Zheosyth had for the last couple of days ignored any straining physical activity, focusing solely on aerobics and meditation. All the activity of her new past-time [Bounty Hunting] had left her more distant from her fellow monks with whom she had little social status among to begin with. This had made the short walk up to her quarters very brief with little time in between taking the note into her hands and reading yet another potentially dangerous job offer with good pay and little, if any, benefits...shocker.
In not a moments hesitation she had traded out her casual robes for her new outfit to sit folded on her pillow. A custom-made, pure silk, blood-red Gi with gold trim and belt now adorned her in place of her father's old outfit. Her thoughts permeated with how long she had worn that sickly-looking uniform. A dust covered, torn, stitched up, slashed, battered, stitched up, burned, and stitched up again white gi that had long since lost it's original shade of pure white. How she loved it so, and these thoughts continued on as she headed out of her dwelling and on to the streets to Mishra's shop. Sentiments would have to wait for another day, big girls don't cry.
{Sentimental mumbo-jumbo, skip if not interested in back-story}
Her father's outfit, it had been given to her when she decided to take up training under his guidance so long ago. The day she was ready was when she wore it for the first time; the first time she felt an overwhelming sense of pride, knowing that so much work was put into earning something so important. Over many dangers, trial and tribulations it had been the victim of much abuse and half-decent patchwork, the former being not entirely her fault. Now it was nothing really. A sorry excuse for a rag that had endured far too much and sat alone underneath Zheosyth's bed, folded into a box and retired for good. A pitiable legacy that could never be worn again.
Zheosyth: As you reach Mishra's shop, her raven jeers at you from his customary perch on her sign. Inside, you see Mishra helping a mud spattered sorcerer with a flea bitten rat for a familiar. She looks up as Cornelius (the raven), mocks you into the shop in grand style, leaving you feeling both irked, and welcomed.
She nods to let you know she saw you and turns back to her customer.
As usual, the shop is overflowing with the usual assortment of magical items, scrolls, spell components and other arcane sundries.
After her current customer leaves, she motions you over
Having the slight irritation of the bird was welcome to her ears having heard worse comments regarding her race/appearance. Zheosyth would patiently stand to the side letting customers walk by with no issue. Upon the leave of Mishra's mud-ridden customer, she would walk over Mishra and greet her with a gentle bow. "A good day to you Mizshra, I hope that I am not too late on account that thiz notess urgenSSy zuggestz."
[Side note: Given the lizard lisp, you will notice excessive use of the letters s and z. Also having and oriental tone to her voice could be problematic, so no attempt to modify words further with that will be done]
Zheosyth" "It is fairly urgent. Word's reached me of a pack of gnolls running amok in the south. They all wear the same emblem, a medal made of a black metal." Mishra says. She straightens out a rack of 3rd level scrolls before continuing. "This is probably related to this Bringer of the Void I've been told about. I've sent for your companions as well. With luck, we can head this off before it gets out of hand. The brewing war between Ishtar and Aphrodite is enough of a pain."
"I zee. Tell the otherz to meet me at the Zouth gate. I will invesstigate this immediately." Zheosyth replies. She heads out of the shop, gently pushing aside customers with many quick "Excuze me"'s and "Pardon me". The news of gnolls being involved had slightly upset her, especially since she'd be working with one very soon. Making her way past passer-by's she heads to the south gate to await her companions to partake in yet another skirmish.
Ilsendre: Mishra's shop, is a hub of activity. As you walked there, you hear more and more about the explosion and the fall of Earl Gray, the lich. Both were the work of a sorcerer, who is rumored to have been aided by a Githyanki and a elven paladin riding a giant cat.
A courier from the town closest to the alleged explosion describes a giant cloud shaped mushroom boiling up out of the Forest of Sorrows, and a blast of wind ripping through the town.
For fear of being kicked in the chest, he doesn't make aloud his first opinion of the fellow paladin riding a cat which was 'This is madness...'. It really was considering the idle dangers they've [they being his companions and himself] faced so far. He made an effort not to smile too widely in a crowded place such as this considering his fierce features given to him by his 'gnollitage' [heritage equivalent]. Everyone was already in such a hustle and bustle he wouldn't want to rile the locals any further with the threat of a 'scary monster dog-man' in down. Ilsendre stood a few heads taller than an average 5'8-5'10 human, so if Mishra was inside the shop it would not take long to find her no matter how many people were gathered there. Regardless of how long it took for some 'slower' people to move out of his way to the counter he presumed the owner of the shop, Mishra, would be, he was patient and not afraid to pardon himself from peoples way.
Ilsendre: Rejoice, Paladin of uniqueness. Your dog massaging assured the fine townsfolk that you are, at worse, the epitome of ecentricity. Most Gnolls would've spitted the dogs and roasted them.
You pass a mud spattered sorcerer and his rat as you head to Mishra's shop. Cornelius, her raven, jeers and mocks you from his customary perch. He then heckles the packs of kids that follow you at a distance.
Inside <insert most of the description from above>, Mishra is hand sorting a stack of wands a burly fighter, her scout companion, and a dwarven druid have brought. She nods at you and finishes up her business, and waves you over to the counter.
"Thank you for coming, Ilsendre. A pack of gnolls have been stirring up trouble. They all bear the mark of someone called the Bringer of the Void, and have been raiding along the southern reachs. Unlike normal Gnolls, and most unlike you and your auspicious order, they seem to be taking a significant number of captives. My sources haven't been able to find them, and Scrying has been useless. With things between the temples of Ishtar and Aphrodite getting worse, I have to stay here to contain and spillage from that mess. your companion Zheosyth has agreed, and is waiting near the south gate. Can you help?"
[Ilsendre] recalls his father eating quite a lot of dog when he was younger and sometimes he even offered him some but because of his bitch[no really, she is] mother he was steered down the path of progressive thinking and declined the offer. In a comparative thought humans don't eat halflings, so why should a Gnoll eat dog? He often thought about this when washing the dogs of the townsfolk.
He couldn't help noticing the muddy sorcerer and wondered if he was some how related to the re-deceased Earl Gray he's been hearing so much about. He was usually weary of magic users because of their knowledge of the arcane he happened to know very little about. Praying for miracles and making miracles were both very different and he was quite certain he wasn't an engine for miracles, or at he wasn't aware of it.
[was the sorcerer suspicious looking at all?]
For a brief moment, Ilsendre found it ironic that children were following HIM around...most of the time lowly canines would follow children around and beg for snacks they may or may not smell in their pockets. It wasn't long after he realized it was just his canine blood thinking for itself again, he was above begging four leggers but he was not unkind to them.
When he reaches the counter he makes sure not to rest his Halberd against his shoulder, instead he holds it so it stands beside him only to show he is ready for what he might ask of him, it was part of Paladin etiquette. His ears perk up a little bit more after hearing that fellow gnolls are taking part in tarnishing the world's opinion of them even further, he narrows his gaze a bit out of minor frustration. "Lady Mishra, as much as it upsets me that kinsmen are doing this, why would they be taking captives for someone who hides their name behind a title of Bringer? Is he a known foe to you, m'lady?"
He smiles a little bit when hearing Zheosyth's name, she was brave and full of integrity whether she would admit it or not. He certainly admired her on some level. "I will have to have to make my leave soon then, it isn't proper to keep a lady waiting."
Retnu decides to go check out Mishra's shop after a nice 6 hour nap.
Retnu: as you leave the inn, you almost plow over a grungy sorcerer, whose rat familiar glares at you with angry little beady eyes. You reach Mishra's shop in time to hear Ilsendre ask if the Bringer of the Void is a enemy.
She nods in your direction as she asnwers Ilsendre. "Me specifically? No, but what I have been hearing isn't good. He, or she, no one knows for sure, has been playing with magic so ancient, only the absolutely most learned sages and oldest of gods has even the begining on a clue. Greetings Retnu! Have you come because of my note?"
<side note: Retnu doesn't get heckled by Cornelius, who is off finding something trasty to eat>