A Flat for a Fee -Game 1 Duke

A Flat for a Fee
“Find out what they are looking for.”
It would seem like a simple ask, and perhaps it might be. A few well placed drinks to the right person can
be a quick way to get someone talking. But one shouldn’t jump into a bear’s mouth just to ask what it
likes to eat. Much better to watch the bear from afar, make some observations, and then a
determination. The trickier part is if you don’t know what a bear is or where it can be found. These types
of thoughts make one, potentially simple, question into many.
Fortunately some answers has been found, but most lead to other questions. ‘The where’ seemed to be
the Rust. It was the area where things could be found, but in and of itself could be a rough place to
navigate. ‘The who’ was a bit more difficult. A number of players had been named, or at least their
groups. Taven representing the local interested leadership, the Hatpins as an alternate interested party,
the Clippers as the locals doing the looking, the Nightshade Brotherhood as the outsiders hiring the
local. But which were bears, foxes, or puffed up cats? All were likely dangerous in their own ways. Now
it was time to start figuring out how they interacted with each other and find the names of some
individuals belonging to those groups. Perhaps these Bookkeepers would be interested in trading some
information and provide some additional leads.
One way or another, they had to close on this question. They had some time, but exactly how much was
never mentioned. The flat was nice enough, and a few coins in the pocket was most assuredly
appreciated. He’d hate to end up back in the mines or worse. Taven didn’t seem like an overly patient
man, so they’d best keep pulling the threads.
: A Letter Home :
My dearest love,
I have once again moved on to another place. I currently call the town of Silverbrook home and have
established a residence in a quaint district near many of the working-class townsfolk. As I promised,
when I last left your arms, I would write frequently and tell you the tales of my adventures across the
lands of Forin.
I met the most interesting fellow recently at an establishment called the Dancing Fawn. Finnegan
Hearthhold was his name, one of the shorter folk. He was well into his cups, but seemed a well-traveled
individual within the realm of Elswick, using his brew master skills to create ales at various taverns
across the lands. The music there was quite grand as well, played by a lovely, delicate featured woman.
She could get a lively reel going to be sure. All in all, a fine place, though I may need to take on a bit
more work to support their ale prices.
While the weather has been a bit dark of late and the winds somewhat silent, I believe the clouds will be
parting and the birds singing soon enough. I think I shall be staying in Silverbook for a time and seeing
what there is to see here.
Fair thee well, my love.
Yours truly,
Kolbus