#Tiny token empires wineskin skin

O' course Thatchum 'ere is a long ways from any place. Looking down, the guard lifted a hand to one end of his 'stache, fingers stroking the red hairs.

The man is much taller than him, possibly twice his height and girth but he looks up without feeling intimidated. Perhaps you can be kind enough to point out the first four recommendations?' Then I'll be looking to offer my bow and blade to whoever needs help in this frontier.

Seeing as how the merchant caravan has got here relatively unscathed and my services no longer needed, my first business is probably a beer, a bath, a soft bed and softer wench to go along with it.

#Tiny token empires wineskin skin

Brown hair, tan skin from living outdoors, brown eyes, a thick leather gambeson that cover him knee to shoulder, brown also. This an opportunity to reveal something about your character an mannerism of speech, a physical trait, a method of dress, etc.Ī halfling with stylised beard and moustache though not as grand as the walrus lipped guard. He is distinct from the other guards as he is wearing a plain iron gorget. A big guard with a large walrus moustache speaks to you in a deep baritone while holding one gauntleted hand out. Archers are positioned at the top of both towers and as you approach, guards wearing the livery of Brine over chainmail and wielding halberds block your way in. The guardhouse itself is still in construction but includes two towers opposite the main entrance. Not far from the wall on one side of the road, you can see teams of horses dropping off felled trees, the lumbermen preparing the wood for shipment back to Threshold. Another section of the wall shows a gap filled in with wood and rock, a temporary repair one would hope. As you get closer you note a low elevated ridge closed off by a stone wall covered in places with scaffolding where the wall is being repaired. Trudging over a rise, you finally see the tip of what appears to be round tower with a pointed roof. It is cold and remote and as you wearily follow the muddy ruts that score the dirt road, it is a dark and overcast day and you’ve been suffering a cold drizzle for the past day and a half. The Brine is a frontier where ruffians, criminals, and adventurers seek to flee the central authority of the city of Threshold while mixing with simple townsfolk, frontiersmen, barbarians, lumberjacks, rangers, and salt harvesters. You’re in the Principality of Brine, or ‘the Brine’ as people call it. Its been over a fortnight since you set out, falling in with a caravan from Threshold or just braving the trip alone (or with companions). OOC: Please refer to the map in the Maps thread. For all IC remarks, use the dialog button.