Gestalt, Iron Gods and Deicide - IC Thread

[Ruess]

Hello players and readers. This is the IC thread for the adventure Iron Gods.

You can find the OOC thread here (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?558824-Gestalt-Iron-Gods-and-Deicide-OOC-Thread&p=23073459).

Kindly hold from posting, I need to somehow kick the entry post up.

And I shall do it tomorrow. For in about thirty minutes I shall be dead to the world. As in dead tired.

[Ruess]

Torch.

It’s hot.

That is as much an absolute fact as the very ground you are standing/treading on.

On balance you could blame in on the season being what it is given how weather ebbs as it always does this time of the year, but it does not make the heavy air any less worse than what it is; you could blame it on the lack of wind in the air, maybe you could even remark to someone how something to do with the wind is making the entire curtain of heat drape itself all over your shoulders as if it were some gargantuan feathered monster making a nest right on top of you for the sole reason to be spiteful; you could guess something about rain or lack thereof, but you would have to dig up something scholastic to make guesses on that, albeit every bit of your mind is sure that the fact you have not spied a single shred of cloud whiteness has something to do with all this.

As for the town of Torch in which you are presently on this sunlit early mid-day, it is not all that glorious: it is smaller than a city, and lacks many of the finer things you know a city could feature. The streets are bare rather than paved well with rocks or bricks, the architecture of the town itself is uninspiring overall and rather crowded, the colors are material ones and though there are banners as well as décor it all lacks a certain something. Certainly Torch has its industry so it is not a shanty town but not even the famous Black Hill with its metal industry saves it from a tad dismal look.

You are not in direct sunlight as you were smart enough to duck into one of the countless shades provided by the local architecture and even moreso the inhabitants who make a point to have refreshments for sale – one sales-cleric even having a free fountain of quite modest size wherein cold water is for free. The air is thick with heat, and you would swear you have ten pounds of sand on your clothes as well as in-between them, and then a whole heap in your boots just because.

Then of course there is the fact that Black Hill has seen its famous purple flame go out. Just like that. With the flame went the town’s livelihood in one snap moment that took away most if not all business – including waste disposal. And that particular problem is literally stinking up the town.

Quite frankly the people are growing worried, so much that you would swear you heard at least a few people nearing full panic. Worse still is that a few important people have vanished on an expedition that was supposed to find answers to this problem with flames, and that detail in turn is fanning the flames of alarm among the populace despite the meager efforts of what you could charitably call a town guard. On top of all that, you discovered rapidly upon arrival that the city council has a rather large sum of money available for anyone who brings them answers on the aforementioned expedition, as well as even more to offer to any truly adventurous soul.

That leaves your sunbaked person somewhat stuck in a town that is close to panick, denied most of the industry that you were supposed to have access to, and even though you are in questionable company in this place you do think you could look for opportunity be it ones you learned of...or maybe there is even more to be found here in the town of Torch? You could maybe hunt your own agenda alongside local interests.

[Sønderjye]

Whispers were sitting on the passanger seat as Jerald, a trader by profession, drove into town. The elves had made arrangements for Jerald to take care of him the first week in Torch and to show him the robes, a trade the merchant happily had accepted when he had been offered one of the rare ocuta fruits. The same trade had also gained Whiskers the gun on his lap. The treasure that eventually would let him surpass his elven family. Or at least so he hoped.

His eyes darted all over the many novel sights in the city - eating, no, devouring all of it. The houses weren't big per say, not compared to home anyway, but they weren't made of wood. He were impressed that Jerald's people had been able to grow those stony hard things. It seemed like the material were similar to the one his gun were made from and he couldn't wait to learn to grow it himself.

"So.." he said to Jerald: "Tell me about this town. Where to go, where to avoid, where can I learn how to make firearms?"

[CrystalMists]

Coming into town, Istara first notices from a distance the lack of the flame up on top of Torch. She spends a few days worried about whats going on as she walks her way to town. A little while before she enters the city; she dons her raven mask and pulls up the hood of her cloak.

*How long has it been out?* she wonders to herself; as it's been a year since she actually wandered towards torch's area. As much as she'd like to first wander towards the city center to find out what happened; first she heads towards the market to sell usable pieces of the robots she's spent the last year hunting down and get her gear replaced and repaired. Overall she keeps to herself, since the Technic League is still a big part of the cities culture; even while she heads to the city hall area to see if she can get some gossip on whats going on with the torch and if anything is being done about it.

[Ruess]

Whiskers
Your elven friend Jerald favors you with one of his casual smiles but holds his attention on the cart and the horse that the pair of you have used to arrive here, and also to haul in this occasion's wares that are to be sold. That Jerald's relative is snoring atop the boxes and crates with the laziness of a housecat is one oddity in the plan but at least the lazybones is a free watchman for the wares if and when you pointy-eared friend must head out to drum up business.

Presently Jerald keeps his eyes upon your surroundings, and especially on the populace who seem to be keenly moving in groups that glance about. And, you think you see him discretely wrinkle his nose at the offensive aroma pervading the general air of the town. "The first and easiest rule is to remain in the wide public places. It is easy enough to manage given how Torch is more or less a large grouping of open spaces that businesses are built around" Jerald begins. His voice is steady and calm, much like a slow song might be. "AS long as you are not a publicly hunted criminal nothing will be too much of a worry, and sign posts such as that." He points at a particular wooden pole stuck on the traffic near a tailor shop perched on a wooden platform. "Provide directions if you are ever lost. For better recalling I recommend a local map." Then he pauses for breath and guides the horse to another lane towards the general market. "The only warning I can offer is to remain clear of the town's outest areas. They are run down ruins of thieves and murderers." Again he pauses, although this time it is to halt lest some oafish looking orc toughs crossing the street give you two trouble. Clearing his throat, he whispers to you afterwards. "Guns are not my better area, but you could find more from a gunsmith named Garrote who has a shop near the hill where the flame is, the shop is distinctly made and located beside a small river of magma."


Istara
A disguise with a hood and mask draws attention from more than a few types once you leave the outer slums where no one would give you a second glance. The public market areas that you make uses of prove easy enough to find and make your sales in without overt attention but the repairs from someone competent who also has a working workshop...now that was a bit of a challenge but you think you managed well enough.

As for gossip and city hall... That is where things get more interesting.

(Pending dice results~)

[The Shadowmind]

Harset attempts to brush the sand out of her feathers, in a what is ultimately a futile effect. Noticing the weight of her canteen, or more importantly the lack of weight in her canteen, the young Ibis-women gives a disappointed sigh. With her wide eyes, she spots the fountain and then she goes to fill the container at the free fountain, while giving a frustrated grumblings out loud. Where are they supposed to be back to get the Flame Running again?". She spoke loud enough for anyone to hear, but at no one in particular.

[Sønderjye]

"Thanks", Whiskers beamed to the older trader: "Where do I find you afterwards?"

Assuming that was sorted out he crawls into the wagon to grap his stuff. "See you later Jerald", he says as he graps his bag. "And you too, you vigilant sentinel", he continues to the snoring entity. He then gracefully jumps out of the wagon and heads out to find Garrote.

[In4Dimensions]

A young man, roughly 15 years of age, is currently running from tavern to tavern, asking about adventurers. The boy has short black hair, a rather thin physique, and piercing teal eyes. All in all, most of the local girls (he’s a local too) find him quite attractive. Currently, though, his face is flushed from running, and his palms are slightly sweaty. He throws open the door of a bar that’s known as an attractive place for locals and visitors alike. He walks around each table, asking Adventurers? Any of you adventurers?

[Ruess]

Harset
"Yeah, when are they fixing that...whatever block it is they said?" A stout and sour looking dwarf of hardy looks raises his eyes from his tankard and stands up. He was sitting on a pile of boxes not far away from the water shrine, and now looks in the general direction of where he thinks people are milling about, which in turn happens to be in the vicinity of the water fountain. "I've got a heap of metal I was ordered to deliver, but that skinflint Sky-whathisface refuses the order so long as her forge goes cold! I'm not some miracle worker, I'm a courier with a wife and a daughter to feed!"

"Shut up Flint, the city council is working on it!"someone quite near you shouts from the throng. It sounds like a woman, but a young one at that, and a bit soft too. "They just need someone more capable than...well, someone sober. Do something and help, or sit down and shut up."

This Flint person gives an angry growl but sits on his box pile sullenly. You would swear you hear several unkind words from him, and many of them echoed in the general population in the surrounding area. You also think you notice the clergy person sharing out the water taking particular notice of this exchange, although that particular person gives no indication of their own opinion unless you count a shallow attempt at smile being one.


Whiskers
Luck smiles on you: Garrote's workshop proves easy enough to find with Jerold's instructions and a waved hand in mind. It is a large three-story house that it is entirely made from solid rock pieces with cracks that are filled with what looks like melted metal that shines when daylight hits it. A modest yard sits around the building proper but entrance is barred with a spike-topped iron-fence with a gate but you find it open, and behind that an inexplicably large iron-reinforced door atop a set of stairs. The garden in the yard is small but also rife with metal scrap everywhere.


You will find Jerold situated next to Raven's Pit, near the private well the owners of Raven's Pit have dug on the front yard. You can't miss it, Raven's Pit looks as black as a pitch-covered raven and leans as if the building itself is drunk. It is the only establishment that has its own private water well on its front yard as well.


Andre
You have some luck in finding a group in the establishment right away: a group of three merrily drunks dwarves of the feminine persuasion and a growly orc man larger than life. He, with tusks like daggers and eyes like furnaces, demands to hear your business. You have interrupted them in the middle of important drunken-getting.

Being as you are a local and thus a known face you are not given more than a glance by the barman, or by the staff who see to the catering. But you are given a few rather lingering looks by more than one pair of eyes who rather quite do like what they see.


Istara
You are rather fortunate. You draw looks in your hooded get-up but you learn rather much in your foray.

Firstly, the city hall is a glorified house. It may be big and posh but it is also cramped as all get-out, and moreover there is a distinct reek of bureaucracy in all its functions staring with the very fact that in the lobby you found an information desk where an old fat man wasted several bouts of your time before getting nowwhere at all.

Secondly you learned that the fire has gone out of the hill, and no one knows why.

Thirdly, there are some suspicions that the city council holds but they are keeping it close to their chest because they suspect it is involved in something risky rather than being something ordinate like a blockage in the ordinary functions of the flame.

Fourthly, the city is soon going to descend into chaos if no one does anything.

Fifthly and lastly but certainly also the worst: someone already tried to lead an expedition to discovering answers. And they have not returned despite a very long absence already. This worried the council enough that they have raised a substantial sum of gold to offer to anyone who brings them solid, proven information of what befell the expedition.

You also learn that you really ought to forgo any request for assistance from that supposed clerk on the front desk, and go straight into the council room if and when you wish to speak with any of the members, No one seems to be of the mind to demand your business no matter where you go.

[Sønderjye]

Whiskers smile back.

He can feel the excitement bubbling to the surface as he enters through the open door. He had been about as excited when he left the woods but this! This was much closer to the real deal. Now he just had to convince someone to teach him how to grow the metal!

"Anybody here? I want to learn how to grow guns!", he shouts to the empty garden.

[CrystalMists]

Istara:

*Ugh; the council. Probably a member of the Technic League in that; Not sure if I can go talk to them myself safely* Istara thinks to herself.

She wanders outside and finds a spot she can see the council houses doors from and looks for somebody of the adventure type to wander that way so she can offer her services to afterwards; if something happened to the torch and knowing the area, There is probably technology involved that should not get into the Technic Leagues hands.

[The Shadowmind]

Harset takes cautious steps towards the clergy, Um, excuse me, do you know where I could find out more information at? She turns to the agitated crowd, "I'm sorry for getting everyone riled up.

[Ruess]

Harset
The clerical individual managing the fountain and its water looks a little surprised to be so addressed by you but seems to shrug it off quite easily. "It is alright, miss," this person offers you with a friendly tone. They do speak rather quietly, you notice, but at least they look at you while speaking to you. "You meant no harm. But I fear I must ask, what would you wish to learn more of? I'm afraid I don't know whether to refer you to the library, the archives, or the scholar circle."




Whiskers
There comes no answer to your call: not from a single voice in the yard. Not even the plants rustle in greeting. The air is stilled amd unmoving, the temperature of the day still lingers around you like a heated glare, and a little bit of dirt crumbles underneath your feet. Beyond that it is all still like a frozen pond. You are sure a small breeze would put a lot of life in this garden, but there being none leaves it still as statue.




Istara
It is not long before you find yourself in a nicely shaded spot on a public library's balcnoy with an excellent view down to the entrance gate that leads to the city hall's maze-like interior. Down on the street you spy a great many persons of mild to modest interest but none truly hold that spark of adventure. Often they look near it, yet you feel little when you observe them; some are tall, some are short, some limp with a broken leg, some barely stand up right, none truly look happy. And they stick out always, few in positive manner, and in the crowds of people you do not see all too many possible heroes.

[Sønderjye]

Whiskers cautiously moves into the garden, being ready to jump backwards if anything suddenly approached him. His experience with walking into private seemingly abandoned spaces had been painful but hopefully this would be different than with the elves. He wasn't too hopeful but the desire to grow guns overrode his fear. When he reaches the doors he will knock a few heavy knocks on them with his iron gauntlet.

[CrystalMists]

Istara (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1572888)

"Time to get more active about finding out whats going on I think" Istara says to nobody in particular.

With that she wanders off to visit some of Torches main sites; First The black hill and talks to a few workers there. She ask questions like "does anybody know what happened? Anything being done about it? Do you know anything about the first venture to find out I heard about from the Council house?"

She follows up with visits to the Torch Guildhouse and Temple of Brigh. If she finds no good folllowing leads there, She starts to head off to the Taverns, Starting with the Foundry

I'm going to take the offer of Taking 10.

So Knowledge Local: 17 (No inspiration Boost since taking 10)
Diplomacy: 10

and a few various rolls if needed to fill in the blanks.

Knowledge (Religion): [roll0]

Knowledge (Engineering) [roll1]

Knowledge (Arcana)[roll2]

[The Shadowmind]

"I'm sorry ah...", Harset paused as she tired to figure out what the symbols on the clergy's vestments where. Her wings twitched as the name of the god or goddess was on the tip of her beak, but it wouldn't come.

Harset tried to regain her train of thought,"I'm sorry, while all those seems something I would like to visit, eventually. And, they would help with my research mission, what I need to know in the immediate, is who is in charge of finding out how to relight the flame, and where can I find them.

[In4Dimensions]

Andre looks nervously at the orc. I’m so sorry to disturb you, Mr. Orc. Please, continue with your festivities. Andre looks around the room again. Everyone else: my, uh, parents supposedly died in an accident outside of town, and their bodies were never recovered. I’ve been trying to find a few people who would want to help me find my parents’ bodies, but unfortunately, I can’t really pay you in any significant amount. Is- is anyone interested?

[Ruess]

Harset
"I recommend visiting our City Hall", bids this clerical person. You are given directions forthwith, and believe that they are easy enough to follow that you will not get lost be it night or day. "The councilors have information available for those who wish to act while they do their best to maintain peace and find solutions. If you need assistance they will surely be of assistance or know whom you should call upon if they cannot offer help or gear." The cleric offers a follow-up shrug with little motion in it. "I personally would not know. I am but an apprentice..." There is a pause and they look most perplexed. "Or is that adept? A depte? Ahh, I forget."



Whiskers
Nothing jumps out to you, and you find no guardians challenging your arrival, so youpass through the yard without anything happening. Once you knock on the door, it takes a few whiles before you hear a muffled voices calling a reply to you. "Coming!", your ears pick up from the other side of the door; it is soon enough followed by bootsteps and then creaking of gears that see the door opening. The heavy door groans substantially as it swings inwards to reveal the form of a scarred looking aged man in plain clothes: his face is scarred by hideous burns all across, his clothes are dyed black or covered in soot, and he has a heavy air of burning all over himself. He offers you a rough looking arm with muscle and sinew standing out on its form in equal degree. "Garrote Underhill, at your service. How can I be of service?" he bids you in a warm voice.



Istara
You are quite fortunate. You discover loose ends, hints, vague rumors, overhead bits of whispered converations and pull it all together. In total you are able to learn the following. (You are not absolutely willing to swear this is all absolutely true...)

+The Flame that resides in the Black Hill went out very recently, but the town is in tizzy already. (That means a lot of people are either in desperate need of money or everyone in this town is full of greed.)

+Torch's Guildhall is experiencing turbulent times due to this terrible drop in business. Someone has been waving gold around in sweet promises and that makes a lot of people nervous because the timing could not be more auspicious.

+The Tecnic League is not liked in Torch due to the heavy taxes and tariffs they demand from Torch: if Torch cannot restore the flame then something Very Bad will come from it. (You know for certain that this is theoretically legal if heartlessly cruel, and that they could turn Torch to most terrifying purposes with the workforce and tools that Torch contains.)

+Brave persons have attempted to explore the Black Hill. It has a cavern sustem underneath its bulbous shape - none have returned from that place. And the more people go missing the fewer there are volunteers left.

+The city council arranged an expedition, lead by a very prominent person of skill and talent and power named Councilor Khonnir Baine. That expedition has not been heard of since, and this worries the entire council.

+As soon as the flame went out the population has begun to experience headaches. It is a very small fraction of population but they nevertheless develop headaches - and from those who suffered from this it is rumored that one went entirely insane.

+The Technic League has spies in Torch. At least two of them, maybe more, and one of them is elbow-deeply involved in this.

+Rumor claims that Technic League in fact made all this happen: this is all a part of their plan to literally own the entirety of Torch, and then the lands around it.

+The Foundry, both the tavern and the business, is closed for business until this entire mess with the flame is resolved.


You are left soon after in the vicinity of the City Hall with questions and whispers to keep you company after your latest informant makes to vanish into crowd. It is certain that someone has to do something very soon before things begin to move on their own with all the goodwill of a sandstorm.


Andre
"Sorry, little guy, but without decent pay your're outta luck," growls the orc but not harshly. Judging by the looks on everyone's faces which grew visible the moment you admitted you have no large sum to offer you have few options left. "Look at the city hall if ya need heroes. We're tired, grouchy and disappointed as is." Pausing to spit on the floor, the orc sighs but he does point at the bartender who is a reed-thin elf with a missing ear. "If you're desperate ask Silan fer people with spirit left. Might be that the twig knows. I just want to get wasted now, so scram."

[Sønderjye]

Whiskers had been slowly moving forward, testing the ground out before moving one step more ahead.

"I'm Whiskers, pleasure meeting you Gerrote", he says as he shakes the muscled mans hand, hoping his own will survive the exchange. He gestures towards his two guns as he continues: "I would like to learn how to grow these and I was told recommended to go to you. Would you be willing to teach me?"

[Ruess]

Whiskers
Garrote grips your hand readily and he does so with a solid grip; it is quite like curling your hand around a chunk of mountain ore: it is neither kind nor unkind, it just is, a little cold to touch and definitely unyielding but nor is there any force that feel like it is turning your hand to mush. As you shake hands he gives you a solid look-over. His eyes linger distinctly on your musculature and he raises a burn eyebrow at how you are clearly taller of the two of you. "Come on in then, please leave your boots and coat in the racks," he bids you and steps aside to let you enter a compact lobby beyond which you spy a sparsely furnished general area. "I am obviously Garrote Underhill but may I know who I am doing business with and how you came to my workshop? A friend recommended me?"

[Sønderjye]

Whiskers feels his muscles tense and his brain going into alert as his hand is trapped but relaxes as it's released. He shifts uncomfortably under the scrutiny of his person.

"Thank you," he says with a respectful bow before he takes of his boots and coats off and carefully put them where directed. He knew that he was asking for much and that the smith might reject him, so he was careful of being extra respectful.

"I am X'travor son of Ashendor though I normally go by Whiskers," he introduces himself. "I arrived in Torch, coming from Taiga Yak, known to your people as the Darkwoods, and I came to learn the secrets of growing these", he takes a gun out of its container and places it on the table: "A trader with name Jerald recommended that I should take contact with you. What else do you want to know?"

[The Shadowmind]

Harset pays careful consideration to the adept's? description of the city, committing the instructions to her memory. "Thank you for your kindness, Brother-Adept-A depte," as she stumble with her words, then she digs through her backpack and pulls out a gold coin, "Here, a donation for the Church-Temple-Thingy, I'm sorry I don't have more, but I spent most of my funds getting to Torch"

After was is probably an awkward farewell, she sets a course directly to the City Hall, or until she gets interrupted by something.

[Ruess]

Whiskers
“We are good to get into business, my good man,” Garrote waves you into his home and motions you: past the compact entrance and then through a lobby he waves you to a neat looking living room where you are indicated to seat yourself on the furniture that consists of a sofa and three chairs. Garrote himself remains standing and clears his throat. “So, first things first. The tools you speak of are manufactured rather than grown so I’m sorry to have to tell you that but I will be happy to teach you the ins and outs of the machinery so that you can create and maintain your very own tools for whatever purpose – although I do need payments for lessons. Taxes have gone up and I definitely did not need yet another drain on my income.” He pauses to raise a finger rather pointedly, likely seeking to forestall your response. “However, it is important to note that you are recommended by a friend and I know Jerald from a while back, so we can look into the repayment arrangements later, by either cash or some favors if you prefer taking action instead of trading in currencies.” He shrugs. “Either way works for me. I’m a touch busy right today so I cannot offer lessons right away, but feel free to ask questions. I have a few hours left.”


Harset
You manage to make your way to the city hall. It is not all that impressive truth be told; it is neither grand nor great, and you would not really call it well looking either but it is as least distinctive enough to stand out on more merit than size alone.

There is a large large mob of unhappy people milling about in a clatter of noise but no one seems set on any particular form of action, and you also spy several individuals loitering in the general vicinity of the entrance but they too are just idling around or busy with activity that still sees them overlooking the site quite well.