Campaign 15: First Frolic Scenario 00: First Frolic Dawning Episode 11: A Sharp Interjection
	Date: 12562-02-10, Time: 1200 Location: Desert Port, Lewawan, The Gorvij Lands Default Language: Gorvij

Player Characters Present

Character	Player	Sex	Species/Race	Description
Alijar Ilarik	Weston	M	Hyuumin/Waujak	Thief
Arberiks Kroonit	Christine	F	Hyuumin/Gorvij	Sharpster
Bernee Spam	Kevin	M	Dargaolhuun/Vordin	Thaumaturge
"Cat"	Melissa	F	Dargaolhuun/Vordin	Fighter
Kootayu Ranshee	Wood	M	Hyuumin/Nildrer	Thaumaturge
Laeris Seelfaroo	Don	M	Hyuumin/Relt	Sharpster
Liraan	Corinna	F	Fl;ajessav/Challit	Scrapper
Markuutril	Cassidy	M	Hyuumin/Gorvij	Hieruirge
Niijel Buzelstumper	Bob	M	Dargaolhuun/Vordin	Sharpster
Waun Chuu	Brad	M	Hyuumin/Nildrer	Thaumaturge
Wilnachet	Dennis	M	Hyuumin/Rinker	Fighter

Local Characters

Character	Sex	Species/Race	Description
Ankarev	M	Gorvij	Constable
Ashdor	M	Waujak	Alchemist
Braatrin	F	Gorvij	Public Witness
Bronderet	F	Gorvij	Weaver
Fergus Urkhart	M	Vordin	Baker
Frotheringhaa Urkhart	M	Shougild	Carter
Galeger Throkmorton	M	Vordin	Head Vordin
Ghravnokh	F	Braksont	Tinkerer/Cook
Gremaan Artrening	M	Gorvij	Chief Constable
Kleris	F	Gorvij	Constable
Plimsool Urkhart	F	Shougild	Carter
Reridav	F	Gorvij	Tavern Owner
Tiireen	F	Gorvij	Entertainer

Markuutril briefly examines the man under the brokeristics banner
from a distance, then wanders casually over and glances over the
cover page of the pamphlets. While doing so, he asks the man "So,
are you from Desert Port?". The man shrugs. "I was born here, but i
am not *from* here. I am from the community of the free. You can be
too. Just read."

Behind him, Ankarev gets up to resume his rounds. His fellow
constable Kleris has come in and is starting on her own meal. They
confer for a moment, both looking towards the man and the group
loosely clustering around him. The word "fringie" can be heard
several times.

Reaching for a brochure with one hand, Markuutril meaningfully taps
his collar with the other while pointedly asking "Does this
community also have the freedom to *live* outside of Desert Port?".
The man answers "Free people live wherever they want to. Though many
prefer to leave the artificially created borders that are maintained
to control them."

Reridav staggers to an empty table with the canvas bundle that the
thrankee had dropped. As she opens it, Bronderet runs over and
climbs onto a chair to more easily reach in. Actually, it looks as
if she's going to climb in, but Reridav scolds her and she
sheepishly sits down. Reridav opens the canvas and spreads it out,
revealing a pile of parcels. Bronderet is up again. She grabs a
stack of brightly colored magazines and skips off whooping with joy.

Tiireen receives a paper wrapped bundle. It turns out to be a large
red peaked felt cap with complex knotted tassels dangling from its
two corners. She looks as if she too would like to skip and whoop,
but instead she returns to her keyboard and begins pounding out a
brisk triumphal march. Grand Magister Tiireen. Ha, take that, Yar
the Malignant!

A messenger arrives. The City Council has made a preliminary
determination. This is a good First Frolic and they truly expect it
to remain good to the evening deadline.

Kootayu thanks Waun for the brochure and reads it over a half eaten
meal. This seems like a good enough place to regain strength after
very disappointedly finding the tobacco shop still closed. He takes
out the root and chews on it. Within seconds he feels a surge of
energy. He feels alert, clearheaded and yes, very hungry. He cleans
his plate and heaps it high again. He even downs two mugs of coffee.
The root is not quite as good as trefk, but combined with the coffee
it should keep him going all day. Out of habit, he conceals all of
this, maintaining the appearance of his usual feebleness.

He continues to carry on a conversation with Waun while watching
everyone in the room for their reaction to the brochure.

While this does seem like a scam to Kootayu and not worth much
effort it is quite interesting to watch the general reaction around
the room.

Reridav continues to unpack. Most of the parcels go behind the
counter, to wait for their recipients to claim. Several go into the
kitchen. One is a rolled up paper which she starts to read, then
immediately rolls up again and stows away. After that she ties the
canvas into a rectangular bale and takes it outside. She returns a
couple of minutes later and this time she props the door open. The
air is still cool but not uncomfortably so.

As Alijar translates the brochure, Bernee feels a rising excitement.
By the end, he's convinced; no more coins for Bernee! He asks the
man, in his best waujak, "how can I be a broker? what part can I
take in brokeristics?" The man answers slowly, his waujak somewhat
rough, "vell, first, ein broker muss sprech like der people uf der
region. Learning sie gorvij und ve talk broker. But to be in der
brokeristics is easy. You yust hafe to hafe something to trade und
be villing to yust trade for other something mit nein der coinen und
nein der taxen und nein der regulation. You can go to der peoples to
trade to or use ein broker. Or come to our fair. Ist out vest so ist
not in Levavan und so der rules are not dere."

Alijar cringes at the mangled waujak words. He asks the man to
continue in gorvij, he will do the translation for Bernee. Arberiks
also wants to hear this, so she joins them. Niijel listens in
casually, while seeming to keep his attention on a truly dargaolhuun
sized meal and a floral scented cigar. He's read the brochure
through several times, and is ready for further information.

Another messenger arrives. The bathhouses are now open.

Markuutril turns back to his table, but after a few steps there, he
pauses, then turns around with his next step forward, and a bit to
the side (so he's slightly off-center of his chosen path but he's
now facing directly back towards the man again). He looks
expectantly forward. He repeats this a couple more times, then it
seems to dawn on him that this isn't working, and he glances around
the room. Everyone else ignores him. He decides to finish reading.

The man looks at his audience. He then stands up and makes a ringing
declaration at just under twice the speed of normal speech. And he
does it apparently in a single breath. "I am Dhendukree Arminet. As
a free autarchic individual, i am addressed as 'Suum Arminet'."
Everyone can have freedom, if you want it enough. Right now, you
could just walk out into the desert and take your chances on your
own. But why should you have to? You aren't the one committing the
acts of oppression, why should you be the one to leave? You have the
right to live free from interference in your own home. Only, that's
where it gets difficult or even dangerous. They will try to keep you
in their cage of lies. But you can escape and there are people who
can help you, people such as myself who have successfully removed
ourselves from the system. There is no legal authority over us other
than the agreements we enter into voluntarily."

After that he continues more normally. He has a few more things to
say, and he answers questions, and it all sounds very positive. But
it really all boils down to one thing: if you want to get into
brokeristics, you need to go to a meeting. There will be one late
this afternoon at a camp about 2 kilometers away.

Meanwhile, Markuutril has been going over the brochure, mumbling
over the words.

He likes the initial questions, although it first it looks as if he
is trying to take the admonition to "face yourself" literally. After
he's finished reading, he repeats the questions enthusiastically
over and over.

"Am i HONORABLE? YES! Am i CONSCIENTIOUS? YES! Am i INDUSTRIOUS?
YES! Am i RESOURCEFUL? YES! Am i SKILLED? YES!"

He looks for something he can use as a mirror, but has to settle for
watching his image in the milky surface of Reridav's marble cutting
board.

A woman in a patched and dirty gray tunic and a red wool shawl
enters the tavern. She makes her way towards the group.

Another messenger arrives. Vegetable seedlings and root starts will
be available from the early greenhouses starting tomorrow.

Niijel has been following Arminet's spiel with interest. He still
thinks this is a scam, but it is possible to make money off of scams
and scammers, so during a pause he speaks up. "This all sounds very
interesting. How does one become a broker? Is there a training
program?".

Arminet smiles broadly. "Not just anyone can become a broker, you
have to demonstrate the requisite qualities. If you do, then you
have to find a broker to act as mentor."

Before Niijel can say anything more, Markuutril approaches again,
and explains that since he's spent a lot of time living in the
wilderness, where there is no use for coins, he'd all but forgotten
that they were valuable; and, is this man saying that there's a
community where he *doesn't* have to adjust his mindset when he
comes back to civilization?

Arminet says of course, and the beauty of it is that it is not a
community you have to travel to, it exists wherever people agree
that it exists and furthermore...

That's when the woman who had come in earlier thrusts herself
forward. She throws off her shawl and reveals the pickax it was
concealing. "You vulture!" she screams. "You heartless fiend-- WHERE
IS MY SON?!"

Arminet leaps back as she smashes the table. "Liar! Deceiver! You
tricked him and then you took everything from him! And then you took
him! What did you do to him! If you don't bring him home, i swear
i'll KILL you!"

Her second swipe grazes his cheek. He squirms out of the way as she
struggles to pull the point out of the wall.

Constable Kleris charges and tackles the woman. She glares fiercely
at anyone who appears to be going for a weapon or otherwise
intervening.

"I'm sorry, Norang" Kleris says, as she grapples her quarry. "This
isn't going to help anything, you know that. Now please, go home
before i have to arrest you!" She half drags, half coaxes, the woman
away from the table and out the door.

Arminet quickly grabs a cloak and a traveling case from a nearby
chair, strides past the counter and goes out the back door.

Reridav examines the damage. She uses about a dozen gorvij words
that aren't in the dictionary.

Kleris returns. She takes the pickax and promises to help the tavern
owner pursue reparations. "Fringies" she says with a sigh. She
leaves.

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Notes

Suum: The highest courtesy title in the gorvij language, in
traditional culture used only for royalty.