(The Cleansing Fire) Paying a Visit to the Market

[Jag]

Continued from here

Having entered through the shadow of the Guy West pedestrian bridge, the group of Lost found themselves standing at the edge of the infamous Fleshmarket. For those who had visited the foul place before, it looked the same as it always did. For those who had been fortunate enough -- up to this point -- to never visit the place before, the realization that they were in a repulsive place came quick to them. The putrid smells of fresh and dried blood filled their nostrils, as well as the stench of death. As usual, the market guards stood by the entrance, looking menacing as usual.

Coming to this place was a sacrifice they had to make, in order to get further information on the pyromaniacs that had been wandering through the local Hedge. But what would be the cost of such information? Nothing was ever free at the markets, and in this place, many had to pay for things in their own blood...

Feel free to describe your characters' entrance into the scene. Since we are continuing from the previous one, I'm assuming everyone's got the same equipment and they didn't ditch anything. But just in case, please repost it in spoilers! Thanks

[Malcolm Green]

Green makes a face. A frown wrinkles his brow. He sniffs, coughs, gags. He raises an arm to his lips, as if he hopes his heavy coat can block out the stench that rolls of this... place.

"Fuck!" He breathes and coughs. "Any of you come here often?" He directs his question to his comrades as they gather.

Now that they have reached their destination, he fumbles with his ax, sequestering it in his sling bag.

Green will be waring his great coat (1/0 armour). He will have his axe and a sling bag containing some food and water, along with a few smaller bags for anything he finds. If he has had chance, he will have returned to his home and picked up the TOKEN he won so long ago and the goblin fruit he had ready for the aborted poker game.

[Lesingnon]

"No, I don't." He'd never been here before, actually. With good reason, as far as he was concerned. Because he'd certainly heard plenty about the damn place. It was a pity that Fairweather hadn't decided to get through this pit.

"Never had any reason to." He shifts his pack slightly across his shoulders as he speaks. His equipment was much the same as it had been at Eryssa's...plus the oddments that had been recovered from Milford's remains all those years ago, foul things that they were. They might come in handy if he had to barter for information, and he wouldn't exactly be sorry to be rid of the things.

gear

staff :: pistol :: bowie knife :: kevlar vest :: nine-volt battery :: cell phone :: wallet :: keys :: small first aid kit :: multi-tool :: flashlight :: paracord :: survival candle :: emergency blanket :: signaling mirror :: emergency whistle :: lighter :: water bottle :: portable water filter :: incense :: whetstone :: wire survival saw :: poncho :: ammo :: waterproof matches :: stack of nametags with his name written on them :: Fetch oddments

[Dusan]

Justin pulled up the collar of his undershirt against the smell.....which to him came across as a pile of month old shit stacked up and left to ferment under three weeks worth of high humidity and unwavering heat. If his lacking senses could hit on the odor, then the others must be in pure hell.

"Fuck this place and fuck the people who work in it. Too bad the dragon didn't make a side trip here before burning us out back home."

Blue unblinking eyes narrowed at their destination. If it was up to him he would have the place levelled in an instant but this wasn't their home grounds, it was not in Warriors' territory and he didn't want to do anything that would cause a call for them to come out and play.

equipment

Knife (tucked into top of right boot), 30 ft of rope, a large bag of trail mix, 4 energy bars, three 20 oz bottles of water, first aid kit, two Lunchables kits that do not require refrigeration and a road flare (in backpack) In pocket of jumpsuit he is carrying a small battery.

[Lesingnon]

"It did." He couldn't quite help but wonder if any signs of that yet remained. "He just wasn't as thorough here. But I doubt there's much love for Fairweather lost here, which could work to our advantage." Hell, if they got really desperate they could maybe even see if the hatred that Sal held for Fairweather would be enough for her to point them in the right direction.

He sincerely hoped they didn't get that desperate.

[Malcolm Green]

Lowering his arm, Green busied himself by adjusting the shoulder strap of his bag.

"Lets get this over with. Hey! Anyone negotiated with these guys before. I'd like to know what their currency is before we start."

His face turned to Rick when the Air Touched spoke, wondering what secrets the other Elemental knew regarding this sickening place.

[Jag]

Bump Greebs , Ambrose

[Lesingnon]

Rick could only shrug in response to Green's question. "It's a Goblin Market, and an unscrupulous one at that. There's no telling what they'll ask for; a childhood memory, some choice goblin fruits, the silvered tongue of a known liar...it all depends on who you're talking to, what the value of the thing you're bartering for is, whether they think they can pull one over on you, etc."

There's a pause as he looks back at the place, nose wrinkling as he caught another whiff of the stench wafting off from it. Not for the first time, and not for the last, he wished that Fairweather had reduced the entire place to ash and rubble. "There's a reason I don't come here much, after all."

[Jag]

From afar, the group noticed that the market had been rebuilding some. As Rick had mentioned, they had suffered some misfortune of their own when Fairweather attacked, and while the whole place had not burned to the ground, the Fleshmarket had seen its fair share of losses. However, it was evident that they had put forth the effort in rebuilding what they had lost. Still, remnants of charred wood and ash could be found amongst the stalls. Some of the damage seemed more recent though, which likely meant that the little hob had not lied.

Ambrose , you still with us?