Patrollogs
(Ryan's bribery attempt)
[Thu Oct 3 2024]
On the Walkway Leading to the Front Steps of Town Hall
This sidewalk has recently been paved and placed, with mortar in between
the thick slabs of concrete. Some grass has attempted to grow between,
sprouting out thickly here and there, though it still remains in good
condition. Some casual indigenous wildflowers have been planted to either
side of the sidewalk, blooming during the warmer months and resting as dark
brown patches in the winter. A few trees offer shade here and there.
It is night, about 54F(12C) degrees, and the sky is covered by thin white clouds. There is a new moon.
Ryan looks over at Roger and asks, "You doing all right?"
Roger approached the deputy with a nervous energy that practically radiated off his small, wiry frame. His clothes, simple and well-worn from the hard labor of a peasants life, were slightly damp with sweat, though the evening air had begun to cool. His eyes darted left and right, scanning the quiet, shadowed street as if expecting someone to leap out at any moment. Clutched tightly in his rough hands was a small leather pouch, the jingling of coins faint but audible as he walked. Each step felt heavier than the last as he neared the hulking figure of the deputy, who stood leaning against the stone wall of the tavern, arms crossed, a sneer barely hidden beneath his thick mustache. The flickering light of a nearby lantern cast ominous shadows over the man's stern face, making Roger's heart pound even harder in his chest. He swallowed hard, forcing down the lump in his throat, as he came to a stop a few feet away, the pouch weighing heavily in his hand. His mouth opened to speak, but the words seemed to stick to the back of his throat. Finally, he managed a stammered, "Evening, sir... uh, deputy... Ive brought the... the payment." His fingers fumbled awkwardly with the pouch as he extended it toward the deputy, his hand trembling slightly. The deputy eyed him with cold, calculating eyes, his expression betraying no emotion save for the faintest hint of amusement at Rogers obvious discomfort. "Youre late," the deputy growled, his voice a low rumble, and Roger flinched, a bead of sweat trickling down his temple. "Im sorry, sir," he stammered quickly, "I-there was a problem with the crops, and the harvest... well, it didnt bring in what we expected, but-but here, its all here." He shoved the pouch toward the deputy, the weight of the bribe feeling like a stone in his hand. The deputy uncrossed his arms and took the pouch, weighing it in his hand with a dismissive glance before opening it, the clinking of coins louder now in the tense silence. Roger stood there, his hands wringing together anxiously, his mind racing with the fear that it might not be enough, that the bribe wouldnt cover whatever twisted deal hed found himself in. He waited, each second feeling like an eternity, until finally, the deputy gave a slow, deliberate nod. "Next time, dont keep me waiting," the man muttered, slipping the pouch into his belt. Roger let out a shaky breath he hadnt realized hed been holding, nodding quickly, almost too eagerly. "Yes, sir, of course, sir. Thank you." His voice was small, filled with relief but still edged with fear as he took a step back, eager to escape the tension of the exchange.
"Erm, yes." Roger blurts out aside to Ryan then, clearly not having expected another person to be here. There's another nervous looking between him and the deputy, before Roger turns to scurry back away.
Rogers Bribery Attempt 241004
(Ryan's bribery attempt)
[Thu Oct 3 2024]
On the Walkway Leading to the Front Steps of Town Hall
This sidewalk has recently been paved and placed, with mortar in between
the thick slabs of concrete. Some grass has attempted to grow between,
sprouting out thickly here and there, though it still remains in good
condition. Some casual indigenous wildflowers have been planted to either
side of the sidewalk, blooming during the warmer months and resting as dark
brown patches in the winter. A few trees offer shade here and there.
It is night, about 54F(12C) degrees, and the sky is covered by thin white clouds. There is a new moon.
Ryan looks over at Roger and asks, "You doing all right?"
Roger approached the deputy with a nervous energy that practically radiated off his small, wiry frame. His clothes, simple and well-worn from the hard labor of a peasants life, were slightly damp with sweat, though the evening air had begun to cool. His eyes darted left and right, scanning the quiet, shadowed street as if expecting someone to leap out at any moment. Clutched tightly in his rough hands was a small leather pouch, the jingling of coins faint but audible as he walked. Each step felt heavier than the last as he neared the hulking figure of the deputy, who stood leaning against the stone wall of the tavern, arms crossed, a sneer barely hidden beneath his thick mustache. The flickering light of a nearby lantern cast ominous shadows over the man's stern face, making Roger's heart pound even harder in his chest. He swallowed hard, forcing down the lump in his throat, as he came to a stop a few feet away, the pouch weighing heavily in his hand. His mouth opened to speak, but the words seemed to stick to the back of his throat. Finally, he managed a stammered, "Evening, sir... uh, deputy... Ive brought the... the payment." His fingers fumbled awkwardly with the pouch as he extended it toward the deputy, his hand trembling slightly. The deputy eyed him with cold, calculating eyes, his expression betraying no emotion save for the faintest hint of amusement at Rogers obvious discomfort. "Youre late," the deputy growled, his voice a low rumble, and Roger flinched, a bead of sweat trickling down his temple. "Im sorry, sir," he stammered quickly, "I-there was a problem with the crops, and the harvest... well, it didnt bring in what we expected, but-but here, its all here." He shoved the pouch toward the deputy, the weight of the bribe feeling like a stone in his hand. The deputy uncrossed his arms and took the pouch, weighing it in his hand with a dismissive glance before opening it, the clinking of coins louder now in the tense silence. Roger stood there, his hands wringing together anxiously, his mind racing with the fear that it might not be enough, that the bribe wouldnt cover whatever twisted deal hed found himself in. He waited, each second feeling like an eternity, until finally, the deputy gave a slow, deliberate nod. "Next time, dont keep me waiting," the man muttered, slipping the pouch into his belt. Roger let out a shaky breath he hadnt realized hed been holding, nodding quickly, almost too eagerly. "Yes, sir, of course, sir. Thank you." His voice was small, filled with relief but still edged with fear as he took a step back, eager to escape the tension of the exchange.
"Erm, yes." Roger blurts out aside to Ryan then, clearly not having expected another person to be here. There's another nervous looking between him and the deputy, before Roger turns to scurry back away.