07-12-2017, 09:32 PM
The Sage landed in coarse grass, a glaring sun beating down on him from a stark blue sky. He took a moment to adjust to the rapid changes in climate, already regretting the woolen robe he had summoned back in the Syntech labs. He could see the skyline of a small city not too far away, which should be Carrefore. The Sage took a few moments to summon a more appropriate set of clothes. He stored away the robe, instead donning a hooded poncho with a muted blue color, over a set of sturdy brown clothes. This would not be a time for fancy looks and charm. He was going back into Imperial territory.
The now much more muted Sage made his way through the savannah grass, the dry plants rustling as he brushed past them. After the pomp of Karl’s facility, the city of Carrefore was a staunch reminder of the variety of lifestyles the Omniverse supported. The Sage moved quickly past a pair of imperial guards, though they were thankfully distracted by a game of sabaac and did not think much of the stranger. He moved through the crowded streets of Carrefore with a quiet speed, he had been a fool to go to Coasta del Sol with his imperial bounty, an inexperienced fool. He wasn’t going to make the same mistake for a second time. He would do his business discreetly and be on his way before imperial law enforcement was any the wiser.
The Sage made his way to Rick’s Café American. Evven during the early afternoon the sounds of carousing were audible from the street outside. Rick’s Café was never truly closed, and the imperial forces had learned just to leave it alone. The mark of a truly successful business.
The Sage entered, moving through the crowd swarming what he guessed was a drinking contest and made his way to the bar. The barkeep was a plump woman who could likely have used a touch less makeup, but she regarded him with a practiced eye that put the Sage instinctively on guard.
“You want a drink traveler?” she asked, turning towards the wall behind her.
“Something light, I have much to do before the end of the day.” He replied taking a seat. “Do you know of any troupes on their way to the Town with No Name? Any caravans that could use an extra hand?” He placed his payment, a larger amount than would be expected for the drink that was slid back his way.
The lady scooped up the money without missing a beat, and moved down the bar without saying a word. The Sage sipped his drink and glanced at his surroundings. There were a large variety of patrons in the place, even given the time of day. A trio of black leathered road warriors seemed to be eyeing him from their table. The Sage raised his mug in greetings, acting furtive would be the best way to encourage their curiosity. The Sage continued to scan the rest of the room, but no one else he could see was paying him any attention. They seemed far too interested in the drinking game. Two Gamorreans were going head to head while a troll he could only assume had deserted Zul-Jinn’s war was taking bets from the cheering crowd. The Barkeep had gone into the back of the building, and that was something the Sage wasn’t particularly keen on. He couldn’t do anything about it, however, so he took another gulp of the flat liquid and mulled over his interactions during Dante’s Abyss.
Tearen Wover’s warning had apparently been hushed up by Karl Jak, or perhaps his reputation had led some to doubt the veracity of his words? At any rate, the Omniverse at large seemed not to be concerned with the situation, though his judgement of Tearen had seemed genuinely unsettled during his depiction of the tale. This led to one of two possible outcomes. Either Wover was overestimating the threat Diablo actually posed, or there was more going on than the Sage was aware of. Tearen had said that Diablo’s agents could leave the Underverse freely, if that was the case, they would be free to infiltrate every facet of the other factions relatively unimpeded. The Sage glanced back at the road warriors out of the corner of his eye. They had not lost their curiosity. Still watching him with an air of easy confidence. Wover had made the announcement to the Omniverse at large, and the Sage had been confirmed to have spoken with him. Had he made himself a target to Diablo’s agents in the process?
The Woman stepped out of the backroom suddenly, and passed by the Sage as she made her way to the end of the bar. He set his drink down, palming the leaflet of paper she had quickly placed as she went. Without a word he turned and left the Café. Not in a hurry, but he had gotten what he came for. Exiting back into the heat. He opened the paper. As he expected the Barkeep had written a name and directions.
Eckward Whistler? Let’s see how this goes… The Sage pocketed the note, and made his way through the crowded streets of Carrefore.
The now much more muted Sage made his way through the savannah grass, the dry plants rustling as he brushed past them. After the pomp of Karl’s facility, the city of Carrefore was a staunch reminder of the variety of lifestyles the Omniverse supported. The Sage moved quickly past a pair of imperial guards, though they were thankfully distracted by a game of sabaac and did not think much of the stranger. He moved through the crowded streets of Carrefore with a quiet speed, he had been a fool to go to Coasta del Sol with his imperial bounty, an inexperienced fool. He wasn’t going to make the same mistake for a second time. He would do his business discreetly and be on his way before imperial law enforcement was any the wiser.
The Sage made his way to Rick’s Café American. Evven during the early afternoon the sounds of carousing were audible from the street outside. Rick’s Café was never truly closed, and the imperial forces had learned just to leave it alone. The mark of a truly successful business.
The Sage entered, moving through the crowd swarming what he guessed was a drinking contest and made his way to the bar. The barkeep was a plump woman who could likely have used a touch less makeup, but she regarded him with a practiced eye that put the Sage instinctively on guard.
“You want a drink traveler?” she asked, turning towards the wall behind her.
“Something light, I have much to do before the end of the day.” He replied taking a seat. “Do you know of any troupes on their way to the Town with No Name? Any caravans that could use an extra hand?” He placed his payment, a larger amount than would be expected for the drink that was slid back his way.
The lady scooped up the money without missing a beat, and moved down the bar without saying a word. The Sage sipped his drink and glanced at his surroundings. There were a large variety of patrons in the place, even given the time of day. A trio of black leathered road warriors seemed to be eyeing him from their table. The Sage raised his mug in greetings, acting furtive would be the best way to encourage their curiosity. The Sage continued to scan the rest of the room, but no one else he could see was paying him any attention. They seemed far too interested in the drinking game. Two Gamorreans were going head to head while a troll he could only assume had deserted Zul-Jinn’s war was taking bets from the cheering crowd. The Barkeep had gone into the back of the building, and that was something the Sage wasn’t particularly keen on. He couldn’t do anything about it, however, so he took another gulp of the flat liquid and mulled over his interactions during Dante’s Abyss.
Tearen Wover’s warning had apparently been hushed up by Karl Jak, or perhaps his reputation had led some to doubt the veracity of his words? At any rate, the Omniverse at large seemed not to be concerned with the situation, though his judgement of Tearen had seemed genuinely unsettled during his depiction of the tale. This led to one of two possible outcomes. Either Wover was overestimating the threat Diablo actually posed, or there was more going on than the Sage was aware of. Tearen had said that Diablo’s agents could leave the Underverse freely, if that was the case, they would be free to infiltrate every facet of the other factions relatively unimpeded. The Sage glanced back at the road warriors out of the corner of his eye. They had not lost their curiosity. Still watching him with an air of easy confidence. Wover had made the announcement to the Omniverse at large, and the Sage had been confirmed to have spoken with him. Had he made himself a target to Diablo’s agents in the process?
The Woman stepped out of the backroom suddenly, and passed by the Sage as she made her way to the end of the bar. He set his drink down, palming the leaflet of paper she had quickly placed as she went. Without a word he turned and left the Café. Not in a hurry, but he had gotten what he came for. Exiting back into the heat. He opened the paper. As he expected the Barkeep had written a name and directions.
Eckward Whistler? Let’s see how this goes… The Sage pocketed the note, and made his way through the crowded streets of Carrefore.
If history is to become legend, it first must be recorded.