Mark of Heroes

[Grimtina]

You are member of the Digger's Union withg headquarters situated in the Grea Tower in Wroat (http://eberronunlimited.wdfiles.com/local--files/wroat/Wroat.jpg), the capital of Breland. You have just recently joined and barely know each other.

The Digger's Union attract all kinds of fortune seekers, investigators, scholars and warriors. Generally, the Union is held in very low esteem by the Dragonmarked Houses, as it is seen as a poor-man's union compared to the nobility of the Houses. The Union's leadership seldom or never asks how its members acquire information or artifacts, and how the missions are carried out are left to the appointed members' resourcefulness. Nor does leadership meddle in the personal affairs of their affiliated Diggers, and they leave members to sort out their own personal differences. Conflicts within the guild is common, both due to the great variety of world views and disagreements in moral issues as well as constant fights for better positions in the hierarchy.

Early in its history the organization was called simply the “Union”. The original confederates pooled their resources and funded their own Xen’drik explorations thus bypassing the Sharn bottleneck. And they had considerable resources. Grea himself was the son of a successful adventurer, gaining a large inheritance when his mother’s adventures finally got the better of her. Among other early masters were nobles weary of the doldrums of landed gentry life, scions of explorer-barons rich off the profit of earlier Xen’drik expeditions, and lesser members of dragonmarked houses, all drawn to the adventurous and academic excitement that the name Morgrave evoked. The Union’s charter members were an influential subset of the very people who secured the Wroat campus charter 12 years earlier.

Though technically always independent from Morgrave University, in the early days the Wroat campus subsidized the Union’s expeditions and in 825 KY even granted land for its headquarters—Grea Tower—named for the Union’s main founder, by then missing in Xen’drik, and presumed dead. In practice, the campus’s most important professors, administrators, and able-bodied students were members of, ran, or benefited from the Union. For all intents and purposes, the Union was the true governing body of the Wroat campus, and as consequence enjoyed an almost obscene level of collusion with that institution. It’s even rumored that the Union’s masters were not above using violence, blackmail, and bribery to ensure their control over campus directors and local officials, though to this day the Digger’s Union claims such accusations were the fantasies of Morgrave rumor mongers.

This changed in 852 YK, when the Wroat Morgrave campus was ordered to stop subsidizing the Union’s expeditions and administration. In the writ from then president Murindal ir’Morgrave the campus was ordered to cease all associate with “that rabble of base diggers whose bumbling exploration of the historical, magical, and cultural treasures that is Xen’drik undermines the very foundation of scholastic integrity of Morgrave University.” It was crap, and everyone knew it, especially the masters of Grea Tower.

The writ was handed down in an era where the president of the Sharn campus actively blacklisted adventurers from the various guilds, orders, and explorer fellowships that began popping up in the City of Towers. It was bad enough that House Lyrandar regulated the prices for travel to the continent, and the costs of dragonmarked guides from House Tharashk were likewise controlled, the university dreaded a time when adventurers would organize to fix prices or demand guarantees for services rather than be paid a share of the treasure gained during an expedition. Not only did it see the Union as competition, but also as an extension of a growing problem that would ultimately cut deeper into Xen’drik expedition profitability.

Still, the president’s order came with a real danger of revocation of charter, and even threatened to secure the aid of House Medani to enforce their will and “secure” the Wroat campus. This was coupled with the promise of further sanctions against the Union itself, advised by Morgrave-sympathetic members of the Breland Parliament. Morgrave convinced many members that the threat of “unionization” could affect taxes generated by the influx of artifacts. And while prior to the Last War parliament was only an advisory council to the govern-prince of Breland, advice on taxation fears always held particular weight with the regent. Pressured from many sides, the Wroat campus acquiesced to the demands of writ. It cut off all financial ties to the Union, and purged Union members from its administration.

The forceful secession from the university didn’t end the Union; rather it prompted an ostentatious display of dissolution, followed days later by an equally flamboyant reformation by founder’s niece, Kyness Grea. The “new” organization called itself a “Union of Diggers” and in doing so wore Murindal’s condemnation like a badge of honor. She also changed the old sigil of four grasping hands to the more dramatic rampant bulette device, further communicating the Union’s scorn of the Morgrave writ.

Kyness declared herself the first headmaster of the organization, and created its unique patronage structure. She also created as the secret Conclave of Union Masters, a clandestine group of patrons whose members advise the headmaster. While the roster of the conclave is a closely guarded secret, it’s believed its original members were the very same people who held similar positions on the older, more transparent, Board of Masters governing the original Union. The fact that Kyness Grea was the former Speaker of the Union—basically an ambassador to the world outside the organization—and that the headmaster was the only known member of the conclave, seeming to perform similar duties as the old Speaker, did nothing to dismiss the idea.

The unique and sometimes bewildering patronage structure—the semblance of which is still used by the Union in Wroat, Sharn, Stormreach and a few other chapter houses—was created not only to guard the anonymity of the organizations masters and agents, but also to protect clients from the censure of Morgrave University. It not only created a safe haven for Morgrave professors wanting to partake of the Digger’s Union services, it also attracted others interested parties desiring a degree of secrecy. While gaining clients outside of the Wroat campus caused the Diggers’ Union to grow dramatically in the years leading up to the Last War, such growth was not without its share of controversies, some of which lead to organization gaining the unfortunate nickname of the “gravediggers’ union.”

Grea Tower, named after the union’s founder, Calsuntil Grea, was the first union house for the diggers, and is arguably the mot important, though the smaller Xengate Tower in Sharn is by far more prestigious. Union members from throughout Khorvaire dwell in its expansive dormitories or take residence in the rented fl ats that lie over taverns and shops around Grea Tower. All ready at a moment’s notice for a patron or matron to call them to the service of the union. This is also true for you. On one early Zol morning, while on the way to find breakfast, you all stumble upon a disturbance in the dormitories. A gust of wind blows a slightly ajar door wide open. The hinges creak as the door opens. Beyond, bottles, adventuring equipment, and garbage litter the cell. A solitary figure - shriveled, male, most likely human, with dark but graying hair, and as still as the dead - crouches in the far side of the room, face in the corner.

[czieg]

War Unit-051 opens the door to the room, the old warforged examines the humanoid before extending his hand, Introduction: Greetings organic, my designation is War Unit-051. What is your designation. If you are unable to speak, please begin writing all responses out in any means necessary. Obligatory conversation initiator: The weather is adequate today. there is a break in the warforged speech and the word adequate is spoken in a different voice then the rest of his speech.

[Rhunder]

Peaking his head behind the warforged, Shard asks "Do you even think that's alive?"
Shard then makes his way through the room, kicking junk and garbage. Giving the room a glance, before quickly deciding there was nothing that he would find useful.

[Yael]

As Mecha enters the room, and hears War Unit-051, he quickly answers Shard's question.

"I don't know, and I won't get close, I'm not scouting that."

Trying to intend a pun, Mecha notices that this isn't the time for jokes, and continues.

"We should give it a closer look."

Says Mecha, as he walks slowly into the room, not more far than 051 is.

[Grimtina]

The man in the corner is dead, as a closer look reveals, and must have been so for some hours. Slowly, the hallway fills with residents, everyone trying to see what is going on.

"Hey," someone exclaims, "that's Delvron Gaunt's room. Is he dead?"

[Hattish Thing]

Salty rumbles through the hall, whistling and bumbling a jovial little tune, his pointed shoes tapping at the floor as he moves to fill his massive belly with as much food as he could carry! The smellier and stronger the smell the better! However, as he draws nearer to the dormitory, the ever-curious dwarf sticks his head into the area, his large feathered cap bobbing atop his large, ugly head. He lets out a huge belch, customary to his entrance, before speaking. "Sho... Uh... What the 'ell happened 'ere? Ish shomeone drunk again? I didn't do it, whatever it ish..." The great hairy creature stands before you, his rugged and surprisingly well-groomed brown beard flowing over extravagant navy and crimson clothing. A large wide-brimmed and feathered cap covers most of the hair on his forehead, though his immensely thick eyebrows more than make up for it. His beard is oddly styled too, for his mustache seems to actually be large than the actually beard growing from his chin! A huge and mighty nose sticks over the mustache, and remains his most prominent feature. It's like his parents forgot to add the handsome to his ruggedness. Piles of equipment are mounted in an overfilling backpack behind him, and his belt is covered in all manners of pouches. Large rings cover his gloved hands, though most appear to be simple metal. One of the rings even appears to be spiked! What a strange little man belching and questioning the group!

[Rhunder]

The minotaur heads off the crowd and the unusually funny dressed hairball at the door "Alright, let's get moving. We all know what a body looks like. No reason to make a scene over somebody dying."

The large minotaur positions himself in the doorway.

[Grimtina]

A few of the crowd move on, with expressions saying "glad it's a problem of other people" but most move away only hesitantly, thinking they are missing out on something exciting - nothing much had happened lately. "Maybe he is just undead?" a young necro asks, and it sounds hopeful.

[Rhunder]

Shard seems puzzled by the question "Undead? Like not dead? I'm pretty sure that's the same as alive."

The minotaur turns to the warforged "Hey, metal men, this guy wants to know if he is dead or just undead?.....whatever that means." mumbling the last part to himself.

[Hattish Thing]

The minotaur heads off the crowd and the unusually funny dressed hairball at the door "Alright, let's get moving. We all know what a body looks like. No reason to make a scene over somebody dying."

The large minotaur positions himself in the doorway.

Salty scrunches up his face, stroking his beard a tad before harrumphing quite loudly. He waggles his stumpy and oddly hairy fingers towards the much larger creature and speaks again. "Now, now. A death ish a wonderfully good reashon to make a fussh! A good fussh, or a bad fussh... or a fussh in between. I dunno. Really dependsh on whether or not I liked tha guy. Did I like tha guy? I dunno, I don't often like guysh. Or galsh. I don't dishcriminate. Jusht let me threw, cowman. Taursh are like cowsh, right? Or goatsh? I can't remember. Okay." His lisp is quite amusing, as is his odd speaking pattern and general tone.

[Grimtina]

"If that's Gaunt," a halfling girl in the crowd peeps up before leaving, "you probably didn't like him. Always grumpy, he was."

[czieg]

Clarification: Undead are corpses/skeletons that have been raised using negative energy. They are usually unthinking automatons controlled by another being. There are some undead that are intelligent.
Examples of unintelligent undead: Zombies, walking skeletons
Examples of intelligent undead: liches, some ghosts
Response: Judging from a lack of response or sound due to noise, This person is either dead or a very deep sleeper.

[Grimtina]

"Not undead, hear?" Some half-orc bumps the necro on the head. "Now let's get to our mission already and leave those nice folks to sort this mess here out for us." With that, he drags the protesting necro out. "But what if no one claims the body? Then I could use him... hey let go of me..." The voice trails off around the corner, and by now most people have backed off far enough to not be in the way. But of course, they still wait what you are going to do.

[Rhunder]

Between the funny looking dwarf and the irrational speak of War, Shard stands out of the doorway holding his head in confusion. He sits down onte far side of the room away from the body.

[Grimtina]

A tiny voice peeps up next to Shard's head. "What do you think happened? Will there be stories to tell?" The tiniest halfling you ever saw, a red-haired woman, stands behind you, an everwriting quill posed over an everfilling sheet of parchment. "I'm a reporter for the Chronicler, you see, and just happened to be close by."

[Rhunder]

A tiny voice peeps up next to Shard's head. "What do you think happened? Will there be stories to tell?" The tiniest halfling you ever saw, a red-haired woman, stands behind you, an everwriting quill posed over an everfilling sheet of parchment. "I'm a reporter for the Chronicler, you see, and just happened to be close by."

"DANG IT!!!! Don't sneak up on me like that. That's how you get smashed with a warhammer. I don't know a thing about this person. Ask the colorful fellow or those guys." Shard says pointing at the warforged.

[czieg]

A tiny voice peeps up next to Shard's head. "What do you think happened? Will there be stories to tell?" The tiniest halfling you ever saw, a red-haired woman, stands behind you, an everwriting quill posed over an everfilling sheet of parchment. "I'm a reporter for the Chronicler, you see, and just happened to be close by."

Rejection: I refuse to divulge union information. I have nothing to say to any reporters.
Helpful Advise: If you wish for a story, please wait until we discover what has happened.

[Grimtina]

A bit intimidated, the woman nods and steps back.

"He’s been living in Grea Tower for a little over a month," a female dwarf comments, pointing at the body. "Cyran refugee and veteran of the Last War. Everyone tried to be friendly to him, but by the Host, he did have a vicious temper. He had a drinking problem, too, and nightmares. So after a week or so no one tried anymore. He's been known to sleepwalk a few times, but he even had a vicious temper then!"

[Rhunder]

"So he probably had some enemies here. Hmm..." Shard mumbled to himself loudly. Looking around suspiciously, the minotaur makes his way into the hallway.

[Grimtina]

"Oh, he sure had," the dwarf woman agrees. "I almost was one of them, but then decided to just ignore him and leave him to his misery. But whoever did this needs to be found, it is no way to come in here and kill one of us, who knws what'll happen next?" Her face says she means "who will be killed next?"

[czieg]

"Oh, he sure had," the dwarf woman agrees. "I almost was one of them, but then decided to just ignore him and leave him to his misery. But whoever did this needs to be found, it is no way to come in here and kill one of us, who knws what'll happen next?" Her face says she means "who will be killed next?"

Prediction: I expect it will not be you, lady dwarf. If you disliked him, it would make sense neither did the killer. This makes it unlikely anyone who disliked the man unlikely to be targeted.
Exception: If the killer was not targeting just him, then we do not know the killer's motive and who will be struck down by the killer. It is quite possible that the killer was targeting the union and not this man.

[Grimtina]

"You seem to have the hang of it," the dwarf nods. "Looks like you volunteered to head up the investigation."

[czieg]

"You seem to have the hang of it," the dwarf nods. "Looks like you volunteered to head up the investigation."
Negative: I have not volunteered to lead but appears we do have a group that is ready to attempt the project.

[Grimtina]

"Good, I'll let everyone know you are on it so business here will go back to normal," the dwarf nods, then she pushes the still watching reporter aside to do just that. As usual, when it comes to something which could turn out complicated, it is easier to volunteer others.

appropriate checks for various searches would be helpful

[czieg]

Inquiry: Does anyone have experience in this situation? I was not designed for this set of occurrences. After saying this, War's head spins in place, scanning the room for anything out of place.

Search [roll0]

[Grimtina]

The door has not been forced open, and while the room is messy - Gaunt was a slob as it looks like - there is only sign of slight struggle. The room’s window is nothing more than an arrow slit with a shutter that stands almost seven feet above the ground. It is not large enough for anything but the smallest creature- It is currently shuttered and barred from the inside.

Gaunt’s corpse is crouched facing the northwest corner of the room.

[Rhunder]

Poking his head back through the doorway, Shard responds to War "I have no idea what I'm doing. But let's see how the man died. Maybe that'll help." Shard checks the body after poking it with the handle of his large hammer.

Not sure which roll to do while checking the body for a death wound so....
Search [roll0]
Heal [roll1]

[Grimtina]

The eyes of Gaunt’s corpse are open wide, and his facial muscles are locked in a visage of agony and fright. The front of his shirt is torn open. He grips a dagger stiffly in his right hand. The dagger has a bone hilt etched with strange writing. Carved deeply into the skin and muscle of Gaunt’s chest are the words “Aryth in Tiamat they come.” Given the dried blood on the dagger, and the angles of the writing, it’s obvious that Gaunt carved the message in his own skin, but the cuts are too shallow to be the cause of death.

There are other wounds on Gaunt’s body. He was obviously in a recent scuffl el. There’s a puncture wound on Gaunt’s left thigh, a slash wound on his lower back, and strange bite marks on his right calf.

Scattered around the room are all of Gaunt’s worldly possessions, including his adventuring equipment (chain shirt, longsword, buckler, light crossbow, 20 bolts, two sunrods, backpack, 50 feet of silk rope, grappling hook, his identification papers, and a pouch with 15 gp), many empty whiskey bottles, a small pouch filled with strange, soft, and spongy -almost fleshy -reflective stones and a small scrap of paper with the following address: “5a King’s Circle on Seccuran.”

[Rhunder]

Shard stares confused at the cutting on the chest. "It looks like writing, but I can't read it. Or read....." his voice trailing off.

"Is there any other ideas? Anyone?" Shard asks as he continues kicking bottles and gear.

[czieg]

The eyes of Gaunt’s corpse are open wide, and his facial muscles are locked in a visage of agony and fright. The front of his shirt is torn open. He grips a dagger stiffly in his right hand. The dagger has a bone hilt etched with strange writing. Carved deeply into the skin and muscle of Gaunt’s chest are the words “Aryth in Tiamat they come.” Given the dried blood on the dagger, and the angles of the writing, it’s obvious that Gaunt carved the message in his own skin, but the cuts are too shallow to be the cause of death.

There are other wounds on Gaunt’s body. He was obviously in a recent scuffl el. There’s a puncture wound on Gaunt’s left thigh, a slash wound on his lower back, and strange bite marks on his right calf.

Scattered around the room are all of Gaunt’s worldly possessions, including his adventuring equipment (chain shirt, longsword, buckler, light crossbow, 20 bolts, two sunrods, backpack, 50 feet of silk rope, grappling hook, his identification papers, and a pouch with 15 gp), many empty whiskey bottles, a small pouch filled with strange, soft, and spongy -almost fleshy -reflective stones and a small scrap of paper with the following address: “5a King’s Circle on Seccuran.”

War's mechanical eyes take in the entire room, identifying every possible anomaly. The warforged scans the paper, Exclamation: I have found a clue! I recommend we investigate this address, after detirmining the meaning of the message 'Aryth in Tiamat they come.'
Suprised Note: It appears he had the time for proper punctuation before his death, in that time he could have called for help but apparently didn't.

[Tylerb7]

Neris tries to think if he can connect the message "Aryth in Tiamat they come" to anything he's learned in his studies.


Knowledge (Arcana): [roll0]
Knowledge (Religion): [roll1]


Regardless of the result, he casts Detect Magic and carefully examines everything in the room, paying special attention to the bone-hilted dagger and the pouch of strange stones.

[Grimtina]

Neris has heard of a hooker called Tiamat when she isn't listening, because she's growling at people she doesn't like like a dragon. The other name.. wasn't that the famous new drink down at the docks?

A faint hint of magic lingers in the room, but it's all but gone. The dagger is an unusual design knowledge local check . The stones are as reflective as the clearest mirrors, and unlike anything you ever saw.

[Tylerb7]

"This note doesn't make much sense to me. We should go investigate that address, and soon---it's the only lead we have, and we can't let a murderer run around unchecked."

[czieg]

"This note doesn't make much sense to me. We should go investigate that address, and soon---it's the only lead we have, and we can't let a murderer run around unchecked."

Consent-ion: Agreed. We must apprehend the meatbag maker.

[Grimtina]

“Move aside! Move aside!” A woman’s voice resonates with authority and irritation, as she pushes through the crowd now blocking the hallway further away Annoyed, the stout woman looks sternly at the body, and then to you, while straightening her deep green robes with white-knuckled fists. “What in Xoriat is going on here?” As usual, humor- and friendless Matron Martra states the obvious, while making it sound that it was anything but.

[Tylerb7]

"Someone's murdered this man. These are all the clues we've found, though it isn't much," Neris said, showing her the dagger, note, and pouch of strange stones.

[Rhunder]

"That dagger is different from any weapon I've seen." Shard points at the weapon needlessly but enthusiastically.

[Grimtina]

"Yes," the woman nods, scratching her chin for a moment. "Alright, seems this looks like an investigation is needed. Excellent. It seems that you have this well in hand, so I shall task you to find how and by what agent Delvron Gaunt found his end. I also task you to assume any assignment or assignments that Gaunt was currently working on. Go to the Chamber of Messengers, and find out what those may be from Patron Helcondate. I believe he was the patron overseeing Delvron’s assignments. Easiest for all, no?" It sounds like a statement, not a question, as if her declaring it true makes it less inconvenient for anyone having different ideas. Then she swirls around and marches off, her midn probably already on other important task. Such as what to have for breakfast.

[czieg]

Query: Off to investigate the meatbag's assignments then? War takes an image of the message and stores it for memory.

[Tylerb7]

"We won't let you down!" Neris shouts after the departing matron. "We'll find whomever's responsible and bring them to justice!" She doesn't seem to notice.

He turns to his new companions. "Yes, let's hurry over to the Chamber of Messengers---we can introduce ourselves properly along the way. I'm Neris, a paladin-in-training."

[czieg]

"We won't let you down!" Neris shouts after the departing matron. "We'll find whomever's responsible and bring them to justice!" She doesn't seem to notice.

He turns to his new companions. "Yes, let's hurry over to the Chamber of Messengers---we can introduce ourselves properly along the way. I'm Neris, a paladin-in-training."

Greeting: Greetings, I'm War-Unit 051. Isn't the weather adequate today?

[Tylerb7]

"The dark cloud of murder is never adequate, my friend."

[czieg]

Confused Statement: But there is no murder cloud above us. War doesn't seem to understand metaphors.

[Rhunder]

"I'm shard. " the minotaur pointing at his chest proudly. "Which way is the chamber again? And can I keep the rocks? "

[Grimtina]

Beyond an archway with the words crowned with the engraving “Mind the Rule of the Union” is the Chamber of Messengers. The place is a small sea of enclosed wooden booths, similar to confessionals featured in some churches, only much larger. The circular chamber’s ornate domed ceiling is awash with bold and colorful mosaics detailing the accomplishments of the Diggers’ Union, crowned by its centerpiece, the creation of the union outpost in Stormreach on Xen’drik.

A single pillar encrusted with lapis lazuli supports the hall’s ceiling. At the top of the pillar, facing in the four cardinal directions, are carved heads of Aureon, the Sovereign Host god of law and knowledge, as the majestic blue dragon. Each of the Aureon’s eight eyes glows with arcane fire. The entrance of the hall is separated from the rest of the hall by a glowing semicircle on the floor.

At the entrance of the hall are almost two-dozen intricately carved Xen’drik teak stands—basically ornate bird perches. On a number of these expeditious messenger homunculi perch and wait patiently. Others fly into or out of the chamber by way of a small opening in the far ceiling (disguised in the mosaic as a porthole of a House Lyrandar Airship), or to and from the various booths around the room.

Hanging from each stand is a wooden nameplate. It doesn’t take long to find Helcondate’s stand, unfortunately his homunculus messenger is absent from it. For a moment in time, the material plane seems to stick out its tongue to you.

[CGDG]

As Breac sees the group enter and search about the messenger homonculi, seeming disappointed at the absence of one, he walks towards them.

"Fear not, friends." he says, with half a snarl, trying desperately to appear charming with an akward smile plastered on his face, "They are not so tasty to eat, I imagine." With an irritated lok on his face he says, "Not that I've managed to catch one...yet."

With a sniff of the are and peering about the group, Breac's ears perk up.


Spot check to see if any of the party members have easily visible food. [roll0]

With a look like a sad puppy, he peers at the group. "Do you..." he pauses briefly to lick his lips and smack them together quietly, "Do you have food?"

[Rhunder]

Shard pulls up one of his rations. Eye balling the smaller creature "I may have something, if you have anything worth trading..."

[Grimtina]

The Chamber of Messengers is on the first floor of Grea Tower, not far from the Hall of Masters and the tower’s main entrance. It usually sees a lot of business but today it is all quiet. They are probably all over the murder case, gossiping away.

Everyone knows the rules of the Chamber of Messengers. An initiate or journey member can call upon a patron or matron by way of their messenger. If the messenger is absent, they must wait at the entrance for it to return or try to reach the patron later. Initiate and journey members are forbidden from entering the main hall until the matron or patron gives them permission—by way of their messenger—to pass the glowing semicircle. At that point they are directed to the booth the patron or matron inhabits.

All initiate and journey members are warned that they pass the glowing semicircle uninvited at their own peril (that is the “rule of the union” the archway engraving warns them to mind), but none of the matrons or patrons hint to the nature of such peril. The defenses of the room are a constant source of speculation and the subject of wild and even whimsical stories by the lesser members of the union. Almost all the stories agree that Aureon’s Pillar plays prominently in the room’s wards. One of the weirder stories about what could happen is that your nose would tuirn into a banana or carrot, but that is just the tip of it. In any case, either no one has yet tried, or, more likely, those who did didn't live to tell about it.

In one of the booths in the room, the wanted patron is likely to be at this time, and waiting for the humunculus to return to indicate his free time could take hours.

[CGDG]

Breac approaches Shard nimbly and sniffs the ration a little. Seemingly satisfied with the ration, he comments.

"Anything will do in a pinch."

Placing a hand on the ration, but not pulling it away, he says to Shard,

"I'll perform for you one service. You can choose what it is. I'll stay with you for the day, until you've decided or it has been performed."

With a critical look, he adds,

"Nothing...you know...inapproriate."

With a smile that could shatter glass, he looks at Shard and says, with a voice like greese crackling on a hot pan,

"Agreeeeeeeeeed?"

[Tylerb7]

Neris is rather shocked to see a shifter here, of all places, but decides he must have wandered in unchallenged while people's minds were preoccupied with the murder. He feels a hint of suspicion about the shifter---no doubt the product of a small village upbringing---but suppresses it.

Neris turns to Shard. "You should give him the food. Then we can try to figure out how to contact Patron Helcondate."

[Rhunder]

Shard, confused, hesitates then hands the food over. After shivering from the chilling effect the shifter gave him, shard looks about the building.

"We could just go back there and see who is here." Shard smiling not realizing the rule.

[czieg]

Shard, confused, hesitates then hands the food over. After shivering from the chilling effect the shifter gave him, shard looks about the building.

"We could just go back there and see who is here." Shard smiling not realizing the rule.

Recommendation: Do not.

[Rhunder]

"And why not?" shard asked

[czieg]

"And why not?" shard asked

Explanation: There is a protection ward around the entrance, no one knows what happens when you cross it uninvited. Would you like to find out or would you rather wait patiently?

[Rhunder]

"Neither. They both seem like not much fun. I know, let's go to that address!"

[czieg]

"Neither. They both seem like not much fun. I know, let's go to that address!"

Query: What does fun have to do with anything?

[CGDG]

Through mouthfulls of dried meat and crackers, given to him by Shard, Breac pipes up.

"Think of it like routine maintanence for fleshbag brains. If we don't get any, we have trouble. We can't work properly."

He says, bopping himself on the side of the head to make his point.

"Get it?", he asks the Warforged.

[czieg]

Through mouthfulls of dried meat and crackers, given to him by Shard, Breac pipes up.

"Think of it like routine maintanence for fleshbag brains. If we don't get any, we have trouble. We can't work properly."

He says, bopping himself on the side of the head to make his point.

"Get it?", he asks the Warforged.

Light Irritation: I understand what 'fun' is, what I don't understand is what it has to do with a murder investigation.

[CGDG]

Breac gives only a light "Oh." in response and shrugs his shoulders.

[Rhunder]

After pondering for a moment, Shard speaks "Well, let's waste time standing around instead...." grumbling the minotaur sits down.

[Grimtina]

After a while, a few people going in and out giving you funny looks, a half-elf with really crooked looking ears comes over to ask the obvious questions. "What are you doing here? I mean, why are you doing it? Are you waiting for someone?"

[czieg]

War's eyes light up as he comes out of sleep-mode. Explanation: We wish to speak to Patron Helcondate to retrieve some information. Can you assist us?

[Rhunder]

Shard, who seems to fallen asleep waiting, slightly moves to the half elf's voice. After War answers the crooked ear being, Shard stirs a bit more before waking up. Yawning and stretching as he gets back off the floor.

[CGDG]

Standing next to Shard, Breac jabs him in the side, likely harder than he really intended, and whispers,

"So, who's this Patron Helcondate and why are you after him?"

[Grimtina]

The half-elf ponders for a moment, then a mischievious grin spreads over his face. "Of course, let me get him for you." Then he leaves, chuckling to himself. He talks to someone in a boot a bit back, and a lound, annoyed voice answers. Then a fat little human limps out of the boot, squinting his eyes through two mococles, which looks more like an owl brooding. "Yes, yes," he barks. "What do you want? Callor here assures me it is urgent?" He turns to point to the half-elf, but the guy is gone, his chuckling can be heard somewhere still. "Or maybe it is not and he played me, but while I am here, what is it you need? It better be impotent.. err important!"

[Rhunder]

From the jab, Shard nearly growls at Breac "He's in charge of assignments or something like that."

As the Patron finished his sentence, Shard responds to him "Delvron Gaunt has been killed. We were sent to look into whatever you had him doing." sounding almost accusing, probably due to the fact he was jabbed and just woke up.

[Grimtina]

"Gaunt, eh... not too surprising. Alright, wait here for a moment."

Not too long, he returns with a middle aged human who looks kind of distracted. "So, Gaunt is dead and you are hoping to solve the matter, then. Very well, how can I help?"

[Rhunder]

The minotaur grinds his teeth and relates the information again "We are looking for whatever Gaunt was assigned because it may have gotten him killed."

[Grimtina]

"Ah, yes. While I would usually not wonder, I doubt his current work had anything to do with it. Delvron Gaunt was working for Professor Kelmini, chair of the Department of Antiquities at Morgrave University. The nature of the work was between the professor and Gaunt, but I believe it had to do with the retrieval of a dragonshard of particular historical importance." Slightly nervous, the man continues. "He's been getting more and more sloppy lately, personally, I think he's been hugging the bottle way too much."