Chapter 1: Coins for everyone

Lilian Rosepepper is a gnomish gypsy. While he knows quite a few people, he seems to have taken to some of the lower of the lowlifes at the bazaar. He's spent most of the morning looking for someone rough enough who'll listen to him; "I've got a promise for coin for any of you looking for work!" He called out to those he thought looked the toughest and the more desperate. Half the time he got spat on once he told his tale, while others just walked away.

Finally two unlikely candidates stuck to take Rosepepper's offer, or perhaps they were still listening to his long winded narrative. A tall and lanky haunt of a lizard person clothed in a rough spun cowl, and a filthy youth in rags with a dim and vicious look on her face. They stood towering over the gnome has he prattled his plea at them when the event occurred.

"Whuinna fuggin' piss is happenin'?!" The filthy young girl grunts amidst the eruption of earth and sky. The lizard man hisses disagreeably.

"You see?!" Lilian cries to Fingers and Murt, his high piping voice cutting over the screams of commoners as the plummet to their death. "It's just what I was telling you! My life is at risk!! Stick with me, and you'll have the coin from those you slay but just keep me alive!"

((Per aaronschmidt's request I took some liberties with everyone's relationships, I hope no one minds!))

Mr. Pretzel, part of Stearvall's travelling band of gypsies, shouts in anger at one of the other gypsies, Lilian Rosepepper. He appears to be fairly typical as far as goblins go. He stands roughly three feet tall with floppy ears that stick straight out from the sides of his face. His large, orange eyes constantly dart to and fro for threats or an easy target for his tradecraft. He has a small patch of reddish-orange hair he keeps slicked straight back. His clothes are not too terribly dirty or torn, a high accomplishment for one such as Mr. Pretzel, although all he has to keep his baggy green pants from falling down is a bit of rope tied in a knot and his red sleeveless vest is held closed with bits of wire and string.

His high, tinny voice carries over the din of the bazaar. "Nyeh! Those were my marks... I mean customers! You have no right!" He begins waddling over to Lilian, waving his hex doll he uses to "curse" the enemies of his customers for coppers. It is a poor excuse, little more than a small, tattered bundle of scraps with two broken buttons for eyes.

Before he can reach his gnomish rival, the ruptures appear. Mr. Pretzel nearly has a heart attack from fright, and he begins darting all throughout the bazaar looking for an exit. Failing to find one he ends up behind Thagr Arnsbeodi who seems to be the most well-equipped. Keeping the armed dwarf between himself and the endless serpent monster, Mr. Pretzel quickly stuffs his hex doll into his right pocket and from his left he pulls a small sling. Reaching down to pick up some of the small stones that crumbled from the erupting street, he eyes the spilled coin, wondering if he could sneak over there and fill the remainder of his pocket space...

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Flaudette Sniresnap was content pleading for coppers for the Beggar's Guild all day today. She could make some coin, get some food in her belly (despite the quality, gruel was gruel), and rest easy among the other beggars. They looked out for each other. Well, except for the new elf and dwarf vagrants who showed up recently ((Naatkinsons' dwarf vagrant and Siva)). Those two definitely did not belong to the Guild. Scooching away from them and towards Ol' Elderberry as he liked to be called, Flaudette was about to engage in some beggar gossip when the hells literally broke loose!

Springing from her perch, the crutches she used to feign "feebleness" forgotten on the cobblestones, Flaudette immediately shoots for the pile of coin to the west. With her lithe form carrying her easily through the throng of people running for their lives, her black hair done up in dreadlocks flings wildly behind her. She keeps the dirt of the streets purposefully arranged on her face to look like makeup, and her strapless leather top, black skirt, and leg wraps are spotted with holes and tears.

Seeing the halfling samdu herder Agobard with the same idea as her, Flaudette simply nods to her fellow short statured survivor and continues to stuff coin into her upturned skirt.

---

Lavender Goombs *finally* had a decent score this morning. With the human priest ((Naatkinson's human priest)) cornered in a small alleyway and his shiv against the poor man's throat, Lavender grinned devilishy at the holy man. I'm sure to come away with something for the boss this morning! That is, until fate decided NOW was the proper time to unleash another rupture... "Bullocks! This ain't over, priesty." Dropping the man's robes, Lavender rushed out into the common area to survey the carnage.

Lavender Goombs stands tall, just over six feet with a shaved head and a thick, unkempt beard. His leather jerkin flaps open at the chest and a short cloth cape is clasped at his neck with the symbol of his street gang; the Hawks. Strapped leather sandals wrap up his legs and leather armbands cover his forearms with strips of cloth wrapped around his fists.

Lavender eyes the endless serpent to the south and the spillage of coins to the west, now with a growing group of people looking to cash in on the random effect of the rupture. Curse that snake beast and curse the coin! No easy way out... Guess I could take my chances with that singing. With a grimace he carefully approaches the wall of smoke and singing to the North looking for a way through, his small shiv held in front of him.

Stearvall was an average height, overweight and dirty man, but no one that met his noticed any of that the tattoos where all they saw, a ‘gift’ from some wizard who thought to use him as a part of some elaborate ritual a dzen years ago. He looked around the bazaar with a smile the Gypsy folk had taken to him, they were an odd lot with their prideful instance that one name was not enough, it was hard to tell what they wanted but each one had brought him customers, and enough info to sell the fortune, Had he really told that Samdu look towards the setting sun for "The reward he was due"? He ticks through the cards eyes closed naming them by feel when the sound of the coins comes from the east.

Siva was enjoying a shady nap under the parked Gypsy waggon, Gypsies are good luck they are the only thing the guards hate worse than a vagrant and for a copper ol’ Elias had promised that he would whistle if the watch showed. His mind wandered as he enjoyed the shade. Siva worked hard at two things, hiding his heritage and not working. He wore lose tattered clothing and he kept his hair long enough to cover his ears, but it would soon be time for a trim, the barber near the docks was good for a free cut for a good story of it chairs where free. His eyes snap open at the sound of the coins, and the blinding pain hits him as he sits up into the bottom of the waggon. He rolls out and his hand lands on a well smoothed hardwood cudgel that some watchman had left behind. The snake thing fills his view. "No. No. No!"

Narder Folcey, should be working, he should be shilling for the Fortune Teller like Mr. Pretzel said, but that begger girl with her strange hair was very pretty, he had never seen a lizard man before, and an actual dwarf with a sword. He was young and stick thin but he had a knack for being missed, and for being distracted. ’did that pretty girl just grow a leg, where is she heading with that sling of hers’ Narder jumped up to follow a stone in his own sling before he even noticed the earth monster.

Flaudette takes what coins she can grab off the ground while keeping a wary eye on the monkey. Once everything within reach seems to have been picked over she begins to back away, motioning for Abogard to follow. "I dunno about that creature. Usually those that got that much coin to fritter away are doin’ it with some other notion in mind ‘sides generosity... I say we stick to the group on the other side o’ the bazaar. That snake thing seems to’ve solidified into some kinda structure. Maybe it’s a way outta here?" With that she continues to back away towards the snake-turned-tower while keeping an eye on the monkey.

By contrast, Mr. Pretzel instead moves closer to the new entity with a cautious smile on his face. "Hehe... What’s your name smokey monkey? You and The Bountiful One have more coin for Mr. Pretzel? Maybe we can... be friends?" He seems to have dropped some of his guard, letting his sling hang from his left hand he stuffs his pockets with the found coppers in his right and walks forward, holding his now empty hand out to accept the gift being offered.

Stearvall pulls his dagger, holding at along the back of his arm, he moves towards the smoke creature. "Greetings, Most Generous One, I am Stearvall I see the weave of fate, how can I serve you?" he bows to the thing, never taking his eyes from it.

Siva looks back at Thagr, "what now Gonnhirrim?" he grips the club thinking of his youth and the life he left behind. The new wall blocking him and the smoking fiend, the elf looks for an escape route.


Narder moves over to Flaudette, "pardon my forwardness, I am Narder would you have any interest in fleeing with me?" He gives a slight bow and an indication to the way "free" to the north before rushing headlong into the smoke.

Flaudette seems startled by the gypsy at first, but despite all the chaos she manages a small smile. Well, he is young and handsome... and he has manners! Plus who knows what's in that tower-thingy. She makes a beeline for the wall of smoke before stopping to find Abogard in the madness. "Hey! Samdu Herder! This singing smoke seems to be the way out with the least risk. If'n you're willing then let's get outta here!" She turns and hesitantly steps into the smoke, perking her ears to try and make out the song along the way.