create all the bad guys and stuff the players have to go through. And call the shoots as far as the rules go. That is why I am using second person for this. The you in this will be the players.

The town of bloomingsville which you are all in was not that long ago known for it’s incredible gardens, and parks, where the elder would sit and play chess, and kids would play. However things have taken a terrible turn in the past few weeks. No one dares to go into the central park, the last kid who did on a dare supposedly never came out. And the weather has been erratic, just yesterday it has rained snowed and hailed all in one afternoon. The mayor has sent each of you a message asking if you would come to his house becuase he believes he’s found a possible source of the problem.

I’m going to assume that the players will go to the mayor’s place, becuase well it’s what they are supposed to do.

You arrive at the mayor’s mansion, an old stone house in the center of town that is well kept, though the usually neat hedges seem to be spreading at an unprecedented rate. Before you get more then half way in Stevension, the mayors aid greets you. He ushers you into the house, saying just how glad he is that you were all willing to come. He ushers you in as an unseasonably cold wind starts blowing saying it’d be best to be inside before it gets any worse.

Within the mayor’s house there is the warmth and earthy smell that one would expect from a green house, and you see tucked away in corners and lining some of the walls exotic plants growing. They mayor is very well known for his green thumb(which like the rest of him is literally green, he can photosynthesizes) Stevension leads you to where the mayor is waiting, which is in the sun room on the second floor, in the west wing of the manor. At some point in time I need to tell them that the mayor’s name is George the jolly green giant.

Though he has a troubled expression when you come in your very presence seems to have made him at least a little less troubled.

He first swears all of you to secrecy becuase he cannot risk what he has becoming public knowledge. HE then tells of you that his daughter has gone missing, and she was last seen in the park, and he tried to go look himself but could hardly get into the place with all the vines in the way. He willingly admits that he really is getting soft, and mutters something about soft and old. He also mentions that she isn’t the only one to have gone missing in the past two weeks, ever since the weather started to be strange terrible things have been happening in his beloved town.

I’m assumeing the players accept and go to the garden, if they don’t the fight that happens in the garden will happen earlier as the baddies will just find them where they happen to go.

As you approach the garden you see why the mayor had no luck getting in, the wrought iron gates around the place are entangled so thickly with vines that they are more vine then iron. Usually the short picket fence that goes around the central garden would not be an issue to deal with, but it has been taken over by hedges that have grown, almost over night, to being nearly 9 feet tall.

Across the street the odd person hurriedly walks by, giving you curious glances.

He didn’t need Greg getting hte guards following him, he knew he could trust him, but what about the rest of the rebles, and he knew he didn’t trust Galroy. It wasn’t long before he was in his old neighborhood, as much as he had found the worry of being found unnerveing at times, he didn’t miss the smell, being by the dock, and the tanneries and dye houses was hardly an aromatically pleasant place. It was not far from these aromatic buisness that his old home had been, vaguely in the back of his mind he remembere haveing somewhere better.

He was all but certain Greg wouldn’t be there, it wasn’t long past high noon, he would be working at his honest back bracking smugglers job. He hesitated some distance away when he noticed someone watching the house, someone trying far to hard to look like a panhandler. But he wasn’t nearly mal-nourshied enough, and someone would have to be truely retarded to think this area would be good for that kind of work. He had more likely hood of being mugged then given coin. Glanceing around he quickly found a path behind him, even without the cover of nightfall it wouldn’t be that hard. He’d made another mistake that no one native to this area would make, he’d left his back to an alley.

Navigateing roof stretchers, he got a bird eyes view of the alley, and no one, save a very drunk and beaten and robbed sailor, was there. And from the darkly pooling blood he woudln’t be surprised if he was dead from the bash to the back of the head someone gave him. It was far more common then the guards would ever know, even if he was dead the body would be gone by the end of tommorow night. Where it went was something Galis didn’t know, and didn’t care to know either. Rumours and legends spread but no one really knew.

Easeing himself down the worn brick wall he found himself on the street once again, this time blessedly short on guards. His remaining dagger was a cool comfort in the palm of his hand as he silently approcahed the would be panhandler. The closer he got the worse the disguse was, the clotheing was obviously ripped purposely, and showed none of the typical stains from the life of drudery that panhandler around here would have, and his boots were far to nice. Someone could get mugged for boots like that. The purposefull scruffing job barely hid that they had recently been polished.

Galis shook his head slowly silently calling the man an idoit as he approached. Switching to a reverse grip he held it agasint the man’s neck. “You don’t want to turn around, and you really don’t want to make any sudden movements or loud noises. I just want to know what the hell your doing here.”

“I just trying to get enough coin for a scrap of a supper,” His voice quivered slightly, fear perhaps, or was it just acting.

“Bullshit, you either work for Alten directly or you work for the guard. Panhandlers have a very short life span around here.” Galis hissed, “I just want to know why your here.”

“I don’t work for either.”

“Then who do you work for smartass?” Galis asked, applieing a little more pressure to the blade, still not enough to even cut through the collor of shirt. Thath is shirt had a colloar was another obvious score agasint him.

“The ace of spade.”

Galis swore, partly confused as to why Galroy would have someone watch a place a place he could go to and from freely, but mostly becuase yet again the bastard was getting in his way.

“And why does he have someone watching here?”

“Said it’d be a good place ot watch if I wanted to catch a silver crow.”

Can’t find someone by the sword on thier back when their head is at everyone elses shoulder height. that is unless the crowd parted becuase well, openly carrying a weopon wasn’t somehting upstanding citizens did. But Galis wasn’t an upstanding citizen. (REally no shit sherlock.)

He didn’t so much meld into the crowd as try to hide amounghst the chaos that was erputing from the guard’s frantic search led by a foully and angrly curseing sargent he’d thrown his dagger at. He had to get to an area he knew better, somehwere he knew not just the ins and outs, but the back way and side ways.

He ducked into an alley, his sense of direction and intution leading him as much as anythign else, his map of the city was far better then anything the city cartogropher could make, at least of where he’d been.

Ther wasn’t a lot of thought put onto his path, just a vague genral direction as he kept off the main road and listened for the ever present, but mostly far enough way to breath safely whistles. That things like walls and houses barely slowed him down helped. The guards had no such skill or ablity. You think they would have found someone that could.

Without much mishap he found himself in the far less patrolled, and far more troubled docks, an area he probably did know better then the back of his hand. After all memorizeing that wouldn’t do him much good. He still kept out of sight, sticking to rooftops where structers would allowed, not that the docks were really that populated dureing the day. But he wasn’t just a theif now, he was a very badly wanted crimnal with hefty price. He just hoped he could find Greg without bringing to much attention to himself. He didn’t need Greg getting hte guards following him, he knew he could trust him, but what about the rest of the rebles, and he knew he didn’t trust Galroy.