...pull on a leather cloak and sigil of the thieves guild.
From Create Your Own Story
There's something reassuring about pulling on your cloak - actually, it's a duster, a long leather jacket, but Grath kept calling it a cloak and the name stuck. Maybe it's because it gives you that little extra bit of protection. Maybe it's because it's the only piece of clothing you own that's lasted you more than six months. Or maybe it's because you have a dozen knives concealed in it for emergencies. Whatever the case, you pull it on, and then your boots. Finally, a small necklace bearing the symbol of the local thieves' guild is pulled over your head. The fact that you wear it openly marks you as a treasure-hunter - one part archaeologist, one part mercenary, and one part grave robber.
You open the door to see your burly friend sprawled out on a bench, his axe propped against the wall, almost obscured behind his outrageous mane of long black warrior's braids. "Took you long enough."
"We got in at three bells, Grath."
"And yet I was up an hour ago."
"Not everyone can have the blessing of an outlander upbringing."
"Darn straight." He laughs, a booming noise that sounds almost feral. "Up before the sun to stalk elk! Back by noon with the prey to skin them and cook for the women! Ahh, that was the life." He looks absolutely joyful for a moment, and then a shadow of grief passes over his face before he shakes off the memory. You learned a long time ago not to ask why he doesn't talk much about his past - it's a rather touchy subject for him.
"Right - well, breakfast, then?" You break in.
"Excellent idea." The awkward moment passes, and you stride into the inn's common room to help yourself to the buffet, alongside just about every other traveller in the place. Grath leans in after grabbing a whole melon and sitting down across from you. "So what's the plan for today?"
"Well, if nothing else comes up, there's a bounty for clearing the kobolds out of Wren's Keep." The lizardlike creatures set up residence in the old castle's ruins a few years ago, and have been annoying the nine hells out of the nearby populace since.
"Eh. It's an idea. What about your guild? Isn't there a contact around here you can get in touch with?"
You are about to answer, when...
Do you:
- You hear the inkeeper scream.
- A glob of slime hits you in the face.
- You feel a blade press into your side.
| Status | ||
| Health | Less groggy | Equipment:
Leather armor, hidden knives, guild sigil |
| MP | 0 | |
| Level | 1 | |
