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abraxaslogs2021-08-28 09:41 pm
abraxasmods) wrote in abraxaslogs2021-08-28 09:41 pm
Entry tags:
- !event,
- !npc,
- alina starkov; the hanged man,
- amos burton; the lovers,
- cirilla of cintra; the devil,
- coraline finch; the tower,
- estinien wyrmblood; the hermit,
- geralt of rivia; the hanged man,
- gideon nav; strength,
- hector; the magician,
- himeka sui; the fool,
- jaskier; the sun,
- jon sims; the high priestess,
- jon snow; the emperor,
- kiryu kazuma; the tower,
- sam wilson; justice
WELCOME TO THE FREE CITIES!
WELCOME TO THE FREE CITIES!
Welcome to The Free Cities! The portal exits outside the capital city of Cadens. The first impression of the city is its sheer size. It sprawls out across the landscape like a great hulking beast at rest. The wall that encircles it barely contains it, the buildings of Cadens practically bulging against its restraint.
The air here seems thicker somehow, tinged with a scent that’s acrid and smoky. Smog hangs high over the city, belched out by smokestacks that tower over the industrial district. The desert stretches out behind it, dotted with towers and dust clouds that disappear into the horizon. Multiple gates lead inside and each is staffed by soldiers in unfamiliar uniforms that wave a steady stream of people through without appearing to pay much attention. People are coming and going almost all of the time, to and from the outposts and areas of activity around the city proper. It’s difficult to tell just what’s out there beyond the impression of tall metal structures and a great deal of labor. Wagons carrying travelers to Libertas and Aquila roll out from the Travel Post outside the city wall.
Anyone who can sense magic will notice a much lower concentration here. No one will be stopped or questioned at the gate, even if the soldiers seem to take note of the fugitives from Thorne.
The activity and sheer number of citizens can be overwhelming. It’s crowded and loud and feels constantly in motion with everyone talking and yelling over each other. It’s easy to get swept up in the ever-moving throng or find oneself ducking into the mouth of a narrow alley just to breathe.
Anyone who’s willing to make their way to the northern part of the city and Portham Hall will find Prime Minister Marlo Reiner available to receive them.
The air here seems thicker somehow, tinged with a scent that’s acrid and smoky. Smog hangs high over the city, belched out by smokestacks that tower over the industrial district. The desert stretches out behind it, dotted with towers and dust clouds that disappear into the horizon. Multiple gates lead inside and each is staffed by soldiers in unfamiliar uniforms that wave a steady stream of people through without appearing to pay much attention. People are coming and going almost all of the time, to and from the outposts and areas of activity around the city proper. It’s difficult to tell just what’s out there beyond the impression of tall metal structures and a great deal of labor. Wagons carrying travelers to Libertas and Aquila roll out from the Travel Post outside the city wall.
Anyone who can sense magic will notice a much lower concentration here. No one will be stopped or questioned at the gate, even if the soldiers seem to take note of the fugitives from Thorne.
The activity and sheer number of citizens can be overwhelming. It’s crowded and loud and feels constantly in motion with everyone talking and yelling over each other. It’s easy to get swept up in the ever-moving throng or find oneself ducking into the mouth of a narrow alley just to breathe.
Anyone who’s willing to make their way to the northern part of the city and Portham Hall will find Prime Minister Marlo Reiner available to receive them.
no subject
[He said with a peculiar look in his eye, caught somewhere between unreadable and cracking an amused smirk. Sure, he knew how to read a person, it was his trade. Not one he had cultivated because he had wanted to, but because he had to. A story for another time perhaps. Or never.
He let the look slide into a faint smile as Geralt "agreed" to Majima. In so much as 'show me' meant 'agreed' to anything at all. It was a start at least. And Majima would be happy to do so.]
Happy to, sir. Nothin' to it.
[Whereabouts he left Geralt's table and walked over to a wall with a round board upon it. Not much to look at but it had markings to indicate spaces and that was enough for Majima. He coaxed someone to play a simple game with him and they took turns tossing the set of three darts at the board. Majima easily made it look like the other might win until he sunk the last two darts into the bull's eye and dropped his score perfectly. He thanked the other guy for playing and left him to wonder what happened.
He sauntered back over to Geralt.]
See? Not that hard. I'll let ya choose the game type and everything. There's a few. Most are simple enough rules.
no subject
Majima walking away is not quite what he expected, but it's ideal nonetheless because Geralt prefers his personal space. If he's watching, it's only out of idle curiosity. In the end, it just isn't something he does—casually play some game with another.
But he is interested enough to pluck the flimsy dart from the man's hand as he goes by, the one walking out the door a few coins lighter. It's small, light, not especially well-balanced. He imagines they all have a different weight to them.
His eyes flick upward. ] If you've read me. You'd know it'll not be a fair game.
[ He is what he is. Has never really hidden it, either, and it's more apparent now with his mutations returned entirely. And Majima smells all too human. ]
apologies for taking forever
Ya think I can't hold my own in a game of darts? Haha! Ya already confessed yer not familiar with the game so I've got an advantage while ya acclimate to the rules and despite appearances I ain't a bad player. They don't call me Majima "High Ton" Goro for nothin'! My one good eye against yer two extra good ones--sounds like the kinda odds I like!
no subject
Still. Maybe Majima is skilled enough to at least bring a draw. So. ]
What're we playing for?
[ Copper or drinks, doesn't matter to him. He's just here for the sake of humouring the man. ]
no subject
Depends on what kinda bettin' man ya are. Something different strike yer fancy? Or does the risk bore ya?
[He laughed, a cackle really. He shook his head and cut it off short. More seriously:]
Drinks're fine if that's what yer used to bettin' on. Let's play a practice round to get ya acclimated.
[Never call him discourteous. He meant well despite his crazy antics. This was only a prelude-- but that was a story for another time.]