Shadows of the Last War

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On that fateful Day of Mourning, a nation of five million people was wiped off the face of Eberron. The beautiful land of Cyre turned into the desolate Mournland.

The destruction of Cyre on the Day of Mourning and the heavy losses incurred to the Brelish, Karnathi, and Thranish armies forced the war to grind to a sudden halt. To the surprise of many, the young king of Karrnath Kaius ir’Wynarn III, a nation which historically opposed all previous attempts to end the war through diplomacy, proved to be a strong proponent for peace. At his invitation, over the course of a year a series of negotiations were held at the island of Throneport (the old prewar capital of the kingdom of Galifar). The negotiations resulted in the Treaty of Thronehold, which brought an end to a near century of bloodshed. The treaty recognized the sovereignty of the new nations which were formed during the war. Many of those nations gained their independence through carving out pieces of the five nations’ territories. The negotiators also had to address the existence of the Warforged, the new race that was created as a result of their feud. At the insistence of King Boranel of Breland, the treaty mandated the emancipation of all warforged and they were to be granted the full civils rights of any sentient being. Unfortunately the spirit of this promise was ignored by Thrane and Karrnath, which declared many of their warforged “indentured servants” to the government who had to give service to the state to pay for the cost of their creation.
Furthermore, House Cannith was ordered to destroy all of its creation forges and was forbidden from creating new warforged.

The treaty also addressed the issue of war crimes. The independent nations of Khorvaire had no central authority to whom they could turn to levy charges against citizens and military leaders of other countries. The Last War saw many atrocities committed in the name of kings and gods, and the populaces of the remaining Five Nations cried out for someone with the power to convict and sentence those responsible. Thus did the treaty establish the Tribunal of Thronehold, a court that rules from the neutral island, and who commands the marshals of House Medani to track down and arrest war criminals, across national borders if necessary.


The Thronehold negotiations heaped a great injustice onto the Cyrean refugees. Though the Day of Mourning was crucial in getting the Five Nations together to end the Last War, no Cyran representation was permitted. Queen Aurala of Aundair, Cyre’s only ally during the war argued “Cyre no longer exists, The refugees have no voice in these proceedings”, High King Vadallia of Valenar agreed. And so Cyre was left out of the accords that redefined the continent and ended the Last War.

The response to the Cyrans’ plight after the Mourning is one of the greatest indictments of Khorvaire’s “humanity.” Although some did extend a hand to those in need, war had so hardened the hearts of the citizenry of the remainder of the Five Nations that most Cyran refugees were turned away. Far more perished in the days after the Mourning than should have.

When the extent of the destruction became clear, King Boranel, wracked with grief over the death his daughter and as some would claim, his possible role in the cataclysm, was the first to allow unarmed refugees to pass through his lines. He invited all of the Cyrean refugees to settle in Breland, and eventually granted Prince Oargev and his people “temporary” lands in the East where New Cyre was eventually founded in the shadow of the gray mists that had overrun their homeland. No other nation was as charitable. The young Keeper of the Flame, Jaela Daran spoke movingly about the faithful of the Silver Flame accepting and providing for the dispossessed, and the the Church provided substantial aid to the refugee communities. But the hard-liners in Thrane roused the populace with stories of Cyran depredations and kept the bulk of the refugees out. Aundair and Karnath established small Cyran refugee communities, but again no significant action was taken. The ruthless Valenar elves slaughtered all who approached their lands; the goblins of Darguun were no more forgiving.


Thus the people of Cyre were scattered from their former homeland. The great majority of the Cyrean diaspora accepted King Boranel’s invitation and settled in Breland. Most of the Cyreans settled in the large refugee town of New Cyre. The party and the other refugees who did not settled in New Cyre have established new homes in the city of Sharn. With the destruction of Metrol, Sharn became the most populous city of Khorvaire. The inhospitable outcropping that Sharn sits on allows the city to grow only in vertical height. This might have been a problem for other cities, but Sharn happens to be located within a manifest zone linked to the plane of Syrania, the Azure Sky. The manifest zone enhances magic that creates flight and levitation. This allows Sharn to have towers that rise nearly a mile in height, transportational flight, and even a section of the city that floats above the highest towers.

Despite strife and turmoil, the 8th Eisen Commandos have not disbanded. They now works as a band of mercenaries, surviving by whatever work they can get, with a home of sorts in Sharn. Its been hard in the four years since the day of mourning. Many are not eager to employ members of an enemy nation, particularly former soldiers. Even Breland was apprehensive to welcome the militia of Cyre into their lands, and tensions have eased little since the Day of Mourning. But the 8th Eisen have held true to each other, to the spirit and the memory of Cyre, that was utterly and irrevocably destroyed that day.

Since the Day of Mourning when the mists of death settled over Cyre, few have ventured into its dangerous grasp, and even fewer have returned. Some thieves, some scholars, some patriots and lonely citizens looking for lost family and friends. Those that did return came with tales of a strange, still land of death and silence. Corpses, as fresh as ever, sprawled, faces writhing in agony, suffocated and strangled, frozen and unrotted. Men, soldiers, women, and children lie sprawled in the mud, running desperately from the oncoming storm. They did not make it. Armies and common folk all dead and still. All of the cities, the shell of a once great nation, prosperous and bright and warm: all of it frozen in a wasteland of bodies and ruin. They say that the Mournland, what is left where Cyre once stood, shifted that day. All of the cities and armies and hills and towns have moved, shuffled in the storm. Some even claim that it still moves and shifts with every passing day. The Mournland has proven difficult to navigate, and finding anything in the swirling mists: almost impossible. Few will guide any man into those mists, and those that return, most of them swear they will never revisit those frozen horrors hidden away in the fog of death. Like a sickening wax museum of terrors with no decay, the remnants of the war and of Cyre remain forever fixed in their fear and anguish. No one knows what happened that day, nor has any nation claimed knowledge or responsibilty: an act of nature, some great magic from deep in the belly of Eberron erupting; or the wicked act of an evil necromancer; or some other terror that saw it fit to wreak havoc and cause unspeakable death and torment in Cyre, perhaps no one will ever know.

As far as the world is concerned, you and the rest of the Cyrean people are nothing more than the Shadows of the Last War.


~~~~

“You find yourselves in another inn, waiting for a client to arrive. Late, as usual. The self-important nobility of Sharn seem to hold little regard for those stationed beneath them. The Broken Anvil, a rather out-of-the-way establishment but not shabby, is located in the Mason’s Tower carved into the tower wall. Rain pours outside and the sky is dark though it is hardly past midday. The tavern is empty, save for the party and the owner, who is currently in a backroom carrying casks of wine and ale to the front of the inn.

Streaks of lightning cross the sky; thunder rumbles softly in the distance, muffled by the walls of The Broken Anvil. Silhouetted by the forking light, a figure approaches the door of the inn. Hopefully this is the Lady Elaydren d’Cannith for whom the party has been waiting ever so patiently. But the figure that opens the door of the inn is dressed in a worn brown cloak, her face and hair soaked by the rain and splattered with some dirt. Surely this is not the noble Lady of House Cannith, once held in the highest regard in Cyre and still the leading force in production across Eberron.

[Rofltrollcopter]

(As a note, feel free to take this opportunity to share your thoughts about what has happened with each other over the last few years. We will be introducing some more plot stuff in a little bit.)

[WyvernBlade]

Sitting in the tavern K'hnut has grown accustomed to waiting for his employers who are far too often so conceited, for his likes. But then again he found he could ignore that given that interaction with them often ended in him getting paid, which lead to food, which made him forget why he didn't like them in the first place. Half wanting to get up and do something with his body while they wait he considers helping the tavern keep, but figures his next contract likely will not have him sitting around, so he decides to enjoy his chair while he can.

When the door does finally open K'hnut has slipped into a deep relaxing state, barely above sleep and is rather loath to let the relaxing moment go. He decides to linger in his relaxed state hoping that another member of his party will deal with this woman who has so rudely interrupted his siesta.

[Arkady]

While the loss of Cyre was a terrible blow, Goldfeather was devastated by the loss of the kalashtar in Cyre, especially in her home city of On'vre. All of the preparations of several generations wiped out in an instant. She tried to contact any surviving members of the community, but the few that had been outside of Cyre at the time were scattered and disorganized. Most filtered into other kalashtar communities. Goldfeather, without a home to return to, stayed with the only family she had left now, the Commandos. While turning to a mercenary lifestyle was never something that Goldfeather had imagined herself doing, it was all she had left now. Lost without the Path, it seemed like a good direction to take while her life fell apart.

After seeing the woman enter, Goldfeather does not immediately dismiss her. Life for Cyreans could be tough after all that had happened, who knows what state the lady would arrive in. She will watch the woman, but otherwise will make no actions.

[NightAngel16]

Leaning back in his chair, Traxian lowers his tinted glasses to observe the figure in the doorway. The brief flash of lightning causes momentary discomfort to his sensitive eyes. Clothing, of poor quality. Appearance is unkempt not typical of a house noble. Yet her practiced gait and composure suggest she was not born into poverty. Furthermore, only a fool or our all-important lady would bother venturing out in such a downpour. I will not discard my first hypothesis, but I will assume the latter for now.
I chose a maroonish, dark red colour for Traxian. COLOR=#990033

[The Big Orc]

Having been freed by the Treaty of Thronehold, the renamed "Free Bird" has stayed close to the few meat bags that he does not despise. Being freed has done little to quench the fire that rages against the races that once imprisoned him. The warforged may be young, but Free Bird was young when the creation forges stopped pumping out more soldiers and he has not gained the wisdom that has let some of the others let go of their hatred.

Waiting silently for their employer, Free Bird contemplates the machinations that he will one day build. Just as he is mentally putting together the schematics for a long range missile launcher, he is distracted by the sound of an open door and the plans fade away. Free Bird stands to greet the new comer, "Lady Elaydren?"

[ErminaPix]

When the lady walks in, Phyrie looks up from her chair where she's been staring absentmindedly into the blazing hearth. Fire is the only thing she finds comfort in these days. It's the only thing that brings warm memories of her foster father to the forefront of her mind.
These jobs and her companions are the only thing that keeps her sane and grounded. They give her a purpose in life besides allowing the vengeful thoughts plaguing her mind to take over. Phyrie's replayed the events leading up to the day of mourning over and over, and can't fathom how she could have done anything differently. Well, she has worked tirelessly on improving her casting abilities so that she wouldn't buckle under pressure again. But she still can't figure out how that lone figure in the air ship knew of the pending events. Clearly, someone was responsible, but they weren't owning up to their actions, and that's what she can't stand. Who will seek justice for the war crimes of old? Does anyone but her immediate party care?
Phyrie is engulfed with emotion and consequently takes it upon herself to stoke the fire with a definitive "ARGH!!"

[Rofltrollcopter]

The woman seems startled by Phyrie’s outburst and holds her hands up as if to cast a spell, and then stops to pull down her hood. She sits down at a booth, and waves one of the serving girls away. She begins speaking in a calm, authoritative tone in spite of her dishevelled appearance. “Yes, I am she.” She takes off one of her gloves, revealing a dragonmark scribed into the back of her hand “I take it you are the Cyrean mercenaries?”

There are a few other random patrons in the tavern, but none of them seem to paying heed. They are either engrossed in their own conversations or reading through the latest edition of the Sharn Inquisitor

OOC: Through a successful Knowledge Arcana check, Phyrie recognizes the Dragonmark as a Least Mark of Making

[The Big Orc]

"We are the 8th Eisen, my lady," Free Bird bows his head softly before seating himself across the booth from Lady Elaydren. "How can we be of service to House d'Cannith and Cyre?"

[Rofltrollcopter]

I am not here on behalf of the Cyrean refugees, although I am not unsympathetic to their plight. I would suggest that you watch where you proclaim your allegiances to our old nation. You notice that Elaydren speaks with a slight Cyrean accent. "Many in Breland are not as sympathetic as King Boranel, and the Brelish Parliament took offence to Prince Oargrev calling his town 'New Cyre'. They would much rather see Cyre forgotten and have its remnants assimilate into Breland.

Now as for our business. Most of House Cannith's operations were based in Cyre throughout the war. We lost most of our leadership on the Day of Mourning, and have been slowly getting our house back in working order. We have discovered that House Cannith possessed a hidden workshop in Cyre. Unfortunately, its exact location and purpose was a closely guarded secret of House Cannith's Patriarch which he took to the grave on the Day of Mourning. We wish to regain access to this facility and the vault contained within.

This will be a very dangerous expedition, and thus House Cannith is willing to pay you 3000 gold. Each. 1000 of which will be given to you up front, the rest of which will be given upon successful delivery of the vault's contents. Not to mention you would have the favor of the House of Making, which I consider to be a much more valuable prize then mere gold. Do I still have your attention?"

[NightAngel16]

Traxian leans forward, the firelight reflecting off his specs. "Unraveling the truth behind a closely guarded secret is usually a reward in itself, but your coin eliminates any shades of doubt. My allies have yet to confirm their participation, but I'll throw in my lot."

[Arkady]

"I would like to know some more information before I agree to this. You say the exact location and purpose is unknown, yet you wish us to find it and open it. What can you tell us about this vault of yours?"

[Rofltrollcopter]

Unfortunately, there is not much that I can tell you. We only discovered its existence a year ago when we came across a reference to its existence while perusing a few old documents. During the war, House Cannith sponsored an expedition to Xen'drik, and something that they found was transferred to the vaults within this hidden workshop. The workshop was called 'Blackhearth'. We do not it believe it be as large a facility as the great forgeholds of our House, but that is the only other useful information we have. We want you to find this facility, ascertain its condition, recover the contents of said vault and return them to us.

[NightAngel16]

"Well, a good starting point would be allowing us to peruse these mysterious documents. Perhaps learning the nature of what was stored in the vault will help us ascertain a possible location."

[Rofltrollcopter]

Elaydren shrugs If you really want to waste time reading hundreds of shipping manifestos, you can. You will not be able to find any other useful information. Traxian believes that she is not being deceptive. "House Cannith had an archive in the town of Rose Quarry, within this archive there should be a record of all of Cannith's hidden workshops in Cyre. The catch is that Rose Quarry was located in Darguun, before the goblinoids seceded from Cyre. You must seek out a man called Failin within the Bloody Market in Rhukaan Draal. He will be able to provide passage to Rose Quarry. Once you find the location of Blackhearth, you will have to venture into the Mournland to find it. I would strongly suggest that at some point you visit the town of New Cyre. New Cyre is the starting point for most expeditions into the Mournland. Many treasure hunters venture inside in hopes in claiming some of Cyre's abandoned wealth. If you want the most recent information about the Mournland, that would be the best place to go. Well, with the possible exception of Karrnath. King Kaius III has sponsored several expeditions to find Metrol and to reopen its lightning rail station. Aundair and Thrane have forbidden their citizens from looting the Mournland, out of fear of rousing whatever Evil that destroyed Cyre. Breland itself is indifferent, but Prince Oargrev encourages it in hopes of discovering whatever caused the Day of Mourning."

[Arkady]

After thinking it over a bit, Goldfeather nods. "I believe that we will take your offer Lady Elaydren. Shall we formalize our contract now, or would you prefer to wait until tomorrow morning? In either case, it would be best to start preparations immediately. Unless there were any other details your wished to add?"

After the Lady has left, Goldfeather will stand up. "I will go ensure that we have the proper supplies for our trip. I would appreciate company, if any of you wish to come along."

Goldfeather will leave with whoever wants to come along to go buy provisions for herself and her companions. After that, she will return to the inn to stay the night.

Also, I have a light horse now, because I want one. His name is Bill the Second. Let me know what the cost of supplies is.

[Rofltrollcopter]

Elaydren picks up a small backpack she carried in and puts it on the table. Nothing, save that I would appreciate it if you would be as discrete as possible. House Cannith has many enemies. Inside here you will find most of the supplies that you should need, including your advance. There is also a letter of credit which will allow you to book passage with either House Lyrandar or House Orien. She pulls out a letter sealed with the insignia of House Cannith, and places it on the table. "Once you have completed your task, give this letter to any House Sivis message station and I will get in contact with you. Do you have any other questions?"

[WyvernBlade]

Seeing that the party seems to be doing just fine handling the woman K'hnut is quite content to stay quiet. If he gets to skip out on talking about the details and still gets paid all the better by him.

When Goldfeather heads out for supplies K'hnut will get up and follow her, "Hold up Godfather, I think I'll join you on this one. I would like to know what we are bringing on this one, and besides I think you will need me to help carry everything.

[NightAngel16]

Traxian tips his hat at Lady Elaydren. "Feel free to take your leave my lady, unless the others have any pressing questions on their hearts." Turning towards the rest of the party, he deliberately reaches into the small backpack and counts out his share of the down payment. "I am also planning on acquiring a few extra 'tools', but I will see to that errand AFTER this rather unpleasant weather." He gives a bit of a smirk towards Goldfeather and K'hnut.
I have some gold left over from character creation... and I kinda wanna get a vanisher cloak. 2500 g too much? (MIC pg 145)

[hexavi42]

Fennel had never felt that attached to the world in the first place - he interacted with almost everyone he knew through a mask, steel or flesh. If they knew you were a changeling, people tended to shy away from you, put up walls and shutter windows. Fennel tended not to connect with people on any but the most abstract level, though he was well-liked by enough common-folk for it to be uncanny. The fall of Cyre brought the issue to the forefront - as everyone else was reeled from the shock, he'd mulled over his absolute lack of emotion. The others he knew would cry or sigh or simmer over lost homes or gardens, loved ones, pets left behind; he'd consoled them, best he could, patting shoulders and gruffly nodding.

Truth be told, he didn't miss Cyre. Everything in it was as transient in his mind as the cartography after the war. The devastation and diaspora had broken a few tenuous connections, but the dead and missing only reaffirmed his conviction. He could only look forward. He would walk, one step after another, the road that, however meandering, led to the Traveler. It would be safer and mildly more enjoyable to stick with this band of fools and their pet warforged - he was no more likely to find the Traveler on his own anyway and, as he'd oft-repeated (mostly to himself), "the journey is the destination".

Fennel merely watches as the woman approaches and lays out the task ahead - he was supposed to be the party's face, but they could handle it well enough for now. It was something they should be able to do for themselves anyway, in case he felt an urgent need to be elsewhere again. It had only happened to him once before, with that noblewoman, but it was something that he had to plan around.

His only concession to the woman's presence was a quick mental check that his features were as they were supposed to be, under the steel visor. His current face was one that he'd worn since 8th Eisen had formed, from a template that humans tended to find trustworthy and attractive - blue eyes, blond hair, prominent cheekbones and brow, with a semi-broken nose, cleft chin, and golden beard-stubble rounding off the image.

[The Big Orc]

Thanking Lady Elaydren as she leaves, Free Bird asks the party, "Should we not figure out what our patron has left us with before we rush off to purchase supplies? She mentioned supplies other than our advance in the bag."

[NightAngel16]

"Well none of us lay exclusive claim to whatever is in that sack, but seeing as how I've already started perusing it's contents... I'll do the honors." Traxian opens the knapsack to begin extracting the rest of the supplies.
So what's in here?

[The Big Orc]

"I do believe that we lay exclusive claims to our individual gold payment."

[Rofltrollcopter]

Before the party has a chance to examine the contents of the backpack, chaos erupts (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=omOPYd9QAB0). The windows break open and two small kobolds dive into the room. The doors to the tavern burst open and several cloaked figures along with two other kobolds rush into the inn. One of the cloaked figures shoots a bolt from a crossbow at Lady Elaydren. The bolt finds its mark and embeds itself in her chest. The crossbow wielder then speaks with the gravelly voice of a warforged "No witnesses." One of the kobolds also carries a crossbow, which he uses to to shoot at Phyrie. The bolt hits her in the arm. One of the warforged bearing a long sword and heavy shield steps forward. He is scarred quite heavily, and appears to be the most dangerous of their number. He swings his sword in a large arc, barely missing Fannel but landing a vicious strike on Traxian. Traxian recognizes the technique as a maneuver from the Iron Heart school. The patrons of the tavern starts screaming as the melee erupts. One of them is brutally cut-down by a warforged.

Combat Information:


dem failed listen checks


There are eight enemies in sight. Four warforged and four kobolds. Elaydren is the one with the red dot. The map is on roll20. To make things easier, every square in the tavern is open space. Except for the grey squares, which are considered difficult terrain. You all act on the same initiative (e.g. everyone should post their moves at the same time)

Traxian took 14 damage. Phyrie took 4 damage.

[Arkady]

Bolting upright at the sudden appearance of baddies, Goldfeather responds in kind by firing off some blasts of fire.

Casting Energy Missile (Fire Type)
Reflex Save of 10 + 2 (spell level) + 4 (int score) = 16 to halve damage
Damage to each target: [roll0]

After this, she will jump across the chair behind her to check the Lady's condition.

[NightAngel16]

Traxian steels himself and spits out the blood in his mouth. "Try striking when the shadows hide the truth of the matter..."
Cloak of deception, swift action, greater invisibility until end of turn.
5 foot step to the right.
Use up 2 charges on the healing belt -> [roll0]

[Rofltrollcopter]

Both of the Warforged managed to dodge to the side, avoiding the bulk of Goldfeather's energy blast. The kobold is not so fortunate, and is incinerated. Elaydren is in shock, and fumbles for something at her belt, but it looks like she is about to enter the fray.

[WyvernBlade]

Hopping up from his seat as the glass breaks and coming fully alert. "Nothing better than a bit of bashing after a nap!"

K'hnut scrambles into the fray and positions himself squarely between two opponents hoping to tempt them into attack him instead of his allies. Deciding that that may not be tempting enough he decides to give one of them a bit of motivation. Swinging motivation his trusty flail he performs a maneuver known as leading the attack.

Designating the guy below and to the left of me for my dodge feat.
Leading that attack on silver guy attack: [roll0]
Damage if hit: [roll1]
Also if it hits everyone has +4 on their attack to hit that guy for one round. Also Mike heals 2 if I hit.

[Rofltrollcopter]

The flail sweeps agianst the warforged's leg, but it does not appear to be phased. "foolish fleshling"

(The attack misses)

[The Big Orc]

Free Bird sighs and moves forward while drawing his weapon. Slamming his morning star towards the enemy warforged, he lets out a growl of rage.

Attack Roll [roll0]
Damage [roll1]

[ErminaPix]

Phyrie, taken by surprise, grunts as shooting pains up her arm temporarily distract her. She shakes her head, teeth chattering in anger as she elaborately moves her arms/hands in the practiced routine for a fire bolt


not sure how to see if I hit. I'll roll a d20 and someone can decide if you add things
[roll0]
Concentration for firing while injured
[roll1]
Damage
[roll2]

[Daphoa]

The warforged is struck by the full force of the fiery bolt. It is badly damaged, and appears to be on the verge of collapse

[hexavi42]

Fennel's apathy turns to surprised anger in a heartbeat, as the kobolds and warforged burst in and attack his team and the woman they were dealing with. He pushes back from the table and slams his tankard thunderously against the heavy oaken surface to draw the room's attention. Thinking on his feet, Fennel shouts "Look here, you craven little knives in the dark!", drawing divine power into his words and manner. Tendrils of holy light wreathe around his armor and exposed skin, lending his stern, lordly countenance an aura of charismatic authority. He continues to speak, forcing a growling timbre into his voice.

"We are the 8th Eisen, and we did not battle through the horrors of the Last War to be challenged by a motley band of wannabe assassins. If you have legitimate quarrel, I'll allow you this one last chance to set aside your weapons and come to an agreeable compromise. Any other action, and we will take the opportunity to paint this town in your blood and other assorted bodily flu-"


Fennel takes a (slow, measured, controlled) 5 foot step to stay out of the reach of the one enemy in range to avoid AoOs. The "holy aura" is him using up stacks of turn-undead to power Divine Metamagic (for Heightening the Enthrall for a DC of 20) - I thought it could do with some flavor. Showy speeches aren't really in the Traveler's purview, but trickery is - in Fennel's mind, he's pulling one of the greatest cons that he's done in a while.

I assume none of the listed histories actually happened - Fennel just hopes to mesmerize the room with visceral imagery. If the rest of the party attacks soon after, it would be reaaaally nice and theatrical if they took the "olive branch or the sword" line as a cue.

The intro mentions no patrons, but the latest entries describe other patrons and the map for battle does show bystanders. I'll assume that they are there, and are captivated by the speech as well.

Remaining segment of the speech, before interruption:

"ids.

We waged war, fought at any cost, scrabbling and clawing our way to victory time and time again. Yes, yes, you say "Oooh, but Cyre lost the War!" - do you ever wonder how we managed to hold out so long, against armies multitudes larger than we could ever field?

The answer is cold, calculated cruelty, cruelty verging on the obscene. People think twice about attacking you, when retaliation is guaranteed to be quick, thorough, and vicious. The meted punishment met the crime, in most cases. What do you fight for?"

Fennel pivots to face the kobolds, as if addressing them directly.

"Is it for money? We'll pay you more than you could ever want. Before the end of the War, Cyre paid its mercenaries handsomely for their services, but still saw desertion and betrayal in the ranks. 8th Eisen fixed it, by paying a visit to every sellsword captain who'd ever wronged our nation, and giving them all the coin they could desire, and a teeny bit more. Generous, wouldn't you say? Their cronies must've certainly found it so, stumbling upon their coin-glutted corpse the next morning. These days we're slightly shorter on coin, but I suppose it doesn't really matter whether it's copper, silver, or gold that fills your gut and stops your throat."

He swivels to face the warforged, the heavily scarred one in particular.

"Do you fight to right a wrong? Continue fighting, and we'll serve you the same plus interest. We once faced a Karnathi regiment, led by a brilliant, inspired colonel - one Korvo Synathos, from a little town in the middle of nowhere. They won almost every field they fought on. We met with the colonel, asked him his price. He wouldn't budge, said he was fighting for his little brother, who'd almost been conscripted but was saved at the last minute when Korvo volunteered in his stead. He said that he feared the repercussions for his family if he took our bargain. 8th Eisen stopped by his quaint little town, on the way to another mission. You won't find it anywhere on a map; it's little more than a crater now. Thatch-roofed huts burned to the ground, wells poisoned, fields salted and sown with the crushed bones of just about every man, woman, and child in the village. We didn't harm his brother though - the only other surviving member of the Synathos line was held safe under our keeping. Korvo broke not long after and we sent his brother back to him, relatively whole.

Do you fight for a cause? We will crush that ideal beneath steel-shod heel, as we did with the Third Thranish Irregulars. They fought for church and state, harrying supply trains and chipping away at Cyre in border skirmish after border skirmish. We killed most of them, took back the land that they'd stolen, and pushed back into Thranish territory. We forced the survivors to watch as we profaned a Church of the Silver Flame and set loose all manner of demons and devils on the surrounding countryside. They watched as defenseless townfolk were slaughtered, eviscerated by the score, futilely clutching their silver icons. We forced their faces into the filth and horror until they could see neither purity nor justice, until they lost their faith completely and cried to the Fury for deliverance. Then we threw them to the dretch.

I tell you this so that you are aware of whom you trifle with. We took no pride in our work - we did what was necessary. But we will not hesitate to revisit the atrocity of war with you piddlets. And it won't end with you - after we make it through this (and trust me, it'll be child's play), we'll hunt down every family member, every friend, every whore you've ever loved and make life a whole lot more nasty, brutish, and short for them. There is a price for opposing us and we will exact it, pound by sanguine pound.

So, will you take the proffered olive branch, or will you take up the sword?"

[Rofltrollcopter]

Enthrall has a one round casting time.

I couldn't find rules for bullrushing a creature into another creature, so I just ruled that it was reflex save to avoid falling prone.

Fennel is prone.



Seeing Fennel attempt to cast a spell, the warforged's leader roars "TAKE HIM DOWN" One of the kobolds skitters past K'hnut, nimbly jumping over his flail and attempts to stab Fennel. He fails to find any opening in his thick armor. The nearly incinerated warforged drops his weapon and rushs Fennel. Fennel is unable to defend himself, due to being distracted by his spellcasting. The warforged bull rushes Fennel, pushing the armored changeling into Phyrie. Phyrie scrambles to her feet, but Fennel falls sprawling to the ground.

The warforged leader ignores Free Bird when he attempts to strike him. "Foolish flesh lover. In the name of the Lord of Blades, you will meet the same fate." He steps around Free Bird and the invisible Traxian, moving confidently towards Goldfeather. Traxian lashes out with his rapier, but is unable to hit him. Free Bird lands a blow, with his morning star, but it fails to inflict much damage on the warforged's adamantine armor. The warforged stands next to Goldfeather, and uses another manouver. Goldfeather is caught off-guard by the swiftness of the blow. Goldfeather is brought to the verge of death.

Seeing the damage wrought by Phyrie, the kobold shoots his crossbow at her again, landing a glancing blow. One of the warforged rushes Phyrie, Phyrie managed to dodge backwards agianst the wall of the Inn and avoid the worst of it. The last warforged casually strolls up and cuts down the barkeeper. The last kobold attempts to gut one of the patrons, but she manages to scramble out of the way.

At this point Lady Elaydren hesitates, then claps her hands together and shoves one of them into the chest of the warforged by Phyrie. The warforged bellows as the metal around its chest rusts and disintegrates. She scrambles backwards, away from the warforged. "If we don't focus down the same target, we will all die."

[Arkady]

Wiping blood from her lip, Goldfeather glares at the warforged in front of her. "Bad idea, ironworks." Stepping back, she focuses her psionic energies, letting loose a blast of energy at the mind of the warforged leader in front of her. The psicrystal on her staff flares brightly for a moment.

Mind Thrust (DC 16 Will save to negate damage)
Damage: [roll0]
4pp cost, using overchannel for the 4th pp. Expended psionic focus in psicrystal to avoid overchannel damage.

[Rofltrollcopter]

The warforged collapses and falls to the ground, disabled until it can be repaired.

[WyvernBlade]

Stepping five feet to the side K'hnut moves around the kobold before attempting to trip the dog like creature.


Trip attempt against the Kobold
Touch attack:
Strength Check: [roll1]
Attack Roll if trip successful: [roll2]
Damage roll if attack successful: [roll3] Edit: oops d20 instead of d6, new roll [roll]1d6+2

Also I heal gold feather for 2 if the trip succeeds and I will heal him again if the attack is good.

[NightAngel16]

The air back in his lungs, the shadows part to reveal Traxian once again, seemingly out of thin air. Without pause or consideration, born from years of disciplined swordsmanship, he moves to take the injured warforge out of the fight with a couple quick and decisive strikes.
This attack is directed at the almost dead warforge if it wasn't clear.
Attack roll 1: [roll0]
Dmg if it hits: [roll1]
Attack roll 2: [roll2]
Dmg if it hits: [roll3]


Also, Traxian has the fire riposte as a maneuver up (he should've had it up from the start but I gueess I didn't explicitly state it). If someone lands a melee attack on him he can choose to counter attack as an immediate action.
Edit: Almost forgot, swift action activate child of shadow stance (ie concealment as long as I moved)

[Rofltrollcopter]

K'hnut hits and the kobold is now prone, Traxian misses

[hexavi42]

Flat on his back for the first time in a long time, Fennel stared at the ceiling and wondered why he ever decided to stick with fullplate armor even after the ruse. The others had gotten used to it by now, and would probably look askance at him if he changed but, damn, was it inconvenient sometimes. Glorified Devourer-cursed tin can...

Fennel quickly rolled under the table, tipping over a chair or two as he did, past the empty-handed warforged who'd knocked him down to begin with. From underneath the table comes an unintelligible mumbling, eventually stopping to no effect. Or, at least, no visible effect.

A patch of invisible ice slick has formed on a portion of the bar's floor.

An ice slick spell covers a solid surface with a layer of slippery ice.
Any creature entering the area or caught in it when the spell is cast must make a successful Balance check or slip, skid, and fall.
Those that succeed on the skill check can move at half speed across the surface, or can skate or glide normally.
However, those that remain in the area must each make a new skill check every round to avoid falling and be able to move.
The DM should adjust skill checks by circumstance.
For example, a creature charging down a hill that is suddenly iced has little chance to avoid the effect, but its ability to exit the affected area is almost assured (whether it wants to or not).

[ErminaPix]

Phyrie ignores the pain as she scrambles to her feet and takes a five foot step away from the enemies. She raises her left hand and a spark appears. She raises her right hand and a small flame appears. She brings them together to the center of her chest and pushes outward with a roar of fury. Flames burst forth in a 15 ft cone

Burning hands dc 15 reflex save for half
Damage
[roll1]

[Rofltrollcopter]

The warforged caught by Fennel's ice spell slips and falls prone to the ground.

[Rofltrollcopter]

NEXT ROUND:

The tripped warforged attempts to stand up, provoking an attack from Traxian which brings him down for good. The kobold attempts to stand up, allowing Kh'nut to bring him down. Unfortunately, Phyrie's spell also hit the wooden bar and walls of the the inn, causing them to be set on fire. Some of the assorted bottles behind the bar become heated and explode, causing shrapnel to fly through the air. The remaining kobolds seeing their companions dead, all flee from the inn. The inn's surviving patrons all take the opportunity to flee as well. Only the party and Elaydren are left.

COMBAT IS OVER: But the inn is on fire. What do you do?

[The Big Orc]

"Alright everyone, we have about 3 minutes to save this building. We need to get a bucket brigade going. Are any mages here able to summon large amounts of water?"

[ErminaPix]

Phyrie comes down from her fiery high only to realize that her excitement has gotten the better of her. "Not again!" She looks around for anything that can help put out the fire.

[Rofltrollcopter]

Nothing in the immediate area looks like it would be of use. There may be some casks of beer in the storage room or outside that could be of use. Elaydren yells "lets get out of here!" The party faces the choice of fleeing or trying to put out the fire.

[hexavi42]

Fennel steps out from under the table to survey the damage. He smiles wryly and shakes his head.

"Flame's sake, Phyrie, I leave you alone for one second and this is what happens?"

With a muttered word and an almost imperceptible flick, the blaze mysteriously sizzles to a stop - no steam or smoke exudes from the fire-blackened portions of the tavern. The air feels a hell of a lot damper though.

Spell is Invisible Create Water - I reason that, if the water's invisible, the vapour from it will also be.

[Rofltrollcopter]

Fennel's spell puts out most of the fire. There are a few smoldering embers left, but the party has much more time to deal with them.

Elaydren addresses the party. "I trust you can take care of everything else here? Try not to get involved with the guards or you could lose precious time. Get out of Sharn as quickly as you can, more assassins could show up at any moment!" With that, Elaydren picks up a sword from one of the fallen warforged and turns to leave the inn.

[WyvernBlade]

K'hnut sees the flames and decides to take action, he whips out two water skins. Stuffing one under each armpit and holding their necks to aim. He pops their caps with his thumbs and sprays water at the still burning parts of the building.

BIENVENIDOS A LA FIESTA, AMIGOS!
http://www.bl2skills.com/gunzerkerPortrait.png

[Rofltrollcopter]

Thanks to the gnome's efforts, the fire has been put out. Elaydren has vanished into the rain.

Looking through the backpack left for them, the party finds:
-80 Arrows
-80 Bolts
-50 ft silken rope
-6 bedrolls
-6 waterskins
-18 days trail rations
-1 everbright lantern
-1 flint and steel
-1 healer’s kit
-5 torches
-3 sacks
-3 vials of holy water
-3 potions of cure light wounds
-Tiny blue rod of blue metal, 3 inches in length, with a sapphire embedded at one end
-600pp
-A letter of credit valid for transport from House Orien and/or House Lyrandar

the cloth of the backpack tingles with a faint magical effect and the backpack has some extra-dimensional storage space, although its exact nature is unknown.

(If anyone wants to ask Elaydren some questions right before she runs out, they can)

[NightAngel16]

Seeing that matters have been adequately taken care of, Traxian pulls up one of the less damaged bar stools and casually cleans the flecks of blood off of his shades. "So, do we take the fair lady's advice at making a hasty departure, or do we want to spend a couple days to better prepare ourselves for the arduous road ahead?"
If people are asking Elaydren any parting questions, just assume this happens after she's gone.

[The Big Orc]

Taking hold of the small rod, Free Bird attempts to determine what it does. After that, he does the same with the bag.

So for the rod: Artificer knowledge [roll0] (if greater than 15 I know if it has a magical aura or not)
If that succeeds and it is magical: Spellcraft to determine what it actually does [roll1] not sure what the exact DC for this one is, probably 20+spell level
I don't need to roll Artificer knowledge for the bag since we can see it is magical
Spellcraft for the bag [roll2] DC 20+ spell level

He also claims his share of the pp.

[Rofltrollcopter]

Free Bird is unable to determine what the bag is. He does not detect a magic aura on the rod.

[ErminaPix]

Phyrie sends a look of gratitude to fennel and K'Nuut for dealing with her mess. She her share of pp and takes the flint and steel, then tries to determine what the magical items are (if she can)
Arcana check rod [roll0]
Arcana check bag [roll1]
Spellcraft check rod [roll2]
Spellcraft check bag [roll3]

[Rofltrollcopter]

Phyrie gets the same results as Free Bird. Phyrie's best guess about the bag is that is some variant of a bag of holding.

[Arkady]

"I for one would like to take some time to patch up first, but I think we should get a move on as soon as possible. Obviously someone didn't want this meeting to go well, and they know we are here. I still have a few things I want to get taken care of, then we can head out."

Before leaving, Goldfeather will check over the fallen attackers for any identification (and loot, of course...). After that she will find a shop that sells healing potions and grab a few of those. Then she will rejoin the group. (I will be good to go right away, but if people still want to do something here, go for it)

[ErminaPix]

Phyrie takes a second to sit in a corner and seriously consider the ramifications of her actions. While healing herself, she recalls the teachings of her late foster father. He always had a way of helping her control her temper so she didn't set buildings on fire. "I'm better than this..." She sets out to find a store that sells magic items. If she can find one that sells a tree feather token, she'll purchase one. "This cannot replace all that I have burned down, but it's a step in the right direction." She'll pocket the feather for safe keeping, and return to the party.

Healing belt 1 charge
[roll0]

[Rofltrollcopter]

In the time it takes the party to loot the bodies, Elaydren is long gone.

On the bodies, Goldfeather finds:
1 masterwork longsword
1 greataxe
1 spear
2 short swords.
2 sets of leather armor sized for a small creature, but these are badly damaged.
80 gp

Goldfeather finds no means of identification on the bodies of the attackers.

Goldfeather and Phyrie are able to purchase items without incident.


OOC:
(as a point of note, right now it is up to you guys to advance the story, we will not be prompting you

Some of your options are:
Investigate booking passage with House Orien (lightning rail) or House Lyrandar (sea ships and air ships)
Buying Items
Gather Information checks to find out more things)

[WyvernBlade]

Before looting the bodies, K'hnut calls after the Lady. "Hey who where these blokes, and what do they have against you finding that workshop? Furthermore where can we find you if we need you?"

[Rofltrollcopter]

I do not know what specific grudge they have agianst our cause. House Cannith is more wealthy then many countries you could you name. Wealth always attracts enemies. As I already mentioned, you can contact me once the mission is complete by delivering that letter to a House Sivis message station.

[ErminaPix]

Phyrie shifts her weight back and forth nervously as the party decides how to proceed. She's not too fond of ships of any kind. she'll request they take the lightning rail option

[WyvernBlade]

"So are we going to stick around for awhile or are we heading out right away? I see this as a win win situation, we stay we can become better prepared and we get the bonus of having a higher chance to run into some more walking talking practice dumbies. On the other hand if we skip town we can take a ride on lightning rail or a ship..." Trailing off K'hnut looks like an idea just struck him. "By Dol Arrah's hair we could have both!" Excited by this new idea K'hnut continues, "So we stay in the city, bash any one who asks for some bashing, then we go on one of them zippy machines!" Noticing the rest of the party he simmers down a bit, "Erhm, or what do the rest of you think?"

So I would be fine staying in the city to gather more info and supplies, like Mike's cloak. But if you want to leave right away then I am fine with that aswell.

[Rofltrollcopter]

After a few brief inquiries at the Lightning rail station, the party discovers that the Lightning rail would have to go from Sharn to Starilaskur, from there visiting New Cyre would be a brief detour. Afterwards, the party would have to get back on the lighting rail and travel to the Brelish fortress of Sterngate. House Orien does not operate any lightning rail routes into Darguun, so the party would have to get off and travel with a caravan to Rhukaan Draal.

(OOC: check roll20 for a map of the route! On that note, nothing is going to happen until someone definitively says 'we do this'. It may be necessary for one of you to just take charge and advance the plot. Also, don't forget your gather information checks and whatnot, knowledge is power.)

[Arkady]

"Very well, we shall take the lightning rail to Starilaskur, and from there take the road to New Cyre. After we have gathered some information there, we can continue on the road to Sterngate and from there to Rhukaan Draal. Let us stay the night here, and move out in the morning."

OOC: Plan put forth, I assume we follow it unless someone objects in the near future.

[The Big Orc]

"I recommend learning more about our destination before rushing out into the wild. Perhaps we could learn more about Rose Quarry and the dangers we may face their. Also, Traxian was asking me about a cloak that he wanted me to make for him, perhaps we should stick around for a few days to plan our journeys."

OOC: plan put forth, I need to know how much xp I have to work with, I may be able to craft multiple items if there is anything else we decide we need after doing Traxian's cloak
Edit: that being said, the more I craft, the more time I need

[Arkady]

"Perhaps the cloak could wait for when we get to New Cyre? I believe our best sources of information can be found there. Plus, I do not believe we should stay in this place, what with the recent 'events' and all."

OOC: Counter plan put forth, suggestions?

[Rofltrollcopter]

The party leaves the inn and makes its way to a section of the city unofficially known as the 'Cyrean quarter'. Despite the gloom of the rainy afternoon, it is hard not to be awed by the city's architecture. Sharn is built within a manifest zone linked to the plane of Syrania, the Azure Sky. Manifest zones are certain locations on the world of Eberron that share a particularly close connection with one of the thirteen planes that orbit Eberron within the astral sea. This particular manifest zone enhances magic that creates flight and levitation. This allows Sharn to have towering, gravity defying spires that reach out as if to pluck the invisible Sun from beneath the clouds, in revenge for the indignity of the stormy day. Most of Sharn's neighborhoods are vertically stratified. Typically the more important people in the city live in the upper parts of the city. The party descends to the lower levels of Dura, the largest quarter in Sharn, which the covers the great expanse of the western plateau overlooking the Dagger River. It is one of the poorest sections of the city.

The party makes its way to the Cyrean quarter. Most of the 2000 Cyrean refugees who came to Sharn settled in this area. The King's invitation cleared the way for them to settle in the city, but it did not guarantee them a place to live. It is a slum, filled with an air of desperation. Most of the population is away right now, laboring in The Cogs. The Cogs are the churning heart of the city, a great series of forges and foundries resting in chasms within the bedrock that Sharn was built upon. There are a few Cyrean's wandering about on errands, the elderly and young that are unable to find work and thus spend their time maintaining the households. Some of them greet the party as they pass by. Compared to the rest of the Cyrean refugees, the party is very wealthy. The magical equipment they obtained from the Cyrean army and the few gold coins that they have been able to earn through mercenary work easily make them the wealthiest of the Cyrean refugees living in the Cyrean quarter. There are a few wealthy Cyreans living in Sharn, but many of them have turned their backs on their countrymen, preferring the company of the Sharn elite on the Upper levels of the City.

Looking for information, the party wander inside one of the few bars in the Cyrean quarter. It bares a somewhat sardonic name: "The Cyrean Appreciation".

Inside, they find the bar almost completely deserted, save for a halfling called Kalen, a plump, stocky fellow with a shock of blond hair on his forehead. He and the party have met before in this very inn. He is not from Cyre, and no one around knows why he spends his free time in the Cyrean quarter. The only thing that people do know about him is that he is a traveller, and claims to have gone to every far end of Khorvaire. Of course, he insists on being bought a drink before giving up any exciting details. How good to see you all again on this fine day! He takes a moment to look over the parties battered state.Traxian friend, I think your leaking. You lot have gotten yourself into something serious haven't you. What seems to be the trouble?


I'm just adding in details for you guys, you have permanent residences in the Cyrean quarter.

It would be possible to gain access to a car on the lightning rail with a magical laboratory that would allow crafting on route.

So, unless anyone says otherwise I am assuming that for the next three days:
Free Bird will go off by himself to make the cloak (which will require a magical lab, which is not available in the Cyrean quarter)
The rest of the party will stay inside their homes in the Cyrean quarter, and not do anything else.

If you wish do other things with your time please say so, otherwise events will happen based on these assumptions. If you do not provide details with how you intend to spend your time, I will fill in those details, and then events will happen based on those assumed details. Thus you waive your right to get annoyed at me if unpleasant stuff happens to your characters.)

[NightAngel16]

Traxian notes a few of his less serious wounds that have yet to heal. "Ahhh yes, we ran into some rather unpleasant business. No cause for concern, I have gotten away with much worse. Besides, it's nothing a few drinks can't fix..." The half-elf begins counting out a few coins, "A round bartender!"
Just let me know how much the drinks are :P

[Rofltrollcopter]

The bartender takes 2 silver pieces from Traxian and serves out drinks. Kalen gasps "you got into a fight didn't you? what happened? Do you need help?" Traxian can tell that Kalen is not being deceptive, he genuinely wants to help the party.

[NightAngel16]

Taking Kalen's sincerity as fact Traxian simply says, "I feel divulging such details to you would not only place unnecessary risk on your person, but could also further jeopardize our party. So I hope you'll forgive me for not going into specifics..." He rubs his arm a bit and takes a swig of the drink before him.

[Rofltrollcopter]

Kalen shrugs "suit yourself then, if you run into trouble later on, don't say someone didn't try to help you"

OOC: I will update with the time skip tomorrow. If you intend to do anything besides what I said you would be doing in the ooc section, do so.

[NightAngel16]

Traxian wakes early in the morning. He feels that most of his aches and pains from the previous day have been alleviated with a good night's sleep. Stepping outside, he turns up his collar against the brisk morning air and starts to make his way towards the base of operations for House Medani. Intending to uncover answers and perhaps meet former allies... What better place to look for answers?
Anyone's free to tag along with me. I'm assuming that there is a base of operations for the Medani since we're kinda in one of the biggest cities in Breland.

[Arkady]

Goldfeather will join Traxian on his trip.

OOC: I have nothing else that I wish to do in this town. I will move with the group when we leave

[Rofltrollcopter]

After a couple of hours, Traxian makes his way to a large building in the Central Plateau, in the middle of Sharn. It is rather humbly decorated by the standards of the other Dragonmarked houses, although several guards are on duty and a sign proclaims the building as the Sharn headquarters of House Medani. Traxian shows them his dragonmark, and the party is allowed to pass through. Insider there is a rather bored receptionist engaged in a conversation with a half-elf. "-and tell them we just got word on the Korranberg case and that the Riedran ambassador wants to reschedule his appointment-" He stops when he notices the party entering, and greets Traxian with a vicious grin "Goggles! I heard that some smuggler got the drop on you and that you were buried six feet under. You've always found some way to disappoint me. I should tell everyone in the house that the prodigal son has finally returned! What can I do for you?" Traxian recognizes the half-elf as Tharivol d'Medani, a rather unpleasant fellow who is one of House Medani's many enforcers/detectives. Tharivol had a reputation for bringing back many more dead criminals then capturing them alive. He was never a friend of Traxian, and the war did not improve matters.

[WyvernBlade]

K'hnut will try to find an answer to who was trying to kill his employer and him. He found it was good to know who wanted you dead and who didn't. K'hnut will ask around the Cyrean district and any other places he thinks could yield results. He will also ask about New Cyre. Mostly just general things, like what kind of place it is, if it is safe for them to go there.

[Rofltrollcopter]

K'hnut finds out that New Cyre is located in Eastern Breland. Most of the Cyreans in Sharn came there to look for work, and from what they've heard New Cyre is a desolate place, a mix between a refugee camp and a permanent home. With a population of more than four thousand and growing, New Cyre has become a beacon for displaced Cyreans around the world. The Brelish army keeps the countryside safe and the roads clear, so travelling to New Cyre is no more dangerous then travelling to any-other place in the Four Kingdoms. In theory, Prince Oargev ir'Wynarn, the only surviving member of the Cyrean Royal family, is supposed to be the mayor of New Cyre, but the Brelish government exerts a lot of influence. Openly, Oargev has praised the kindness of Breland and promises to be a good guest.

K'hnut recalls that the attackers had claimed to be working on behalf of someone called the Lord of Blades. He learns that the Lord of Blades is an enigmatic figure who dwells within the Mournlands. He leads a band of Warforged who seek to destroy or enslave all races made of flesh. No ones who or what he is, save that he appeared in the Mournlands after the Day of Mourning. The only thing that is certain of him is his hatred for mankind and his charismatic ability to draw other warforged to his cause, forming a psuedo-religion known in as the Lord of Blades, the fact that it is named after himself is not a coincidence. His followers are fanatics, willing to sacrifice themselves for his cause, and they have a potent hatred of Artificers.

[NightAngel16]

I really do not have time to deal with this fool. Removing his hat, Traxian curtly responds to Tharivol, "You will excuse me if I wish to forgo the usual pleasantries Tharivol. This visit will be BRIEF at the very most. To cut to the thick of it, I and the rest of my compatriots are undertaking a rather sensitive investigation. It is imperative we gather the information we need quickly so I would like to speak with any available House operatives with experience in the Mournlands and the nearby territory of Darguun."

[Rofltrollcopter]

My! What a coincidence! I myself have recently finished a mission in Darguun. Truely the Sovereigns work in mysterious ways. Tell me, what interest would you have in the region? and why have you come to us for help? I heard you walked out on us, all of those wild accusations of "conspiracies" and whatever other nonsense. Why should I bother to help you? What does House Medani have to gain?

[NightAngel16]

WONNDERFULL Traxian massages his temples for a moment, then in an icier tone, "FINE. But I would prefer more privacy if we are to discuss such matters. Away from would-be spies." He gestures in the direction in which he knows the interrogation chambers are located.
Since Traxian knows the layout of the place, I'm just gonna assume the interrogation rooms are the most "private" rooms.

[Rofltrollcopter]

Tharivol chuckles "My, always the paranoid one Goggles. After you" he leads Traxian away to the official holding cells, passing by a multitude of different imprisoned beings. Officially, House Medani does not have the right to imprison people, but they often hold prisoners until a nation's law enforcement picks them up. He enters a cell and locks it behind him, leaving the two of them alone. "This should be entertaining, what is it that you want?"

As a general note, Traxian does not know the layout of this place beyond the public areas. He would have been familiar with the House Medani detachments in Cyre. Since Traxian has been to Sharn, he has not been doing any official work for the Sharn division of House Medani.

[NightAngel16]

The half elf crosses his arms, "Concerning Darguun, any general information you have on the city of Rhukaan Draal notable gangs, informants, etc. To be more specific I am looking for any info on a quaint little place called Rose Quarry. Anything that we can learn in advance will help aid in our intended expedition into the Mournlands. I know the House is always looking for more out-of-the-way tidbits of information, so I'll be willing to divulge of any notable points of interest I find there. In any case, it's a win-win for you. You take credit for any valuable secrets I find in the Mournlands, or I die there and you never hear from me again." Traxian absent-mindedly checks the hilt of one of his rapiers. "I'll let you be the judge of which is more likely."

[Rofltrollcopter]

Tharivol chuckles a bit and sits down in the interrogator's chairYou are really out of your element, aren't you? Alright, here's what you can get out of any tour guide. Darguun is about as different from the Four Kingdoms as you can get on Khorvaire, except for maybe Droam. They never followed the Code of Galifar, the common set of laws that each of the legal systems in the Four Kingdoms are based upon. They practice slavery and openly worship the Dark Six. They are not terribly fond of Breland, considering that Breland tried to invade them during the war. It was one of Breland's greatest military failures, with the death of King Boranel's son and the destruction of one of Breland's floating fortresses. How is your Goblin Goggles? Very few beings there speak Common, and trust me when I say you do not want to hire a local translator. As for Rose Quarry, I've never heard of the place.

He folds his hand and looks over them at Traxian You never did answer my question. What interest do you have in the region? We are not like the vultures in the House of Shadows. A few vague promises of information is hardly enticing enough for House Medani to go out of our way to aid you, although the thought of you dying in some desolate hole does sweeten the deal. Hmmm Tharivol speculates out loud." You are far too self-righteous to go to the Mournlands simply to loot the place. What are you after?"

[NightAngel16]

Traxian begins to pace, "The truth Tharivol, always the truth... There are rumours of a facility hidden away in the Mournlands that remained untouched by the catastrophic event that took place. If such a place exists, well... Forgive me, but if all you and the House of Medani can offer is a commoner's guide to the sights and sounds of Darguun, then my time here is wasted."

[Rofltrollcopter]

The Truth? Thats why you abandoned your family? Alright then, you have my attention. Forgive me if I do not reveal the full extant of our House's operations in the region. To be honest, we do not have many resources in the country. Darguun has only recently opened its borders and permitted House Orien to build a trade road into the nation. That being said, after the war House Medani was given a contract by the governments of Breland and Thrane to patrol the Eastern borders of the Mournlands. We may be able to help you, but first I would like some details, what facility and who are you working for?

[NightAngel16]

"Who we work for is none of your concern. But someone with your mental caliber should be able to deduce that information based on what I tell you now. Hypothetically, the House of Making may have possessed a hidden facility called Blackhearth located somewhere in the Mournlands. Now I do not think I have to tell you that the secrecy of such information is paramount..." Traxian stops with his back turned to the other investigator seemingly lost in his thoughts, "Tight lips Tharivol."

[petagee]

“Tight lips indeed Traxian. Silent as a tomb.” With a sly smile, Tharivol holds his index finger up to his lips. “I think that we understand one another. It is certainly unsurprising that you would not only abandon your mother house, but then go and work for another. As for the Mournlands, it is a death sentence to go into there. We’ve sent a few of our agents in there over the years, but with limited success... and frequent death.

"Understandably we’ve not returned in a while and keep our men in the realm of the living, only patrolling the border. The place is a maze of fog and death. Even if the place you are looking for exists, I doubt you’ll find it unless you can find someone who knows their way around. I’ve heard of guides in the border towns, but they are few and far between, and unreliable at best... Or con artists, thieves and murderers at worst. What kind of help are you looking for from us? And more importantly: what are you willing to give us for it?”

[ErminaPix]

Phyrie will take the few days allotted her and volunteer in the community. She'll play rotisserie chef for a soup kitchen, help run situations for the local fire department, and browse the markets for anything that can help easily put out a fire. She's rather tired of the kiosk tenders offering her a canteen filled with water. When she is one on one with people, she'll inquire about voyages into the Mournlands.
Gather information
[roll0]

[NightAngel16]

Traxian leans up against the wall with a mild look of resignation, "Trust is a rather rare commodity during these times Tharivol, but that's not to say I trust you. Rather, I am choosing the lesser of two evils. As it stands, a guide that knows the region would not go remiss when our party searches the city of Rhukaan Draal for additional clues as to the whereabouts of this Rose Quarry and our final destination of Blackhearth. Also, a short briefing with any House Medani border patrols would be greatly appreciated before heading into the Mournlands. Now, I am sure the House can find a use in knowing the location of Blackhearth, what that is, I do not care to know. However, let's be clear I hold no allegiance to any house, Medani or otherwise, but you know my word to be good enough, if I do survive, to come report back to House Medani in accordance to any deal we strike here."

[Rofltrollcopter]

Tharivol grins a wide, predatory smile from ear to ear. I see... Tell me, which House Cannith are you working for, hmm? I suspect you have already got yourself in over your head.

[NightAngel16]

"YES, that much is clear Tharivol. I can tell you these cuts and scrapes didn't come from a trip down the staircase this morning. Too many unknowns, too many variables, no time, no preparation!" The half elf's fist clenches for a second and he finishes with his voice dripping in venom, "I am rarely so behind in the proceedings..."

[petagee]

Around the market, Phyrie hears of many simple items that produce water to help combat fire. Gourds that never run dry and buckets that after a few seconds will refill and can toss more water onto a fire. Though, the most robust solution come from a Potions and Oils vendor who speaks of a fluid, held in a glass bottle, that when poured over or thrown into a fire will snuff it out in an instant. “Only 300GP each. Will put out any fire, big or small. For my solution is powerful, and of fine make. For such a bargain, how can you refuse?”

~~~

Phyrie helps around the Cyrean quarter of Sharn, trying to relieve the strain upon the slums of this area. Most of the members of the area treat the Mournland with great mysticism and fear. Many just relay common tales of fearsome creatures and horrors hidden in the fog. Some just refuse to speak of Old Cyre, and The Day of Mourning.Although, one man: an old, wizened, wrinkly half-elf looking for his evening soup; when asked about The Mournland takes upon a grave countenance. A moment of silence comes and goes. With a distant look in his eyes, he begins to speak,

“I ventured into the Mournland once. Folly, I know, but I had to look for my wife and children. We lost each other during The Day of Mourning, and I had to find them, for closure if nothing else. Despite my appearance, I am still a young man, once with looks to match. That was before I traveled into The Mournland. I went with a treasure hunting group, and accompanied them under that guise. I spent less than a day in the Mournland before we were attacked. I never saw what struck us, but it came during the first night. The man keeping watch was taken first, screaming in agony before the sounds of tearing flesh and cracked bones filled the thick, desolate air. The entire group fled, split in all directions. I heard each man’s screams ring out, one by one as the creature hunted them down. I was the only one left alive, and I knew I would not be long for this world. Lo, the creature found me. It was some kind of spectre, a wispy shape with no form, that flowed with the fog itself. I ran but it caught me and pinned me to the ground. Then the creature began to drain from me my very life. I could feel all my youth, and all the years to come slowly being sucked away. I screamed not only in pain, but in sadness and fear at all that was being taken away from me. I could feel my body shriveling and wasting away. But before it could finish its foul deed, a great whooping sound came from afar; coarse and bestial. At once, the creature fled into the fog and left me within an inch of my life. Using my spear as a cane, I limped from that foul place. By some miracle, neither that creature nor any other abomination hunted me down before I made it away. I learned the hard way that what was once Cyre is now cursed, an earthly hell that no living man should ever travel in. All you shall find there is death and loss and pain and fear and...” As he bumbles out his last sentence, tears come to the old man’s eyes. He rushes away, spilling his soup on the ground as he flees out the door.

[Rofltrollcopter]

You always had a knack for choosing the losing side Goggles. Still, I am quite curious. Did the person who hired claimed to be representing all of House Cannith?

[NightAngel16]

"I will let you know this. Our contact did not exactly dress in a manner befitting of a house noble. What do you know Tharivol?... You seem to imply that there is a schism within the House of Making."

[Rofltrollcopter]

Ah.. now that is an interesting story. Like you, House Cannith choose the wrong side in the war. Sure, they sold weapons to all sides and became outrageously wealthy out of the whole ordeal, but they always had a soft spot for Cyre. All of House Cannith's leaders died on the Day of Mourning, and there wasn't a clear line of succession. The family has been divided into three faction, each under the control of a different Cannith scion. Granted, they've tried to keep this schism a private matter, but its one of the worst kept secrets in Khorvaire. These three factions are known as Cannith North, based in Karnath. Creepy bastards, we do not know much except that a lot of them have converted to the Blood of Vol, apparently they are trying to make creations combining machines and flesh. Cannith West, based in Aundair. Apparently they are on good terms with the Wardens of the Wood in the Eldeen Reaches, and are spending a substantial amount of effort poking around in old ruins in the region. Cannith South, based in Sharn. They have little interest in this house feud business, and would rather be spending time doing things in the name of science.


Now then, Goggles I knew you were thick, but this is sad, even by your standards. I just talked you into revealing your mission and who your working for. Textbook interrogation technique right there.

He smirks

"Give me a good reason why I shouldn't run to House Cannith and tell them how eagerly their mercenary spilled his employers secrets. Maybe I should tell them how unreliable you are, and that they should hire House Medani to do this task for them instead, hmm?"

[NightAngel16]

Traxian gives a dark chuckle. "Always quick to assume Tharivol. My companions and I already have pursuers, making you far from the first to know of the events which have transpired. Based on what you have said, I seriously doubt you or the House had anything to do with the attack. Furthermore, we were attacked in a public tavern by a large ambush party and I am sure a Medani interrogator would make much easier fodder for them. In imparting my secrets to you I have placed a mark on your person, perhaps the entire House of Medani should you choose to inform the patriarchs. I know very little of our enemies, but one thing is certain. They cut OFF loose-ends." He returns Tharivol's smirk, "No witnesses." He levels one of his rapiers towards Tharivol to emphasize his point.

[Rofltrollcopter]

Tharivol's smirk fades and his jaw drops. He clearly thinks that Traxian is a complete moron. Are you even listening to the words coming out of your mouth? We are a DRAGONMARKED HOUSE. The foundation that all of Khorvaire is built upon. You and the rest of the Cyrean trash are nothing compared to us.

No... Thorival says softly. Getting House Cannith to fire you would be far too easy. Lets make this a little more... sporting. House Medani will contact one of the other factions and inform them that one of their rivals wishes to gain access to this 'BlackHearth' facility in the Mournlands. We will then offer to get there first, and deliver the contents of said facility. He smirks. "So the place of interest in Darguun was Rose Quarry, right? It looks like we have a race! To make things more fair, I will give you a three days head start."

[NightAngel16]

Ahh to play the fool. Your sense of ego has not failed me Thorival Traxian turns to Thorival, looking oddly jovial considering everything that has transpired, "Excellent, the game is afoot!" He sees himself out, flipping his hat back onto his head in a flourish, and quickly makes his way back to his companions. Briefly calling back over his shoulder, "May the best man win..."

With the House Medani and Thorival added to the roster of players vying for Blackhearth, the attention of our pursuers should be diverted or at the very least, their forces will be split. If our enemies are so fervent to keep people away from Blackhearth, the participation of the House Medani should not be taken lightly. Of course this is all largely based on a good number of assumptions, and my gamble could backfire if Thorival actually has more than half a wit about him. Although, bonus points if he meets an unfortunate end in the Mournlands.

The half-elf stops by the secretary on his way out, and with a quick wink says, "Give my warmest regards to Yllona next time you should see her." To the rest of the party, "Our business is concluded here. Lunch anyone?" He continues walking while leading the others outside.

Meh I don't even know why I'm posting this late... Have some music!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5DPxO2hcaYE

[hexavi42]

Fennel seeks out any high-stakes, low-effort gambling arenas in the city (ex. horse-racing, griffon-racing, underground fighting) and prepares to make a killing in profits, casting Augury in private before he makes his bets. Any schmuck stupid enough to play games of chance when gods and magic abounded deserved to be lightened of his load, in Fennel's humble opinion.

He makes sure to wear a different face and street clothes, and never to win too much or too often in one sitting. If he feels at risk of being discovered, he'll just quickly duck behind a structural member, drop a few items of conspicuous clothing, and change faces. Any attempts to detain him will result in use of the Freedom of Movement Travel domain ability. Any escapades that require Ice Slick or No Light are perfectly fine.

He never goes all in, starts small and then only bets from winnings.

[ErminaPix]

Phyrie regards the seller of the instant fire-stopper oils earnestly. "My, I could use some of those, but I only have 500GP. Is there a chance you could give me a discount if I buy 2? Otherwise, I'll just take one please."

Not sure which applies, so I've rolled both...
Bluff Check:
[roll0]
Diplomacy Check:
[roll1]

Phyrie is quite rattled from the new old man's story. When she returns to the group, she'll relay the story of the youth-draining creatures that attack those that enter the Mournlands. "Do we have any sort of way of protecting ourselves from such terrifying beasts? If the formless nasties aren't the scariest things out there, do we have a survival plan? Perhaps mimicking the rage beast's call if we encounter the formless life suckers?"

[Rofltrollcopter]

The vendor gives Phyrie a blank stare, “Price is final. Take it or leave it.” Phyrie is able to purchase one flask for 300GP.

[Rofltrollcopter]

With their new found information and items completed, the party heads off to Sharn’s lightning rail station near the edge of the city. The party sees a long path of conductor stones lead off into the countryside.They see the train approach from the distance. Lightning crackles as it jumps conductor stones and the air elemental bound train cars.

http://blackmarches.wdfiles.com/local--files/project-alpha/lightning%20rail.jpg

The lightning rail station is a bustle of activity as numerous trains and their passengers run from platform to platform. Warforged bellboys carry luggage and crates, rushing from train to train to ensure their cargo is safely loaded before the trains zip off into the distance. The floor is decorated by a mosaic of a rearing unicorn, the symbol of House Orien. With their tickets purchased using the letter of credit, the party finds their platform in the thick of the bustle. A short man with a squarish hat and a sharp uniform, approaches the party as they near the train.

“Welcome travelers. I am the conductor for this train traveling along the Main Breland Line through Starilaskar with final destination at Korranberg. You may call me Tymon. May I see your ticket?” After a brief glance at the pass purchased, the conductor bows and then smiles at the party, “Ah, our noble guests from House Cannith. We are honored by your homage and your presence. Please, follow me.”

The party is led into the train and down through a few of the cars. There are some cars in steerage class where up to 200 people are crammed into the cars. They pass by them and see a dining car, a lounge car, a few of the economy passenger cars; all the way up near the front of the train itself. Reaching a far more upscale passenger car, the conductor turns to the party, and gestures to a series of small rooms. “These will be your accommodations until we reach your destination at Starilaskur. For the safety and comfort of all passengers, House Orien requests all weapons remain in passengers private quarters. Have a pleasant trip and do not hesitate to approach myself or any of the other employees on the train if you have any concerns or questions during your time with us.” He smiles again and hustles back in the direction he came.

With their belongings settled in each of the rooms, an announcement comes over speakers in their car: “This is the final call for boarding. All passengers, please prepare for departure.” After a minute of relative quiet, the party hears a low humming that begins to build into a near deafening roar. The party feels the car rise into the air slowly, and another announcement comes over: “All passengers and crew, brace for departure (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7mnPPOgf000).” After ten seconds, the roaring of the train reaches a climax, then the car lurches forward at tremendous speed, sending the party stumbling back. After a few moments, the train settles to a constant speed and the party stands recovered.

~~~~

The next couple of days pass without incident. Most of the other train passengers keep to themselves, sequestered in their cabins, only leaving for meals where they prefer to eat at their own tables. The countryside swiftly passes by as the train hovers over the rails. The Brelish countryside is beautiful under the warm summer sun. The Last War never reached the Brelish heartland. The trees of the King’s Forest and The Bear’s Wood are smears of green and brown as the train zips past. The only features that are clear to see are The Howling Peaks out in the distance, and then the Seawall Mountains as the party nears Starilaskar.

A day or so out of Starilaskar, in the dead of the night as the party slumbers peacefully, the train drops from its hovering position. Like nails on a chalkboard, the undercarriage of the train grinds against the rails and comes to a jarring stop. Over the speaking stones the party hears Tymon’s voice: “Attention all passengers. The train has made an emergency stop at this time. We apologize for the inconvenience and the delay. We suggest that you remain in your cabins at this time, and please refrain from leaving the train. We will be continuing towards Starilaskur promptly. Thank you for your patience and understanding.” From the slight trembling in his voice, the party can tell that something is wrong. Roused from their sleep, the party sees out their cabin window that there is some large obstruction on the tracks, though the dark of night obscures what exactly is blocking the way.

[ErminaPix]

Phyrie ominously places her hand against the chilled window. Spreading her fingers, she squints to see through the darkness. Failing that, she turns to the party and says 'we should go to the roof and get a better vantage point. We're sitting kobolds right now.'

[NightAngel16]

We don't have time for this and I wouldn't put it beyond Tharivol to tamper with the rails. Traxian is already gearing up as Phyrie voices her concern. "My thoughts exactly Phyrie. We are on a tight schedule afterall and I need some fresh air. Join me up top if you feel inclined to do so." He pockets his shades, At least I won't be needing these.
Just curious if Traxian's light sensitive eyes do anything for how he sees in the dark, since half elves already have low-light vision...

[The Big Orc]

"Perhaps we should talk to the conductor to see if our aid is actually needed. But perhaps we should ignore the disarmament rule for now."

If no one objects, Free Bird will make his way to the conductors car and ask if help is needed.

[Rofltrollcopter]

Free bird moves three cars further up, to the conductor car. The car door is locked but Free Bird can hear hushed voices, “...but how did it get in front of the car!?!?” “Don’t ask me. Their kind haven’t been seen around these parts in... gods know how many years!” “Regardless, we need to figure out how to get past it” “Oh, and how do you propose that? Go out and ask it nicely?!??! Give it a little bump with the train? Let it know we mean business??? I don’t think you fully understand how out of our depth we are!!”

Phyrie and Traxian maneuver out of the window and onto the top of the train. They see off in the distance, a great bulk about the size of one of the cars lying on the tracks. It is too dark to make out any more details without approaching it.

[NightAngel16]

Traxian motions at Phyrie to move silently as they slowly traverse their way towards the front of the train. His muscles tense up as he prepares himself for any sudden movements. Steady heart, steady hands Trax.
Traxian will use his vanisher cloak to stealth Phyrie and himself if whatever is at the front of the train attempts to attack them at any time during their advance.

[Rofltrollcopter]

As they sneak closer, Phyrie and Traxian can slowly make out the bulk on the track. They slowly make a large, serrated tail, two leathery wings and a great reptilian head. The head rises on a long sinuous neck, and turns to stare straight at Traxian and Phyrie. The two of them stare back at the huge, green dragon.

[The Big Orc]

Slamming his fists against the door, Free Bird shouts, "Perhaps some help is needed. Open up."

[petagee]

The murmuring voices stop abruptly, and after a few moments of silence the door opens with Tymon’s face leaning out. A forced smile is plastered across his face, “Ah yes, one of our honored Cannith guest. There is truly no need to worry. Please return to your car. We have everything under control.” He begins to nod nervously, and starts to shut the door.

[Arkady]

Goldfeather will go with Traxian and Phyrie, taking her staff with her. Upon becoming aware of the situation, she will turn to the others. "Well, that is certainly an 'inconvenience'. I speak Draconic if that becomes necessary, or I could try a telepathic link, but perhaps we should observe for a while before doing anything rash."

[The Big Orc]

As the door starts to close, Free Bird puts himself in the way. "Stop lying. What has happened? Stop denying free help."

[Rofltrollcopter]

The dragon turns its gaze away from the party, ignoring them completely, it does not appear to be going anywhere anytime soon.

[petagee]

The door stops closing and Tymon looks up at Free Bird, his face strained with concern. He glances over his shoulder and then down the hall. He leans over to Free Bird and whispers, “It’s terribly unprofessional to inquire for help from passengers, particularly ones representing the great House of Cannith. But your party seems well armed, perhaps even veterans of the war. Your help could prove exceptionally valuable.” He looks up at Free Bird with frightened eyes, “But you won’t believe what’s in front of the train… It’s… well, it’s a Dragon!”

[The Big Orc]

Raising an eyebrow, Free Bird reassures Tymon, "We will not inform anyone of your need for aid. As for the dragon, we will see what we can do. If you have a sender here, I would recommend sending for aid on the chance that we cannot convince it to leave peacefully." Returning to his cabin, Free Bird shakes his head seeing that the others had already left. Arming himself fully, he joins the others outside of the train. "I'd suggest a peaceful solution to this confrontation. Any ideas?"

[WyvernBlade]

Finally managing to get his breastplate on K'hnut stumbles from his room and inquires what the disturbance was.

"A dragon! Are you sure it was not Traxian's snoring? Considering the situation he starts off to get a better view at the beast. "Do we know how old it is or why it has decided to perch its scaly tail on our rail? Hmmm can any one make out if it has a collar or a saddle or anything that would hint that it is controlled by some one?

K'hnut looks to see if he can see if there is any obvious reason that the dragon is there. He specifically checks for a collar, saddle, or reigns. He also checks for any source of food on the tracks. He will also attempt to determine what it is doing (like is it just sitting there enjoying the breeze?).

[Arkady]

"Well, we could try talking to it first of all. Last I checked, only Phyrie and I speak Draconic, though it might speak Common as well." Goldfeather gestures to Phyrie, and continues. "Between the two of us, you are a bit better with words and such. You want to give it a go?"

OOC: Laura has +3 Charisma, I have -1. Just sayin'

[Rofltrollcopter]

Tymon shrugs "We were just planning on waiting for it to move, not sure how long that would take."

~~~~~~

The party members move around the dragon, it pays them no heed and stares up at the stars. There is a half eaten cow carcass lying next to the track. It looks like the carcass has been there for at least a day. There is no hint of a collar or saddle.

Yes, it is of the huge size category (whether that implies it has certain stats or not, well that's up to you)

[NightAngel16]

It will probably be prudent to check if we have any surprises other than a dragon. Traxian concentrates for a moment, scanning his immediate surroundings as he feels the warmth of his dragonmark under his sleeve.
Using detect magic, if Traxian finds anything out of the ordinary other than the dragon and train/train tracks, he will continue concentrating to determine the strength of the magical effects. ie) He will concentrate for the full 3 rounds of detect magic.

[Rofltrollcopter]

Traxian scans the track, he detects no unusual auras, save for a divination aura on the dragon. Traxian has no training in spellcraft, and is unable to determine a specific spell

[Arkady]

"Oh bloody hell, I'll see what I can do." Goldfeather breaks off from the group, and slowly approaches the dragon until she is about 40 feet away. She clears her throat a bit, and then begins speaking in Draconic, trying her very best to be polite and all that. "Excuse me, your Eminence? If I may be so bold, may I ask what it is you look for among the stars? I ask because, in your current position, we are unable to pass you on the lightning rail upon which you rest." Goldfeather will clear her throat again, clearly nervous about the situation. Is it even listening to me? she thinks to herself. She tries to continue, "I hope I do not go to far, but if it would be possible, could you move off of the track, so that we may pass?" She trails off, looking at the dragon for some sort of sign that she is even being heard. She nervously kneads the staff in her hand, wait for a response.

Diplomacy roll, for whatever it adds: [roll0]

[Rofltrollcopter]

The dragon lowers its head and looks at Goldfeather with one lazy eye. It responds in draconic with a deep, rumbling voice like the depths of a vast marsh burbling to the surface. ::small thing, why do you bother me? Have you grown weary of your meager life?::

[ErminaPix]

Phyrie stops in her tracks when she sees the green dragon. 'we're in way above our heads here' she looks slightly to the left of the beast's head and addresses it cautiously. :: 'please forgive our intrusion, your magnificence, we mean no disrespect. truly, the livelihoods you've delayed are of little value when compared to your comfort. We ourselves are merely traveling to recover some priceless treasures from the mournlands. Not sure if you've been there yourself, but I hear it's quite dreary this time of year. Lots of despair, death, and dread to go around.' :: Phyrie looks around :: 'forgive me for asking, but what brings you to this neck of the tracks? surely the rails digging into your scales must irritate your powerful figure? Would not a treetop be a more suitable thrown for one such as yourself?' ::
Diplomacy
[roll0]

[Rofltrollcopter]

The dragons eyes open with a start and whirls its head to face Phyrie. The massive viridian orbs of its eye are scant inches from Phyrie's face. It responds with a loud roar. ::DAUGHTER OF HOUSE TARKANAN, YOU DARE APPROACH ME? YOU WHO BARE THE TWISTED MARK? MIXED WITH THE BLOOD OF MY KIN! YOU ARE AN ABOMINATION TWICE OVER::

[NightAngel16]

Interesting, I wonder how much weight the draconic prophecy bears with this dragon. Perhaps he will talk to one with a true mark?
[roll0]
Traxian wants to know if the dragon's attitude shifts b/w those who bear "normal" dragonmarks, compared to aberrant ones.

[Rofltrollcopter]

Traxian cannot guess how the dragon would react to a true mark based only on its reaction to an aberrant mark. Traxian can tell that it is agitated, and at best showing the dragon a true mark might make it indifferent.

Knowing how dragons in general react to normal dragonmarks would be a knowledge: arcana check.

[The Big Orc]

Bowing low, "Apologies oh great one, my friends here are impatient due to their limited time on this earth. They did not mean to offend a being as great and majestic as yourself. They desire to have their train moving to maximize their pathetic time on this mortal coil. Please ignore the insufferable fools. With strong scales such as your own I am sure you are as uncomfortable as I would be lying on the tracks, that is to say not at all. Is there anything your humble servants could do to sate your righteous anger against us?"

Translated via someone who speaks draconic (NOT Phyrie). Free Bird does not rise from his bow during the entire time he is speaking.

I would prefer that my diplomatic abilities be based on what I said, but incase you want a roll...
Diplomacy [roll0]

[Rofltrollcopter]

The dragon seems to be somewhat assuaged by Free Bird's appeal, and peers at him curiously ::You and your companions have yet to rouse my wrath Ironkin, pray that you do not.:: He peers at Free Bird curiously ::Your kind is.. unfamiliar to us. I wonder if your race will survive the flow of time. I have not come to this desolate continent for my own comfort. ::


Personally, I add a bonus or negative depending on the text/how well its done, but the die roll still counts

[The Big Orc]

Staying bowed, "Would you perchance share your mighty mission with those who are unworthy?"

[WyvernBlade]

I wonder why that carcass is have eaten, I mean this dragon probably could have eaten it whole. Was it dragged here or did it taste so bad the dragon gave up halfway? Maybe it was eaten by something else? Maybe the dragon was lured here and if so why? Hmm well it is drawing everyone's attention toward it. Maybe it is a distraction. Chuckling at himself as he rethinks that. Who would use a huge green dragon as just a distraction. Well it is working... I better go make sure.

Whispering to Goldfeather, so not to interupt the discussion with the dragon, "Eh Godfather, I am going to go check on the rest of the train would you give me that crystal on your stick so we can stay in contact or at least manifest some power to do the trick?"

After receiving some way to stay in contact with the rest of the party K'hnut gets to the roof of the train and walks along the length of the train looking at the surrounding, he also keeps a wary ear for any sounds coming from the train that should not be, whether that is screaming or the silence of those already silenced.

[ErminaPix]

Phyrie's heart goes cold. Her lungs freeze up, she breaks out into a cold sweat, and her nostrils flare. She icily glares at the rails, abruptly turns around, and stalks back up the train (muttering swear words in every language she knows). She produces flame and bounces the the orb back in forth before hurling it straight up into the sky in a firework-like-explosion. When another appears, she does the same to the left and right, hitting imaginary opponents. When the remnants of the flames appear in her hand for the last time, she clenches her fist and extinguishes them with a growl.
All of these years, I've been so careful. No one knew what I was, and I've earned a somewhat respectable reputation. Now some hotshot dragon airs my secret - MY SECRET - and suddenly all of my problems are aired for the whole party to see. And then there's the issue of my parents. Rotten scum that they are, I've never bothered to give them a second thought. I know who my real father was and he died years ago on that fateful day. That name - Tarkanan - I'm trying to remember if that rings a bell. Who is this dragon to bring up issues long dead? If I ever meet my parents, I'll kill them myself. Just for the trouble this reveal has brought upon me.

[Rofltrollcopter]

Knowledge: History check for House Tarkanan

Technically the dragon has been speaking in Draconic the entire time, so only the party members by Goldfeather would know what the dragon was saying (assuming that there isn't anyone else on the train that doesn't understand draconic)

K'hnut does not notice any unusual activity.

The dragon blatantly ignores Free Bird and glances at Goldfeather ::You should not be concerning yourself with such matters Mindwalker. You have other things to worry about. The Dreaming Dark is stirring:: It glares again at Phryie ::Know this abomination. Your kind were conceived by the Lords of Dust in their schemes to subvert the Prophecy. When the time comes for the Chamber to exterminate your kind, I will gladly carry out their sentence::

Without another word, the Dragon unfolds its great leathery wings and takes off into the night.

[Arkady]

Goldfeather's face hardens at the dragon's words. She stands silently for a few moments before turning and stalking back to the train. "Let's go", she says a tad bit harshly, "We need to get moving."

[NightAngel16]

Traxian breathes a sigh of relief, but also notices Phyrie's outburst. She seems rather agitated, more so than usual anyways... Traxian saunters over to the fire mage's side as the others are heading back into the train. "Look Phyrie, I know how much of a burden having one of these fancy marks," he pulls back his sleeve, "can be. It's a part of our past, present, and, perhaps, future, but don't let it define you. That's why I CHOSE to informally secede from house Medani, I don't let such things force me into a preset mold. We have more pressing issues to worry about than some remnants of an ancient prophecy. Despite what big, green, and scaly said, the party still stands by you."
The half-elf sheathes both of his rapiers and gestures with a free hand towards the train, "Let's head back in. We don't want to miss our stop." He puts his hands in his pockets and continues walking, expecting Phyrie to follow.

[WyvernBlade]

After making his rounds and meeting up with the party K'hnut notices a distinct lack of a big green lizard. "Well looks like the beast has flown off. So shall we get back on the train, we have wasted enough time here." As they are getting back on the train K'hnut asks, "So why was it there? It is not dumb, and I know it doesn't think too much of us 'lesser' races, but I am sure it would have noticed the rails. Was it just trying to cause trouble, or to show its power? Did any of you determine why it was here?"

[ErminaPix]

Phyrie attempts to get her temper under control and recall what the House of Tarkanan and the Lords of Dust are.

Knowledge History House of Tarkanan
[roll0]
Knowledge History Lords of Dust
[roll1]

If Goldfeather translates the dragon's words for the party, this conversation will happen. If not, Phyrie certainly won't explain her secret. The following conversation will occur out loud if Traxian knows her secret, otherwise she'll just say it in her head and thank him for his general concern...

When Traxian comes over and speaks to her, she feels both companionship and devastating isolation. "I appreciate your kind words old friend, but I don't think you realize what a burden one of these particular marks is. You come from a noble, respected house. You can leave its good graces, take whatever direction you want to go with your life and at the end of the day, you're still that rebel son that they'll accept as one of their own." Phyrie tosses a stone into the distance (skipping it across water if there is a lake or something nearby). "Earlier, I hear you had a confrontation with a past house member. Well, I can't even do that. Let's pretend for a moment that I knew which traitors fornicated and brought me into this world. If I ever so much as showed up on one of their doorsteps, they'd kill me before they jeopardized their public image. My kind, we were hunted. HUNTED. Like animals. I've been abandoned, tortured, and ridiculed for something I was born with. So although I appreciate your compassion, don't think you can understand what I'm going through to have these sorts of issues."

[Rofltrollcopter]

Phyrie knows that House Tarkanan was an old alliance of abberant dragonmarked. They fought the twelve houses in the War of the Mark, about 1500 years ago. Needless to say, they lost.

Phyrie does not know anything about the Lords of Dust.

It may be possible to get more information by talking to an expert on the subject matter.

[petagee]

Returning to the train, Tymon greets the party near the entrance into the first passenger car. His face is awestruck, his mouth gaping. “How did you… I mean it just… Why did it leave? Did you find out why it was there in the first place?”

[The Big Orc]

"It was resting. I doubt you will see it again." Free Bird will walk past Tymon and return to their room.

[NightAngel16]

Traxian gives a small smile and gently closes Tymon's jaw. "There is little cause for concern my good man. Now I suggest we get moving; I'm sure we aren't the only passengers on a strict schedule." He continues back towards his quarters without another word.

[petagee]

Tymon looks confused, but nods curtly to Traxian and turns towards the front of the train. The party returns to their train car, as Tymon dashes back to the front conductor car. However, just as the party enters back into the train, Fennel sees some movement out of the corner of his eye near the outside of the back of the train. Glancing back and looking more closely, all is still. Was it a trick of the darkness? Or perhaps something moving out in the shadows?....

An announcement comes over the speakers, “Attention all passengers: we are now resuming our trip towards Starilaskar. Please brace for departure.” All the doors shut automatically, and immediately after, the train goes through the same sequence as it did at the station in Sharn. This time the party is better prepared for the initial surge of speed as the train rockets forward and hardly stumbles. With all settled, the party is able to resume their slumber. But before any of them is able to nod off peacefully, a shrill shriek pierces the night air, followed by cold, empty silence.

[ErminaPix]

Head still reeling from recent events, Phyrie jumps to her feet and looks around at the rest of the party. She's making sure everyone is still present and well before looking for the source of the racket
Search:
[roll0]

[petagee]

Ermina looks around the first class train car, but finds no source for the racket. The scream sounded like it was coming from further back in the train.

[Arkady]

"Never a dull moment...", Goldfeather mutters to herself. Grabbing her gear again, she turns to the party. "Better go see what's up, though I suggest we tread carefully. This train ride is starting to get more exciting than I am comfortable with." Goldfeather will wait for the rest of the party to gear up again (or not, depending on your mood) before heading back along the train. (I am assuming it is like regular trains with passages between each car, even when moving).

Also going to cast detect psionics, just in case (I don't like the sound of the dreaming dark stuff...).

[ErminaPix]

Reassured they are not in immediate danger, Phyrie will follow goldfeather out of the car. Her hands twitch in anticipation as she awaits the unseen enemy upon which she can release her frustration and wrath.

[NightAngel16]

Traxian quickly jumps out of bed, sleep but a distant memory. Following the others, he notices Phyrie's tensed hands. He jokingly remarks, "Before you blow the source of our commotion to kingdom come, try not to cause too much collateral damage to our ride, hmm?" He keeps his hands on the hilts of both rapiers, ready to draw them at a moment's notice.

[petagee]

Those of the party that move down the cars looking for the source of the scream find that many of the cars are quiet and still. A few heads peek out of cabin doors, wary and fearful of whatever prompted the cry. But like turtles, their heads retract back into the shell of their cabins as the party nears. Hushed voices from behind the doors ask one another,"What was that?" "Is someone in trouble?" "Is the train going to stop again?" "Oh, why didn't we take an earlier train? I told you we should have taken an earlier train!"

While most of the train cabin is still and silent, entering the one of last cars in the train, the party is greeted with a truly disturbing sight. The car they have just reached is the economy class lounge car, meant for reading and socializing. Benches fill the room and large windows give a marvelous view of the passing countryside during the day. From the doors of the car, the party sees a young elf woman, no more than a hundred years old, sprawled on the floor. She is dressed in a nightgown, with an open book resting on the floor beside her body. Her throat oozes crimson blood from a clean, deep slash across her neck. The blood has stained her gown and has pooled on the floor around her. Not a single sound is heard or movement seen in the room.

[WyvernBlade]

"So there was something on the train! I knew it!" K'hnut hustles down the train heading toward where the sound came from. "There is no stopping this pain train!"

Arriving at the car with the presumably dead elf in it K'hnut comes to a kick stop. After giving a disgusted look at the elf he will approach and check the body for any other injuries or signs of struggle. Then he will proceed to search the rest of the room for anything out of place and to see if he can find where the assassin entered.

[Arkady]

After seeing the body, Goldfeather will prepare to manifest tons of damage at any danger than jumps out of the shadows. As K'hnut searches to the room, she will keep a watch on both doors to the carriage, especially the one leading to the back of the train.

Prepared action to manifest Mind Thrust (3pp) at anything that tries to attack the party

[petagee]

The door leading towards the next car is shut and all of the windows on the sides of the car are closed. Approaching the body, Kh’nut sees no sign of struggle, not even a bruise on her; just the clean gash across her throat. He does notice that there is chunk missing from the back of one of the benches near the woman’s body. As he reaches the body, Kh’nut catches some movement out of the corner of his eye. Suddenly, like a lid lifted off of a pot, a section of the car’s ceiling is cleanly removed and a skeletal figure clad in armour leaps down onto Kh’nut. Fortunately, Kh’nut spots him just in time to move back and dodge the strike aimed for his head.

At this point, Goldfeather blasts the undead with Mind Thrust, but the creature rebuffs the assault and seems unaffected.

The skeletal soldier bellows fiercely and three more undead soldiers like him come crashing through the side windows of the car, weapons drawn. Suddenly, a dread aura of death and evil fills the room, and the skeletons begin to glow with dark energy. Goldfeather now senses a magic aura.

Skeletons are armed with two scimitars each, and clad in thick breastplate. Roll for initiative and see the new map posted on Roll 20!

[Arkady]

"Blast it!", Goldfeather exclaims, "Why can't we just have a peaceful journey for once?"

Initiative: [roll0]

[WyvernBlade]

Ducking under the skeleton's attack K'hnut growls and prepares for a brawl, "HAHAHAHA You call that an attack?! I'll Show you how its done!"

Initiative: [roll0]

[WyvernBlade]

K'hnut puts his flail into a spin, but before releasing the momentum though he steps around the skeleton to put himself in the middle of the fight. Then with a swing launches his weapon at the skeletons knee caps.

I use Leading the attack (so if I hit everyone gets a +4 morale to bonus to attack the one I hit)
Attack: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]

[petagee]

K'hnut's flail connects with a satisfying smash, sending shards of bone flying. The soldier, in a fit of rage, strikes back at K'hnut with two vicious blows. K'hnut dodges one and shrugs the other off of his armor. There is a look of shock and anger on the face of the creature at being bested by his smaller foe.

[Arkady]

Expelling the focus stored in her psicrystal, Goldfeather launches some fire bolts into 3 of the skellies.

Energy Missile: Fire Type
Targeted at the ones with red circles
Damage: [roll0]
Reflex save DC 16 to take half damage

[NightAngel16]

Without hesitation, Traxian heads into the fray, weapons drawn. He goes for the closest target.
Child of shadow stance activated (concealment as long as Traxian moves each turn)
Fire riposte as a counter is up if someone hits him and they are within melee range.
First rapier to hit: [roll0] -> dmg: [roll1]
Second rapier to hit: [roll2] -> dmg: [roll3]

[petagee]

Goldfeather's firebolts connect with each skeleton, but the one on the left (top) side of the train seems only glanced by the bolt. The skeleton injured by K'hnut seems on the brink of destruction, within an inch of death (or whatever happens to undead). Traxian, leaping into the fray, engages the skeleton on the left side of the train car. His first attack glances but the next strikes true, straight through the heart. But the undead hardly flinches, and Traxian's blow feels like it passed through nothing. The skeleton grins wickedly at Traxian and retaliates with his own attack, taking a mighty swing with one of his swords. The blow finds a chink in Traxian's chain vest, despite his concealment in the shadows, and the curved blade rips through his side, wounding him gravely. But Traxian does not take the blow without some return. Grunting through the pain of his fresh wound, he slams his hand onto to the chest of the creature as flames from his hand light the creature ablaze.

Traxian takes 14 damage (Crit). Zombie takes 11 from fire riposte.

K'hnut hears Traxian's cries of pain and the ensuing heat of fire, but before he can turn to see what has happened, he finds he cannot move, as if held in place by some unseen force. He notices a small glimmer of light from the hole in the roof of the train just above him that fades after a moment.

K'hnut is now affected by Hold Person. Make a will save every turn to try and free yourself.

One of the soldiers, blasted by Goldfeather's firebolt, rushes into the next car and takes two swings at him. Fennel sees an opening to hit him on the way, but misses with his morningstar. One strike finds home and slashes Goldfeather's exposed shoulder.

Goldfeather takes 5 points of damage. Fennel takes an attack of opportunity as the skeleton moves through one of his threatened squares, but misses

Finally, the last soldier moves over to Free Bird and swings down hard towards the crown of his head. However, the blow deflect rather pathetically off his metal exterior.

Whiffs

(Harvey, Ian and Laura: take your turn! Best of luck!)

(And Jan :P)

[The Big Orc]

Stepping away, Free Bird moves into flanking position with Traxian and strikes at the skeleton.

5 - foot step
Activate Brawlers Gauntlet 1 charge (+2 dmg)
Attack roll [roll0]
Damage (bludgeoning/piercing) [roll1]

[WyvernBlade]

K'hnut laughs at the mage who has tried to stop him, except that no sound comes from his lungs and he finds that he cannot moved. Mildly annoyed that he cannot smash things he tries to shake himself free.

Yay for having horrible will!
[roll0]

[ErminaPix]

Phyrie takes a 5 foot step away from the abomination blocking her view. Mindful of Traxian's warning, Phyrie will cast Hail of Stone directed at the skeletal creature directly in front of her. Under her breath she'll mutter "Sticks and stones may break my bones..."

Damage (i think this would be bludgeoning...)
[roll0]

[petagee]

Free Bird’s morningstar is parried by the skeleton with ease, able to easily deal with the two front assault with his two scimitars. Despite his best mental efforts, K’hnut is unable to free himself from the grip of whatever force holds him at bay.

Phyrie summons a hail of stones onto the head of the zombie directly in front of her, and after all of the damage it has suffered, it can no longer stand. The body crumples, but does not die peacefully. Instead, its body explodes with a violent dark energy, injuring Phyrie, Fennel, and Goldfeather.

Phyrie, Goldfeather and Fennel take 7 negative energy damage. DC 15 reflex for half damage. Harvey, you can retake your turn!

[hexavi42]

Shocked by the pulse of dark energy that burst forth from the skeleton after its demise, Fennel throws a quick glare at Phyrie. Everyone had better know not to do that again. He certainly wasn't going to be touching those creatures with anything shorter than a 10 foot pole any time soon.

Striding forth, Fennel quickly channels healing energy and taps Goldfeather's slumped body with his foot, allowing it to flow through that connection.

"Up and at 'em. It's a bit early for naptime yet."

Rolled on Roll20 - Goldfeather's healed for 10.

[petagee]

The nearly destroyed Karnathi hobbles over the benches, avoiding getting hit by Free Bird and tries to take on final swing at Traxian, but Traxian is able to parry the blow and avoid further damage.

Goldfeather and Traxian, you're up!

[NightAngel16]

I'm getting sloppy and reckless. I should have seen that blow coming a mile away. Traxian tries to ignore the intensity of his pain as he retreats back a step.
Using all 3 charges on the healing belt b/c it sucked the last time when I only used 2: [roll0]
Child of shadow stance is still up.
Also apologies, I had misread my cloak of deception maneuver. It only gives me invisibility until the end of my current turn.

[Arkady]

"I could have been napping if not for these bloody piles of bones..", Goldfeather growls. She targets the skeletons with another volley of fire bolts.

Note: I screwed up some number calculations last round, these ones should be correct
Energy Missile: Fire Type (3pp)
DC 16 Reflex Save to halve damage
Damage: [roll0]

[petagee]

Another barrage of fire blasts the Karrnathi, destroying the two soldiers near Free Bird. Both explode violently with the same dark energy. The last standing undead seems to draw in the dark energies and reinvigorates himself from it.

Traxian and Free Bird take 15 points of negative damage. DC 15 Reflex for half (I know it's two separate explosions, but since they are happening at the same time, just do one save). (Also, Ian: I assume even though you are warforged you still take the damage. Correct me if I'm wrong)

The remaining soldier belows in rage, and thrusts his sword in the air, as he charges towards Traxian, swinging wildly at him. The undead's swing misses wide, leaving Traxian unscathed. At the same time, the heavy shuffle of feet is heard overhead and two more Karnathi come crashing through the windows of the dining car, swinging their swords at Phyrie and Goldfeather. Each one is hit by one of the Karnathi swords.

Phyrie takes 8 points of damage. Goldfeather takes 6.

The party also hears more heavy foot steps continue along the top of the car, heading towards the front of the train.

OOC:
Everyone can take their turn now. Best of luck!

[WyvernBlade]

K'hnut seeing the things he want to hit running away and hitting other things upsets K'hnut and renews his struggle to free himself of these magical chains.

[roll0]

[The Big Orc]

Unhappy about the blasts his allies have set off near him, Free Bird quickly repairs his body.
Standard action: Repair Moderate Damage [roll0]

If the hole in the roof is within arms reach (around 9ft) Free Bird will attempt to hoist himself through it, onto the roof of the train.
Swift Action activate Brute Gauntlets (2 charges)
Move action, pull self through the hole Strength check [roll1]

If the hole is not within arms reach, Free Bird will start moving towards the front of the train.
Move action: move to yellow X, triggering attack of opportunity

[NightAngel16]

Is it possible to have some kind of indicator showing where approximately the "footsteps" are heard from on the roof? To kinda gauge our race...

[ErminaPix]

Phyrie, remembering her past failings in battle due to poor concentration, swallows her pride and takes a step back from the monster that injured her. She'll heal for a round.

Healing Belt - 1 Charge
[roll0]

[hexavi42]

Seeing Traxian bleeding, Fennel patches him up as well.

"I know you're accident-prone and all, but could you all honestly stop almost dying the moment I turn my head? At least have the decency to fully die or something... This is getting exhausting."

Healed for 15, rolled in Roll20

[NightAngel16]

"Apologies Fennel, but I need all the strength I can gather for the next few minutes. So thank you." Traxian gathers his newfound vigor and disappears briefly into the shadows only to reappear further down the car. He starts to run, each of his steps seem as if they are carried by unseen winds. They're going for the main engine room!
Shadow Jaunt as a standard action, then max 30 ft. of movement.
Activating step of the wind stance (Traxian can move easily over difficult terrain).

[Arkady]

Grunting with the impact, Goldfeather infuses herself with energy to keep her mind clear (and herself alive, hopefully).


Vigor (2pp)
+10 temp HP

[petagee]

Despite his best efforts, K’hnut is still held in the grasp of the spell. The roof of the train is out of arm’s reach, so Free Bird takes off down to the front of the train, following the footsteps which keep pace just ahead of Traxian as they rush to the front. The one undead takes a swing at Free Bird as he passes but whiffs completely.

Each of the skeletons step into formation, so that each of their targets is flanked and strike with force. Free Bird, Phyrie and Goldfeather are each hit once.

Phyrie takes 6 damage. Goldfeather takes 4 damage. Free Bird takes 8 damage. [Slashing]

(Everyone is up. Post for your next turn! Jan, you are now free from the Hold Person spell. Best of luck as always.)

[NightAngel16]

Blast it! I have to move faster! Just need a little bit more speed... Only a bit ahead of me... Traxian flies through the train, trench coat billowing behind him.
Sacrificing my standard for a double move action.

[WyvernBlade]

A grunt escapes K'hnut's lips as he finally starts to move against the quickly fading strength of the spell. Wasting no time K'hnut launches himself back into the fray and at the nearest enemy.

I will attempt to trip this skeleton.
Touch Attack: [roll0] --> Strength Check --> [roll1] --> Follow Up attack if trip succeeds: [roll2] --> Damage [roll3]

[ErminaPix]

Repulsed yet again from the undead creature standing beside her, Phyrie will take another step back. "Take a hint buddy..." Wary of their explosive tendencies, she'll direct her next attacks at the creep and his buddy beside her. She'll fire two magic missiles.

Damage for first one
[roll0]
Damage for second one
[roll1]

Both guys are the ones within 10 ft

[Arkady]

This is going to hurt...., Goldfeather thinks to herself. "I might need a pick up!", she shouts, just as she fires off another set of fire bolts at the two skeletons surrounding her.

Energy Missile: Fire Type (3pp)
DC 16 Reflex Save to halve damage
Damage: [roll0]

[hexavi42]

Fennel surveyed the situation, taking in the blasted ruin of a once-not-so-terribly damaged train car. "Oh, bugger me...", he mutters under his breath. He hated having to call upon the Traveler so openly, but it looked like the only course of action available to him now.

Fennel flips up his visor and grabs his holy symbol, yanking the bone artifact hard enough to break the leather necklace it hung from. Holding it in front of him, he calls for divine power - and it comes to him, blazing forth from the eight-pointed emblem intensely enough to burn away any shadows in the car. Filling his voice with righteous fury, Fennel roars "YIELD!", and thrusts the emblem at the three skeletons confronting him, willing it to flare even brighter.

Rolled in Roll20, observed by Peter. Managed to turn all three.

[petagee]

Traxian breaks into a full run, moving as fast as he can towards the front of the car. He overtakes the footsteps above him, and now is just ahead of them. K’hnut swings for the Karrnathi’s ankles, but misses the mark, glancing off the soldier’s greaves. Phyrie blasts two of them with magic missles, beginning to damage their armor and skeletal structure. Goldfeather follows suit, blasting two of the closest zombies, but the one on the bottom side seems to avoid the brunt of the damage. Free Bird takes a swing at the undead near the bottom, but the blow deflects off his armor.

The three remaing zombies flee in terror of Fennel’s display of divine power. One flees towards the back of the train, but cannot open the locked train door, and cowers right in front of it. The other flees forward towards Traxian at top speed. The last one sees no way of escape but out of the window, into the night.

Alright everyone. Just the people left on the roof. (And the cowering zombies, I guess). Good Luck!

[WyvernBlade]

K'hnut, undeterred by his failed attack, charges off to meet a new enemy.

Trip attempt:
Touch Attack: [roll0] --> Strength Check (not sure how this works against cowering enemies): [roll1]-->Attack: [roll2]--> Damage: [roll3]
If Touch Attack hits Jrod heals 2, if attack hits Jrod heals 4 instead. Oh and I forgot I get +2 against the zombie, so that is a 12 instead of a 10 and a 28 instead of a 26

[Arkady]

Going with K'hnut to the back of the train, Goldfeather pulls out her crossbow and tries taking a potshot at the cowering pile of bones.

This probably won't do a thing...
Attack Roll: [roll0]
Damage if hit: [roll1]

[NightAngel16]

Traxian reaches the engine room with a final burst of speed and begins banging on the door without hesitation. "We have would-be saboteurs on the train! This is an emergency, so if you value the lives of you and your passengers, you will open this door immediately!!!" Comeoncomeonyoublastedfoolsopenthedoor!

[ErminaPix]

Phyrie will run after the skeleton that headed towards Traxian/the engines. "Oh no you don't..."

She'll spend her whole turn sprinting...

[hexavi42]

Fennel shakes his head as he watches Phyrie run past. "Hell's bells, don't you people ever rest?"

Even so, he shrugs off the slight fatigue that always seemed to come from interacting with his god and lumbers after her. Wary of further dangers lurking through out the train, he unlimbers his morningstar and readies it in one hand. The other still clutches the Traveller's emblem, snapped leather tether ends still dangling from his gauntlet.

Double movement (yaaay fullplate armor slow), ready to swat heads or turn undead if any of either show pop up inbetween the first and second move.

[petagee]

K’hnut rushes the undead, knocking him over with his flail and giving him a good bash once he hits the ground. Despite the unmoving enemy, Goldfeather manages to miss his mark quite wide, almost hitting K’hnut right in the head. Free Bird follows suit, giving the undead a good bash in the head, causing him to crumble and explode.

K’hnut and Free Bird take 6 negative damage

Tymon’s head peeks out of the door, looking around warily, “Ah, good sir! What is amiss? We heard someone scream, and sounds of battle. We didn’t know what to do! But what are you talking about, ‘saboteurs’?” Traxian hears the footsteps come to a stop just above his head, and then slowly move around to the side of the train on the roof.

[NightAngel16]

Traxian pushes through the door into the engine room and grabs Tymon by the shoulders. "Tymon if you value your lives, those of your passengers, and the future functionality of this train, you will do as I say and pull the emergency brakes immediately. Do not ask questions. JUST DO IT!" If Tymon hesitates for too long, Traxian will make a split decision to pull what he believes should be the emergency brakes.
Description of the engine room? I'm gonna guess which is the brake if it comes down to it...

[petagee]

Tymon stutters nervously, and the other two men in the room look very concerned, “But… That would be incredibly dangerous! You realize how fast we are travelling? An emergency stop would be very unwise. The velocity that we are currently travelling at… I mean, it would… Wait, why are you looking at the control panel like that?”

The front car is fairly small, and the room is dominated by a slightly raised platform with a multitude of buttons and knobs. The distinguishing features of it are 3 large levers, one with a green knob on top, one with a yellow and one with a red.

Mike, time to make your move!

[NightAngel16]

Traxian takes a split second to concentrate. With the discipline of a diamond mind adept, time seems to slow in taking its course. Come on, think Trax! Three knobs: green, yellow, red. Hypothesis: red would be the emergency stop in following with typical convention. Note: the lack of the dust and multitude of prints on the green and yellow levers. This would indicate regular use. Red, on the other hand, appears relatively untouched, as if it is only to be used on rare occasions. No time to second guess myself. I have made my decision. This one! Traxian leaps forward and pulls the red lever before any of the engineers can react.

[petagee]

Shouts of protest rise from the conductors as Traxian lunges for the red lever. Their hands reach out to stop his, but are too slow and too weak to prevent Traxian from yanking down on the red lever. Immediately, the whole train begins to fall out of it's hovering, suspending the whole party in a brief moment of weightlessness. Suddenly, a wrenching metal-on-metal sound rings out from below the cars. Unlike the stop they encountered before, the train comes to an incredibly jarring stop, with the sound of metal through earth, grinding and scraping.

Everyone is thrown forward with incredible force. The 4 in the conductor car go face-first into the front window, cracking the glass, though Traxian is able to catch himself and avoid taking too much damage. The remaining undead goes flying into the door of the next car, splatting and exploding in dark energy. Phyrie is able to catch herself on the door of the car, but her chin slams into the door frame before she comes to a stop. Fennel flies forward, rolls off the wall of one of the cabins, and tumbles down the hall, coming to rest not too far from Phyrie. Goldfeather reacts with lightning reflexes, and grabs a hold of one of the nearby benches bolted to the floor. Free Bird and K'hnut are not so quick, and go rocketing into the far wall of the car. K'hnut has the additional pleasure of face-planting into the dead elf's corpse as he collides, albeit which does soften the blow a little, but sprays blood all over him and Free Bird.

Phyrie and Traxian take 4 damage. Fennel takes 6 damage. K'hnut takes 8 damage. Free Bird takes 9 damage. Goldfeather takes no damage. [Bludgeoning]

[Arkady]

"Blast it, what is going on up there?", Goldfeather exclaims as she gets up from the floor. Stopping first to check that K'hnut and Free Bird are alright, she will begin sprinting towards the front of the train, stopping to help anyone else she comes across before continuing to the engine car.

[petagee]

Goldfeather hears grunts and profanities from the cars as he passes. Clearly, some of the passengers were not too pleased with the less than graceful stop. A few of the doors have opened, with heads popping out and surveying the area. They all look concerned at confused at the sight of Goldfeather. One woman calls out to her, “Excuse me, miss! What in the seven hells is going on?”

[NightAngel16]

Traxian picks himself up off the floor and immediately checks on Tymon and the other two engineers.

[petagee]

Tymon has a nasty looking gash across his forehead, groaning in pain. The other two engineers have a few cuts and bruises, but nothing too serious. Tymon looks, for the first time since encountering him, irrate. He rights himself, and angrily addresses Traxian. "What in the nine hells of Baator are you doing!!?!?!?? Do you realize how dangerous that was??!!?! You just put your life and the lives of all of the passengers at HUGE risk!! What in the innumerable planes possessed you??!?" Tymon is breathing heavily and looks quite disheveled, a massive contrast to his usual composure.

[NightAngel16]

Traxian replies back, although his mind seems elsewhere... "Yes, yes, terribly sorry. It was risky, but we all seem to be in relatively one piece. The short of it, is that a mage with an entourage of Karnathi undead were making their way to this engine room via the train's roof. With most of my companions distracted by additional minions in the train cars, one can presume what they planned to do when they reached the three of you..."

He looks out the cracked front window. Talking quietly, almost to himself, "Now, did any of our rooftop interlopers survive our abrupt stop..."

[petagee]

"Karrnathi? Mage? What in the world is going on around here!?!" Tymon pushes past Traxian to the microphone, to make an announcement. "Hello valued passengers. We apologize for the abrupt stop once again. Please be advised that all passengers should remain in their rooms until further notice. Thank you for your patience and cooperation."

Tymon looks exhausted and distressed as he steps away from the microphone. "I am not getting paid enough for this... Don't start the train quite yet. I need to get a handle on this whole mess. And you, no more pulling handles! I suppose that without you lot we would be in a lot more trouble... Then again, I'm beginning to think you all might be to blame for this... In any case, I thank you for saving all of us." He nods slightly in appreciation, then stalks away from the front car, down to survey the train: the damage and the aftermath of the battle.

He meets up with the rest of the party as he makes his way down. His face is drawn in horror as he sees the incredible damage to the lounge and dining car, along with the deceased elf. "Gods above and below, what happened here!?... Well, I guess I better start cleaning all this up. I can imagine that the rest of the train is going to wonder what in the world has happened and disregard the announcement soon enough." Tymon starts by pulling a tablecloth from the dining car and covering the elf woman in a very ceremonious manner, then moves her body on top of one the benches. The corpses of the undead are all just piles of dust, and Tymon sweeps them away and off the train. "Did any of you know this woman?"

Between the darkness outside and the nearly destroyed window, Traxian cannot see anything outside from the conductor car.

[WyvernBlade]

Lifting himself off the floor on all fours K'hnut shakes, spraying gore to all around him. Happy that his landing was padded by the elf. "Huh, I guess elves are good for something." Not dallying on the though he hops upright and bolts off to find that mage to make sure he is dead for real this time, and to repay it for its magical treachery.

[NightAngel16]

Traxian nods at the two remaining conductors, "While we're waiting... Turn on the headlights, I'm going to check for any remnants of those Karnathi shamblers." He ventures off the train, gathering his coat around him against the cool breeze. He makes his way directly in front of the train, his silhouette in contrast to the sharp glaring light.
Traxian searches the span of the light beam.

[ErminaPix]

Slowly raising her hand to her bloody lip, Phyrie will grimace at the slight sting. "Today really isn't my day." She'll continue running to the front of the train.

[petagee]

K’hnut, Phyrie and everone else headed there, meets up with Traxian at the front of the train. In the glaring headlights, the duo cannot see anything immediately. Moving further up and surveying the ground, they find two piles of dust, reminiscent of the Karrnathi corpses found on the train. Outside of the cone of light from the headlights, little can be seen in the dark expanse without more light or good dark vision.

[Arkady]

Goldfeather will stop her head long rush to the front of the train to turn to the questioning passengers. Taking a moment to catch her breath, she puts on her best smile. "I am sorry, but I do not have all of the information right now. There were several Karnathi undead back there, but we took care of them. There may be more, so I suggest that you all follow the conductor's advice and remain in your rooms and lock the doors. I do not know why we stopped yet, but I am on my way to find out. Please return to your rooms, that is probably the safest place to be right now." With that Goldfeather will resume her run towards the front of the train.

Presuming nothing else stops her along the way, Goldfeather will join Traxian in his investigation of the front of the train.

[petagee]

The woman nods nervously, shuts and then locks her door. Goldfeather makes it to the front without incident.

[NightAngel16]

Looks like most of the gang is here... Traxian glances around the bleak landscape, then raises an eye at the present party members. "Look, I'm touched you all rushed to rendezvous with me, but in light of any damage or injuries we may have suffered recently... Where is Free Bird? Hmmm?"
He kneels down to pick up a handful of dust. He examines it for a moment, then scatters it to the wind. "Feel free to continue searching the area for anything useful. I'll see you back in the train."
I'll go stabilize Ian.. but I have no healing :P

[hexavi42]

Trying to focus on anything but the aches and pains incurred from the abrupt stop, Fennel stands and dusts himself off. He wearily regards the wrecked interior of the train car, a sight that was starting to become far too common for his taste. Not since the War had they wracked such carnage - he'd have to do much mending, of broken bones and broken furniture, before he'd be satisfied with the place again.

He draws power in to heal his own wounds and then begins stumbling towards the front of the train again. If the train stop had happened as he thought it did, someone was going to be sleeping in invisibly wet beds for a significant period of time after this.

Healed for 10, rolled in roll20

[WyvernBlade]

Looking out into the dark surrounding the train K'hnut speaks up, "Well there likely is something out there, but how far and if it is coming our way who knows. So I recommend getting back on the train and resume our trip before anything decides it wants a train ride." K'hnut makes his way back on to the train to talk to the conductors to get this train moving again.

[ErminaPix]

Phyrie will take a minute to catch her breath when she reaches the front car. When nothing seems too amiss, she'll heal herself.

Healing Belt - 1 charge
[roll0]

Then she'll turn to the group and say "Well, we've stopped the train. I don't think we've ruled out the possibility that the other enemies are lurking on the roof still. I can provide some light, but probably shouldn't go check alone. I suggest before we start the train again, we make sure they fell off." Phyrie will cast light and walk along the top of the train with whoever would like to go. After each car cleared, she'll signal to one of the party inside indicating that a) she made it and b) there was no trouble. (This way, if they encounter something, the party inside will know relatively soon.) If they make it to the back of the train with no incident, she'll signal to the conductor (no pun intended) to start the train.

[Arkady]

"I agree with K'hnut. Perhaps we should keep a watch going for a while once resume the trip." Goldfeather will also return to the train

[The Big Orc]

After dealing with his injuries, Free Bird will make his way to the front of the train. "Perhaps we should go outside and ensure that our foes met the desired fate."

Not waiting for the others, Free Bird will go outside and look for any movement.
Repair Light Damage x2 [roll0] [roll1]
Infuse weapon with Flaming
Infuse self with Bull's Strength (+4 strength)
Infuse shield with Magic Vestment (+1 AC)

Activate Lenses of Bright Vision (10 minutes of a 15 foot cone of light coming from my eyes)

[petagee]

The night is still and silent outside the train. Free Bird sees no movement outside of the train; it seems that if there were any survivors, they have long fled. Phyries sees nothing on top of the train, except the gaping hole in the roof of the lounge car that has been patched with what appears to be a piece of one of the benches.

With all of the party onboard, Tymon approaches saying, “Well, despite the excitement of tonight, we do have a schedule to keep. We’ll be leaving momentarily.” Tymon moves back to the front of the car, and over the speakers, his voice announces wearily. “Passengers prepare to depart…”

After some much needed sleep, the party arrives in Starilaskar next morning. Once the train stops in the station, Tymon leads them personally from the train over to the nearby caravan yard. On the way there he grumbles something about fools pull train brakes then, before anyone has a chance to say anything they they are shown to an old, shriveled caravan driver, who greets them warmly.

“Well hello there friends. My name is Bartholomew, or Barty, or Bart, or B, whatever you like! I hear you lot need a ride up into New Cyre. Well hop aboard, everything has been paid for and taken care up. Always happy to do business with the House of Cannith. You know, I had a good childhood friend who was a Cannith. Such a strange little man. He once went a date with my sister, took her to a very strange restaurant on the west side of Sharn. That’s where I’m from, did you know? Such a lovely city. Beautiful water, tall towers, quaint shops. Perfect place to me, and let me tell you youngings, I’ve been all over Korvaire, and beyond! Such a magnificent, wide world out there. And I must admit, I haven’t even seen half of what Eberron has to offer. I could tell you tales of such strange, wondrous places you’ve never heard, or dreamed of! Good thing I have a few days to share all of my wealth of knowledge…”

Despite his old appearance, Bart hops from his seat, and helps the party load their gear into the caravan. Once everything is loaded, Bartholomew hops into the driver’s seat, and spurs on his large, mule-like creatures. He begins to whistle, then leaps into his next tale, “Any of you ever been out to Trolanport? Queer little place, there are rumors that…”



If you really wanted to do something on the train or on the way, let us know in the OOC. Otherwise, we continue exploring around in New Cyre...

[Rofltrollcopter]

Before the cart has a chance to depart, a burly half-orc walks up to the cart, accompanied by a gnome wearing an intricate set of goggles and an elven woman with a wand holstered at her side. "A moment of your time, if you please. The half orc says with a calm and friendly tone. "I am Agent Paxton of the Dark Lanterns, and I would like to ask some questions regarding the incident on the lightning rail"

The party recalls that the Dark Lanterns serve the crown of Breland as spies and assassins. Collectively they form the intelligence division of the King's Citadel, a much larger organization sworn to defend Breland from its enemies and dispense justice in the name of King Boranel. More than any other division within the Citadel, the Dark Lanterns tend toward intelligence- gathering missions that extend beyond Breland's borders. As the secret servants of the crown, members of the organization are granted the authority to conduct intelligence operations on foreign soil, execute covert missions across the globe, and prevent national secrets from falling into the hands of rival intelligence agencies. The Dark Lanterns also have the unwritten authority to eliminate any creature that threatens their nation, its sovereign, or its citizens.

[The Big Orc]

"Which one?"

[ErminaPix]

Phyrie, not wanting to offend the Dark Lanterns, turns to Fennel - the most diplomatic of their party. "Perhaps you'd like to speak on our behalf my friend..."

[Rofltrollcopter]

Before speaking further, Paxton glances at Bart. "It looks you haven't packed enough oats for your mules. Perhaps you should go get some more." Bart takes the hint and scrambles away. He looks back at Free Bird and responds in a calm, business like tone. "We are interested in hearing about the undead that attacked the train." He gives the group a look of respect "Karnathi Undead are a nasty piece of work. Fighting off a group like that is quite impressive. Please tell me everything you know about the whole incident, starting from when the attack began."

[WyvernBlade]

Grateful to the king of Breland for taking in the Cyrian refugees K'hnut will freely tell them of what happened on the train. "Well the attack began when we were sleeping. However it is important to note that the train had to come to a stop for a time because there was a big green dragon squatting on our tracks. So my hypothesis is that the things boarded the train while we were stopped, then waited for things to settle down after the commotion with the dragon, and then when we weren't expecting anything. WHAM! they strike. We woke up from screaming and headed down to find who it was that was screaming. We found a dead elf so she likely saw the abominations, screamed, then got her throat sliced open. We smacked each other around a bit though a blasted caster prevented me from having too much fun. Then before things got too out of hand our cleric here made all the undead run for the hills. There were however still a few on the roof, but lucky for us Trax here got rid of them by launching them off the roof with some quick feet and quick thinking. Well that's about what happened on the train."

After looking them up and down K'hunt asks some questions of his own. "So now that your question has been answered would you mind telling me what you hope to do about the event?"

[Rofltrollcopter]

Paxton comments dryly when K'hnut mentions Traxian pulling the emergency brake. "I think House Jorasco owes you a debt of gratitude for their recent influx of wealth. House Orien was obligated to foot the bill for all the injuries that the passengers suffered when your friend pulled that stunt. House Orien must like you, otherwise they would have took it out of your hides. He nods appreciatively at K'hnut when he is finished telling the story. "and did you manage to capture the caster? Do you know why they attacked the train?

He pauses for a brief moment when K'hnut asks him what he intends to do. "I don't think you grasp the severity of this situation. The formula for creating such warriors is a closely guarded secret of the Royal Necromancers. Technically speaking, all such undead are considered the property of the Karrnathi state. At the very least, this was a foreign attack on Brelish citizens on our own soil. We intend to see that justice is done. I suspect that House Orien will be contracting Houses Denieth and Medani to facilitate their own revenge. All paying travelers on a lightning rail train are considered to be honored guests, provided they bring no trouble with them. Attacking their guests will be considered a personal insult to the House, and one they will not take lightly.

[The Big Orc]

"We were unable to find the caster after the breaks were pulled. I suspect that it must have survived as otherwise there would likely have been some trace, perhaps a body. As for motive, all that we know is that the caster started moving towards the front of the train after we began our brawl with the undead. We can extrapolate that they may have intended to stop the train, kill a specific person on the train; possibly the woman, or just kill everyone," pausing as though he is uncertain, he shakes his head and says softly, "And I would not be too quick to assume that the Karrnathi were behind the attack. It should be considered that a cleric could have been able to assume control over the group that we encountered. It does not seem logical that the Karrnathi government would send a strike team to disrupt a passenger train if they were intending to strike against Breland. There may well be a group whom would like to frame the Karrnathi or even re-ignite the war. Being the property of someone does not mean you will never go against their orders. I know this from experience. I would recommend not helping to re-ignite a war that caused so much pain and suffering without further investigation."

None of this said in any tones that would seem sarcastic at all. Ok, none of the second section said in any tones that would seem sarcastic at all.

[Rofltrollcopter]

Paxton inclines his head in a gesture of respect "Warforged, if you ever tire of mercenary work, come to the Citadel. We could use that head of yours. You are quite correct in that we cannot assume anything beyond that their is a foreign interest involved. We can say with some certainty that this attack was not intended to be a false flag operation to lure Karrnath into a war. That sort of ploy would have been far more effective in Aundair or Thrane. They have much greater reasons to distrust the Karrnathi. Half of the Church of the Silver Flame would have jumped at the excuse to declare a crusade agianst Karrnath."

[The Big Orc]

"Perhaps one day, but for now I prefer the freedom of selecting my own work. Is there anything else we can help with?"

[Rofltrollcopter]

Paxton shakes his head."That will not be necessary. Have a pleasant journey" Bart returns to the cart, and soon the party begins its journey.

...Two days later, the party arrives in New Cyre (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vbtFT9EqiyI). From a distance, the party sees that the town is surrounded by a wooden wall, a few metres high, with guards littered across the top patrolling. After gaining access to the town through a guard station manned by men from House Deneith, the state of affairs in New Cyre becomes quite apparent. Though it is clear that the fashion of the people here takes after Cyre, it is a pathetic imitation of Cyre before the Day of Mourning. The once bright colors of their robes have faded; the seams are tattered and torn; heads are bowed in fear, as if refusing to look forward and accept the fate they have received; and their once bright smiles have sagged into looks of indifference and despair. Even the buildings follow this same vein: beige, utilitarian buildings are packed into the space enveloped by the wooden walls, many of which look to be no more than a light breeze from collapse. Because of this, many of the citizens have taken to the streets, huddled into the alleyways and gutters of the town. It seems that at one point or another, in a child-like attempt to bring vibrancy back into the town, bright paints were splattered across the facades of the greying buildings. But like the hope in this town, most, if not all of it, has faded, now almost impossible to see.

Near the edge of the town is a caravan yard, where Bartholomew stops and lets off the party. “I hear you lot need to be off to Rhukaan Draal after. I have some business in Darguun myself, so I'll offer to take you over the mountain once you are done here. I will take care of some of my business here while I wait and revel in the history of this place. The last remnants of the once great Cyre, all gathered together, fighting to survive and keep what is left of their nation alive… But let me keep you no longer. Off you go!” Bartholomew laughs heartily, then hops back into the caravan, out of sight.

[Arkady]

Goldfeather's eyes tear up at the sorry sight of New Cyre. "It is hard to see how far we have fallen. So few of us left now..." Wiping her eyes, Goldfeather's face hardens as she starts striding towards the center of town. "Come on, let's go get some information on the Mournlands."

Goldfeather will be looking for any likely source of information, such as libraries, shops for expedition equipment, or anything else that may hold clues. If you want a Gather Information check or something, let me know.

[Rofltrollcopter]

As you get closer to the center of the small town you notice that the faces appear more and more hopeless and homeless crowd several of the alleyways. As you pass by one of the alleyways, you manage to catch a glimpse of a man snorting some powder. A few of the people look at the party’s expensive magical equipment with weary and jealous eyes. This city appears far less like the former Cyrean nation, and more like the bleak final days of the war.

As Traxian continues his investigation, he gets approached by a young man dressed in simple clothing. “Greetings, my name is Frugretor,” he says with a brief polite smile, then continues on focused. “I am here on behalf of Prince Oargev. You were soldiers of Cyre before the war, correct?” After a sign of acknowledgement he continues, “I’ve been asked to summon you for an audience with the Prince. Will you join me?

[NightAngel16]

Traxian lifts the brim of his hat, sun glinting off his shades as he regards the young man. Does he now? Interesting. He gestures forward, "Well then, let's not keep the good prince waiting. Lead on."
Meh sense motive, cuz I can: [roll0]

[Rofltrollcopter]

Traxian can tell that the messenger feels as if he is addressing the party from a very, very weak position, despite his best efforts to hide it.

[WyvernBlade]

K'hnuts lip curls in disgust, "You'll find more cheer in a graveyard. What has happened to those we once called our Cyrian brethren?" K'hnut pulls his cloak tightly around himself and shoves his coin pouch down his pants and secures them in place to dissuade any thieves or pick pockets.

After the prince's summons has been delivered K'hnut agrees to go along in the hopes of finding answers that will help them on their quest.

[Rofltrollcopter]

Frugretor turns around at Kh'nut's comment and lets out a small chuckle, that grows into a bout of delirious laughter "We lost the war, remember?" He leads the group further into town. As they pass by, they notice that the town lacks most of the artifical amenities that most places in Khorvaire possess. They see a solitary inn, a House Sivis message station, but not much else. A couple of street children, which is quite unusual for a town this small to have, size up the party noticing their apparent wealth. They see that Kh'nut is on guard, and do not attempt anything. As they get near the center of town, they hear a loud voice ring out

"..repent and confess to your sins. The Mourning was the divine punishment for the hubris and wicked ways of Cyre. It is too late to save your loved ones who never saw the light of human decency and now suffer in Damnation, but you need not share their fate! Embrace the Silver Flame, and become pure! If you will not hearken unto me, and obey these commandments. The divine powers will add to your sorrows, they will send plagues, famine, drought, destructive armies and, wild beasts who shall devour your children. If you walk contrary to the righteous path THE SILVER FLAME WILL WALK CONTRARY TO YOU IN FURY... It will destroy your high places, and cut down your images, and cast your carcasses upon the carcasses of your idols.

The party can practically hear the sound of Frugretor's teeth grinding, and he picks up his pace and hurries along. The party can see where the speech is coming from. A man is standing in front of a church dedicated to the Silver Flame, preaching and raving in the streets. He is dressed in finery and his voice is filled with a vindictive passion.

[NightAngel16]

Without breaking pace, Traxian notes offhandedly, "You seem rather vexed... Frugretor."

[Rofltrollcopter]

"We've had to put up with that hate preacher for months now" Frugretor growls "I would like to see you stay calm when you've had to listen to a so-called holy man insult our dead kin."

[Rofltrollcopter]

Frugretor continues to lead the party towards the center of the town. They arrive at another squat, utilitarian building in the center of the town. The building itself is only two stories, and the party has stayed at many inns which were substantially larger then this building. A tattered Cyrean flag flies above it, bearing a crown and bell on a field of green, above a hammer and bellows. They enter a small reception area. In one of the corners the room there is a pile of sleeping mats. The room is plain and not decorated, bearing the distinct lack of finery that one would associate with royalty. There are a few other people in the room, a group of soldiers with the bear of Breland on their armor and an elderly man standing by himself, guarding a door at the far end of the room. The venerable man is long past his prime, and his half plate armor looks almost comical on his frail form. Still, he stands ramrod straight and within his eyes there is a light that glows with purpose. The party recognizes the insignia on his armor as the standard of the Champions of the Bell, a group of heroes and adventurers that fought for Cyre during the war.

The door is slightly ajar, and the occupants of the room can overhear a conversation inside. "Our orders were quite clear Mayor. The outlying farms are outside of our area of operation. You should have kept your people inside the lands that Parliament had set aside." "We needed the extra farmland, with the new wave of refugees, we wouldn't have had enough food to feed ourselves through the next winter. The bandit attacks..." "Well, I'm sorry your majesty" the speaker responds in a sarcastic, condescending tone "If we operate in Cyrean territory, that could provoke an international accident. This will have to be set up through the proper channels and we will have to arrange a treaty. Unfortunately Breland does not have anyone worthy of negotiating with someone of your station here. We will have to send for King Boranel, that could take years. Or, if mighty Cyre doesn't want the help of the Brelish army, you could always go home crying to mommy and daddy for help. Oh, wait nevermind." The Brelish soldiers in the room snicker. The door opens and a man in armor with a cape strides out. The venerable man puts his hand on his sword. "How dare you disrespect his Grace!". The Brelish soldiers respond in kind, and tension fills the room. STOP. This is not worth it." the voice in the room cries out. The Brelish captain smirks and eyes the Cyrean veteran. "You should listen to your Master, dog. Don't want to bite off something you cannot swallow. Were I come from old hounds were put down when they become useless". The Brelish soldiers form up and leave the building.

[NightAngel16]

How quaint. Traxian strides up to the elderly guard and gives a curt bow. "Traxian d'Medani, the pleasure is all mine. The prince's previous engagement appears to have come to an end. May we enter?"
I'm stuck on a train with very little to do... yay pbp responses.

[WyvernBlade]

K'hnut after all he has lost from the war has grown quite tired of these squabbles between nations so decides to just watch the two groups exchange "pleasantries". After the Brelish depart K'hnut salutes the old soldier, "K'hnut Tch'Dis, pleasure to meet you." After his brief introduction K'hnut steps back to allow the rest of the party to introduce themselves and do the talking.

[ErminaPix]

Phyrie remains quiet as she follows the party to the prince's quarters. So many people have skewed perspectives on what is really important. Loyalty, respect, and above all, order. Politics is a coward's game where lies and deceit are insidious. She'll take the opportunity to take a good look around. She'll be looking for suspicious activities in the halls, and check possible exits.

[Rofltrollcopter]

The old soldier salutes K'hnut back and leads them into the room beyond. It is a small office, on the verge of being confining with all six party members standing in the room. Before them stands Oargev ir'Wynarn, the last (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eGPuSQN2t3o) surviving member of the Cyrean royal family. He would have been considered a handsome man, if his face was not filled with worry. His shoulders are slumped, as if bearing some large, unseen load. He looks as if he has not had a good nights sleep in a very, very long time. He dressed in finery that looks like it came from the old glory days of Cyre, although one does not have to look hard to find frayed patches on his clothing. Behind him, there is a small portrait of Oargev and a woman and a little girl, it appears to be a picture of his family. The Oargev in the portrait almost looks like a completely different person, even though the portrait was probably only taken about six years ago. Behind him there sits a dusty lute on a shelf, collecting dust. He looks at the party and offers a sincere smile, attempting to ward away the sorrows of New Cyre with his presence."On behalf of New Cyre, I welcome you. I heard that more of our people had arrived today, not refugees bowed by the world, but seasoned adventurers. May I have the honor of knowing your names and the reasons that you have travelled to New Cyre? Have you come to join us?

[NightAngel16]

As the party leaves the map of Khorvaire, Traxian takes a moment to write a small message on one of the walls:
"See you soon.
xoxo
-Goggles"
He signs it with a haphazard looking mark of the House Medani, then quickly follows after the others.

[Arkady]

(Post assumes we have returned to Rhukaan Draal, found an inn, and are staying there currently)

Goldfeather searches the map of the Mournlands yet again. Originally given to the party by the prince, it now sports a new mark at the supposed location of the Blackhearth facility. Turning to the rest of the party, she lets out a great sigh. "Well, we have our location, our route, and our supplies. I think it is time for us to begin our mission in earnest. I still think we should keep an eye out for those guys from Rose Quarry. They give me the creeps. It wouldn't do us any good to have them to worry about on top of what we might find in the Mournlands."

Getting up from the table, she will collect her things and make ready to leave. "If anybody has any last-minute business, now is the time to get it taken care of. We should go see if our good friend with the earth elemental wagon would be up for taking us to the Mournlands." After completing any other things people want to get done, Goldfeather will head with the party to the tavern where they first met Failin to see if he is still there.

[Rofltrollcopter]

Goldfeather catches Failen as he is hiding his cart "Yes, what do you want?"

[Arkady]

"Hello again Failen. Quite a trip that was, eh? Anyways, I have a business proposition for you. Would you be interested in transporting us to the Mournlands? Or at least as close as your are comfortable with." Goldfeather waits to see what kind of reaction she gets.

Diplomacy Roll: [roll0]

[Rofltrollcopter]

Goldfeather's words are not sufficient to assuage Failen's concerns and he pales at the mention of the Mournlands. Not inside. Far too dangerous, too little reward. I can take you close to the mists, same rate.

OOC: Other people can participate/help in this conversation

[Arkady]

Goldfeather will turn to the rest of the group, "Does this arrangement suit you all?"

Please reply if this is acceptable, rate was 60gp per person, I believe. (30 now, 30 when we there or something like that).

[NightAngel16]

Seeking a respite from the hot afternoon sun, Traxian tentatively agrees from the nearby shade of the tavern's structure. "Assuming we cannot acquire a faster or cheaper method of transportation to our destination, I have no objections." He heads back into the tavern without much cause. I'm parched. Seems like a drink is in order. He signals to the barkeep, placing down some coins, "An ale just to quench my thirst."

Once he has his drink, he takes a sip, allowing the brew to calm his nerves and help him rein in his focus. He takes in his surroundings, noting minute quirks and mannerisms in the various patrons. Too many to count. Each individual with their own intrinsic motivations and purposes. What are we really doing in this godforsaken pit of a town? What am I doing here? We say that our decisions are influenced by a myriad of factors. Free Bird with his 'free the slaves' attitude or Phyrie's volcanic disposition. But, in the end, it all comes down to one choice over the other. Black and white, no greys........ Well in any case, the sooner we reach this 'Blackhearth' the better.

[ErminaPix]

Phyrie has no issue with the price. She'll flip a small bag of coins lightly into the air and pat the wagon driver on the back as she climbs aboard :)

[hexavi42]

Fennel shrugs nonchalantly (he'd have to exaggerate the movement for it to be anything other than nonchalant, under all that armor). Smiling at Failen, Fennel tosses a bag filled with sixty gold coins to the tinkerer. "I'll pay in full, friend - we've gotten this far trusting you; why stop now?"

He doesn't actually trust Failen yet, but why show it? Thirty gold is chump's change - Fennel has nothing in mind for the vast majority of his new found wealth anyway.

[WyvernBlade]

K'hnut hops back onto the wagon, "Well best not to linger to long if we want to get there before your friends Trax." K'hnut pays the driver and settles down for the trip.

[Arkady]

"Alright, it's decided then. We can leave as soon as you are ready Failen"

OOC: I think we are in majority agreement here, so I assume we've all completed our leveling up, purchasing, etc. and are ready to proceed with the journey ahead (if there is stuff that we still needed to do, post in the OOC thread).

[Rofltrollcopter]

Failen leads the party to the outskirts of Rhuukan Draal and once again summons his landcart from the stone. He attaches several banners made of hide decorated with crude sigils to the side of the cart. He explains them to be banners of safe passage with the various goblinoid tribes whose lands they will be passing through.

The party notices a figure that seems to have followed them through the streets of Rhuukan Draal. The figure is hiding behind a nearby building (60 ft from the party) and wearing a costume of black cloth with a faceless, silver mask. The figure is trying to remain hidden and does not appear to notice that it has been spotted. There are no guards or civilians around.

[NightAngel16]

Noticing their pursuer, Traxian silently signals the party and goes around to the other side of Failen's cart as if to inspect it before they head out on their travels. With the shadowy figure's vision of him obstructed, he gathers his cloak around him and vanishes. He makes his way to the opposite side of the nearby building and feels the embrace of the shadows as he jaunts to the rooftop. He remains there to observe this mysterious character.

1 charge of the vanisher cloak, 1 use of shadow jaunt (though I'm assuming Trax can refresh it when he's on the roof).
Also, not sure if this works.. but sense motive: [roll0]

[Rofltrollcopter]

Traxian can tell that figure has taken an interest in the party. Something has spooked it, and it ducks down and begins to sneak away, still moving slowly in an attempt to be hidden.

[NightAngel16]

Gathering the shadows around him once again, Traxian briefly turns invisible and jaunts right into the path of their mysterious watcher, directly in front of them. The shadows reveal his form once again and to any on-lookers it would appear as if he had appeared out of thin air. "Well you have our, or at least my, undivided attention now. For the moment, I mean you no harm, but other individuals might consider it rude to eavesdrop without an invitation to do so. Care to explain?"

Diplomacy I guess? [roll0]
Cloak of deception and shadow jaunt maneuvers are also used up atm.

[Rofltrollcopter]

You hear the women's voice let out a startled Gahk! and she tries to sprint away.

OOC: Traxian gets an attack of opportunity.

[NightAngel16]

Traxian attempts to trip the fleeing individual.
Attack roll: [roll0]
Strength check: [roll1]

[Rofltrollcopter]

As Traxian attempts to trip the assailant, she whips out at him with a dagger. The attack goes wide, and Traxian steps around the clumsy thrust. Traxian stretches out his foot and catches it on her black cloak, causing her to faceplant in the ground. The assailant crawls 30 ft away, but does not get up.

[WyvernBlade]

K'hnut seeing the Traxian trip the stranger decides that they should probably stay down. Pulling out a net K'hnut jumps on the masked figure and attempts to wrap the net around them to prevent them from escaping easily.

No idea what kind of roll this would be but here is an attack roll for attacking them with a net. [roll0]