Kazmak stops playing with a dagger and looks up. "Find the lil' Duke him a bride, all right. Did plenty of bride findin' back with me folks. Can't say I like it – rather be taking some gnoll heads, Ares be my witness – but if the price is right... What say the rest o' ye?"

The half-elf raises a single eyebrow with a wry smile, and Minron says, "I've brokered unusual deals in the past, but never securing a bride.  Given our current circumstances though it seems like easy coin.  I'm in."

[OK then, i'll get the IC thread up tomorrow.

Once it's up, if everyone can re-post their character in their first post in the thread, we're good to go.]

Feel free to natter among yourselves here until i post the IC thread tomorrow!

Yared is beginning to get animated and nods at Kazmak. "Well, gnolls are a good sight prettier without their heads, I won't deny that, but with what happened to Miron the poor changeling was left without so much as a rock to bath their heads with so perhaps something with a bit softer hide than gnolls would be a good place to start.

We need to find a good girl who'll walk through fire for this Duke and then light one up and send her through. The King will take care of the rest."

Yared fingers his head head in a sunburst holy symbol and looks up at the sun. "I might even be feeling a bit of prophesy coming on."

OOC: rough plan, we investigate what the Duke's Regent is looking for. Then I prophecize that the Duke bride will be able to walk through a bonfire unhurt. Then we send a girl through a nice big fire unscathed thanks to my Resist Fire spell (makes people completely immune to normal fires for a while) and with some showmanship we impress the Duke.

Miron chuckles with an amused tone as he absently rubs his chin, "yeah, it might work."

Looking to Yared, he asks honestly, "but, you're sure you can make this girl fireproof?  We'd be in a sticky situation if she barbecues before her groom's eyes no doubt."

Finishing a row and stopping his seemingly incessant knitting needles, Iowain beams to the rest a smile difficult to see from standing in the bright light between them and the sun. "That does sound like enough to convince a Baron, my reverend tutor. But perhaps wouldn't it be better for us to collect information first? The King's light might shine upon a path unforeseen."

"I fear I may not be all that inspiring of confidence to a man so important. But maybe I can make myself useful here. The elders of this surrounding area must know much, and I feel I can be a good listener." Resuming his work, running off purls upon a very tiny bootie, Iowain tails off, "Besides, there are a few more things I wanted to do in Cadsandria..."

Link to new thread

http://www.therpgsite.com/showthread.php?t=28561

Please just paste your characters to it and i'll set the scene later.

OOC: posted character sheet to the other thread, I'll keep the IC convo going here to not gum up the front page with blather.

IC:

Yared smiles indulgently at Iowain and Miron. "If her heart is pure then the King in Splendor will surely save her if not, well, cremation is a method of burial with much to recommend it," the priest says with a shrug.

"But, yes, let us investigate the matter first. It might also be good if the Duke Regent were not overly informed of any collusion between the bride finders and the bride testers. That might lead to unfortunate misunderstandings which might get in the way of the wedding feast."

At that point Yared begins rambling on wedding feasts from back home and the best methods of barbequing whole oxen, which mostly seem to involve honey marinades.

OOC: as far as I can tell you can drop the girl into a blast furnace and as long as Resist Fire has been cast on her she'll be fine for the duration.

Miron sniffs his shirt with a miserable look and says, "well, if we're going to try and impress a noble into giving us a job, then perhaps we should wash and brush our clothes."

Passing his gaze over Kazmak, the half-elf looks to Iowain and Yared and asks with a smile, "do you happen to have a sliver of soap?  Can I borrow you horse brush for my clothes?"

Kazmak gives Miron a pointed, ferine look, followed almost immediately by a wry grin, and silently goes back to playing with his dagger.

After a few seconds' worth of silence, he suggests, "Don't this Regent person have people takin' care of this sorta thing? I mean, if he be a nice tidy smellin' of flowers nobleman, I don' think he'd come down in person to hire the likes a' the sorry penniless bunch of us all."

Kazmak drains what little ale is left in his mug. "There must be a servant of some sorts scouring the alleys and ale-houses for the rascals and rapscallions the likes of us, assuming this place don't have guilds and gangs taking care a' this sorta thing already. And they may be mighty displeased to see a buncha out-of-town folk doing their thing, if you know what I mean. Specially such a rich fine job as getting a Duke-bride."

Miron chuckles softly with pleasure in seeing that his silent barb hit its mark accurately, and says to Kazmak with a straight face continuing his innocent fun, "well, I'll defer to your vast experience in such matters, Kaz."

"Respectable Kazmak, you are correct. I gather we would look rather out of the norm, especially as outsiders, to speak nothing of our habits. What marquis would give audience to such an inconsiderate motley?" Blushing visibly at the thought, Iowain crosses himself to abjure misfortune. Looking guiltily for failing to be of even basic use, "I take your meaning and shall work very hard to understand the mores and manners of our hosts."

Turning to Miron, "Perhaps a visit among the baths and laundry is in order. I should have some copper to share for you to freshen up." Pausing, looking up from sudden inspiration, "Maybe I can then take the opportunity to ply my herbal knowledge to see what they need in the way of soaps, lotions, and oils. And few compare to me when drying delicates and knits. I am righteous with a hot iron!"

Iowain closes his eyes, thinking of the moist warmth of steam and unconsciously takes a deep breath. More than once it opened his plugged lungs to healing expectoration. "A domestic job around here might be just the key for me to embed and gather information."

Yared seems pleased that his acolyte had found a way to get the elf cleaned up, dung-fired sweat baths had always been good enough for him but perhaps not what the changeling was used to.

"Yes, of course, we must gain the trust of the locals. I've not often rubbed shoulders with Dukes but I think I can win the hearts of the common people who that they will cry out for whichever girl we select. And let us make sure that it is a sweet girl with a pure heart, I would not have the Duke being lead astray, there is enough darkness in these lands as it is."

Iowain leans in to read the notices slower, "Oh, he's a duke."

Suddenly, Kazmak seems concerned. "Dukes ain't in the habit of marryin' any pretty milkmaid off the fields 'cuz he took a fancy to her eyes. They marry because of dowries an' lands an' alliances an' such. Bet you a gold to the copper that the Regent's already thinkin' of some high-and-mighty blue-blood girl living inside a castle and surrounded by men-at-arms, and wants us to either do some persuadin' or --" here he breaks that wry, fanged grin of his "bride findin' the way me folks and I used ta do it".

Kaz turns around, yells some Orcish expletive at the serving-wench and points at his empty mug before turning back to his comrades. "Putting on a mummer's farce with fire an' sech be a fine idea but if I was Regent? Could care less about what the dirty rabble thinks it's best for the lil' Duke and the duchy I was runnin'."

"In any case, tough job. We should charge good. Ye know, her weight in gold or somethin'."