Not Another Hero

assign all points to Haircut.

3 Guile, 1 Intellect.

Some Acrobatics, a bit of Law, and a fuckload of Rhetoric.

Two Guile, one Intellect, one Brawn.

Three Medicine, three Thaumaturgy, two Law (you always want to know any viable loopholes in case you deal with Pixies or other faeries)

Dance +5
History -1
Medicine -1
Music +5

THIS WORKED FOR TRIBALMAN

Thus disguised, I made my way across the city to the market district in search of a group of travelers who might accept my services in some form.



The Last Draught was a well-known stop for passers-through. None of its patrons gave me a second look as I entered and began to take in the crowd. I floated casually around the bar while eavesdropping on the drinkers. I found three groups who seemed about to leave town.



A group of wandering players was headed south to greener pastures and bigger crowds. I knew I could use my considerable talent for acrobatics to make myself useful and I could possibly convince them to consider another destination.



A band of mercenaries drinking heavily made no secret that they were headed north to find work on the frontier. The threat of war with our neighbor always loomed and fighters like these came from all over the impoverished kingdom in search of glory and riches. I wasn't much of a fighter, but I'd remembered enough anatomy to serve as a decent medic.



Members of a merchant caravan were preparing to travel to the mines in the west. I could likely convince them to take me on as an advisor in legal matters - though I knew I could talk my way into any of these groups with ease.

You're probably most suited for the players, given your acrobatic skills, though life as a merchant may become more rewarding as you go on.

I think heading for the mountains with the merchants would be good, unless someone can think of a particular reason to head north or south.

assign all points to Haircut.

Audible LOLs.

I vote the traveling players IF you can convince them to head towards-ish the mines, you can learn a lot from them along the way about the surrounding countryside. Also, I'm sure people accustomed to traveling about a vast countryside have a deal bit more insider knowledge about the pulse of the country/quality of life of the people and even political intrigues, if they are acquainted with other bands of travelers. Just make sure their patron isn't a close friend of yours, as it wouldn't do to be discovered just as you embark.

I vote merchants. The primary goal of a traveling circus is to draw attention to itself, and going with the mercenaries (even as a medic) sounds like a good way to get yourself killed.

The merchants. You didn't leave the palace to go join the circus or die horribly, you did it to........... do something important. Anyway, the merchants are probably gonna head all over this country at some point, they're your best bet.

I was never much of a student, to be honest. I remembered a few things from my tutors, but I loved nothing more than playing and climbing in the courtyard as a kid. My father, always quick to find an opportunity in an unfavorable situation, hired a performer from a local troupe to teach me acrobatics in my spare time. Dreaming of jumping and falling occupied much of my time in class. Unfortunately, I knew it was a bad idea to join the players despite my aptitude. It was no place for one who wished to travel in secret.

I approached the merchants. From what I gathered, they were headed for Eddandar. I had never been there, but I knew it was a huge industrial metropolis. Indeed it was the primary source of my country's wealth - iron ore. If I was going to reverse my peoples' fortune, it was a good place to start.

I approached the merchants.



The well-dressed jolly man seemed to be the best avenue. He was definitely drunk and seemed the sort of man who would hire a grubby peasant on the spot based upon a witty application. I told him that despite my appearance, I was a qualified legal advisor and wished to join them on their journey for a modest fee.

"Oh do you now?" he grinned widely as I approached and slapped me on the back. It occurred to me at that point that I had not been touched by another person in years. "You look capable enough to me, I'm convinced!"

I held out my hand, but he waved it away.

"The problem is, I don't actually make the uh... hiring and firing decisions here." He looked sheepishly at the tall woman wearing jewelry. "Especially when we stop at taverns. You'll have to convince her."

Grovel!

>Well, talk to her, then. Be respectful, of course.

Be sure to smile and bow.

> Brush off that scruffy-lookin' outfit of yours before you talk to her!

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Spoiler

assign all points to Haircut.

The woman was dressed well - strangely well for a traveler. She had a stern look on her face. I took a moment to brush off my tunic and straighten my hair before approaching.



"Looking for work, I assume?" she said as I bowed respectfully. "I've already got all the laborers I need."

>"I was hoping to work as a legal advisor."

> "BUT DO YOU HAVE THE LAW"

Basically what Fogel said.

"Have you filed your caravan with the commerce bureau?" I asked her, knowing the answer would be no. Few ever bothered to do so, as it was primarily a failed attempt to cut down on smuggling.

"Of course not, who does that?"

"I overheard that you are planning to trade for iron ore. The kingdom will reimburse you for damages if you're attacked by thorn pixies along the way. It's a program intended to help the war effort by safeguarding against iron shortages. No one really uses it, though."



"I take it you're not offering to carry crates for me, then. I'm convinced. A legal expert could prove useful," she replied after considering for a moment.

"My name is Francine. Welcome aboard."



"You've already met my husband, Chad. The man in glasses is my accountant, Geoff, and that's my overseer, Graglori."

"We're leaving at midday. Make your preparations and meet us in the stalls across the street. What's your name again?"

King Owen DCCCI Dicky?

(Second image isn't working)

>Bill Billings.

Roy Kingson
Lowly McPeasantry
Steve Jones

Martin Alistair. Just odd enough not to strike up suspicion.

"Francine? That's my name too! What a crazy coincidence!"

Marcus O Smith, esq.

I knew I couldn't use my given name as the moniker Owen had been reserved for members of the royal family for generations.

"Marcus," I said, "My name is Marcus."

I shuffled off so I could pretend to gather documents, settle affairs, and do the things people who weren't runaway kings would do before a long journey. I picked another bar down the street and ate what would certainly be the last meal of its quality I would have for some time. The squab and lampreys were cold, but still delicious. The royal chef was skilled, but I found it difficult to enjoy my food. It was becoming clear that even this had been a tool of my captors designed to keep the king fat and happy and far from the levers of power.

I made my way back to the Last Draught and started looking for my traveling companions.



I spotted Graglori in a group of ten or so workers and five wagons and walked up to him.

"Reporting for duty, eh? I expect you'll be in the house with the other egghead."