Welcome to Gaia! ::

((This thread is for preliminary RP for the event Shades of Grey, but all are welcome.))

The guide who leads you through the rough and jagged pass of the mountains assures you there is no other safe way into the Vale. The main pass is monitored by the Skinner Mining Company, who with their machines and hired mercenaries are trying to drive the guide and his entire settlement out of the valley. Even the back pass through the old ruins is dangerous, haunted, he says, by beasts that seem like living shadows with giant, yellow eyes. No, this narrow trail is the only safe way left to reach the village.

Your first sight of Radiant is from above, the sun shining down on the small wooden houses, sheltered by their great stone wall. Beyond are the pens where gray sheep and large cows graze, and beyond that, the dried up bed of a river. In between are trees, stretching outward with their great leafy heads over the Vale before giving way to grasslands. Somewhere beyond, you know, lies the clearcut area where the Skinner Company has begun to harvest lumber, and beyond that the base of the company itself. And somewhere near the rugged cliffs lie the old ruins where the yellow-eyed shades were said to prowl.

The descent is hard, but brief, and soon the giant wooden gates of the village are opening to you. Step inside, and proceed to the big meeting house where the Mayor is greeting the adventurers who have answered his cry for help. You are among these, of course; come to help these poor people against the mining company trying to drive them from their homes, and the threat of the evil shadow beasts who have appeared in the ruins. If you were not, the village would not have welcomed you with opened arms...and why else would you be here, anyway?

((To find out more about the conflict between the villagers, the miners, and the shades, and how to join it, go to the main OOC thread, located here.. All are welcome to RP here, but those who are NOT adventurers coming to help the villagers are going to have to RP convincing the guide to take them here. If you want to play a villager for some strange reason, I ask that you PM me with your character concept first, and wait till you get the ok from me.

No one is allowed to leave the village, unless they are accompanied by the guide, who will take them back to the pass out of the Vale. By the Mayor's decree, no one is allowed to roam freely about the Vale until they have a plan of action.))

"Lost in your thoughts, old man?" the booming voice of the blacksmith echoed through the meeting house, and Henrik rubbed his temples, feigning a headache.

Hans was nearly as old as he, but the blacksmith's hair had kept its shaggy black color, and it seemed far more firmly attached to his head than the mayor's was. Perhaps, Henrik thought, it was because Hans allowed that terrifying beard of his to cling to his face. But age cannot be warded off forever, and Henrik noted with satisfaction that Hans had a small baldspot, too.

"Just waiting for the heroes to arrive. We've got some, you know." The mayor's voice was small and soft when talking with his friend. "Carn sent word from Barton, they will come."

"But will they be enough?" the blacksmith asked as he eased himself down onto one of the benches beside the mayor.

"Well, that's always the question, isn't it?" Henrik replied with a twinkle in his eyes, as though he knew a secret his old friend did not.

opaj stood alone behind the doctor's house, eyes closed as he took in the fresh air. The blond swordsman wore no shirt, but rather the red hilt wrappings from a previous sword of his acted as a bandage around his chest and shoulder. Two katana, one on either hip, hung from his belt, which kept up his baggy cotton pants.

Perhaps his most distinguishing feature, however, was the scar that ran from his right hairline to the middle of his chin. It was not a distinguishing scar, the sort of scar a young warrior likes to show off. This scar looked more like a disfiguring birthmark, cutting a jagged, red, bubbling swath across his face. Were it not for the efforts of the physicians of the town, opaj might have died from the injuries that create the scar; after two months he had spent at the foundling village, he was just now returning to full health.

opaj snapped the blades from their sheaths, metal flashing in the sunlight. He began his kata- not a single fluid motion, but a serious of powerful strokes that came together in a mesmerising pattern.

If he was to repay his debt to the villagers, he would have to be at his best.

A messenger burst into the meeting house, interrupting the conversation between two old friends.

"Someone's arrived, Mayor! But she doesn't look, er...heroic."

"Appearances can be deceptive," the mayor replied, his voice full of wisdom. Nodding, he commanded "Send her in."

"Er...well....she's gone to the brewery." The messenger looked embarrassed.

Henrik raised an eyebrow. "Well."

----

Veronica would find both the brewer and the brewery in full swing, but he sure as hell wasn't making the finest of anything. Nope, he was making whatever cheap booze could be made with the least of whatever materials he could get his hands on. Now that the damnable miners had dammed the river, the village needed an alternative supply of drink, and booze was in high demand.

There was no lock on the door, so Veronica was able to waltz right in. The brewer, a broad shouldered man with an air of impatience, spared a glance over his shoulder for her. "What do you want?" he demanded.

"No absinthe here," he grumbled, continuing with his work as though she were but a fly on his window pane. "You want absinthe, get those f'in corporate pigs and the shadows off my arse so I can work properly! Damn tourists..." he muttered. "You expect I've got time to make absinthe when the river's dried up and we're fighting for our lives?"

The brewer grunted, keeping up with his work. "Damn miners come around here, think they can just take the land out from under us when the mayor's got claim to it. Blathering on about official proof, or something."

A cough came from behind Veronica. If she were to turn around, she would see a smallish old man standing in the doorway.

Pushing his spectacles further up on his nose, the mayor gave her a gentle smile. "I believe I could explain further, if you'd like. Andrew so hates being distracted from his work, after all."

There had been talk, there always was talk; but this talk was different. Economic potential, some land held some potential but it looked as though corporations were looking to take advantage of it instead of the people living there. But then it was said they had no proof of ownership for the land which brought into light another question. Who has the authority to say who owns what land?

Would them living there give them the right? Or would the companies claim of ownership trump there's? In the end would it come down to fighting or would there be chance for things to be talked through?

That is what Quin wondered about. He had almost no skill in combat, but his skills at diplomacy were better then most.

But to get to the village would be difficult. Quin had no intention of getting himself taken as a prisoner, so he had to find a guide. Which didn't look too promising.