The newcomer
Spriga Comes to Arundal for the first time looking for work, what she finds may turn into her first adventure...
Arundal-West Market
The Arudal market place is not the largest market in mossflower but certainly one of the more memorable. There is no shape to compare the market too as this section of the village is built mostly into the side of the hill. The road is paved with brightly colored cobble stones. Darker cobble stones have been placed with purpose into a Celtic knot design surrounded by a square outline in the center of the market place.
The surrounding village is made up of mostly one or two story buildings. Shops made from wood selling various wares from clothing to food can be seen here. The buildings are painted various colors yellow, green, white, almost all have red finishes around the edges.
Cutting the market place in half is a small river. Flowing down the hillside the river cuts across the cobble stones before feeding into the valley in the form of a water fall. The river is shallow and fast moving, its sides are lined with a small stone barrier. A wide stone bridge crosses the river to the second market place. Right before the water goes tumbling off the edge of the cliff a large mill has been placed here but it looks like it is only accessable from the other side.
Spriga roams around, looking for anyone who might be interested in hiring somebeast to come with their caravan. She had seen much ore coming out of here, and wanted a piece of that wealth.
The Arundal West Market place is indeed busy this afternoon with beasts of all sorts. There is however an unspoken tension in the air. Beasts Wearily avoid each other, especially vermin avoiding the Militia members out on patrol and visa versa. Merchant stalls are set up around the market place selling wares from weapons to clothing. A slender gold furred feline walks about the cobble stone market place looking for the right kind of food to pick up for his family. He wears a simple waist coat over a frilled shirt. Beasts seem to avoid him as much as the vermin avoid the green glad militia.
Spriga looks over the situation with a weather eye, saying, "There be a lot of tension here, aye. I need to watch me step." She watches the feline for a moment, then approaches him, "Sir, do ye know if any merchants be hirin'?"
The cat turns on his heel, tail poofing out wide and sending the bag of veggies and tuna flying back at the merchant he just bought them from. Taking a moment to catch his breath Thaddius Sharpclaw appologizes for his outburst, "Er, sorry about that. You just kind of...startled me. I'm sorry, what was that about merchants?"
Spriga points to her ragged and still salty-smelling self, "I am looking for work 'ere. Preferably legal, though it not need be honest." She chuckles a bit, "I was hoping you'd know who might be hirin' in town."
The cat raises an eyebrow and rubs the back of his head, "Might be best to not mention the 'not need be honset' part to a lawyer lass." He shrugs, "But at this point there is no one left to arrest you even if you did commit a crime. Y-you kind of came at a...rough patch in our cities history. The police have all jumped ship and the Militia are here to keep the piece." He rubs at his chin, looking the stoat up and down, "The merchants here are always looking for another paw to help out, some might even hire vermin types. If that doesn't work out for you well, there is always Silver Valley to the north. That's where most vermin species l-live." The cat pauses again, "What kind of job were you hoping to do for them? Selling goods or pushing them?"
Spriga frowns and says, "Well, I was thinkin' of working with transportn's all of this ore around, I'm a beast o' travel and good at loadin' and halin' goods for me size."
Thad seems to think about this for a moment. He looks the stoat over once again. "Well, I know of two beasts you might find a good job for. Here in West market there is a beast named Archibald Sylvana, he's an older squirrel who runs a delevery service. They transport things around town to all the merchants and the mines. Down in Silver Valley there is a lizard named Siro Ghirardelli, he...well, he works mostly for the mines, shiping silver off to other cities. Or so he says. He's been in and out of court on charges of smuggling things to and from the city."
Spriga thinks over it quickly, but the on-edge Woodland Militia that passed her made up her mind, "Where is this Siro lizardbeast? I wants to talk to him."
The cat chuckles, "Where he always is, The Fat Dragon Salloon down in Silver Valley." The cat gives directions to the stoat, "There are two ways to get there, either go to the end of main street, head north to potters road then east until you reach the Valley...or the easiest, which is just head back out of arundal and follow the path north east until you come to the city." Crossing his arms Taddius replies again, "A word of advice, be carefull...Silver Valley is not for the faint of heart, its a rough and tumble place."
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Rough and tumble indeed. The cat's description is modest to be sure. Spriga arrives in Silver Valley as the clock strikes Thirteen. The dirt roads have been turned into mud by last nights rain fall. Most of the population here are vermin or woodlanders hearty enough to survive here. The Fat Dragon Saloon is a two story building with a thatch roof and hastily constructed walls. A fox lays past out face first int he mud in front of the doors, bottle of ale tightly grasped in his right paw.
Spriga chuckles at the fox, but nonetheless offers a paw to help him up to his footpaws, "This is the kind o' place me like. Far from the lap-o' luxury, but filled with the brim fer oppertunity and adventure."
The gold furred fox is gratefull for the help. He has a black eye and smiles at the stoat, half waving to her with and spilling ale over himself as he does. The fox staggers away past a large group of militia Lancers that are patrolling the street. There are four total, each heavily armed with pikes, shields, plate armor under green cloaks. THey cast a worried eye at the vermin around them but its unlikely they would stop to stop a crime even if they saw one committed. They are only here to make their pressence known...for now at least. Inside there seems to be a large ruckus or party going on.
Spriga asks the drunkard fox as she tries to sneak her past the group an into a nearby alley, "So, what went on there, why is everyone partyn'?"
The fox turns on his heel, loosing his balance and falling into the group of militia who catch him before he falls to the ground, "Why not? It's always a party at the Saloon when the shift at the mines ends!" With disgust the militia drop the fox into the mud where he continues to laugh. The militia beasts turn and continue to patrol down the street, perhaps at a faster pace.
Spriga tsks tsks the fox and helps pick her back up, "You could have gotten us into trouble, you sillybeast." She manages to take him to a nearby alley and sit her down on a mud-free sidewalk, "Have you seen this big lizard guy? I need to talk ter him about somethin'"
The gold furred fox chuckles. He wears a thick pair of mining trousers and a portly beer belly sticks out from under his muddy tunic. "Ha! Trouble they say, all two of you...those Militiaiaiia beasts won't bother me...I'll give em a piece of my mind I will..." He rolls his eyes about then shakes his head, "You mean Drago the bar keep? he is a BIG lizard...or...oh! Siro? Yeah I've seen him, he's at his...his usual spot...back there in the corner of the bar...never sits down unless his back is to the wall that one..." The fox hic ups and goes to take another swig of ale.
Spriga grumbles, "Sounds like the paraniod type, I might want to tread carefully around him." Leaving the alley and the fox behind now that he's safe, she enters the rowdy in, quite ready for anything that might await her in there.
A small weasel goes flying across the room in front of the stoat as she enters. The bar itself is nothing more than a dirt floor with a couple of logs surrounding a large fire pit in the center. A few barrols and wire spindles have been set up as provisionary tables. A thick oak bar runs along side the left. Behind it is a large broad shouldered and heavy set monitor lizard. On the far end of the room crowded with miners of all species, is a table in the corner where a lone monitor lizard sits. His scales are green and he wears a black cloth shirt under a vest made from otter hides stitched together. His claws are decorated in various golden rings, and while he has a good deal of muscle to his arms his waist has given ground to a life time of heavy eating and drinking. He is cutting into a plate full of steak of all things.
Spriga would rather not ask what the steak is from. That guy looks like he could twist her into a pretzel. But she was Spriga Northlander, not some cowardly searat. So she walked up the the burley monitor and asks him, "Are you Siro?"
The monitor lizard cuts off a peice of his steak, stabs it and eats it off the knife, after chewing it into peices he replies, "That I am, that I am." The uses the bib around his neck to wipe away juicy bits of food from his maw. "Who's looking?" He replies with a gravely voice.
Spriga searches the room and smirks at him, "Nobody important, from what I see. I was gonna offer me services to as a...cargo shipper." She suddenly understood the need for some secrecy, though she still half-worried this lizard was a madbeast.
Siro rubs at his chin for a moment. He seems to size her up. "Are ye now?" He makes a series of grunting noises. It takes a moment to figure out that it is laughter, "Well you have come to the right place. I ship silver and ore out to the surrounding villages among ...other things. It's the 'other things' I need help wid at the moment."
Spriga crosses her arms and grins, revealing a missing left canine tooth, "What are those other things, then? I'll do anything so long as it doesn't git me into too much trouble."
More laughter, "Trouble only happens if you get caught." The fat lizard leans back in his chair smiling and picking his teeth. "See, me and the last sheriff had an agreement. Byron didn't look to closely at what I brought into the city, or out. But the sheriff jumped ship see? He aint here no more, and now they have this Militia officer filling in for him. Tavis. The mouse doesn't care for me much and he isn't exactly forgiving to what some might accuse of being smugglers..."
Spriga nods and says, "I am thankfully a fairly sneaky beast. I will need some sort of proper weapon jus' in case, but I assure yer, whatever goods you ship, I kin get them in. This beast only has one reservation, if the cargo's slaves, I expect backup in case they run off."
The monitor chuckles, "Funny you should mention slaves...but that is for another day. For right now I just need a beast to run a small errend for me. Think of it as a test run, do well and I will give you a more permanent position. IF you fail, well, I never met you in my life and your on your own." He points to the bar, "See my brother over there behind the bar makes some mean wood pidgeon. Unfortunately the militia have banned the birds from being brought in town. Go talk with Draco over there. He needs you to find a way past the patrols to get a wagon full of birds into the city."
Spriga salutes and tells Siro, "Yessir, yer the captain." She covertly slips over to the bar and looks like a patron, trying to get Draco's attention. She also hopes beyond all hope that her new boss won't actually make her run slaves. Its too risky, too much work and gets you branded a monster even among some communities of vermin. She didn't want to deal with all of that.
Draco looks down at the stoat with noticable distain. As a bar tender to the chaotic horde of beasts behind Spriga it might just be the natural look he has aquired. "Brother hired you?" Before he can get an asnwer he whistles loudly. A small red scaled lizard with a black underbelly wearing a ratty brown tunic appears, "Trsk, take this lady to the cart. You know where to lead her." The red lizard gulps, "Y-yes boss."
Spriga nods at the lizard and follows him, paw on the hilt of her rusting ancesteral dagger. She felt exited, but also nervous, but only showed an impassive face to the world as she prepared herself for her first job.
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Spriga
What you see before you is a fairly typical mossflower stoat, probably from corsair stock, judging by the very dark brown of her main body fur and the buttery yellow-white of her chin and stomach area. Her gaunt form is covered in somewhat improvised clothes, a tunic made from several others stiched together so that it is several shades of green, and short pants apparently made of used sailcloth, tied with a rope belt. She wears no other clothing, and appears to be unarmed save for a small dagger in a rusting sheath she keeps tied to her belt, clearly rarely used.
Silver Valley
This section of Silver Valley is dedicated more to entertainment and shops than homes. There are poorly constructed taverns and shanti like buildings made from wood lining the vaguely defined street. When the sun shines the road is made from dirt and gravel, when it rains, it is made from mud. The walls of the valley widen out enough to accommodate a single road with buildings, mostly taverns, a few shops, and the occasional stall or peddler of 'fine' goods. Up to the north the enterence to the mines are clearly seen.
