Jump to content


  • Please log in to reply
2 replies to this topic

#1 Guest_MorningGlory_*

Posted 06 October 2012 - 10:47 PM


From the Journals and Papers of Dr. MorningGlory Gaeston
(Rated PG-13: Adult themes, mild language, violence,)


Everyone was up long before the sun shone over the eastern horizon. As we gathered outside in the still and damp of the first glimmer of dawn, seeing them prepared to leave was no easier this time than it was the first time.

“Be very careful, my love,” I whispered against Hendak's cheek as he held me against the cold unyielding armor. “Come home to us safely. We love you.”

“Do not worry, my love. I will be fine. But you must promise to take no foolish chances,” he admonished me lovingly and kissed my forehead.

We watched the little band start down the darkened alleyway. They would be gone more than a ten-day all totaled and hopefully, our little world would be much safer by the time they returned.

We returned to the dining room for tea and Margarite returned upstairs with the twins to feed them their morning meal.

“I will have more illithium delivered this morning,” said Waukeen. “But I will have to make a quick trip to the Outlands to secure it.”

“Thank you Mother Waukeen,” I said, my moodiness already setting in from Hendak’s departure. I turned to Connor. “If Nigel can assist you with the salts this morning, I will begin the party preparations. I need to go to the parchment stationers over by my office at the Promenade and order the invitations written and delivered. Maybe I will take a moment and see Charona while I am there. In any case, I should return by noon meal.”

“Oh, yes, Dr. Saltzson,” Nigel began. “I would be most honored to assist you, sir, if you would allow me.”

“I welcome your assistance and your company,” Connor smiled. “Yes, Glory. You go and do that and we can begin the distillation of the preventative.”

“And you, Father? What is on your agenda?” I asked, wondering what he would do with Waukeen in the Outlands for the day.

“I have not been resting on my laurels, my darling Daughter. I am in the process of procuring another two Kirani birds for our little soiree and I will be inspecting their fine feathers this morning before I accept delivery.”

“That’s wonderful, Father,” I said, delighted at the prospect we would have a total of four stationed about our party.

Drusay appeared at the door. “Madam Glory, Master Linvail and Maurice have arrived.”

“Yes. Thank you, Drusay. Please take Maurice into the lounge and put his perch by the window. I’ll be there in a moment.” I hadn’t heard the door chime. I looked at the others. “Well, time to become more self-reliant,” I said.

“I wish you would give up this silly notion,” said Father. “There is no reason for you to be engaging in such nonsense. Self-reliance….” He shook his head.

“Tabor,” cooed Waukeen. “There is certainly nothing wrong with Glory being desirous of being self-reliant. An admirable trait which I am quite sure she gained from you.” She chided him gently then turned to me. “My darling Daughter, I have a small gift for you. Wear it and it will enhance your skill with your daggers.” She waved her hand and a small runed box appeared in front of me. I opened it to a small, carved band of gold. I slipped it on and felt the feather of a tingle seep through my hand and arm.

“Thank you, Mother Waukeen. It is a wonderful treasure.” Her thoughtfulness of gifting something so personal touched me deeply. Maybe she understood more of self-esteem and self-reliance than I realized. I reminded myself that she had been imprisoned for a very, very long time – even by Goddesses’ standards -- and she had never spoken of went on during her captivity. I rose, bid my farewells and walked to the door where Aran waited with my cloak. There was much to bring him up to date in the scant few hours since yesterday afternoon.

“They left this morning,” I finished explaining as we neared the cabin along the narrow private road. “And the party is scheduled in six days time, so I need to go to the Promenade Stationers after lessons. I think I will stop by and see Charona as well. Make sure my office is still in one piece.” The inference was lost on him as he sat thinking.

He nodded as he absently-mindedly bit at his thumbnail. “I will take you to the stationers when we are finished. And I will arrange for some additional equipment to be delivered to Connor this morning. Would an assortment of lab equipment suffice?”

“I am sure he would be grateful for anything you could send him,” I replied. “Just ordinary supplies. Beakers, tubing – things of that nature.”

He nodded again. “And the assassin squad you need—“

I interrupted him. “Not until the day before the party. And I want to go with them.”

“Excuse me? I thought I heard you say you want to go with them??” Well, that certainly got his attention as his hand dropped from his mouth. He shook his head and arched both eyebrows. “That is not an option, my Lady. You can dispense with that idea as it is not going to happen.” He was emphatic.

“I want to go with them. We truly need one illithid alive, and the risk will be minimal, Aran, and I know how to capture it.” Well, I stretched the truth just a little. All I really knew was I had to get a collar on one of the slimy bastards without throwing up on him and without him attaching himself to me.

“This is absurd, Glory. No, you are not going and that is the end of the discussion.”

“Then I will take Connor and Nigel." I hadn't intended it, but the words had a ring of petulance to them -- something akin to what a five-year old might inflect. I tried reason. "We’ve proven the preventative works perfectly, and between the three of us, we can protect ourselves, along with a little assistance from Father.” If I thought Aran had had such a negative reaction, I could only imagine how out of control Father would be at the mere suggestion of me going to the sewers to catch an illithid.

“You would dare defy me?” he asked, his voice low and automatic. He caught me by surprise.

“You would dare to impose your wishes upon me, good Sir?” I responded immediately. “The last time I checked, you were Shadowmaster of the Shadow Thieves, not.. not... Glorymaster of MorningGlory Gaeston.”

He decided to take a different tact. “Glory, you cannot go running around the sewers of Athkatla when you can’t even defend yourself against.. against the simple biting flies indigenous to the place! What in nine-hells makes you think you can capture an illithid?” He was controlling the level of his voice, but his face slowly colored to about two steps short of livid.

“I can do this, Aran. I can,” I replied, pleading.

“You are the most exasperating woman I have ever met, Glory,” he said exhaling slowly and shaking his head as he stared out the window, avoiding looking at me. “No. I will have no part of you going to the sewers. It is a needless risk and you will not go with Connor and Nigel, either. You will provide me with four doses of the ingestible salts and I will send my own personal squad. You may instruct one of them on capturing an illithid, if you wish.” He was putting his foot down, and firmly. “I will hear no more of it. Any discussion of you going to the sewers is now closed.” Well, that was that.

I learned at a very young age that you couldn’t argue with someone who would not argue with you. Father had taught me that during my early teen years. But I also learned from Father that there was more than one way to accomplish something important. I still had a little time to formulate my own plan and within my own inherent stubbornness, I would come up with something. I sat indignantly quiet the rest of the short journey.

Lessons were strained between us. He made me take my ring off as he explained I had to learn to do this without any enhancement. His arguments against using it to learn made sense but his tone with me bordered on being cold and sharp, and his usual patience was strained and diminished. It was very apparent that his anger with me over wanting to go to the sewers still bubbled just below the surface.

The ride back to the city was quiet and virtually without conversation, which was most unlike us. We always had something to talk about. Finally he looked at me.

“Glory, your husband is not here to look out for you, and I know he would not—“

I interrupted him in a soft voice, but without looking at him, “And, it is not your job to take his place and suppose what he would do, or what he would want, or what he would not do, or what he would not want, Aran.” That was harsh and probably cruel, and I could have been more diplomatic, but at that moment I felt it needed to be said. There was a long pause.

“You are absolutely correct, Madam,” he finally said softly as I glanced at him. He was slowly nodding his head in affirmation. “I thank you for reminding me of my place -- yet once again.” I had landed a perfect bulls eye that was not intended. I had struck below the quick and with one deftly delivered statement, I had brought blood. I was ashamed of myself.

The remainder of the ride to Waukeen’s Promenade was quiet. Not until it pulled in front of the Scribner's did he speak to me. “The carriage will return after dropping me and await you to conclude your errands, my Lady,” he said as I prepared to disembark. “No need to rush, as you may use it at your leisure should you have appointments today. Just instruct Sergio, the driver.”

“Aran, you will be attending the gala, won’t you?” I asked sheepishly and then paused. “I know we didn't discuss it...” He looked at me and set his jaw, preparing his reply. “I’m going to send an invitation to you.” I finally said.

“I suppose I will be required to, Madam.” His tone was icy.

“Aran, I…I’m sorry. I was most harsh in my words. It was inexcusable on my part,” I began. "I.. I know you care, and that --"

“My Lady, you only pointed out the obvious truth. I should be thankful that you reminded me,” he interjected.

“But I could have been a little more sensitive in how I expressed it,” I said as I leaned over and squeezed his hand. “I..I didn’t intend to hurt you or seem unappreciative of your concern for my safety. I spoke too quickly and too sharply. I…I know you are just trying to protect me, and your concern is appreciated –especially since Hendak is not here. Will you forgive me?” I wasn’t leaving until I got an answer. He looked at me and his eyes suddenly looked tired.

“Of course I forgive you, Glory. And will you forgive me for overstepping my bounds?” he asked, quite sincerely. "I know my place, but I don't always remember."

“There is no fault in action driven by concern,” I smiled and he squeezed my hand as a faint glimmer of a smile crossed his face and he nodded.

“Now you must go,” he prompted me. “I have business to attend to, as do you.” He paused. “...And we will have lessons tomorrow?” He was almost hesitant in asking.

“Of course… Same time, if that fits with your schedule,” I replied as I disembarked the carriage. I turned and caught the door before he closed it. “And, Aran. Thank you. I know I don’t say it often enough, but thank you – for everything.” His eyes briefly brightened.

“It is my pleasure, my Lady,” he replied, and I saw him glance over my shoulder beyond me. He quickly pulled the door closed and I turned to meet face-to-face Lady Sharee Mulholland, probably the second-largest gossipmonger in all of Amn.

“Hello, Glory,” she sidled up to me as we both watched the carriage clatter away. “Wasn’t that Aran Linvail?” she asked, curiosity dripping from her words.

I turned and smiled at her. “Why, yes it was, Sharee. He was kind enough to offer a 'damsel in distress' a ride.”

“Yes, I understand he is, indeed, quite the gentleman... debonair, handsome, refined.. Who cares how he made his fortune! ” she said, a knowing grin spreading across her face as she continued to stare at the carriage rolling down and out of the Promenade. She turned to me, that ‘knowing’ grin still nestled between her large jowls. “And just what brings you into the Promenade so early? I understand you have temporarily halted your practice for a different type of research project. Now I think I might understand.” She nodded toward the disappearing carriage.

I smiled sweetly at her. “Party invitations, Sharee. Be sure and mark your calendar six days hence, but of course, you will also receive your invitation within a day or so. You are still on the A-list, aren’t you?” I asked.

“A party? Ohhhh... How delightful... Well, my darling, of course we are still on the A-list,” she giggled. “And will we see Mr. Linvail at the party?” she leaned to me and whispered.

“I don’t know, Sharee. Is he on the A-list?” I again smiled sweetly and swept past her into the scribners shop. Insufferable cow, I thought.

It took me almost an hour to place my order and select the names from the various ‘lists’ the stationer provided. The scribner assured me that the shop's guest lists were thoroughly up-to-date, so I included everyone on the A-List and the B-List, and most of the C-List. I also ordered one for Aran, who didn’t appear on any list, and I also instructed them to deliver the Mulholland’s invitation a day later than the others.

“Are you sure, Madam?” the stationer asked me over his pince-nez. “They won’t get their invitation until the day after the ‘morrow, and there is an extra charge.”

“Absolutely positive, and whatever extra charge there is, put it on the bill.” Just knowing Sharee would squirm a little when her neighbor Joree got her invitation a day ahead would make it all worthwhile.

I left the store and made my way to the other side of the Promenade. It was still early and there were not many shoppers partaking of the many offerings of the stores and street merchants. However, a small group of people gathered in front of the almost-finished, newly-constructed facade of the northeast corner caught my eye as I fumbled for my key to my office.

Ordinarily, it would not have caught my attention at all, except for the odd composition of the group itself. ‘By the Gods,’ I thought, and mentally recalled our ‘turned’ list. Standing down the way was Marion DuBois the Security General, Moskel Tain, the Director of Prisons, Cayman Nighe, Tanner Macon, the bureaucrat in charge of building permits, and Bodine! There were two others whom I didn’t recognize. ‘By the Gods!!’ I thought again and quickly pulled my hood down over my face and entered through the door, and quickly shut it behind me. They were all turned victims! What in the Gods’ names were they doing congregated in front of the new section of the Promenade at this time of day?!

“Madam! I wasn’t expecting you!” Charona was delighted to see me, then she saw my face as I pulled back my hood and entered the room. I must have alarmed her. “Madam, are you all right? You look terribly pale!”

I nodded. “I’m fine, Charona. Here. Take this cloth and pretend you are dusting off the shingle outside. I want you to watch the group of people gathered down in front of the new section of the Promenade for as long as you can without being obvious and tell me where they go.” I quickly shed my cloak and grabbed a towel from the water closet to hand to her.

“Yes, Madam!” She jumped to attention and took the cloth heading out the door. I was calmed by the time she returned, about five minutes later.

“They all continued to talk and then were joined by another gentleman. I…I couldn’t see who it was. Then they all entered the new building together,” she said completely puzzled.

I sat on the small sofa and shook my head. So that is where the new illithid settlement is, I thought. It was perfectly logical. Riona had told me of the maze of rooms and different levels that originally existed underneath it. It had been her first introduction to Athkatla, courtesy of Jon Irenicus, the maddened elf whom she and the others in her party had eventually destroyed. It was perfect. Absolutely perfect. I sat in shock for long minutes.

“Madam, should I call for a carriage and take you home, or can I send a messenger to the great house for Hendak to come and fetch you?” She was very, very concerned.

“No, Charona. I’m fine. Really, I am. I will explain all later -- I can't at the moment. I just need to go see Ribald next door and then I will go home.” I knew she also wanted to ask me why I was going to see Ribald. “I have to buy a gift. A dagger.” I offered the feeble explanation and she nodded. I donned my cloak and peaked out and around the door. No one was evident at the Promenade’s new section, except a couple of stonemasons continuing the detailing on the outside carvings. I quickly moved next door to the Mart and ducked into the entrance. Fortunately, the main floor was empty of customers except for the ever-present guard and Ribald. He rounded his merchant’s counter to greet me.

He was an interesting looking half-elf. Even his elfish heritage couldn't keep him from looking somewhat grizzled from his days of adventuring, his face bearing the tiny scars and pockmarks associated with such a life. Of medium height, muscular build, and with a fuzzy fringe of graying dark brown hair surrounding a shiny balding pate, he reminded me of the Monks of Gazeron Monastery. A slightly leftward tilted nose, also from his adventuring days, protruded from roundish and merry-looking cheeks, and his smile was perpetually contagious.

“Madam Glory! It is so lovely to see you! We have sorely missed your presence in the neighborhood these past couple of tendays. I trust you and your family are well? And how may I be of service to m'Lady,” he bowed then walked up to me.

“Thank you, Ribald, but other projects currently require my attention, but I will be returning soon to my office, I am sure.” I paused looking about. “Ribald, I am looking for a gift. A special gift, and I am most hopeful that you can help me,” I began.

“What exactly would you be desirin', Madam?” he asked, most solicitously as he rubbed his weathered and calloused hands together.

“A dagger. But not just any ordinary one. A very special one, perhaps from your special inventory. It's for a gift,” I added, mostly for the guard who stood nearby, craning his neck to hear every word.

“Ah… I see,” said Ribald and gave me an interesting look. “I think I have exactly what you might be looking for. If you would allow me, Madam,” and again he bowed graciously and directed me to the back of the store.

“I trust something very special, m'Lady?” he asked as soon as we were out of earshot of the guard. “And would this be for benefit of a lady, or a gentleman?”

“Quiet so,” I nodded, as I realized he was leading me to his back room -- the one adjacent to my own storage room. “And, it's for a lady, Ribald. Me. I..I have been learning the art, and I want something that I feel comfortable with,” I nodded.

A small look of surprise briefly crossed his face, but he only nodded as he opened the door and led me in closing it behind us. It was as though I had stepped through a portal into a new world as I looked around the large room. Every weapon imaginable hung from the walls – war hammers, bastard swords, halberds, short swords, maces, flails. Smaller weapons, among them a sizable group of daggers, were displayed in various cases. As I looked around some of the weapons glowed, some boasted ornate and exotic blades and hilts, and some I didn't even know what were. I had never seen so much death and destruction assembled in one place in my life.

Chain mail, full plate, and various leather armors were displayed on mannequins and stands at the far end of the room. Another alcove appeared to have boots, helmets, belts, gauntlets and bracers. It was the most extensive, and eclectic, collection of weaponry and armor in all of Amn. At least, that is what all of Ribald’s advertising boasted. As I looked around in awe, I knew he was probably being totally truthful.

“A dagger for you, m'Lady?” he asked. “Now, would that be a throwin' type, or maybe, a.. er, pokin' type.” I looked at him wondering if my ignorance was that apparent and that appalling.

“Perhaps both, Ribald. Yes, might I see what you offer in both?” I said, trying to look as though I knew what I was doing.

“Of course, Madam. Let us start over here.” He led me to a case at the far end and unrolled a velvet pallet on the top of the heavy glass. He unlocked it and brought out six daggers. I unconsciously fingered the enhancement ring on my finger, secretly praying I would be inspired to make the best selection.

For the next hour I listened to Ribald explain each one and its particular abilities and enhancements. There were two that caught my eye. One, which he lovingly caressed and called ‘Firetooth’ and another, far more delicate, which he referred to as the 'Stiletto of Demarchess'. The former was a throwing dagger that returned to the thrower and inflicted fire damage on its target. It was slightly bulky, but perfectly balanced, and Ribald seemed somewhat relieved that I showed some knowledge in examining the weapon itself.

The latter was a thin stiletto, the piercing type, which inflicted a paralyzing effect upon its target. Each wound inflicted, be it large or small, held the victim motionless for a good couple of minutes – long enough to either retreat or kill them outright. It was feminine, if a dagger could be described so, and elegant.

“And m'Lady, the Demarchess might be perfect for hidin' under Madam’s skirts,” he cleared his throat, “maybe with a fitted sheath about the calf, and I have exactly what you need that is guaranteed not to tear your stockings or your petticoats.” He blushed ever so slightly. It was lightweight and would be easily concealed under my long skirts, yet easily accessible should the need arise. He was absolutely right.

“Yes, Ribald. This one for sure,” I nodded to the Demarchess. “Now, do you have throwing daggers? Perhaps enhanced ones?”

“Yes, Madam. Would you care to try one?” I didn't know if he was questioning my skill, or if this was a question he would have asked any adventurer he brought to his back room.

“I suppose I should try it, don’t you think?” I asked. I was reluctant, and I certainly didn't want to look the fool.

“Yes, Madam,” and he walked to the side of the alcove and dragged a splintered wooden target on wheels from behind the door facing. He placed it at the end of the room. He pulled a set of daggers from the case and laid them on the velvet. “Now, if Madam will stand on this mark, it is just about 12 meters distance.”

I nodded and picked up two of the daggers, carefully remembering what I had been taught. I pulled back the first and with my arm’s forward motion and snap of the wrist, hurled the dagger end-over-end at the target. The blade whistled through the air and found its home at the outer edge of third ring from the center bulls-eye. I glanced to see a mild look of pleasant surprise on the little man’s face. “The dress is a bit constricting,” I explained, offering the tight-fitting sleeves as an excuse for my not-so-excellent marksmanship.

“Do try another, m'Lady,” he encouraged me. I drew back and heard Aran’s voice in my mind, ‘Visualize. See the blade where you want it to be, then draw back and relax, and complete the throw’. I did exactly as I had been taught. ‘Twang’, the blade sounded as it held firmly a full inch from the border of the bulls-eye and inside the first ring.

“Very impressive, my Lady,” Ribald shook his head. “Excellent throw, and you have a fine form going there. More practice and you will be a natural at it.” He smiled broadly.

I stood looking at the dagger that still stuck in the target. I felt emboldened from this minor success. I turned to Ribald and stared at him a long minute, an idea forming in my mind.

“M'Lady? Are you alright?” he leaned forward and waved his hand in front of my face to break my gaze.

“Quite,” I replied as I continued to stare at him. “Ribald, I would like to buy your services.”

“Madam??” The look of surprise on his face was almost comical. If I hadn’t been so deadly serious, I would have laughed.

“I need three mercenaries to accompany me six days hence on a small mission. It would only take a couple of hours, maximum, just before dawn. I need one accomplished mage and two fighters. Would you be interested in say, 10,000 gp? For only a few hours work, and relatively risk-free? And what you would pay your party members would be your business.”

“M'..M'…M'lady,” he stammered in amazement. “That is a large sum of coin for only a few hours work….” He rubbed at his chin and squinted his eyes at me. “This is no lark, is it Madam.”

“No, Ribald. I am deadly serious,” I replied. “Can you put together such a group?”

“Of course, Madam. And for that serious coin, only the best for such little work. But maybe I should be askin' what the task would be before I commit to the job..” he ventured.

“Mostly, to protect me. If you deliver my goods to my house later this afternoon, I will give you the details and you may make your decision then. Should you decide you wish to participate, I will also advance you half of your fee this afternoon,” I proposed.

“Most assuredly, Madam. I can personally deliver your goods this afternoon,” he nodded, “and we can discuss the details then.”

“Now, I need some strong, lightweight armor, preferably something feminine, and in green, if possible,” I chuckled. He laughed in response to my half-joke, but I sensed a certain new found respect in his eyes. “And, of course, whatever accouterments necessary to go with it.”

Another hour in Ribald's legendary back room, and almost 12,500 gp later, I left The Mart, the Demarchess secured to the lower part of the calf of my leg. It felt light and it felt liberating. Aran’s carriage was conveniently parked at the end of the Promenade awaiting my return. It was time for me to go home, have noon meal, reveal my suspicions regarding the new construction in the Promenade, meet with Ribald, and plan my little upcoming illithid hunt. I could do this.. I could really do this....


#2 Guest_Blue-Inked_Frost_*

Posted 07 October 2012 - 11:07 AM

Nice chapter! I liked the line on self-esteem and self-reliance - that need to be independent and have one's freedom, so that then the choices you make can be held for their own merits. A gift to enhance the feeling of being able to defend oneself is nice.

I enjoy Aran Linvail as a character (and that elven chain he wears is so nifty!), but to be a bit critical, to me the part with Aran continuing to fawn over MorningGlory with unrequited love feels indulgent and drawing-out--as if a savvy man like him ought to get over it.

“Absolutely positive, and whatever extra charge there is, put it on the bill.” Just knowing Sharee would squirm a little when her neighbor Joree got her invitation a day ahead would make it all worthwhile.

Hmm, that is about as petty as Sharee is blamed for being in the conversation.

With characters talking about currency in-universe, "10,000 gp" probably looks better as "ten thousand gold pieces" written out in full in a story. Also, the question of logistics comes up more when writing a story than a game - ten thousand gold pieces is awfully heavy and not easy to carry around!

I enjoyed the ongoing plot with the illithids, and Ribald Barterman's cameo. :) Looking forward to the illithid hunt!

#3 Guest_MorningGlory_*

Posted 07 October 2012 - 05:29 PM

Nice chapter! I liked the line on self-esteem and self-reliance - that need to be independent and have one's freedom, so that then the choices you make can be held for their own merits. A gift to enhance the feeling of being able to defend oneself is nice.

Thanks.. But please don't think that Waukeen's motives are altruistic. They're not. :) That Glory's psyche is benefiting from them is a plus, to be sure, but not overall the generous intent of the benefactor. ;) If I had written this in other than first person, I could have hinted at this more.

I enjoy Aran Linvail as a character (and that elven chain he wears is so nifty!), but to be a bit critical, to me the part with Aran continuing to fawn over MorningGlory with unrequited love feels indulgent and drawing-out--as if a savvy man like him ought to get over it.

If he were a one-dimensional character (which, in-game, he isn't even that), I might agree. You see 'fawning,' and perhaps because I know how it all ends, I don't. Don't forget that early on he's had her shadowed and investigated for two+ years. Long before he met her, we can assume he saw her (at least from a distance) and he had in-depth info on her -- she was so many pieces of parchment in multiple folders for a very long time. He had more than enough time to fabricate his own perception of her based on this, and I don't believe it's inconceivable that because she is/was such a departure from his world that he might become infatuated with her on one or more levels.

“Absolutely positive, and whatever extra charge there is, put it on the bill.” Just knowing Sharee would squirm a little when her neighbor Joree got her invitation a day ahead would make it all worthwhile.

Hmm, that is about as petty as Sharee is blamed for being in the conversation.

Definitely. The point was three-fold.. 1) a smidge of comic relief, 2) A year prior, the character would have never done such a thing (thereby suggesting some subtle psychological change in the character, and 3) I can't remember as it was so long ago that I wrote it.

With characters talking about currency in-universe, "10,000 gp" probably looks better as "ten thousand gold pieces" written out in full in a story. Also, the question of logistics comes up more when writing a story than a game - ten thousand gold pieces is awfully heavy and not easy to carry around!

Just tryin' to follow the rules of writing numbers.. ;) And if I were writing it out, it would be "ten-thousand gold pieces" by American English standards. As to the question of physical limitations, two thoughts spring to mind. No reason why the FW world wouldn't have multiple-denomination coinage and/or paper currency (as simply a practical matter), and there's a reason why there are Bags of Holding and other weight-reduction charms and spells.

I enjoyed the ongoing plot with the illithids, and Ribald Barterman's cameo. :) Looking forward to the illithid hunt!

He's a wonderful character. I've toyed with fleshing him out in his younger days. He was out roaming the countryside during the ToT and surely has some bigger-than-life tales to share with us. Endless possibilities.

Thanks, BIF, for reading and commenting. Always appreciated!

Edited by MorningGlory, 07 October 2012 - 08:20 PM.

0 user(s) are reading this topic

0 members, 0 guests, 0 anonymous users

Skin Designed By Evanescence at IBSkin.com