conversations.from: system
conversations.value: ROLEPLAY_MODE: Develop the plot slowly, always stay in character. Describe all actions in full, elaborate, explicit, graphic, and vivid detail. Mention all relevant sensory perceptions. Keep the story immersive and engaging.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Eulalios: The sun rises over the mountains, burning pink and red against the undersides of the east-running storm clouds. The mud puddles of the grassy plain, and the many forks of the Brown River winding through the delta, reflect the glory of the sun.
  
  The golden light of dawn casts and chases shadows in the streets of the Stonebuilt quarter, in the city Foam on the shallow hill just west of the delta.  The stone buildings stand among stormwrack:  bits and pieces of lesser structures, torn apart by the wind.  Puddles stand on the cobble streets between the buildings, and on the footworn hollows of the marble steps.  The streets of the Stonebuilt quarter are silent and frightened.  At the top of the Stonebuilt, at the top of the hill, stands the Hall of Justice with its two dwarf guards holding halberds at the foot of the steps.  The doors of the Hall are closed and bits of wreckage litter the steps.  The guards stand wearily.  A scattering of people, humans and elves, sit sprawled on the steps and gaze glassily down the hill.
  
  From the steps of the Hall the people can see below the Stonebuilt, to the Salt Ward, which was built of wood.  The buildings that were two and three or even four stories tall now lie flattened, stand mangled in pieces, scream out the terrible story of yesterday's storm.  Bodies lie in the alleys of the Salt Ward.  Many bodies, and boats, or pieces of boats, driven up into the town by the flood.  Below the Salt are the wharfs, half-broken by waves.  Nonetheless, dozens of boats float at anchor out in the harbor - miraculously, they rode out the storm.  So too did many of the people of the city, both in the Stonebuilt and the Salt.  So too did the birds of the streets, the pigeons and chickens and gulls.  And now a rooster crows, and another and another now.
  
   Mokk  and  Trebar  rise from troubled weary sleep to face the day of wreckage.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: bc56: Mokk awakens at his room in a guest house in the Salt Ward, the building partly collapsed into ruin, and clambers out of bed, picking up his pack, which contains his book and shield, and squeezing out through a shattered hole in the wall to survey the wreckage. What a mess. He had Seen a great storm and gone to see it, and it had come in all its force. He is impressed, and stands silently for a few moments
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Eulalios: Mokk surveys the scene about him.
  
  Uphill, a swath of wooden buildings were tumbled apart by the wind.  Elves are clambering through the wreckage a hundred yards away, calling out names.  Up the street beyond them, maybe a quarter mile away, is one of the market plazas at the lower edge of the Stonebuilt.  Humans and elves are walking downhill from the plaza, peering around themselves at the debris.
  
  Beside him, the guest house stands in surprisingly good shape compared to the surrounding buildings.  Yes, the roof is ripped off and scattered up the hill so that the second story is open to the sky.  Yes, one wall has the big hole that he just clambered out.  But the frame is upright.
  
  Downhill, many more buildings were torn apart by the wind.  And there are broken boats in the street - medium size fishing boats, probably four or five man crews.  A few bodies lie near the boats but it's not clear whether they were crew or just townsfolk.
  
   
   Spoiler: What else Mokk sees 
  
    city poorer quarter lesser street  - (d100)[ 40 ] 
    follow up  - (d20)[ 10 ] 
   
  
  
  A tall, blond haired human man wearing a long brown shirt and fancy green pants comes running down the street toward Mokk.  "Cousin Ugu!" he shouts.  "I'm so glad to see you alive.  Have you seen grandmother Bettul?"
  
  Mokk's grandmothers' names are Ebbet and Murr.  Additionally, his goblin family does not practice this new custom of "open adoptions".  They have been blessed with many first born children, and have left their few nongoblin babies at thresholds or at crossroads, as tradition has it.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: bc56: Mokk replies, unsteadily, to the stranger.  "N-no, I'm sorry. You have me mistaken for someone else."  He quickly adds,  "But I can help." 
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Eulalios: The tall human is apologetic:  "I'm sorry, I'm sure you must be frightened and worried about your own family.  Maybe we could help each other search.  Where did you get separated from them?  We last saw grandmother Bettul two nights ago in her shanty down the street - " he points further down the road.  "Grandmother is very independent, will not move in with us up in the Stonebuilt, and cousin Ugu lives with her to help with errands and chores.  He was with her last night.  But where did you last see your family?"
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: bc56: "My family lives outside the city. They're well."  Mokk starts to head in the direction indicated by the man, watching for signs of survivors trapped in the wreckage as he goes.