SHAMELESSLY STEALING IDEAS FROM HEDGE

[twin-fans.livejournal.com]

Fleischheim. It's a bustling medieval metropolis, possibly a port or trade city of some kind, surrounded by massive walls. In the center is a fortress, the home of the ruling authority of the land. It's an old-tech place, one where people who claim to have magic are believed, for they may or may not be telling the truth, alchemists yearn to transmute lead into gold, and guards in chain mail and knights in plate keep the peace.

Your characters are now in this place, as visitors or citizens. If they're not human, they are now. If they're superhuman, then they're merely the stuff of legends here, be it through skills or amazing physical prowess.

Go.

Comments

[twelvevoltman.livejournal.com]

"I'm 28!"

As a rule, he has better comebacks when he has eyebrows.

"How are those sour grapes sitting, friend?"

[proffesorcrisis.livejournal.com]

"Prince Lannister seemed to like them well enough!" He called back, holding up a pouch that jingled when shook.

[twelvevoltman.livejournal.com]

"Oh no! Money! I'm soooo jealous!"

While no particular lord has seen fit to sponsor him directly (yet), as one of the alchemists with a more regular rate of success, Allen does well for himself, monetarily speaking - particularly combined with the income of his wife, a highly successful mercenary whose success is rumored to come from strength gifted by heathen gods from distant lands.

"Or is that your dried up ballsack, shriveled from the fumes of your misguided concoctions? How much more convenient for shaking in the faces of your foes, when it's dropped off like that!"

[proffesorcrisis.livejournal.com]

"Pfah! Have fun painting your eyebrows back on while I dine at the prince's next banquet!" OK now he's just bluffing. He has no idea if Prince Lannister is going to invite him.