Wakey, wakey eggs and... BUT YOUR DEAD!?

[DM Betelgeuse]

    The morning started the same as any other. The window knockers walked around the town, rapping windows, waking people up for their work. Some of them whistled, some hummed. Others simply looked forlorn and depressed. But work is work, and it has to be done. The smells of sweet meats and various different breakfast meals wafted out onto the streets, heralding the start of the new day. 

All seemed well, until the Dundragon's entered the kitchen area of their home - near the western gate. They where all joking and giggling, cracking wise and enjoying each others company. Something about this morning just seemed... perfect. The smells, the noises... it harked back to a time when the family was more complete. When it was happier. As they entered the room they all breathed deep, loving the smell of that cooking. It had been years since Grandmother had cooked them all breakfast. It had been... years... because... Grandmother died. 

The collective scream of the family members ripped through the streets of Valkur's Roar as they all notice the decomposing, putrid corpse of grandmother cooking their eggs.

// This is an open thread that will grow as the story develops. 


DM Private P ShadowCatJen

[ShadowCatJen]

On the same morning Mynian sat in her office with a steaming cup of kaeth with cocoa and a plate of sausage with bread next to her, courtesy of some of the guards downstairs. In front of her, a stack of parchments and a tally book as receipt after receipt was coming in of food filling city's granary stores.

Once the endless winter had finally lifted, the crops seemed to bloom with gracious speed. Prayers to Chauntea flitted between farmers and their market sellers with abandon. The cloth makers rejoiced as the flax for linen and others for common dyes were finally growing proper. Mynian had been occupied with the sudden burst of business, the stores, the shippers, the docks, everything moving and she had to do her part to help it along.

She was part way through the numbers when her quill stopped and she glanced over to the window in her office that overlooked the city. Something in the back of her mind seemed to tell her "but isn't it going too well?" Sighing through her nose, she got up from her seat, cup of kaeth in hand, and wandered over to look out the window a moment.

"Yeh jus' bein' paranoid, lass, tha's all," she said to herself after a sip from the cup. Yet, her eyebrows furrowed still.

With the worried look still on her face, she returned back to the tally books, trying not to think of all the unchased loose ends still in her ledgers.

DM Betelgeuse