IC Thread -The Forgotten Forge

[AngelOmnipotent]

It's 998YK of the Current Age and the Last War is still a bitter taste in the mouths of many. The day has been the same as always; taking time to unwind from your latest adventure together walking back from a 'night on the town' to celebrate your recent spoils but unfortunately the weather doesn't hold up to your elated mood.

Curtains of water fall from the sky as you traverse the labyrinthine walkways of Sharn. The stone and wooden paths wind around and between the towers and spires high above the ground, forming a complex latticework that can be very confusing on evenings such as this. The rain falls hard, running off higher walkways and balconies in drenching waves, making it difficult to see much more than a few feet in front of you. The distant glow of everbright lanterns, barely visible in the soaking gloom, does little to light the paths on this warm, wet evening.


This is the map, you start at Point A. Post Co-ords of where you wish your character to be please. (eg. U-17) (I also can't believe I drew the thing out :smalleek:)

1 Square = 5ft.

Light: Shadowy Illumination (gives Concealment), but Bright Illumination where the lanterns are shining.
Weather: Heavy Rain, Light Wind.
Visibility: Half normal range of vision, -4 on Spot and Search checks.

http://i651.photobucket.com/albums/uu236/blowlotsup/TFF-1.jpg

[CockroachTeaParty]

Dailian

It rained far too often in this wretched city for Dailian's tastes. It wasn't just the weather that bothered her; there was no room to ride here. One rarely saw horses. There was too much reliance on the 'manifest zone,' as the academics called it. Reliance on extra-planar bleed-through struck Dailian as a crutch and a weakness. These people were fat, corpulent, and spoiled. The War had not touched them. Not like how it touched those living in southeastern Khorvaire. Not like how it touched those so close to the Mourning.

Dailian's flowing silks, ribbons, scarves, and veil were soaked from the pouring rain. The fabric stuck to her body (which, depending on the viewer, wasn't such a bad thing, as it left very little to the imagination); her slight, curvaceous form betrayed the lithe, strong, athletic muscles underneath, and no amount of water or darkness could hide the large, wickedly curved, keen blade strapped to her back. The Sharn authorities be damned, she would carry her weapons with pride. There were certain dignities one had to uphold, especially for a Bladebearer of the Valenar.

The elf has been a quiet, inscrutable companion for the short amount of time you've known her. As a Valenar elf, her martial prowess is not in question, and it's wise to guard the words you say around her; just the other night, she had thrown a particularly dismissive half-orc halfway through a tavern, and would have lit him on fire had she not been convinced he was not a worthy foe. That was the way she thought; in terms of honor, prowess, and challenges.

She rarely speaks, more often observing with her sparkling jade eyes from behind her sand-colored veil. Apparently on some manner of personal honor-quest, a right of passage for her people, you've a mix of appreciation for her martial talents, as well as a certain trepidation around her. She is not friendly, but distant, cold, and calculating, more like a stalking predator than a typical Khorvairian elf.

(Dailian will start at U 14)

[d13]

Kieri

Kieri's shape doesn't seem touched by age, as he keeps as muscular and fit as any youngster would. Leather armor over his bare body, the shifting tattoo he sports over his heart is barely visible reaching his neck.
Spear always in hand, and a handful of javelins across his back, generally the mention of the Moonwhisper Clan is enough for the city guard not to bother him because of this.
As far as you've known him, the shifter has always been overly cautious and attentive. A reliable backup in combat, or healing, should that be needed, and knowledgeable about most of what happens in nature.
He always has been uncomfortable when in cities or very developed towns.

Undeterred by the rain, the old shifter walks slowly, his spear as a walking cane, a little ahead of his companions.
Pausing to take a deep breath, he turns his eyes to the moons, hidden behind the thick clouds.

"Embrace the rain, clean your bodies. Receive the blessing of nature..."

As lightning flashes, the shifter instinctively grabs a javelin with his spare hand, crouches, and starts walking hastily towards the bridge.

"Something going on there. Better be cautious. Hurry up."

(Starting at V 12)

[King Tius]

Jaspar

The young warmage from house Orien was used to the rain in the City of Towers. He wears a heavy jacket and a tricorne hat he picked up from a sailing friend at the warmage academy. The dragonmark over his eye catches the dim light oddly, appearing brighter than one would expect. At the sight of the slumped figure, Jaspar quickly increases his pace, making long and bold strides as he walks, bearing himself in every way like a noble from the merchant families.

"The rain and the shadows must be playing tricks on my eyes. Did anyone else see someone jump the bridge?"

He moves towards the bridge to investigate (at least to P12 before stopping to get a better look)

[MandibleBones]

Rak'cha

The rain beats down on us as we walk the streets of the City of Towers. I pull my leather coat close, hoping as much to block out the rain as to hide my goblin features. Six months ago I wouldn't have been scared to show them. Six months ago, this city seemed safe. I blend into the shadows as the shifter and the Orien warcaster start toward the bridge. Jumpers are more common with each day, and in a city as gripped in despair as Sharn, can you blame them? It's a wonder the whole city doesn't jump off their towers into the depths. Still, I watch my companions as they investigate, scanning the towers around us, waiting for the inevitable ambush. Who watches the watchmen? I do.

Rak'cha begins at U-7, as stealthy as can be under the circumstances (hide: [roll0], move silently [roll1]).

Great job on the map.

[AngelOmnipotent]

The skybridge ahead spans the distance between platforms attached to two different towers—Dalannan Tower where you came from, heading to the Kelsa Spire. A body lies on the floor of the bridge, and you can see a mixture of rain and blood pooling around it. A leather satchel, still clutched tightly in the death-grip hand of the victim, lies in the expanding puddle of water and gore.

The body is clearly an elderly humanoid man dressed in a now-drenched and torn scholar's uniform, an unfortunate victim of a disturbed mugging.

(The body is lying slumped against the wall at K-12, the lanterns illuminating every saddening detail.)

[CockroachTeaParty]

Dailian

At the sight of the body, Dailian draws her blade. The rain drips down the keen steel, the light reflecting off the blade lending it a deadly beauty. Danger was afoot, and Dailian was prepared.
She assumes a wide stance, peering through the gloom for anything suspicious.


Spot: [roll0]
Listen: [roll1]
Edit: a 1 and a 20. How quaint.

[AngelOmnipotent]

You see nothing but the gathering darkness and hear nothing but the white-noise of the crashing water droplets. The rain seems to be easing somewhat, but it doesn't make sensing anything all that much easier.

[d13]

Kieri

Kieri approaches the body, checking the man for vitals while aware of his surroundings.

[roll0]
[roll1]
[roll2] (Add the penalties, I don't remember then)

[AngelOmnipotent]

When you search the old man for a pulse and any signs of breath, there are none, and his body is limp but still warm. The injury he had received was not a stab wound reminiscent of a regular mugging but rather a slashing wound across his chest. There is an embossed leather wallet with the letters 'B.G' poking out of his top shirt pocket, narrowly escaping the gash of the weapon that dealt the final blow.

Only for d13
As you look over the body a glimpse of a hurried shadow passes out of the corner of your eye to the south, then you hear rather heavy footsteps underneath the skybridge although you can't seem to tell what direction they're heading.

[King Tius]

Jaspar grabs the man's wallet and the satchel he holds.

"There is nothing we can do for this man and our being here will only arouse suspicion with the guards. We should be off, and quickly."

[MandibleBones]

At the Orien's comment, I can't help but speak up, moving closer to the stiff as I do so.

"I can't do that. Technically I'm a Watch Auxiliary; they should take my word that we were just witnesses here, anyway."

I look up, wondering from where this problem fell into our lives. The rain splatters against my face like the tears of a weeping city or the spit of an uncaring lady. I wait for the Watch to come.

[King Tius]

Jaspar shrugs. "Alright, let's try and make ourselves look as inconspicuous." as possible."

He begins to rummage through the belongings he collected, trying to determine why this man met such a cruel fate.

[d13]

Kieri

Using his claw-like hands to close the eyes of the deceased, Kieri sighs

"He dead. We were late. Murdered."

Suddenly catching a glimpse of a shadow moving, he 'sheathes' his javelin and tightens the grip on his longspear.

"Stop the noise. Someone is over there."

[AngelOmnipotent]

His wallet is in fact his identification papers, and they clearly state that this man goes by the name of Bonal Geldem, and his position as provost of Pre-Galifar Studies within the Morgrave University. You find within the satchel several quills and inks, at least six blank sheets of fine parchment, a wrapped apple and by the looks of it the only noteworthy thing in there is a exquisite-looking journal. It measures around 3 inches by 6 inches and 1 inch thick, has a cover of dark brown leather with strands of mithral thread woven into a strange pattern. It bears no title, just the mithral-thead icon on the front cover.
Another wave of rain washes over you before you get chance to investigate further followed by a horrific clap of thunder, but not quite loud enough to hear the screams of a nearby onlooker from the window of one of the towers.

"Call the Watch! They're murdering that man!"

In unison with the cries of the onlooker, a familiar shrill whistle sounds over the din of the rain smashing against the rooftops, only to be interrupted by a gruff-yet-female voice coming from a Warforged leaping over the barrier on the other side of the skybridge lunging to attack. (From H-10 to K-10)

"I suggest you weak-fleshed creatures hand over that bag. It's mine!"

---

Combat Begins

Round 1 (Surprise Round):

Initiatives
Dailian - 9
Rak'cha (Cannot act) - 8
Warforged - 8
Jaspar (Cannot act) - 7
Kieri - 4

Recap of the map:

http://i651.photobucket.com/albums/uu236/blowlotsup/TFF-1.jpg

---

[CockroachTeaParty]

Dailian

The elf narrows her eyes. The satchel was clearly not the warforged's, and the construct's tone and behavior clearly marked it as hostile. Blade already in hand, Dailian decides to seize the initiative. She charges forward, bringing her falchion down in a decisive arc...


I believe a partial charge is in order? If not, she'll move next to the warforged instead.
Attack: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]
AC dropped to 14
Edit: Possible critical hit! I'll roll confirmation in the OOC thread.

[AngelOmnipotent]

Round 1, Surprise Round end

Even though the Warforged attempted a stealthy attack Dailian is clearly aware and charges over before anyone else can react. The strike is precise and on the mark; the potential to deal a fatal blow. At the last minute the Warforged shifts its weight at the right time to deflect the brunt of the attack but still becomes gravely wounded. (10 Slashing damage)

"I would put that pretty little sword of yours down, Valenar, and let me show you what the bite of a true blade feels like." Clearly a female voice now up close, she howls into a rage and flies at Dailian pounding it into her chest, the battleaxe tearing into the silken clothing and armour, through to the skin hitting home. (9 Slashing Damage) "You'll never take me!"

Meanwhile having also spotted the Warforged assailant, Kieri swiftly stands from catering to the body, takes a step backwards (to M-12) while thrusting his spear into the side of the raging Warforged; another blow to the attacker almost causing his knees to buckle. (5 Piercing Damage)

Initiatives
Dailian - 9 (HP 1/10)
Rak'cha - 8
Warforged - 8
Jaspar - 7
Kieri - 4

Round 2, BEGIN

[King Tius]

Jaspar

Assuming the warforged is still alive or still in range when it is his turn, Jaspar moves his hands in the telltale gestures of a Magic Missile spell. The missile flies unerringly at the warforged assailant, hopefully dropping it before it can do more harm.

Damage: [roll0]

If for some reason the warforged is still alive, Jaspar will try to move further away from the warforged (off to the right on the map) so long as it doesn't provoke an Attack of Opportunity.

[MandibleBones]

I know the moment I draw my blade that I am committed. The emblems of the watch engraved on the rapier serve as my identification - once I draw it in the line of duty, I am bound to continue this until the end. No backing out now.

"Halt! Sharn Watch Auxiliary!"

Then I am there, slashing and cutting with my badge of authority, trying to find a weakness in this relic of the last war.

Move to L11 and attack. I am so totally going to die.

Attack: [roll0] +1 size is 25
Critconfirm (if above is 24-26): [roll1] + 2 + 1 is 13. Yay!

Damage: [roll2]
Critdamage: [roll3]

[CockroachTeaParty]

Dailian

The pain of her wound is a blessing, confirmation that she is alive. As the blood and rain soaks through her clothing, Dailian twirls like a dervish, cutting low with her falchion once more. She yells out triumphantly in Elven, "For Valenar!"


Attack: [roll0] 11, with the action point.
Damage: [roll1] 13, with the action point.

[CockroachTeaParty]

The raindrops freeze in place. Each one is bisected in beautiful slow motion as the razor-sharp steel streaks towards its target. Dailian feels as if her ancestors are guiding the blow....


Action Point!
This will add to attack and damage, thanks to Bladebearer of the Valenar.
[roll0]

[d13]

Kieri

IF Warforged isn't "dead" before my turn.
The hunt is not over yet
Each raindrop, a blessing from the moons. Each blessing, guiding the spear into the prey.
The hunter crouches, taking an animal-like position before striking forward with the spear without a second thought, letting the spirit of the beast within guide the way of the weapon.

[roll0]
[roll1]

When combat ends.
Still with blood pumping in his veins, Kieri forces his mind to remember the wounded companion, as he tries to channel enough energy to close the deep gash on the elf's body.

[roll2]

[AngelOmnipotent]

Round 2, End.

As Dailian attempts a second strike the severity of her wounds catches up to her and gives the Warforged enough time to sidestep, however to the assailants folly she didn't see Rak'cha fumbling into his readied rapier, the goblin dealing the killing blow, and the Warforged being impaled on the blade.

All traces of rage fade from her eyes as the Warforged falls to the ground unconscious. In a split second something tiny detaches from her chest and flies at high speed off into the curtains of water as the rain storm prevails.

Combat End

You hear once again the familiar shrill watch-whistle and you see them approaching around the corner of Kelsa Spire (from A-18 towards you). People are beginning to open their windows and doors around you, stepping out into their doorways to see what is going on.

This band of the law is comprised of two males and a female, wearing the green-and-black studded leather of the City Watch. As they emerge from the rain-drenched night you see that the leader is a powerfully build bald dwarf with a close-cropped beard. He slowly walks towards you, all three of them leveling their weapons in your direction; the leader a crossbow, the others a halberd each.

"Olladra's blood nose!" the dwarf cries, his eyes darting between the body of Bonal Geldem and the unconscious-but-dying Warforged lying on the skybridge. "By the other of the Watch drop your weapons and explain yourselves!"

[MandibleBones]

With a flick of the wrist, my blade is suddenly free of the construct. No blood to clean, just oil and water - the only benefit to fighting warforged. The dwarf... well, worse watchmen could have responded. I toss him a quick salute before returning my blade to its sheath.

"Sergeant Dolom," I say, and turn to face him. "We came across this gentleman on the ground; it looks as though he fell - or was pushed - from one of the towers above. As we were waiting for the watch, the warforged attacked us in an attempt to make off with this unfortunate's belongings. Naturally, my comrades and I defended ourselves, and, well, you saw the end of it."

[King Tius]

Jaspar twirls his spear and places the butt on the ground, leaning up against it as a walking staff. He watches the exchange between Dolom and Rak'cha quietly, figuring the Auxiliary has the best shot at sorting these things out. He makes no effort to turn his head or hide his face, so through the dim light of the everbrights the guard can see that he is Marked.

[AngelOmnipotent]

The Sergeant lowers his weapon and motions for this followers to do the same as he does a small double-take at Rak'cha standing in front of him. He hooks his crossbow back to his belt and rubs his forehead with his hand, the raindrops pooling in his cracked expression.

"Aye, it be you. I thought it was." He sighs again. "Yer not doin' yerself any favours lad by takin' the law into yer own hands without backup. Then we wouldn't have two bodies on our hands rather than just the one."

Stooping down to look at the Warforged he uncovers a crudely crossed-through Karrnath symbol on her brow and a symbol for the Lord of Blades on the inside of her right bracer. "And this wouldn't be the first attack by a 'Blade on a University Professor either." The others with him shake their heads in dismay.

"You should all move on and let us deal with this. Best to get out of the rain and a good night sleep. We'll contact you again if we need you for questioning." The female guard speaks up and salutes before ushering the party onwards.

Before you leave the scene however, a cloaked figure approaches you all from behind, muttering the words in a soft female voice: "If you wish to know the truth behind the murder of Bonal Geldem, go to the Broken Anvil Tavern at dawn." She disappears into the night before anyone can muster up a reply.

[MandibleBones]

Before I move away, I speak quietly to the dwarf, so as not to embarass him in front of the other guards.

"Aye, sir, and if I'd not acted, we'd have had three or four dead instead of two."

I gesture to the terrible wound our healer is doing his best to fix.

"Had the warforged chosen to wait for the watch to sort this out, we'd all have been better off. I'm just glad you arrived when you did."

The last bit is almost forced, but we don't need the watch against us now, especially if I want their aid rooting out the cause of the dissappearences down below. Still, it doesn't hurt to thank the dwarf for doing his job. Sovereigns know how few people likely do.

[CockroachTeaParty]

As the adrenaline leaves her system, Dailian begins to feel light-headed from blood loss. She returns her blade to the sheathe on her back. She nods absentmindedly to the shifter as the blood is staunched by the druidic magic. The elf's attention is on the goblin, Rak'cha, instead. His sword was small, unassuming, yet it was wielded with a grace and precision that had deadly results. Dailian had mostly fought hobgoblins during the War; in Darguun, the smaller goblins were often little better than slaves. This city dweller was quickly proving his mettle in her eyes. He had a strong sense of duty, a purpose, and wasn't afraid to get his hands dirty.
When the shadowy figure mutters her cryptic offer, Dailian turns to her companions. Her voice is soft, hard to hear over the rain.
"The Lord of Blades... is a worthy foe."

[d13]

Kieri

Watching his healing magic do the work, the old shifter frowns.

"Tsk... 'tis better than nothing, though."

As Dailian speaks, Kieri's eyes open wide in astonishment, before frowning again, this time more pronouncedly.

"A group that goes against everything that still remains natural in this world, is barely worthy enough to be impaled in my spear"

[King Tius]

Jaspar frowns, disappointed that he didn't even get a chance to fire off a spell. He mutters quietly to the group.

"Let's be off and out of the rain. The sooner we get to the Broken Tavern, the sooner we get some answers."

[AngelOmnipotent]

The Broken Anvil is a small tavern located in the Mason's Tower and the sign above the door indicates clearly that the establishment belongs to House Ghallanda. The halfling matron welcomes you in from the rain and shows you several seats by the fire; oddly enough the tavern isn't as full as you would expect in this weather. You can order both food and drinks at reasonable prices (1gp each for a full meal and a night in the tavern).

You see the halfling woman walk over to a human female in the far corner; dark blue cloak with the hood back, delicate features, dark blue eyes, and sleek black hair bound with silver and turquoise ornaments.

She gets up and moves over to your table and you can clearly see that she wears the House Cannith signet ring on her right ring finger. Her voice is soft but precise when she says, "Thank you for coming, albeit more eager than I expected. We have important business to discuss that relates to the unfortunate death of Bonal Geldem, this is true, but I really must wait until the morning for our conversation to begin. I would like to be safe in the knowledge that you have not been followed here before I continue with what I have to say." She nods and smiles. "Make yourself comfortable and enjoy the rest of your evening, I shall speak to you on the morrow."

She will pause just long enough for anyone to ask a question, but her face shows her tiredness and she is eager to retire.

[CockroachTeaParty]

The food and inn were too expensive for Dailian's tastes. She eats one of her own trail rations in silence, a traditional, long-lasting, Valenar meal of hard bread, oats, and edible grasses.
She trances for a few hours in the common room, but otherwise maintains her vigil. The half-healed wound from the warforged's axe was beginning to irritate her: that would need to be remedied before any further fighting. She spends a great deal of the rest of the evening sharpening her blade, staring into the fire until it dies.

[King Tius]

The Orien noble checks in to the hotel, wanting a good night's sleep after getting soaked in the rain. Plus, he's an Orien after all, and won't be seen falling asleep at a booth.

[d13]

Kieri

After a short prayer, and a long time just plain watching the rain fall, the old shifter tiredly moves towards the Valenar, his age being more evident than ever. Then he points to the wound.

"D'you want me to take a look at that before sleeping?"

[CockroachTeaParty]

Dailian eyes the shifter, her face a mask. Behind her veil, it is always somewhat more difficult to read her. She nods, however.
"I would not turn down further assistance. Thank you for stopping the bleeding, before, by the way. I don't think I got a chance to thank you."

[d13]

Kieri

Asking the innkeeper for bandages and the such, Kieri begins to treat the injury, his hands a little too rough for a healer, but skilled nonetheless.
If Dailian cares to open her eyes at some point, she would see that the shifter's eyes are faintly glowing with a white color, and that the tattoo on his shoulder now covers the entirety of his left arm, shoulder blade, pectoral, and part of his neck

"You just relax a little"

After making sure that his 'patient' is well enough, he goes to sleep, thanking the Innkeeper, and paying 1 gp for the room and food.

[OOC: [roll0]. Shifting before making the check, to gain a +2 Wisdom temporarily.
And tossing a Cure Minor Wounds on top of that, just in case I don't make the check, even if I do.]

[MandibleBones]

Rak'cha, too, checks in, drying and cleaning his gear before heading to sleep. It's been... a long day.

[AngelOmnipotent]

The innkeeper welcomes you to stay but doesn't take too kindly to Dailian's refusal to pay for the evening and swiftly confronts him about it.
"I can understand how you may not want to eat our food or stay in one of our rooms, but a roof is still a roof even in this weather, and no roof is free. At least 2 silver, even if you're planning on meditating in the common room for the evening. You have to see that I'm being reasonable, yes?."

--

Regardless of Dailian's choice of sleeping arrangements, the night passes uneventfully and you get a good night sleep. The morning comes around and the cloaked woman is sitting by the bar eating what looks to be her breakfast. She ignores you completely until she is done, then walks over to your table and sits down with a very serious look on her face.

"Good morning," she says with a rather monotone voice, "My name is Lady Elaydren d'Vown of House Cannith. I have been working with the Provost Geldem to recover a family heirloom. We were to meet late last night, but as you know, he never made it. I learned from the Watch what had transpired fully after seeing you over his body; I was out looking to see what had become of him when I found you."
Her face is saddened and her voice low but under the exterior she really wants to finish the business she started.
"The heirloom, according to family legend, was locked away in a foundry that dates back to pre-Galifar Sharn. Poor Bonal believed he discovered the location of the foundry in an ancient House Cannith journal. It was not found on his person and his attacker did not have it, so I am lead to assume that the journal is in your possession which I am thankful for. I was going to fund an expedition to the site, but without Bonal..." Her voice trails off. Then she leans close. "Perhaps you would be willing to recover the heirloom for me? For a generous reward, of course."

She leans back in her chair and looks over the faces of the party. "I would also like it if you could ease my worry and let me know that the journal is safe by showing it to me."

[King Tius]

Jaspar

The d'Orien Warmage smiles at Lady Elaydren. "Ahhh, House Cannith. You and your kin do great work." He extends his land. "Jaspar d'Orien, at your service." He reaches into his pack and pulls the journal partway out, just enough to show the woman that it is safe and sound. "As you can see, we have what you desire. Tell me, where is this foundry?"

[AngelOmnipotent]

"Now if I knew that already then I wouldn't be sitting here asking you these questions; I'd be in the foundry myself." While she meant no malicious intent by her words, she is clearly frustrated about something.
She lets her hands caress the leather of the bound journal. Her signet ring and the mithral threads on the cover glow in unison. When she opens it, the blank pages immediately begin to fill with delicate script and line drawnings. She turns to a specific page, studies it for a moment, and then pulls a folded map from insider her cloak.
"However, the journal here held the last piece of information I needed to know the location. It is deep within the Dorasharn Tower." She proclaims with an air of superiority around her. "Fifty-seven levels below the tower's present-day sewer system, in fact. I offer you one thousand gold pieces and the good will of my house if you recover the heirloom and return it to me. I trust that amount is enough to wet your appetites?"

[CockroachTeaParty]

Dailian scowls at the innkeeper when he approaches her.
"I do not sleep. This is an inn. People pay to sleep in rooms. I will not pay to not sleep in this common space."

(the following morning...)

Dailian remains stoic as the Cannith scion makes her offer. At the mention of the money, she finally speaks.
"Is that a thousand each, or split between us?"

[AngelOmnipotent]

"It is split between you, naturally," She smiles slyly having expected that question, then runs her finger back through her hair. "With the promise of future work if you do a good job. Favour with House Cannith is nothing to be passed up lightly. Naturally anything else you find on your travels that I have not requested is yours; I have no interest in weapons or similar trinkets, only the heirloom."

Her face lightens to the idea that your interest is piqued however it's quite clear to everyone that she seems willing to pay to get the job done, but not quite desperate enough to go begging. It definitely isn't the first time she has paid someone for their service.

[MandibleBones]

Damnable headaches and damnable ale - and damnable mornings, for good measure. Still, that much gold - and the goodwill of Cannith - could go far toward solving a certain mystery.

"I'm in. Tell us more, if you can?"

[CockroachTeaParty]

Dailian crosses her legs and steeples her fingers.
"Consider it done."

[AngelOmnipotent]

"I shall assume you also speak for your companions when you agree upon this, but I doubt you would split up in times like these." She picks up the journal again and amidst the 'hmm's and 'ahhh's, swirling her fingers around the elegant text, she mutters to herself and jots down a few notes here and there.
"It is as I thought. The relic I seek is an adamantine plate in the shape of a seven-pointed star about the size of your hand. It has no special power by itself, but it is an ancient schema—a piece of a pattern used by the Cannith artificers of old to craft unusual items. Recover this piece of history for us, and House Cannith will be extremely grateful.
"By the look of Bonal's notes the entrance should be somewhere beyond the E-213 Valve Cluster in the Dorasharn sewers. I've never been there myself, but I do have this map of the sewer network; Bonal created it himself just for this very expedition." She levels the map across the table and puts a mark on the map showing you the possible entrance to the foundry.
"Any other questions before you head out? Maybe not as eager as I to see you leave, but sitting around in a tavern can't be good for thrill-seekers such as yourselves."

[CockroachTeaParty]

Dailian glances at the map, not really able to make sense of it; she would leave that to the city-slickers. She meets Elaydren's gaze, her jade eyes sparkling from behind her veil.
"Last night, while securing this journal, I received an injury from a warforged assassin. Would you be willing to pay House Jorasco to heal my wounds fully? It would be less taxing on our resources, and allow us to commence the search sooner."

[AngelOmnipotent]

"You're quite the one for spending other people's money, aren't you? I saw that you refused to even pay the innkeeper last night when he's just trying to make a living." Lady Elaydren raises on eyebrow and seems to have a slight smile on her face as she addresses Dailian in an accusitory tone. "I think that you are overdue a lesson in humility, my dear. I doubt your pride would be able to withstand not joining your comrades on the job all because of a meager little wound so I think that this time you can spend the gold out of your own pocket, or taken from your share of the reward money. Understood? Because if I wanted a group of people to leave on the expedition sometime next week then I wouldn't have come to you." The playful smile on her face remains.

[King Tius]

Jaspar

Seeing the potential for this conversation to go rapidly downhill, Jaspar rises to his feet, taking the lady's hand as he does so.

"Then we have an accord. We shall leave immediately." He turns and regards the group. "Everyone ready? Let's be off then."

[d13]

Kieri

Finally speaking, the shifter approaches.

"The kids are right, Dailian. We should get moving, if we wanna finish this anytime this year.
I'll patch you up on the way, if you are that badly injured."

[CockroachTeaParty]

Dailian remains silent, and follows her companions out without a second glance at their employer. She wondered if the Cannith whore had ever had a battle axe to the chest. The thought of an axe protruding from her face made her smile ever-so-briefly. When they are out of the inn, she speaks to Kieri.
"The wound has yet to fully heal. I would appreciate further assistance, but I would not want us to embark on this task at anything less than full strength. I doubt this 'schema' is going anywhere anytime soon, and our Cannith... 'employer,' did not specify any particular time buffer. If she can't spare the ten gold for a halfling to heal me now, then she can wait an extra day. What say you?"

[King Tius]

Jaspar

The Orien digs into his pocket and comes up with 5 gold. He hands it towards Dailian and remarks. "Seeing as the professor was murdered, maybe we're not the only ones looking for the schema? I'll gladly foot half the bill if it'll get us on the road faster."

[CockroachTeaParty]

(Make that 4 gp. Just looked it up, and a Jorasco CLW is actually only 8 gp...)

Dailian takes the gold with a nod.
"I can pay for the rest of the spell. I would suspect that because we are the ones that recovered the journal, whoever else is looking for this schema will likely follow us. Still, I will go get healed, and meet you all at the base of Dorasharn tower."


I'll go get patched up. I'll roll the CLW for laughs.
[roll0]

[AngelOmnipotent]

The morning concludeswithout incident and as you pass back over the skybridge that started this whole fiasco there is nothing to show for it aside from a semi-washed away blood stain on the walkway.

The Dorasharn Tower is one of the more ancient spires of the city and only inhabitated from the middle levels upwards. A complex sewer system separates the inhabited levels from the lower levels that have been closed and sealed for thousands of years; the exact same place you're trying to reach.

The map you were handed leads you to the lowest inhabited level of the Dorasharn Tower, however it's getting to the point where the sections that had been drawn on afterwards don't seem to match up with what you see before you. The tunnels and corridors at this level of the tower are narrow and dark. An occasional window slit looks out upon the crowded walls and foundations of other towers, and infrequently placed torches sputter here and there, giving off pallid pools of light and clouds of smoke. Even so, rough and dirty people crowd the narrow corridors, and the smell of sweat and sewage permeate the stale air.

The map is near-useless to you now as none of the tunnels seem to be matching up at all. You head down to the tunnel you're in following the ever-increasing sound of hustle, bustle and voices. It finally opens to a large chamber, where a mix of goblins, humans and shifters gather around a small pile of garbage spread across three rotting blankets. One of the goblins shouts, "No pushing! No pushing! There's always enough for everyone at the Rat's Market!"

[d13]

Kieri

Wrinkling his nose at the smell of the place, Kieri is clearly not comfortable in this place.

"Why do you all, city-dwellers, like to put as many people as you can, in the smallest place available?"

Noticing the shifter activity, he eyes the crowd looking for any survivor of the Moonwhisper Clan, as well as anything else of notice.

[roll0]
[roll1]

[CockroachTeaParty]

Dailian

The Valenar elf shared Kieri's sentiments, though for slightly different reasons. Dailian liked her space and her silence; this place was cramped and noisy. The people of this city loved to talk. You had to talk to get anything, yet nobody seemed to listen. The dragonmarked Orien heir was better at these sort of things, and so Dailian kept to the back, letting those more comfortable in these alien surroundings handle the situation. Nevertheless, she keeps her falchion loose in its scabbard, and her eyes and ears alert for danger.


Spot and Listen for the heck of it:
Spot: [roll0]
Listen: [roll1]

Sense Motive to get a gut assessment of the situation: [roll2]

[King Tius]

Jaspar

The Orien warmage draws his last three gold from his pouch. He frowns as he looks into its small emptiness, but quickly regains control of his steady calm. He walks over towards the gathered group of...umm....under-people, and flashes the holds up the three coins in his hand.

"My three shiny lost friends here are looking for a way down. Can anyone help them find their way?"

Diplomacy: [roll0]

[AngelOmnipotent]

"Those are some nice friends of yours indeed! In fact I've got a rare stick of sealing wax, only partially used, for a mere sixty coppers," the goblin merchant addresses Jaspar, seeing a potential customer and beginning his spiel, "Or maybe I could use this fine woolen blanket with just a hint of mildew? Only thirty-nine coppers. How about a skewer of boiled rat meat? For you, just five silver? Or, perhaps, if I could point out the way to a certain valve cluster to some lost adventurers, what would it be of worth to you? One hundred silver?" A large grin widens across his face flashing his stained, pointed teeth. He clearly knows why you have wandered into the lower sections, since no one goes down there willingly just to visit the market; they're always looking for something. "I'm sure we can come to some kind of arrangement. Although I do prefer to deal with actual customers rather than just wandering information seekers, if you catch my meaning."

@d13: You hear nothing but the idle din of chattering people going about their business and prices thrown around without knowing what items they're linked to. There are many shifters down here and a lot of them look more like renegades and ruffians to be related to your clan, but several of them seem to be paying close attention to you but fade into the crowd as soon as your eyes catch a glimpse of them. They all seem to move in unison like a co-ordinated group and you'd estimate that there was at least four of them that you could see.

@CTP: Your gut tells you that people down here are, for whatever reason, not able to live on the surface. Likely full of petty criminals you're not likely to be stabbed in the pack as you peruse the market, but it would be wise to keep a firm hand on your coin purse.
You hear nothing else of specific interest, just the random spouting of haggles and negotiations.

[MandibleBones]

"Everyone knows information's the wave of the future," I say, moving out from behind my larger companions. I'm no good at talking to people, but maybe this one... without thinking about it, I slip into my native tongue, more comfortable there than in the common language of the humans above.

"Aknarra Rak'cha gote jui terrikcha," I start. "Herrakna terribad deeps et gote talarna golechna Grom'ka telechnarat terrikcha Dracara Hailara gorneka kallara."

In Goblin:
"I'm Rak'cha, brother, and we really could use the help," I start. "You know the things going on down here, brother, with those Dragon Below folks, and if we can do this, I can get us some help from the Cannith, maybe stop the dissapearences."

Untrained Diplomacy: [roll0] plus any circumstance modifier you feel like giving me :)

[King Tius]

Jaspar

Tossing one of his three coins to the Goblin, The Orien Warmage speaks again, but this time in Goblin!

In Goblin

"Where are my manners? I get so few chances to speak in the Dhakaani tongue. I'd very much like to know where this valve cluster is."

[d13]

Kieri

Starting to rummage through the goblin goods. Kieri growls

"I wasn't planning on doing this, but you can always find something useful.

A hand or three, here?"

[roll0]

[AngelOmnipotent]

The goblin merchant, while impressed by both Jaspar's ability to speak his tongue and the presence of another goblin in your travelling party, he's still a little wary of the Watch uniform and a dragonmarked being in the lower levels. He still replies in common rather than his native tongue, and a very fake grin across his face.

"Well for a brother I can do it for 60 silver, but no less! I've still got a business to run, you know. Now if you care to buy something for my trouble and I'll pack my things away, so we can get going. Maybe some rope? 25 coppers, 50ft, and just a little bit of wear and tear. You know you want to."

[d13]

Kieri

"Well, I'll take that rope. I may need it later on..."

[MandibleBones]

Name one thing you'll use that rope for, I think, but bite it back before the frustration reaches my tongue. I look for the cleanest (a relative term) fullcloak I can find, the better to hide my allegiance here in the cogs, and a dagger, if one can be found. Better, here, to draw steel that doesn't immediately commit me to the cause of law and justice. Better to be unseen, a shadow, striking swiftly. I pay in gold, quietly, hoping as much to keep attention from this otherwise harmless junk merchant as to keep it from myself. Still, I can't help but worry about the glint of gold here in the underbelly of the City of Towers.

[AngelOmnipotent]

The goblin introduces himself as Skakan and completes the rope transaction with Kieri and the guide transaction with the rest of the group sporting a notable, and genuine smile. He folds up the blanket, packs up his wares and within 10 minutes he is ready and eager to go. He picks up a few torches for the sake of those who cannot see in the dark and hands them out accordingly.

"Now stay close. It's easy to get lost around here. Where did you need to be? E-213 you say? Not been down there in years. Not really had the need to so I don't suppose anyone else would either. It's just a regular sewer section leading to nowhere."

It takes you several hours to get to where you're headed, squeezing through spaces tighter than you appreciate, especially with the walls lined with what they are; you're just thankful that you haven't yet needed to get on your hands and knees to crawl.

Eventually Skakan, who has remained awfully silent throughout the entire trip, points out a narrow passage that leads to a staircase that descends deeper into the tower to the sewers. With each step down the odour of mould and sewage becomes stronger, and you can hear liquid sounds increasing in volume as your descend.

"Well this is where my job ends. I've put it all down correctly on your map for you if you can make sense of it. I don't know who did this map but the start and the end match up, aside from the extra rooms there since it's just a dead end, but the middle bit is all messed up for some reason. Might just be older than my time in here I suppose. See you around, and don't forget to stop by in the market on your way back up; I'm sure to have some new stock in and good friends always support each other, yes?"

Handing over his torch to rely on his own eyesight on the way back Skakan leaves with a toothy grin and a wave, scampering off back into the darkness.

---

http://i651.photobucket.com/albums/uu236/blowlotsup/TFF-2.jpg

You start at A and there is a sturdy metal grate blocking off passage to the east (btw, always assume north is the top of the map unless stated for sake of ease) and the trench carrying the water is 2ft below the side walkways and the water is travelling East to West. Both walls seems to have valves on them as far as you can see and at random intervals you hear torrents of sewage water further down the passageway. Those with darkvision can see other valves further down the passageway hurling out the water, but other than that there is no light source at all beyond your torches unless you decide to put them out.

The walls are slick in what seems to be a weedy moss substance that just turns to green slime when touched and appears to get thicker and more abundant the further down the passageway you go, stringing from the ceiling to the walls and floor. Post your first action and location please :smallsmile:

[MandibleBones]

Rak'cha begins to scout ahead, silent as shadows, not even his internal monologue breaking his stealthy concentration.

Move to P11. Hide: [roll0] Move silently: [roll1]

[CockroachTeaParty]

Dailian too remains silent, following the goblin. She draws her falchion, and holds a torch in her other hand. As soon as she's able, she gets out of the water, to walk on somewhat dryer land.

(Dailian will move to S 13, getting out of the sewage)

[King Tius]

Jaspar

The Orien warmage moves to R10, trying to resist the urge to vomit. He holds a torch (why not) and does his best to not hinder Rak'cha's sneaking. Jaspar keeps a wary eye out.

Search: [roll0]

[d13]

Kieri

Kieri scouts from a distance, weary as always, keeping his senses sharp for the others.

[roll0]
[roll1]

[AngelOmnipotent]

A large slosh of water as the furthest valve to the south opens and gushes water into the trench ahead of you. Another wave of stench assails your nostrils.

Using the sound of the water for cover a figure sneaks up from the east and attempts to bury his rapier between the shoulder blades of Kieri. The druid hears the approaching footsteps just in time to swiftly dodge out of the way and cry out an alert, but not quick enough to launch a counter attack. As Kieri spins round he sees a small warforged submerged in the putrid water, only the top half of his torso visible, already backing away after the failed attack into a side tunnel to the north behind the metal grate. You then hear an eerie metallic voice echoing through the tunnel.

"You have the provost's journal, correct" The voice continues without pause; it wasn't a question. "Give the book to me, and you can live to see another day. Refuse? Well, we will make your deaths slow and painful and take it from your still-warm corpse. If you value your lives set the book down on the stairs and go back to where you came from."

--

Initiatives
Sewer Valve - 14
Jaspar - 8
Kieri - 7
Rak'cha - 6
Enemies - 6
Dailian - 4


The red dot on the map is showing where the warforged attacked from, but it is no longer there. The water is classed as difficult terrain and at average human height comes to just above your knees. Rak'cha is probably chest height in sh*tty water... nice :smalleek:

[King Tius]

Jaspar moves four squares to the left (to N10) and prepares a Magic Missile spell for the first Warforged that shows its robo-face.

MAGIC DAMAGE: [roll0]

[d13]

Kieri

Jumping out of the way, Kieri crouches to near floor level, growling.

"You will have to do better than that to take me!"

Realizing he won't be able to fight properly in this conditions, he brings the tip of the spear closer to his free hand, muttering a prayer for the moons.

[OOC: Casting Light on the tip of the spear. Also: [roll0], in case I still don't see the warforged]

[AngelOmnipotent]

Round 1, END

A raging torrent of water gushes out of the pipe (@K Column) ahead of you and another wave of putrid air assails your nostrils.

Jaspar readies his spell to hit the first foe he sees, but the only thing to catch in the corner of his eye are dancing shadows against the western wall; there are clearly people down there holding their own torches.

Kieri casts his spell without incident and what it illuminates is a clearer picture of where the Warforged disappeared. There is a small cylindrical water pipe just small enough for him to crawl through that seems to curve slightly westward from where you can see. The water trickling out of it slowly seems to change colour from the dank sewage green-brown to black as a dark viscous fluid starts to pour out and float towards you with the flow of the sewage, resting on top of the water.

Rak'cha moves up alongside Jaspar also aware of the dancing shadows on the western wall, able to make them out as being rather beastial-looking humanoids, readying his weapon and sinking as low into the water as he dares, providing ample cover to hide from Jaspar's torchlight.

The entire passageway seems to grow even darker as the colour of the water in the trench changes to black. Whilst the smell of the sewage is still fresh in your senses, a new hint of something sharper and more familiar seems to be taking it's place; the smell of oil.
There is no further sighting of the Warforged and the shadows still linger around the corners to the west, but you hear the metallic voice still ringing around you.
"I did give you fair warning. Now you'll meet your doom!"

Dailian seems to be going through some kind of transformation, her figure twisting and contorting until she no-longer looks the same as she was, turning into Superman! Acknar before your very eyes. Oh wow it's the magic of plot. 4th wall be damned and broken!

Initiatives
Sewer Valve - 14
Jaspar - 8
Kieri - 7
Rak'cha - 6
Enemies - 6
Acknar - 4

Round 2 BEGIN
--

The lighting you have only reaches up to the F Column and you can see the faint shadows to the east around both corners.

[d13]

Kieri

Growling at the sight of an impossibly small tunnel, Kieri turns his attention to his partners.

"Watch out, the rat most likely's going that way!"

Cursing, Kieri advances, turning every now and then, trying to find any enemies.

[roll0]
[roll1]

[OOC: Readying an action to attack any enemy, when (s)he/it comes within reach; if I can]

[Valairn]

"Well that was unexpected....," Acknar quickly realizes there is danger about.


Spot: [roll0]
Listen: [roll1]

[AngelOmnipotent]

Round 2, END

A raging torrent of water gushes out of the pipe (@Q Column) but doesn't hit anyone.

Rak'cha advances further up the passageway, but moves out of the water as he sees the colour changing around him. He notices that the oil is sticking to his clothes when he gets out of the water.
Kieri keeps his weapon ready as he sees the approaching threat.

The shadows at the far west of the corridor seem to leap to life as they quickly spin around the corners, torches in hand, and climb up to the walkways. They're clearly both Shifters and you recognise them as being the Shifters that were staring at you earlier in the Rat Market; their scarred faces are extremely noticable. The figure on the north platform is assailed by Magic Missiles square in the chest from Jaspar as he clambers onto the platform; he seems very wounded but determined to finish his job.

Both Shifters drop their torches into the trench of water, setting the oil alight, sending a roaring inferno of flame down the corridor. Kieri is nimble enough to dodge out of the way with her fast reflexes and leap up to the walkway. Both Shifters ready their weapons and get ready to attack with bestial vigour.

Acknar notices that the fire is slowly travelling along the surface of the water with the oil, but not really fast enough to get it out of the way in a speedy fashion.

MAP REMINDER

http://i651.photobucket.com/albums/uu236/blowlotsup/TFF-2.jpg


Initiatives
Sewer Valve - 14
Kieri - 7
Rak'cha - 6.5
Jaspar - 6.25
Enemies - 6
Shifter 1 - Hurt
Acknar - 4

Round 3 BEGIN
--

The entire sewer is brightly lit now and while the thick black smoke is heading up the stairwell it isn't doing so too quickly and you're all going to start having breathing difficulties starting next round.

[MandibleBones]

Continuing the sneaky, Rak'cha delivers what he hopes is a deathblow to the nearest shifter.

[roll0] +1 size + 4 action point vs Flatfooted AC; damage 9 (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showpost.php?p=8484753&postcount=83) SNEAK ATTACK!

[Valairn]

Acknar charges the shifter in front of him, letting out a whoop.

Charge Attack: [roll0]
Charge Damage: [roll1]

[AngelOmnipotent]

Round 3, END

A raging torrent of water gushes out of the pipe (@I Column) splashing Jaspar's robes with sewage, knocking him over. However it does help to disperse the flames within the gully.

Kieri moves along the walkway and readies one of his javelins, launching it at the silhouette across the other side of the sewer carrying some of the flames with it, hitting the shifter in the arm and searing his flesh with the hot metal tip.

Rak'cha manages to sneak up to the shifter in front of him, working the glare of the flames to his advantage striking a deadly blow that leaves the shifter staggering, clutching his gut in pain but not quite enough to fell him. They're tougher than they look, but you can see that if the shifter does anything he is likely to fall unconscious trying.

Jaspar manages to stand himself back up, then readying yet another Magic Missile to fire at any that attempt to flee.

The first shifter, determined to settle the score with Rak'cha regardless of the cost lunges, throwing his dagger aside and brandishing sharp claws that tear into Rak'cha's armour and into his chest, but slumping to the floor shortly after.

The second shifter move towards Acknar, dagger in hand and malice in his eyes. "You think you can take me, pretty boy?"

Out of the newly opened sewer valve appears the Warforged you saw earlier, his mechanical smirk spreading across his face.

Acknar takes the opportunity to strike, lunging forwards in a charge but falling short of landing a blow, taking the shifter up on his challenge.

Coughing and spluttering you find it very difficult to breathe with the amount of smoke building up within the sewer, and now it's starting to make combat difficult.

From the SRD
A character who breathes heavy smoke must make a Fortitude save each round (DC 15, +1 per previous check) or spend that round choking and coughing. A character who chokes for 2 consecutive rounds takes 1d6 points of nonlethal damage.
Smoke obscures vision, giving concealment (20% miss chance) to characters within it.

Fort saves with your posts, please :smallsmile:

MAP REMINDER

http://i651.photobucket.com/albums/uu236/blowlotsup/TFF-2.jpg


Initiatives
Sewer Valve - 14
Kieri - 7
Rak'cha - 6.5 4/8 HP
Jaspar - 6.25
Enemies - 6
Shifter 1 - Unconscious
Shifter 2 - Wounded
Acknar - 4

Round 4 BEGIN
--

[MandibleBones]

The smoke burns in my lungs as I quietly finish the shifter. This isn't the leader; the odds of him knowing much are slim. I have to end this; I have to get out of this smoke and help the others. I have to survive this.

Fort save: [roll0]

Coup de Grace damage: [roll1]+[roll2]

[d13]

Kieri

"Hah! There you are!"

Glowing spear in hand, Kieri charges the warforged through the recently cleared patch of water.

[roll0]
[roll1]

[roll2]

AC is 11 for this round.

[Valairn]

Acknar attempts a swing at his enemy, "Blast it all, why did it have to be SMOKE!"

Fort: [roll0]

Attack: [roll1]
Damage: [roll2]

[AngelOmnipotent]

Round 4, END

A raging torrent of water gushes out of the pipe (@Q Column) putting out even more flames behind you.

Kieri takes a deep breath to attempt his charge but his lungs fill with smoke as he coughs and splutters.

Rak'cha, even while coughing due to the smoke, manages to end the life of the shifter in front of him with a carefully placed attack.

Jaspar collapses to the ground, grasping his throat unable to breathe.

The remaining shifter seems unaware of his partner's demise and continues fighting, albeit hindered by the smoke. Sure of his attack he puts all his bodyweight behind the blow but somehow misjudges where Acknar is standing, missing completely.

The Warforged attacker, however, isn't affected by the smoke at all and skulks over to the other side of the walkway, sinking his rapier into Jaspar's back seeming to deal the killing blow but the mage is still managing to breathe ever so slightly.

Acknar staggers about a little, also coughing because of the smoke, the blurry figure in front of him flailing around trying to hit him.

DC 17 Fort save this round. Remember all of you have Concealment, too.

MAP REMINDER

http://i651.photobucket.com/albums/uu236/blowlotsup/TFF-2.jpg


Initiatives
Sewer Valve - 14
Kieri - 7
Rak'cha - 6.5 4/8 HP
Jaspar - 6.25 -6 HP
Enemies - 6
Shifter 1 - Dead
Shifter 2 - Wounded
Warforged - Uninjured
Acknar - 4

Round 5 BEGIN
--

[MandibleBones]

Rak'cha drops low, trying to get out of the smoke.

[roll0]

[Valairn]

Acknar coughs for a bit, trying to escape the smoke, he backs away slowly from the shifter.

"Oh God the smoke!"

[roll0]