Gossip

[Voss_]

The younger members of the Crown Guard found humming the song are quickly slapped upside the head by their superiors, and told to quit slacking off and get some actual work done.

[Nymeria]

Some younger nobles salivate over a special delivery of freshly baked bread, enticed by buttery garlic wafting through the air. Caring not a whit for the intended recipient, they tear greedily into the packaging, and pause only for a moment to laugh admiringly at the perfectly phallic shapes before re-enacting scenes of battle and lewd theatre. While most disregard the name tag, some nudge and snicker and gesture rudely as the peasant swordsman strolls by.

@arcanigans said in A Package Delivered to Dominic:

[A bag arrives in the afternoon, filling the crownguard with the scent of delicious garlic bread. The bag is full to the brim with twists of exquisite garlic goodness in a variety of anatomically correct phallus, tempting anyone to partake. The maker's mark of a prominent local baker is on the delivery container, suggesting this was an expensive message to deliver, but probably worth it in the eyes of the sender.]

[Nymeria]

The mood towards Dominic Swift seems to have shifted suddenly, as pleb and blueblood alike regale the tale of the stocky, blonde warrior dragging in the sweating hunk of flesh that is the nuisance Cyricist Inquisitor Marchetti.

Some suggest that the Blueblood Montfaucon threw a pie in the Inquisitor's face, while others say it was the head of a local gang member.

All seem to laugh at how the man kicked his heels in a tantrum when he was thrown into the cells, and express some disappointment and complaint that his release was paid for so quickly, without him first being forced to scrub bedpans and shine shoes.

[Paramour]

The Priestess of Tyr recently offered a position is seen digging through older, and older records as the night wears on and the candles on her desk slowly shrink...

[A Former User]

Some time after having been summoned to Tilverton by the Malagent de Verthan, under a promise of protection, a pale and wheezing Officer Brown is said to have made a brief appearance at the Crown Guard last night, filing an urgent request for immediate "sick leave" in isolation. Her clothing torn, some might have seen a jagged and festering wound in her back, piercing deep into her lungs. She is said to have been holding some strips of minted cloth over her mouth while breathing heavily, the apathetic figure departing as wordlessly and quickly as she arrived.

Strangely, a few might note, she appeared to have come from Tilverton at a time when there was some kind of disruption to the caravan services coming to Arabel from that city. "What a dumb bitch, tha' girl!"

[Puffy]

Rat corpses are pilling up outside the Crown, thanks to the new felines patrolling the area. Bluebloods brag between one another who has the deadliest cat, sipping on their wine smugly as they do little but gossip safe inside their clean and well protected halls. All whilst disease and plague spreads outside, as the nobility remain untouched.