Progress and Plight

[Shiny, Bearer of the Pokystick]

The jammer known as Harath's Pride may once, indeed, have been a vessel to inspire pride, or even envy. Traces of this may be seen in the fading crimson of its painted beams, in the gilt tracery on those areas of the ship sufficiently inaccessible to be beyond the reach of those to whom gilt is another word for 'raw money'. It resembles a treasure galleon whose cargo has long since been offloaded, a relic of some forgotten extraplanar empire. Only the high brass aerials of its phlogiston drives still gleam, taking the place of sails.

In the present time, however, it stinks of the rats that power its blood helm, and the passengers; a great, surging tide of humanity lugging framed packs, triple-locked steamer trunks of merchandise or family heirlooms; a crowd doing its best to avoid eye contact with one another, save in those few cases where those seeking the same village huddle together. You, and those with you, are more similar to the latter group than the former, albeit not by much; you have destination in mind.

It can be seen about a mile away, rising like a clenched fist whose fingers are so bony the menace thereof is insubstantial; even at this distance it looks inelegant, an agglomeration of cubes and cylinders, half of pale stone, half of dark basalt, portions even consisting of deeply stained wood. Its buttresses do not so much fly as hunch, or perhaps wallow. Figures can dimly be discerned pacing the battlements; torches flicker with an unhealthful green radiance.

"It's the fen-wind, you know."
Your guide speaks up; nearly toothless despite his youth, with a panoply of pale scars across his chin, lip, and jaw. His arms are the wiry punching-cannons of a veteran bar brawler, but he bears no steel and stands furtively, without any of the pride of a true warrior.

"The torches are fed from the marshes below the castle; old Raun, he would never drain them. Just roofed them over and used the breath of the marsh to heat his old house..."
He chuckles even as he waves you deeper into a warren of streets; the lines of statues in heroic pose speak to your route- a winding path through the temple district. The streets are crowded, despite an omnipresent chill and dampness, and the horned mouths that sprout from the concrete every so often. These hold clear water, though by the preponderance of weeds it should be brackish.

"And the cleanse-weed was his too...it'll poison food, but water it purifies. He's the one what kept that, bless him..."
The pugilist falls silent under the stern gaze of a group of short-haired women, each bearing a barbed polearm; behind them, a group of much less serious, and more luxuriantly coiffed, young ladies lounges and beckons.

_____________________________________

Long moments after you began wending your way through the city, you reach the outer barrier of the palace; a solid wall not of rock or wood, but of people. Market stalls hawking every conceivable commodity front the palace proper, a confection of stone, copper, and ironwood. What would, on a lighter edifice, be called something akin to 'gingerbread molding' seems to edge the windows of the upper stories, and balconies encrust the building like mushroom on a rotting log. Your destination, however, is a great gate, built much like the horned mouths that sprout from the city's byways. One is, apparently, supposed to enter Raun's palace through his gullet...swallowed up into his vision.

[Fax Celestis]

Silence smiles a thin smile and stretches her arms above her head as she walks through the streets. "Ah, it's good to be home," she says with only a little sarcasm.

She wears a black dress, cut straight with a high collar that has a leather bodice built in and long black sleeves. She keeps her hair out of her eyes by way of a long braid down the middle of her back. A pair of crescent moon glasses perches upon her nose, and two curious contraptions that appear to be loaded with wands sit on her wrists. Attached to her belt hangs a punching dagger that gleams with a silvery light, and she tromps on the pavement with boots designed for function rather than form. Across her shoulders rests a black-grey cloak velvet cloak, and around her throat hangs a golden pendant with a sizable chunk of amber as a centerpiece.

She has a sort of magnetism, for those who like bookish types. Her long, lithe fingers speak of incredible fine-motor control, and her pallor and demeanor display someone who is physically fit. Her eyes bely a shining intelligence, and it is this that stands out more than any other single aspect of her being.

[Pyroconstruct]

Aloysius, intent on making a good first impression, had washed, pressed, and polished his attire to perfection before disembarking. Although somewhat dirtied by his walk through the crowds and dust of the city, he stood out from most of the other travelers.

Aloysius had dressed both for appearance and for combat - although he had no intention of fighting within the palace, it seemed an appropriate way to advertise himself as a professional soldier. Besides, he had nowhere to leave his armor, and it was easier to wear than to carry.

He had a peaked metal helmet strapped to his head under his chin, hiding his somewhat graying hair from sight. His chin was freshly clean-shaven, setting off his bristly black mustache, carefully combed. He wore a simple but well-made uniform from his days as a soldier underneath a metal breastplate, although with a crowd to pass through he had left his spiked greaves and arm-braces wrapped up in his pack. His shield was concealed on his back underneath his cloak, but a pike somewhat larger than himself protruded over his shoulder.

He walked briskly through the crowd, neither stopping to gawk nor sneering in disdain at the palace, but once he got through the crowd and into the "mouth" of the entryway, he began watching for other entrants to the palace, thinking it a smart move to be aware of what other fortune-seekers might also have arrived.

[OOC: Is Silence inside the "mouth" part of the gate, yet? Or should I not assume so? If she is, Aloysius might try to talk to her.]

[Fax Celestis]

OOC:She's inside it. Talk away.

[Pyroconstruct]

As Aloysius watched for any other unusual-looking entrants to the castle, he noticed Silence. He quickly took note of her wand bracer, practical clothing, and an apparent glow of cleverness that he instinctively recognized. He thought she'd been on the Harath's Pride, although they hadn't spoken, but since she seemed to have the same destination, Aloysius decided to approach and introduce himself.

"Good day, madam. I don't believe we've been properly introduced, although I recognize you from the Harath's Pride. Aloysius Focht, at your service." He paused to give her a chance to reply, and then continued.

[OOC: If you want to reply to the first part seperately, go ahead, if not, he'll continue talking after waiting for a few moments].

"It seems that we've both the intention to introduce ourselves to the current government. I gather from your choice of attire that you, like myself, have traveled across the phlogiston in search of excitement, rather than business or vacationing. Am I correct?

[Kellus]

Anshar looks up at the palace carefully, impressed and somewhat intrigued by the architecture. He's dressed, as ever, in carefully tailored layers of red and grey and black. He wears no armour, but the light of the sun and of the marsh-torches seems somewhat diminished around him. A short sword hangs at his hip, casting a shadow darker than night itself. The short selkie's only concession to ornamentation is a black and white collar cinched tightly around his throat that leeches light and colour from the ambient air.

Gazing at the gullet-gate, Anshar frowns slightly and murmurs audibly to thin air. "A dead king who devours his visitors... not the most favourable omen to hope for." He grins slightly as he hears whispers of fates to come. Just as well, really, that he sacrificed that farmer on the ship. Left alone, he would have been one common man among a million. In Anshar's hands his life would play a much more interesting role that it ever would have otherwise.

He looks around at the throng, catching eyes and grinning handsomely. He smiles idly, wondering who the next person to learn from him might be.

[deathbyhokie]

Tod finally pushes his way through the crowd, and comes into view of the castle's mouth. The most noticeable thing is the hat. It's large. Red. Wide-brimmed. There's a band of zebra stripes on it. And an obnoxiously long feather arching back, still subject to the waves of the crowd. It's the kind of hat that no sane person would wear, and it draws an inordinate amount of attention.

What lies below the hat is much less conspicuous. A gnome, about average height for their kind stands wrapped in a cute little robe. The glint of metal can be seen through the opening in the robe, both on his hip and his chest.

He turns back towards the crowd briefly, scanning, as if he lost something. Apparently not finding it, he turns back towards the palace, and walks forward. A few paces from the mouth he stops, squints at Silence, and then exclaims

Silence?! Is that you? It’s been much too long m’dear! Are you to be part of this endeavor?

He removes the spectacle of headwear, and bows to the lady. As he places the hat back on his head, he turns to the clean cut gentleman standing next to his old friend

I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure of meeting sir. Since I assume you’ll be joining us as well, we might as well get introductions out of the way. I am Tod von Zauerberei, problemsolver for hire.

The gnome extends a small hand outward

[Assuming you shake his hand, he’ll say]

I believe there is at least one more. One good part about the small stature is the increased mobility in a crowd. Dentin is back there somewhere, I hope. The man can find his way through a quagmire, but he’s completely lost once you get him in a crowd.


Edit: Ninjaed!

Tod will direct that introduction to both of the people he doesn't know, rather than just the one.

[Pyroconstruct]

Silence?! Is that you? It’s been much too long m’dear! Are you to be part of this endeavor?

He removes the spectacle of headwear, and bows to the lady. As he places the hat back on his head, he turns to the clean cut gentleman standing next to his old friend

I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure of meeting sir. Since I assume you’ll be joining us as well, we might as well get introductions out of the way. I am Tod von Zauerberei, problemsolver for hire.

The gnome extends a small hand outward

[Assuming you shake his hand, he’ll say]


Aloysius raised his eyebrow in amusement at the flamboyantly attired gnome, but accepted the handshake. "Pleased to meet you. Aloysius Focht, of the same profession as yourself. However, myself and Silence have only just met."





I believe there is at least one more. One good part about the small stature is the increased mobility in a crowd. Dentin is back there somewhere, I hope. The man can find his way through a quagmire, but he’s completely lost once you get him in a crowd.



"This Dentin fellow you mention, a woodsman? Is he a human, bit shorter than me, brownish hair? I believe we may have already met. First-rate chap."

[Kellus]

Anshar smiles as he accepts the handshake. "The name's Anshar," he says down to the elaborate hat. "Are you expecting to meet many zebras, Mr. Zauerberei?"

[Shiny, Bearer of the Pokystick]

OOC and Recommended Checks:

Next update as soon as Dentin posts.

Spot and search checks may be made.
Knowledge checks may be made to enlighten you regarding the castle itself.

Also, before anyone asks, your guide has departed, having only been paid to lead you to the Gullet. You all had the same guide, who escorted you and a good many others, though most of the latter were dropped off before reaching the castle.

[Pyroconstruct]

Tech:

Awareness: [roll0]
Search: [roll1]
Knowledge: Local (I'm not sure if I'd need Nobility instead, or if that would be more about the nobility and less about the location) [roll2]

[Kellus]

Awareness: [roll0]
Search: [roll1]
Knowledge (architecture and engineering) [Whispers]: [roll2]

The last is to determine interesting architectural features of the palace, and to notice any ideal escape routes should things go sour.

[deathbyhokie]

"This Dentin fellow you mention, a woodsman? Is he a human, bit shorter than me, brownish hair? I believe we may have already met. First-rate chap."

Yes, that certainly sounds like the Dentin I know. I'm certain he should come bursting through the crowd any second now, and then we will know for certain.


"Are you expecting to meet many zebras, Mr. Zauerberei?"

Alas, no. I've only met one in my life, but he was quite a nice fellow. Tod raises the brim of the hat a little. Even lent me his lucky hat. Sadly, it seems that the hat really was lucky for him, as he died shortly thereafter. Zebras lead a brutal life, I'm told.


Awareness: [roll0]
Search: [roll1]
If Know(Arcana) will be of use: [roll2]

[Fax Celestis]

"I am indeed, Tod. Good to be seeing you again, and I'm glad to see we'll have some actual talent on this endeavour. I don't suppose there's really a better word for it than that, is there?"

Turning to Aloysius, she continues, "As you've no doubt overheard from my diminutive compatriot here, my name is Silence Mordekai. I am indeed seeking gainful employment. Whether or not I will find it is another thing entirely." Idly as she speaks, she flicks a wand forwards into her hands from her left bracer, motions with it, and replaces it back into the spring-loaded contraption.1

Rolls: Knowledge (Arcana): 1d20+12=29; Knowledge (The Planes): 1d20+12=30; Gather Information (untrained): 1d20+4=5; Awareness: 1d20+8=15; Knowledge (Local) (untrained): 1d20+4=6; Use Magic Device: 1d20+18=21) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/1512218/)
1Silence has used a charge from her wand of comprehend languages, which will last for ten minutes and allow her to understand the spoken words of creatures she touches or nonmagical written words she touches for the next ten minutes.

[Greyen]

Dentin

Mr. Tod, here you are. I thought I was going to be stuck in that infernal cabin forever. That woman would not shut up.

You all can hear the boistrous and resonant tones of Dentin long before you can see him. The stream of words coming from him sounds dismayed, which is odd for those that know the ever optimistic man.

Stepping from the stream of bodies he walks up to the group in all of his woodsy glory. Greatings travelers great and small, I am Dentin and .... He pauses as he steps up behind Tod looking at every one gathered critically for a moment I know you, and you, and you Mr. Tod of course, but you I do not.

He turns first to Aloysius, grinningly saying Good sir, nice to meet you again. Are we all here on this same endeavor?

Then to Silence with a hint of seriousness in his voice, offering her his hand (kissing the backs of her fingers if given) M'lady, nice to meet you again. Hopefully we can work together better than we worked against each other? No hard feelings I hope.

Then turning to Anshar as he crosses gaze with Tod. Even after many days being trapped on the trap freighter haven't dimmed this man's enthusiam or optimism. Mr. Tod, of course. And you sir, I have never met. Like I said I am Dentin Ness, hunter and generally likable guy. May I ask whom you are? He offers his hand to Anshar.

Dressed like a classic woodsman , he wears well worn and stained doesking breeches and a mottled green enamaled chain shirt. A small sword hangs from his side opposite a well maintained quiver of arrows. He walks with the bow in hand, unstrung for now. Leather boots and bracers are all finely crafted, but the colorations and wear on them speak of heavy use. You can still smell the forest on him, even after being trapped in the freighter for at least a week.

[Shiny, Bearer of the Pokystick]

Roll Results:

Search (DC 15): The Castle Gates have a number of what are, descriptively enough, called 'murder holes'. The majority appear to be designed for the convenience of human defenders, but some at least are for less sentient defenses- perhaps acid, fire, or other baleful substances.

Awareness (DC 20): Along the darkened, heavily mosaic-covered gullet corridor, about thirty feet in, a hunched man in the ink-stained robes of a dedicated scribe appears to be beckoning to you and hissing softly through tea-stained teeth.
A group of armored men, carrying the bills traditional to underpaid guardsmen everywhere, are also scanning the crowd, though not beckoning- yet. They don't seem to have seen you.

Both man and guards bear the symbol of the Yuran faith on their clothing.

Knowledge (Local, DC 20): The king's old palace is the subject of widespread betting in the undercity, and widespread wagering in the upper city, which is similar to betting but higher-class. The subjects are twofold; first, which of the factions within the castle will hold it this week?
And second, when will the damnable thing fall down?

Knowledge (Architecture, DC 25): The Palace is a wonder of engineering, in that it should have collapsed a considerable time previously. That it hasn't is testimony to the fly-by-night addition of buttresses, support columns, emergency weight shifts, reinforcements, and props. A team of engineers must be working around-the-clock to keep it standing.
The building is, for all that, well-designed in its component parts- they just don't look like they're made to fit together.
You recognize the styles of a variety of prime material worlds in the construction- apparently the architect was well-traveled.
You also notice that some portions of the structure are metallic- pipes, likely for conducting the warming gasses of the swamp that underlies the city itself and the palace particularly. The 'torches' on the battlements are actually outlets for excess effluence of this gas, accounting for their emerald flame.

The castle has only a few entrances that are doors proper, most being intended for flying vehicles or persons; if one is, however, willing to risk clambering balcony to balcony, the architectural outcroppings form a rough ladder, its steps nearly thirty feet apart. A prodigious leap, but not impossible- and it conducts one eventually to ground level from any visible point in the castle.

Knowledge (Arcane/The Planes): You recognize some portions of the castle as being formed of a very rare material known as astral driftmetal, known to block astral travel. The teeth of the gate by which you are entering, moreover, is formed of gehennan morguth-iron.

Some of the 'molding' you noticed earlier appears to contain fragments of summoning diagrams, words of power, or other magical paraphernalia, but nowhere are the patterns complete- its as if someone made confetti out of a pile of scrolls and then converted the result to wood and masonry.

Assuming those of you that made your spot checks point out the result to the others, it's choose your own adventure time: whom do you accompany?

[Fax Celestis]

"Yes. Hopefully we will each be on the same side of the transaction, instead of in opposition. I'd much rather not have to face your dirty scheming tricks again," she says, slightly flirtatiously.

[Greyen]

Dentin

Dentin says grinningly, I, madame, do not use dirty scheming tricks. Only well placed tactical traps for the unweary. What brings you to this *sniff sniff* swamp?

Awareness [roll0]
Search [roll1]
Survival [roll2] - any odd smells?

[Shiny, Bearer of the Pokystick]

Roll Results:

Survival (DC ??): You recognize the smell of common substances found in marshy areas; flammable, dangerous in large quantities, and easily detectable. They will render some substances unusable, some food inedible, but are known to be beneficial in combination with some other substances.

None of the many odors that assail you are immediately dangerous, or immediately identifiable as anything but generalized city stench.

[deathbyhokie]

Upon noticing the guardsmen, Tod quickly makes his choice.

That scribe over there appears to be beckoning us. Let's go see what he wants

Tod'll flash Dentin a quick look of "Guards, not good, let's get out of here"

Influence for all general purposes (concealing any apprehension in Tod's voice, convincing the others to come along, passing proper hidden meaning to Dentin)
[roll0]
And a Stealth, to avoid quick movements that tend to draw the eyes of guards
[roll1]

Wow that's alot to stealth checks.

[Kellus]

Anshar smiles as his gaze walks the walls of the ragtag palace. Turning to Dentin, he extends his hand. "The name's Anshar. You certainly seem well-connected." He pauses, considering. The man seems hideously annoying, annoyingly wordy, and he smells like a pine tree. "I'm sure we'll get on fabulously."

[Shiny, Bearer of the Pokystick]

Roll Results:

Dentin receives your intended meaning. Your voice appears as clear and confident as ever.

The response of the others is up to them; Influence cannot be used on PCs.

The guards, whatever their intention, do not appear to have noticed you; they look, honestly, a little bored. Clearly they do not relish whatever assignment they've been given.

[Greyen]

Dentin

Dentin looks around and notice Tod's idea. Turning to Anshar he says Good to meet you sir. Not well connected bt well traveled.

Shall we see what that scribe has to offer? Dentin walks into the crowd toward the scribe. As he does so he says to the group with a smile Keep the fire magics low in the city, lots of swamp gas here.

[Pyroconstruct]

"Don't worry, I left that wand in my other coat pocket,"
Aloysius remarks as he takes note of the scribe and, following Tod's example, heads over calmly.

Stealth to not draw attention, should it be needed:
[roll0]

[Shiny, Bearer of the Pokystick]

The guards appear to be having some sort of arcane conversation about the properties of vampirism; none notice you.
The scribe, meanwhile, is sniffling eloquently and carrying a sheen of sweat sufficient to fill a canteen. For all that, he's got a head full of cherubic blond curls and the pouty, full lips of a world-class smiler.
He's apparently in his late twenties or early thirties, but a lifetime of carrying heavy books has given him a stooping posture and a taste, judging by his breath, for 'brelish tea' (A concoction consisting of tea, and alcohol. Any kind will do).

When you arrive at his side, he whispers, breathily:
"You're the new, ah..hm. Yes. The new recruits, hm? The new personnel? I'm not certain of the correct term, yes, hm...you're the new people, at any rate. I'm to show you to Adolphas, that is, to Mr. Belgar...do you know him? You don't know him, do you, he's the Legifex, you know, very important, maintains the branch library here. He's been waiting for new people, very strange, any of us would usually do, but he wants...well. You don't look like acolytes..I think you'll do, yes. Come with me?"

He glances over at the guards again. It's hard to look both furtive and optimistic at the same time, but he manages.

If any of you choose instead to go with the guards, they look you over, up and down, then nod, tersely, and speak:
"Right- new on the ground, yes, off of the Pride? Good you've got here at last. You're to speak with the Ferromach of the Bronze. This way."

Those of you that succeed on a DC 15 Know: Religion check are aware that 'Legifex' is an officer of the faith's ecclesiastic arm, and the branch library is a Yuran temple. 'Ferromach' and 'Bronze' are, similarly, a title and temple, this time of the faith militant.
Anyone of the Yuran faith also knows these things.

[Fax Celestis]

A bit incredulously, Silence will follow.1

1Stealth (1d20 14=24) (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/1512766/)

[Pyroconstruct]

Aloysius didn't seem very impressed with the scribe, but he was curious what the Legifex wanted non-acolytes for. It certainly sounded interesting, so he followed the scribe.

[Kellus]

Anshar frowns slightly at the scribe. As the man stutters, Anshar's eyes glaze over slightly as he listens to the mutterings of shadows and shades. With another glance towards the guards, he follows the scribe.

Knowledge (religion) [Whispers]: [roll0]

[Shiny, Bearer of the Pokystick]

The scribe- he says, stammering, that his name is Irrumatus- leads you up a winding, basalt staircase; every third step has a circular design on it, apparently composed of random colors and letters from a variety of scripts. As you reach the castle's ninth floor, he pushes aside a tapestry to reveal a heavy wood-and-iron door, Emblazoned with the Yuran symbol for 'Branch Library', a clockwork hand.

Opening it with a complicated sequence of raps and no fewer than three keys, Irrumatus leads you forth into a space that smells...well, not like swamp gas.
The odor is explained as you enter- dozens of braziers, set well back from shelves of books, are filled with sticks of gently smoking incense...lavender, patchouli, and sandalwood, in equal profusion. It's a nice change from the fen-scent, but all in all, somewhat cloying.

As you advance over the mosaic-and-embroidered-carpet floor, past more acolytes- most cast from the same mold, young, rosy-cheeked, and tow-headed- a figure who can only be the Legifex advances towards you, waistcoat flapping, moving like a galleon under full sail and puffing like a steamship under the same.

He's as rosy-cheeked as his underlings, but considerably more florid naturally as well, with lips that have gone from full to positively rubbery, expressive and large. Most of him is large; not just the midsection but the arms, legs, and feet, are outsize, cartoonish. His hands move compulsively, here twiddling a button, there fiddling with a buckle, there stroking a filigreed belt. He's well-dressed, ostentatiously so, but the clothing all looks slightly ill-fitting, not a product of the cut but of the way it's worn. He has a scholar's distracted air, and his fingernails and hands bear a crusting of ink, though not as thick as those beneath him. He draws up as you come near, and you realize he's actually almost seven feet tall.

"Ahhhhh, ahhhh."
His voice is rolling, ponderous, like the grinding of a mill-wheel. It seems to emanate not so much from his throat as his stomach, as if his entire being were simply a resonating chamber.
"You are, I think, not settlers," he smiles, almost pleasantly, "but what it is you are remains to be seen, hm? You are people of mission, people of direction...adventurers, vagabonds of riches. But what is your direction? What your mission? This, you do not yet know. I think perhaps you seek to know it, and to that end, I am here."
He pauses, fiddles slightly, draws himself up again.
"The library wants you to find something out. This will hardly come as a surprise, I think- we are, after all, engaged in the pursuit of knowledge! But what you will be doing is not merely the collection of sterile datums...we wish you to overturn superstition, to cast down the remnants of ignorance in the plebiscite. You are to be my torches, lit from my flame! Proponents of my, let us hope, enlightened vision."
He gives a barking laugh and pulls Irrumatus close; the acolyte gives a strangled squeak as he recieves an avuncular head-drubbing.
"Just good the lad here brought you swiftly, else the Bronze would have had you chasing that damn drink-sodden fool of a 'king' we're supposed to be propping up..damned sight better if we brought in fresh stock. Kings and wines are the same that way, here...you wouldn't believe.." he leans close, conspiratorial, " the rotgut we found in the cellars."

He leans back, settling his thumbs beneath his trouser-band.
"So; you will be, of course, handsomely compensated....and thoroughly briefed, though not, I think, by me..." he glances at you in turn, and manages to succintly give the impression of being a very busy man to each of you, "so I do hope you're all here for the right reasons, yes? Otherwise we have wasted a great deal of time expounding on the virtues of knowledge..."

He muses for a moment, then strides off, berating a hapless clerk as he goes; apparently the stacking wasn't quite fast enough for his liking. Irrumatus, off-balance after his encounter with near-paunch, is stammering worse than ever...and evidently expected to ascertain you are indeed the new employees of the library to which Adolphas referred.

"Er...well, you heard Monsignor Belgar. Are you here to help us?"
He smiles up at you under a sheen of sweat, heedless of his tea-teeth. His puppy-like eagerness is palpable.

[Fax Celestis]

"I don't believe 'help' is the best term to use when monies are being exchanged. And our aid--at least, my aid--depends on both how much you are offering and what you are asking." Silence smiles a sly smile. "Perhaps that is something you should clarify?"

[deathbyhokie]

I must concur with the lady. When the terms are on the table, I will be glad to make my choice. Until such a point, it would be ill-advised to decide one way or another.

[Kellus]

"The pursuit of knowledge is always worthwhile for its own sake." Anshar turns a somewhat unnerving gaze on Irrumatus. "I would be happy to be your torch in these... uncertain times."

[Pyroconstruct]

"Indeed, now, let us hear more about the darkened pathways whose illumination will be our task. After that, we can deal with the minor matter of discussing appropriate compensation," Aloysius said, politely. Despite his words, if he was annoyed by the mercenary attitudes displayed by the others, he didn't show it.

[Greyen]

Dentin

Dentin had followed along with the group, humming a small tune under his breath as he went. He was obviously in good spirits and watchful as ever as everyone followed the scribe.

With his trademark half-smile he says to the scribe What they mean is where's the contract and what does it say?


Anyone watching us go with the scribe? Awareness - 1d20+

[Shiny, Bearer of the Pokystick]

Several of the more hard-eyed acolytes are watching your discussion with Irrumatus, but they don't look hostile, exactly- more protective. Apparently the stammering scribe is mascot material.

"Well, as to where you're going, I'm...not really supposed to say before you accept..." he looks a bit pale at the prospect of denying a direct request.
"But I can tell you it's a fairly large town, across Truthley Fen, near the Rivemark. We set up a school there, but I haven't heard anything else about it. And, I'm not supposed to..give you the details. As I said."

He pulls an astonishingly large handkerchief- more of a small towel, really- out of a pocket concealed in his voluminous sleeves, and wipes his brow.
"It's these braziers, I just hate them...anyway. As to..er. Compensation- there's, somewhere..."
He bustles off and rummages in a scroll case off to the left, a construction of hexagonal cells like a very well-organized beehive. He pulls out one of the shabbier-looking documents there, squints dubiously at the smudged ink and broken seal, and hands the roll of vellum over.
It appears to be a contract, and reads thusly:

WHEREAS:
The parties concerned in this contract agree, by their signature below, to serve the interests of the Branch Library located in the prime world of Ghalth.

THENCE:
They shall be granted the following resources by way of compensation for this service;
1. [One] thaumic vessel, flight-capable, for purposes of travel to their destination or destinations and investigation upon arrival thereat.
2. Comestibles, fresh water, and fuel sufficient to reach said destination.
3. Such repairs as may reasonably be required to said vessel.
4. Services of crew and personnel upon request, at present market rates less temple subsidy.
5. Such additional personal supplies as shall be needed at the temple subsidy rate.
6. Additional fuel and repair services at the temple subsidy rate.

In addition to the above, all signatories shall be granted an honorarium not less than the value of their efforts, or some few thousand crowns, upon the completion of their assigned task.

WHEREAS:
In order to receive compensation services as detailed above, the signatories must abide by the following;
1. Act not openly against the interests of the temple, nor intrigue on the behalf of her enemies.
2. Indulge not in excessive violence, nor give others cause to call for revenge against the faith.
3. Complete all tasks assigned in a timely and efficient manner, without excess resources or labor-hours incurred.

The above terms are negotiable under circumstances of duress, emergency, or martial hostilities, at the discretion of the signatories and the Legifex or Ferromach of Ghalth.

Below the text itself, a mess of wax seals and official-looking ribbons is affixed, along with several lines apparently intended for signatures. An elaborate, looping one- apparently Belgar's- is already present, and there's space for all of yours, although apparently other names were written there until the parchment was scraped clean- probably quite recently.

One wonders what happened to the last signatories.

[deathbyhokie]

Tod will listen to the scribe's words, trying to pick out any falsehoods.

Sense Motive
[roll0]


Assuming he finds no falsehood, Tod will grab the nearest available quill (wheter the scribe proffers it, or he snags it from a nearby desk), and sign the contract. In contrast to the hat (which Tod never took off), his signature contains very little flamboyance. The only excess line is a bit of extra flair when crossing the T. Otherwise, it's crisp, clean, and to the point.

I see no particular reason to bicker about the details. I came out here looking for a job, and now that it's here, I might as well get on with it.

[Greyen]

Dentin

Looking around for a moment and walking over to one of the scribes Dentin asks May I borrow your pen? Thanks. I'll bring it right back. Snatching the pen before the scribe can say anything and returning to the side of the others. Umm, looks good to me. Whats a 'thaumic'? He says as he scribbles a looping signature.

After finishing he glances over at the desk of the scribe he stole the pen from and with a flick of the wrist he sends the pen like a dart at the desk. The pen sticks into the side of the desk with a thunk. Dentin frowns, and says with a bob of his head at the scribe, Aparently not made for throwin'.

[Shiny, Bearer of the Pokystick]

The scribes are apparently well-used to sudden pen-theft; each draws a new quill from their robes without comment.

Irrumatus speaks up, momentarily:
"Thaumic? It means it's a pure arcanum vessel, not an air-ship; no sails or elemental, just a helm for power and the inductor spine for drive....they're quite rare. I suppose because they're hard to work with..." he trails off.

He coughs and leans in, whispering.
"Honestly, I don't think we want to keep it very much."

[Greyen]

Dentin

Well, at least you'll be supplying a crew, an stuff then eh? What's the 'temple subsidy rate'? Although still gregarious Dentin's words carry their meaning as he gathers details from Irrumatus, he is working the business deal and figuring its limitations.

After giving the scroll one final look over he'll step away to make room for the others to sign.

[Shiny, Bearer of the Pokystick]

"Sixty percent what it would be on the open market. And you'd have to pay them by the day...."
He laughs nervously.

"You...haven't seen it, have you? You might end up...er. Crewing it yourselves. It's not hard, mind you! You should do fine. Just fine."

[Greyen]

Dentin

Well how big is this 'thaumic vessel' then? Cause if its a row boat then we may have some issues. Dentin carries on smiling I mean, where would we put everything? Mr. Tod here can fit under the seat, but I think that my associate Ms. Silence would be a little peeved if there wasn't room for her to sit.

[Pyroconstruct]

Aloysius read the contract over carefully, asking questions about some of the finer legal points. He wasn't too well-versed in legal matters, but he hoped to be able to see through Irrumatus if there was trickery involved.

Tech: Sense Motive [roll0]

[OOC: Assuming Aloysius doesn't pick up anything bad from Sense Motive]:

After he was satisfied there were no holes in the agreement, Aloysius picked up a pen and signed "Aloysius Focht" with a flourish.

OOC: Also: does Aloysius know more about what a "Thaumic" vessel is with Knowledge: Arcana [roll1]?

[Shiny, Bearer of the Pokystick]

Those of you sensing motives; Irrumatus appears to be telling the truth, as he perceives it.

"No, it's certainly not a rowboat."
He looks at you as if he were glancing over some spectacles, somewhat ruined by the fact he's not wearing any.
"If it were a sailing vessel, it'd have three or so masts at least; it's warship-size. And I've heard there's room for ten aboard it, at least."

Aloysius; you know the following:
A thaumic vessel is any of a number of possible ships powered by non-mundane means and capable of taking to the skies- the waterborne equivalent would be a theurgeme. A thaumic vessel is capable of deriving its power from any source its creator desires; it has the ability to convert life, psionic energy, or even shadow magics into the potence it requires.
Thaumic vessels generally utilize an 'induction spine' for thrust. These devices create a pathway of magically charged atmosphere along which the energized vessel is driven.
Thaumic ships, while comparatively rare in the present time due to the prevalence of spelljamming helms, were a popular design among wizardly travelers for much of the previous century.
The exact means by which a thaumic vessel is powered, controlled, and affected by conditions varies so widely between ships that no generalization is possible beyond the above.

[Pyroconstruct]

"What means does this particular thaumic vessel use to power itself and accept control? It won't do us much good if it's creator made it to accept only some form of thaumaturgy none of us possess."

OOC: Just to make sure I'm interpreting it right, a particular thaumic vessel would have some sources of power it accepts, but not all thaumic vessels accept all power sources, ie, there might be a thaumic vessel that only accept PP as fuel? If that's what you meant, the above question is sensible, if not it might be nonsense.

[Kellus]

Anshar adds nothing further, but signs his name neatly on the contract.

[Shiny, Bearer of the Pokystick]

Irrumatus pauses for a moment, rummages in his sleeves, and pulls out a sheaf of roughly bound notes- in his own hand, you suspect from the shaky, ranging script.

"Well, as far as I can tell...I've studied it, I had to, part of the preparations for your arrival, although it was very dark and not terribly....well. It seems the ship has a somewhat adaptive power supply...it responds to Arcanum, Mysterium Tenebrum, and Sanguinum, and perhaps to others I wasn't able to test. The default drive is a highly efficient Sanguinum, and the ship carries enough..er...motive fuel for a considerable distance under that mode."

He wipes his brow once again, but he seems to be excited rather than nervous- apparently he's glad to discuss his own work.
"I honestly don't know if there's anything the ship wouldn't accept...it's cobbled-together, like the castle, seems to be a little of this and that."
He shrugs.
"As I said, you shouldn't have any trouble."

[Greyen]

Dentin

Dentin looks around the area for a moment and leans on a desk next to Anshar he says quietly Mr. Anshar, since I don't know you at all, and it looks like we're going to be working together for a spell, you mind if I ask a few questions? How do you prefer to be called anyway?

He also looks at Silence and says wryly Ms. Silence, in some ways I had hoped not to be seeing you again. But here we are, its odd sometimes how the winds of fate carry people back into contact. How's the worlds been treating you? You ever get paid for that job back on Kule?

[Fax Celestis]

Silence smiles slowly. "No, I never got paid for it. It's too bad, really: that one was a healthy purse," she says as she looks over the contract1. "But it's good to know I'll be working with competent folk rather than inept loons."

If she finds nothing to her distaste, she casts her liquid night mystery and signs her name with her fingertip in a shadowy, red-black ink seemingly conjured from nothing. She'll also shadow the signature for a moment with her hands to ensure that the text glows, as it should, in the dark.

1 Using my comprehend languages effect to understand bureaucrat-ese and see what the document really means. She'll sign it unless it puts her or her finances in direct, immediate danger.

[Kellus]

Anshar smiles slightly at Dentin. "Just 'Anshar' is fine, Mr. Ness. I rarely stand on ceremony. My story is nothing special. I'm a kind of... student, you might say. How about yourself? I'm sure a man with such a fine collection of trophies and trinkets as yourself must have a hundred and one fascinating stories of the beasts they came from."

The dark selkie pauses as Silence creates her ink. He leans in, watching her closely, with a bemused look on his face.

As per the rules on pages 138-139 of Tome of Magic, Anshar will attempt to detect Silence as a shadow magic user.

Awareness check to spot her shadow moving seperately [DC 15]: Automatic success [Awareness +16]

Knowledge (arcana/the Planes) [Whispers] check to interpret her as a shadow magic user [DC 15]: [roll0]

[Fax Celestis]

Both succeed, though you also recognize that her mysteries aren't exactly typical.

[Shiny, Bearer of the Pokystick]

Silence, the contract appears to promise you a ship and the necessary supplies to complete your mission, and the possibility of a healthy payment in cash as well; the language isn't that unclear, after all.

You find nothing that puts your finances in danger.

[Greyen]

Dentin

Looking at Anshar and watching his curiosity with Silences actions he says Well, there are a few stories to be told thats for sure. Please just call me Dentin, or Dent, or Tin, or Doink, or Sh--bucket, whatever really. He chuckles at his joke at his own expense. I'm just a hunter, been 'touched' by the Great Hunt and it's a fever for me almost. I love to hunt, be it alive or not. As for trophies, I collect a few teeth he says fingering a necklace heavy with a variety of teeth, most notable are a pair of large sabre tooth tiger fangs that hang by his collar bones, but not too much more than that.

He turns his head to Silence Aye, I got stiffed on that one too. Looks like this little crew will be interesting to travel with, that's for sure. seeing that everyone has signed he pops up and looks at Irrumatus with a big smile.

Where to now? A briefing room or the ship itself?

[Shiny, Bearer of the Pokystick]

Just as you all finish signing the contract, you hear a heavy knock on the library door, as of a mailed fist attempting to strike gently.

A clerk bustles over, opens it a crack, then pales and strides over to Irrumatus, whispering in his ear. He, in turn, stutters to you, all the while rolling up and tucking away the document.

"The...the Ferromach would like to see you, before you depart."

[Greyen]

Dentin

The grand tour then, he looks at the others we get to meet all the big wigs today. He looks at Irrumatus next Who is this Ferromach person any way?

[Pyroconstruct]

Dentin

The grand tour then, he looks at the others we get to meet all the big wigs today. He looks at Irrumatus next Who is this Ferromach person any way?

"The Ferromach would be an officer of the more militant branch of the Yuran faith, as compared to the scholarly branch presently employing us," Aloysius replied to Dentin.

"Anyhow, let's see what the Ferromach wants."

[deathbyhokie]

Tod will quietly follow along to meet the Ferromach. At the first opportunity, he'll quietly slip the hat into his Haversack


Larceny to conceal the putting away of the hat. I understand the effect will be obvious, but much like magic tricks, Tod wishes to conceal the mechanics.
[roll0]

[Greyen]

Dentin

Well ok then, i guess we should be off to his holiness. Never really did pay much attention to who was who in the churches. Dentin falls in with the rest of the crew headed for the Ferromach.

His head and eyes never stop moving as they move through the halls.


Dentin will try to make sure that he can find his way back out from where they have been sent.

Watching for anything unsavory too. Awwareness - [roll0]

[Shiny, Bearer of the Pokystick]

The guard sent to fetch you, armored in shiny, but dented, vambrace and greaves, looks a bit put-upon underneath his chain coif.

He nods as you emerge; Tod, you successfully conceal your methodology, and his eyebrow lifts.
He leads you along the hall, after briefly, even curtly, introducing himself as Dantony. Unlike the Legifex' blond-curled crew, he's got a map of scars under a mop of brown hair, and a bit of a limp- as of an old injury. The over-sized pick he carries looks to have seen fairly heavy use.

He turns, after a while of moving down mosaic-laden passageways (some obscene, some apparently scientific, some just horrifying- is that a six-legged lion?) and speaks, surprisingly, like a good student of the lecturer-legifex.

"The Ferromach did want to see you somewhat....earlier. But it seems you're in the employ of the library rather than the Bronze now, and that can't be helped. But he'll want your assistance, still; I suggest you grant it."
He pauses, and his mouth twists in a wry smile, scars dragging at his lip.
"He's got good reasons, if he bothers asking at all."

The above occurs, unless any of you elect to stay behind or something; anyone who does gets stared at uncomfortably.

Dentin, you detect nothing beyond the unnerving frescoes; there are occasional guards, but they nod to your escort and wave you along. You think you could find your way back, but probably not in a hurry.
Nothing untoward jumps out at you.

[Greyen]

Dentin

Dentin follows along watching everything. He'll nod affably to the guards and at one of the frescoes he pauses for a moment making a face I think I actaully may have hunted one of those things before. Nasty bugger, smelled like an old soldiers feet gone fungal.What? Oh sorry, I'm coming. Dentin hurries to catch up, trying not to be too distracted by the passing frescoes.

[Pyroconstruct]

Aloysius follows along, observing the frescoes with a mixture of amusement and puzzlement.

[Fax Celestis]

Silence nods to Dentin. "I think I have too." She laughs, pointing and covering her mouth. "That one looks like my sister, Chastity."

[Greyen]

Dentin

Wait, what sphere is she on? I'm afraid I may have dated her. Dentin says with an overdramatic worried look on his face befroe cracking a big smile again Only kidding. I much prefer half-orcs. Again he looks around waiting for the 'disgusted' reaction before letting out a big laugh and slapping the guard leading them on the back jovially. Let me stop now before I commit some heresy or something. Still chuckling a little he moves on.

[deathbyhokie]

Silence and Chastity, hm? I don't suppose there's a third of you named Patience?
To Dentin
That reminds me, What ever happened to Thrunk? One minute you guys were fine, then she disappeared from the face of the earth. Did you do something, or was there another half-orc in the picture?
Tod will keep his eyes out for any possible ambushes, or anything else that sets off his finely honed "Flee" detector



And an Influence to keep a straight face while making things up about Dentin's past paramours
[roll] 1d20+15
Damn extraneous spaces! can we just call it a Take 10, or shall I make another post with the roll?

[Greyen]

Dentin

Dentin does his best not to look shocked at Tod. Well Mr. Tod, she simply wasn't doing it for me anymore. I fed her to a dire lion, well more accurately she fed herself to the dire lion....I just lead her to it. So how's your sister doing these days? Dentin can hardly keep the lies contained as he grins and hops out of Tod's arms reach.

[Pyroconstruct]

Dentin

Dentin does his best not to look shocked at Tod. Well Mr. Tod, she simply wasn't doing it for me anymore. I fed her to a dire lion, well more accurately she fed herself to the dire lion....I just lead her to it. So how's your sister doing these days? Dentin can hardly keep the lies contained as he grins and hops out of Tod's arms reach.

"Dentin, I must say, I'm glad to see that you've gotten over the cruel manner in which she abandoned you for a half-ogre. After all, even if he had you beat on good looks, charm, and brains, he couldn't possibly match your sense of humor," Aloysius said in an entirely sincere manner.

[Fax Celestis]

Silence laughs lightly at Tod's remark. "I come from a large family. I do indeed have another sister named Patience, as well as some other sisters...Prudence, Charity, Piety, Temperance, Mercy, and Fidelity, for a few. And I've got brothers too: Victor, Valor, Justice, Veritas, Honour..." She pauses. "...it's a very traditional family."

[Kellus]

"Dentin, I must say, I'm glad to see that you've gotten over the cruel manner in which she abandoned you for a half-ogre. After all, even if he had you beat on good looks, charm, and brains, he couldn't possibly match your sense of humor," Aloysius said in an entirely sincere manner.

Anshar frowns. "Speak for yourself. The last half-ogre I met was a rodeo clown."

[Shiny, Bearer of the Pokystick]

Sometime in your conversation regarding who might have bonked what member of which species on which sphere, whilst Dantony looks on indulgently, apparently without disbelief, you reach the door of the Bronze.

It would be singularly difficult to mistake this portion of the castle for anything but what it is, unlike the Branch Library, which could pass for a largish filing cabinet with an unusually attractive staff.
The door is bound in- what else- bronze, and bill-carrying guardsmen ready, at any moment, to firmly yell 'stop, thief' or respond to the hallowed cry of 'seize them' stand at the ready.

Within, order reigns. It's a single large room, with floor-to-ceiling windows. It doesn't look very defensible until one realizes that every person within it is carrying a longbow, and further, you're on at least the eighth floor. The city stretches away in all directions; it would be quite a view if it didn't look like a series of inexplicably wooden toadstools with spore-veins of pale gray.
Everyone within is engaged; some are sorting packages of documents, some bearing messages, some making marks on mounted, detailed maps- and some making them. You catch glimpses of circles, lines of roads- long curving highways through unmarked territory, miles of forest and field and fen.
There's no evidence of anything hostile toward you, personally- but it's not a friendly place, either. Too much efficiency is in evidence.

One man stands, alone, directing all the others- like the Legifex, he can only be what he is, the Ferromach of Yurawel.
He stands tall, hair a shining river of gently waving gold falling nearly to his waist. Runes in draconic shine pale on his armor- they read "Lion's Mane" to those that can decipher that tongue. It's easy to see why.
He looks....handsome. It's hard to escape the fact. But his lip is twisted, as by a permanent sneer; a scar pulls it up and away from his chin, and his teeth, where they can be seen, are blackened with years of military cuisine.
He wears a longsword at his waist, a roundshield at his back, and a predatory expression when it comes to you.

"So."
He leans his chin against his hand, cupping his face in such a way to hide his disfigurement. It's a familiar gesture to him, you sense.
He gets to the point quickly.
"I can see that damn seed-stained scribbler up at the Library has got you already, so I won't bother trying to get you...enlisted, in any formal capacity. I'd have probably paid in gold, not ships, so more fool you for not coming to me first. I do wonder why you're the sort to turn away from guards..."
His gaze travels over you. Gimlets look nervous and retiring by comparison.
"Regardless. I have questions."
He leans back, without being seated. There is, it would seem, a trick to it.
"About...Raun. He was a tough son of the land, and I don't think he'd go down just as easily as that...well. If I don't miss my guess- and I so seldom do- you'll be following the Royal Progressus on your damn fool errands for the Scrivener. If you see anything interesting about the heir, you send word to me- not him. I'll...pay."
He strokes his chin, musing, then nods, curtly.
"Dantony, take care of them."
He turns away, speaking to another of his subordinates. It's reasonably clear, as before, that you're dismissed.

[Greyen]

Dentin

As soon as maps are in evidence Dentin is distracted. He wanders over to the map guys and begins perusing the piles. Not touching just examining. Occaissionally he will look over at the Legifex and nod or say mmm, something. When they are dismissed he will scoot over back to the group and follow everyone out.


Awareness [roll0]

trying to memorize as many maps as he can quickly.

[Pyroconstruct]

Aloysius listened to the Ferromach, observing but not saying anything. After they were dismissed and he had a chance to talk to Dantony without the Ferromach overhearing, he started to question the soldier.

"I can't help but notice that your boss doesn't seem to get on very well with the Legifex, and it seems that the feeling is mutual. Do you know the reason for their dislike? Is it merely competitive zeal, or did something else happen?"


Influence, if needed, to try and get Dantony to talk if he would otherwise not:
[roll0]

[deathbyhokie]

Tod will also wander the room a bit, looking at maps alongside Dentin.


While doing so, Tod will also use one of his 3/day Detect Magic SLAs. Afrer ensuring that there is no magic alarm set to go off if the maps or other documents leave the room, Tod will see if he can't snag a nice map of the realms, and slide it down an available sleeve.
Awareness [roll0]
Untrained in Spellcraft, so no roll for identifying schools.
Larceny [roll1]

[Shiny, Bearer of the Pokystick]

Dentin, you receive a vague impression, but nothing more solid; the maps are covered in a dense scrum of cartographic notations and runes.

Tod, you notice that each map bears a faintly glowing sigil; an identical sigil is placed above the door. You aren't sure it's a trap or alarm, but it's hard to imagine what else it would be. Nonetheless, you could, you feel, slip one into your sleeve without being noticed.

Dantony turns to Aloysius and grins, lopsidedly.
"Mostly it's the overlap in their....tasks, you might say. They're both of equal rank, nominally, and much of what they're intended to do is the same- healthy competition. But the Legifex wants to mine all the locals for what they know already before he does anything...and the Ferromach wants to give them something they can hold on to. New plows, aqueducts..."
He trails off and his expression turns bitter.
"If the Scrivener would leave off stalling, we could turn this place into a model nation in no time at all..."

[deathbyhokie]

Yeah, based on available magical evidence, Tod will refrain from pilfering

Goading the guard on, Tod will add:
That's all those bookish-types seem to do. Delay, delay, delay. Let me guess, he told you that you have to look at the problem from all the angles before you can come to a proper solution, right?



Maybe i'm not looking right, but i can't see where we ever got the specifics of the Job from Irrumatus. Did we, and I'm just not seeing it?

[Shiny, Bearer of the Pokystick]

"Something very like..."
Dantony glances at you strangely- apparently the actual wording was very similar.

Irrumatus did not provide you with details; presumably you'll get them once you reach your ship.

[Pyroconstruct]

"An understandable sentiment," Aloysius said, sympathetically. "It's hard for men of action to hesitate when there's something active we could be doing."

[Greyen]

Dentin

Dentin wanders along behind the group. Rubbernecking again. DodoDOdododoOoo. Dentin mumbles a wordless tune under his breath. Those that have worked with him know that this is a sign of heavy thinking for the hunter. A "dirty scheming" plan may be in the works.

[Kellus]

Anshar smiles as he murmurs softly to himself. "'Lion's Mane'... fierce and brave, to be sure. But also man-eating. Best remember that."

[deathbyhokie]

"Something very like..."
Dantony glances at you strangely- apparently the actual wording was very similar.

I've known a few of his kind in my day. Usually, if you want to get them moving, the best thing to do is to take the first step yourself. Once you're past where they want you to go, they'll sprint out in front of you before you can even blink.

[Shiny, Bearer of the Pokystick]

Dantony moves toward the door, and motions to you all to follow; he seems to be holding a largish, cubic device that you're fairly certain he didn't have before.

[Greyen]

Dentin

Dentin follows along, raising an eyebrow for a moment at the cube thingy. He tenses a little ready to jump if things start to get ugly. Thinking to himself he glances around, pausing on Anshar for a moment before moving on.What have I gotten myself into this time? At least there's decent company along, and this other guy too. I wonder what his deal is?

[Pyroconstruct]

Aloysius tried to identify the cubic device as he moved towards the door.

1d20+13

[Pyroconstruct]

OOC: I don't know what that means, I think I screwed up the formatting?

[roll0] Knowledge(arcana)

[deathbyhokie]

Tod

Tod will quietly bring his dagger into a more accessible position, and then will ask

What's that you have there?


Larceny (concealing dagger movements and palming dagger): [roll0]
Know Arcana (trying to figure out what it is): [roll1]
Sense Motive (for his response): [roll2]
Awareness (I've still got Detect Magic up, or if it's been more than 9 minutes [or you feel my concentration has lapsed in the intervening time], I'll burn another use): [roll3]

[Shiny, Bearer of the Pokystick]

Dantony smirks and fingers his weapon.

"The key to your ship, so don't get any...ideas."
His tone of voice makes it clear that he holds with ideas generally, but will make a profound exception in your case. He appears to be telling the truth.

Neither Tod nor Aloysius can identify the device precisely. You do recognize it, however, as being crafted of Jade, commonly a material used for items that repel evil or enhance purity.

Detect Magic results for Tod:

The cubic object radiates an aura of moderate conjuration.
You are unable to discern anything else about it.

[Greyen]

Dentin

Dentin cautiously reaches for the cube to examine it How many keys to the ship are there?

[Shiny, Bearer of the Pokystick]

Dantony pulls his hand back as you reach yours forward.

"One. And I'm not to let it out of my sight."

[Greyen]

Dentin

Dentin pulls his hand back with a grin Ah, well. I'll not challenge your orders.

Dentin looks at the others Does this mean I have to get a big hat with a feather and an eyepatch now? He raises his off hand making a hook with his first finger, chuckling.

[Pyroconstruct]

"Why would your hat need an eyepatch, Dentin?" Aloysius joked back.

"In any case, then, let's continue; I'm anxious, as are we all, I'm sure, to set sail. Idle hands keep no time, as they say."

[Greyen]

Dentin

Well, I'm not going to be the peg legged pirate! That should be a given. Dentin's grin seems to take up half of his face.

[Fax Celestis]

"You could change nothing and be the ugly pirate. Meanwhile, I get to be the ship's romantic interest. Go me," Silence jibes.

[Shiny, Bearer of the Pokystick]

Dantony leads you down one final corridor- you appear to have been moving upward during your conversation.
He pulls his cloak tighter around himself and opens a vast bronze-plated door...and the wind plucks at him with a thousand fingers.
It's cold, and a bit damp; the current of the air is so fierce as to actually drive away the scent of the city, no mean feat. You appear to be moving across a causeway leading from the side of one, taller tower, and the top of a shorter one. A dome, resembling those in use by wizards concerned with matters of celestial observation, caps the shorter edifice, its rotunda studded with crystalline windows and plated, as the door was, in bronze. You can't see any obvious entrances, even as you reach the side of the dome and the wind abates in its shadows.

[deathbyhokie]

Tod will re-sheath his dagger

To the party
I suppose that puts me firmly in the role of comic relief then?

Pointing at the building he'll ask the guard
Is this where the ship is berthed, or do we approach another potential employer?

[Kellus]

"The ship, I hope. I'd like to see this patchwork beast for myself," Anshar says.

[Greyen]

Dentin

You know Anshar that may just be a good name for it. "Patchwork Beast". Dentin walks the edge of the causeway looking down, obviously fearless about heights.

[Shiny, Bearer of the Pokystick]

Dantony presses the cube to the dome, in an almost invisible depression; even as he draws it away, backing hurriedly, it begins to collapse like a shuddering, mechanical flower, revealing...the ship, in a deep amphitheater.

It resembles from above nothing so much as a lute; the prow dominated by a massive ram of pitted black iron. A thaumic spine juts from the foredeck, like a dagger of copper sufficient in size to gut a titan.
The center of the deck is dominated by the crew quarters, a cylinder of black-banded plating. The aft section sprouts a sphere of the same coppery metal as the thaumic spine, with circular windows of smoked crystal and bizarre scores and grooves across its surface.
Two similar spheres sprout from the lower decks, one on the forward starboard section, and one from the aft port. Stubby protrusions that might be cannons, or thrusters of some description also jut at all angles. The whole might appear beautiful, a masterpiece of artifice....

If it weren't for the fact that the thaumic spine is the only clean section. The rest is a solid patina of rust, verdigris, and what appears to be lichen or mold.
Bolts are scattered below it, apparently jettisoned by the vagaries of metal fatigue. If you listen carefully, you hear what appears to be rats, or something similar, but larger. No section of plating appears to be continuous with any other; patchwork is the correct term.

Dantony looks on it, and raises an eyebrow.
"Well...the spine is clean."

[Fax Celestis]

"Mother..." Silence starts before turning to Dantony. "Please tell me she moves better than she looks. Because if prettiness is her strong suit, m'fraid we're all screwed."

[Shiny, Bearer of the Pokystick]

"She's been impounded since the king's death; nobody actually knows what it is, honestly. We believe it was a councilor's vessel."

He makes his way downward, stepping gingerly around what seem to be pieces of fallen plating.

"It might be fast, at that. I don't think I've ever seen a spine that size....well, not in something less than a century old."

[Pyroconstruct]

"'Patchwork Beast' she is. Let's see about dealing with anything that might either prevent us from flying or cause us to descend more rapidly than desired," Aloysius said, as he approached the ship, listening more closely to the scratching noises

OOC: If nothing more important appears, Aloysius is going to see if he can track down what's making the noises.

Awareness: [roll0]

[Shiny, Bearer of the Pokystick]

Aloysius

The noises appear to be emanating from a set of partially recessed pipes that run along the sides of the vessel.
It sounds less like the scuttle of rats and more like the slither of some sort of reptile or long-bodied insect.

[deathbyhokie]

Tod
Well, she's quite an... eyefull.

Tod seems unable to say anything more as he simply gapes in...let's be nice and call it awe.

OOC

So who has Prestidigitation to clean it up?:smalltongue:
Also, where's our Rugged Scoundrel of a pilot? You know, the one who confuses distance and time units, and can't decide if he wants to shoot first or second?

[Greyen]

Dentin

Dentin walks over to the side of the ship and swipes a finger down the side. I really like what you have done with the lichen, great camoflage! Unless of course the ship isn't supposed to be this color?And what about all these parts on the floor, I guess you are going to tell me that they are extra parts? He turns around sniffing, he moves toward Aloyuios looking for the source of the noise.


Awareness [roll0]
Search [roll1]
Know:Nature [roll2]
Survival [roll3]

[Shiny, Bearer of the Pokystick]

Dentin

You don't see much besides....ship. You detect nothing that looks like a trap or other mean-spirited object.
You do, however, tentatively identify the slithering noise as temple asps or a similar creature.

[Greyen]

Dentin

Reaching out he grasps Aloysius' shoulder. Dentin gently pulls Aloysius away from the ship and glances at Dantony Is there a reason you are keeping snakes in this thing? He quickly uncoils a bowstring from around his wrist and bends his bow, stringing it while his eyes are on where the noises are coming from. His eyes glow a dim but brilliant green as he does so.

[Shiny, Bearer of the Pokystick]

"My understanding is that they're supposed to power the ship somehow. I'm not entirely certain how, unless they're magical or something...maybe that clerk you scrottled off with has some idea."

He snorts, softly, and keeps walking.

"And I don't think they're exactly flapping around loose. You'll see."

[Greyen]

Dentin

Dentin stands straight, tension gone. What!? Okay this I gotta see. He moves to follow Dantony.

[Pyroconstruct]

"This does seem to be an... odd fashion of locomotion. Let's see, indeed." Aloysius also follows Dantony.

[Fax Celestis]

Somewhat incredulously, Silence also follows.

[Kellus]

"The thing's powered by snakes?" Anshar shudders.

[Greyen]

Dentin

Dentin says to Anshar Maybe its like those gnomish 'jammers with the big furballs in water wheels.

[Pyroconstruct]

"I fervently hope that you are right, Dentin."

[deathbyhokie]

As do I, Aloysis.

So, let's see this marvelous Snake Drive System.

[Shiny, Bearer of the Pokystick]

Dantony presses the cube to a much more obvious depression on the ship's underside as you reach it, and it sinks in, as if the surface were porous- even liquid. You note a flash of greenish light- some arcane process has taken place.

The door opens with a HSSST of trapped air, and you breath in the scent of the patchwork beast- musty, true, but with a hint of...something. Not quite a perfume, more the ghost of one. A suggestion of flowers, somewhere.

The decor of the entry hall is opulent to the point of oppression; whether because oppression is necessary to produce it, or because it is simply too rich, too much at once, is up to the viewer's social conscience. The floor is covered in woven carpet in deep purple, wine red, and gold; the walls appear to be ornately carved, reflective black stone, studded with friezes of jade and ivory. Breaking them on both sides, however, are some few features that are....unusual.

Firstly, the flowers. An alcove on each side contains terrariums, and each terrarium contains, in addition to complacent-looking beetles with carapace as brilliant as gems, a wide variety of orchids and flowering vines, twining up a frame bolted to either side of the nook's rear; nozzles and spheres of slightly turbid water complete the picture mysteriously. The alcoves apparently explain the scent.

Secondly, and more obviously, the snakes.
A tube, made, for some perverse reason, of clear (albeit fairly thick) glass, runs along either side of the corridor before disappearing into the wall. The tube contains snakes; a massive, rutting tangle of them.
Anyone knowledgeable about reptilian habits, and anyone else just savvy, realizes that 'rutting' may indeed be appropriate, as some of the snakes are juveniles or young. A few, however, are long enough to have shed their skin quite a few times- their passage chokes the tube for their brethren.
A strangled WHOOSH of air sounds and the snakes seem, for a moment, to be in an accelerated time-frame, until one realizes they are in point of fact being carried by a current of pressurized air to some far-flung destination elsewhere on the ship.
As the air current subsides, you realize that the snakes in the leftward tube appear to be more vigorous; those in the rightward seem sluggish, or even diseased.

[Pyroconstruct]

"I gather that the leftward snakes are the power source for this ship's thaumic equivalent to a Blood Helm, and the rightmost are the exhausted fuel. But what purpose," Aloysius inquired, "do the plants and insects serve?"

[Greyen]

Dentin

Dentin moves over and looks closely at the snakes and the terrariums Looks like I found my job onboard. His eyes twinle as he says so. He says figureing The terrariums may be there to restore the sick ones or to feed them or something I'm guessing but lets listen and look around a bit and we'll figure it out. I'm thinking we may want to be hiring a ship's wright on this tour. Or the flowers may be entirely decorative. Dentin looks at everyone with a shrug. Dentin looks carefully at the contents of the tubes and terraiums and how/if they interact.


K:nature [roll0]
K:Arcana [roll1]
Spellcraft [roll2]
handle Animal [roll3] - mostly to figure out how to deal with getting the snakes from point A to point B safely if need be.
heal [roll4] -how sick/damaged are the right side snakes?

[Shiny, Bearer of the Pokystick]

Dantony gives an elaborate shrug to convey not just specific, but total, ignorance of the ship's functions. He hands a red-ribbon-wrapped scroll to whomever's nearest, and makes for the exit.
"Good luck.."
He mutters, pulling out a cigar.
"....You'll need it."

Greyen:

Know: Nature- You recognize the snakes as, indeed, temple asps- poisonous, but not aggressive.
The flowers are also somewhat poisonous; while the process is complex, you recognize among the lilies the basis for several potent venoms and narcotics.
Even the frogs are 'poison-dart'.

You have no clue how anything magical around you works, at all.
You are, however, able to hazard that the tubes rely on some form of conjurative magic.

From what you can tell, the system for handling the snakes is complete sealed, perhaps to avoid people failing their handle animal checks and getting owned by viper venom.

The sluggish snakes appear to be nothing more than that- sluggish, as if they had spent some time basking on a rock. They don't look close to death, more tired. A good cup, or snake equivalent to a cup, of whatever snakes have instead of coffee should perk them right up.

[Greyen]

Dentin

Dentin spends a few moments looking at the terrariums obviously very interested in the contents. He pops up I get it now, I am thinking too hard. These are decorative, poisonous as hell, but still decorative. I wonder whats down here... Dentin see Dantony leave and then wanders down a hall way himself, sniffing along while dragging his hand along the wall to leave his own scent as a guide back.

[Pyroconstruct]

"Thank you kindly, Dantony," Aloysius replied in the sincerest tone he could muster to the guard's sarcastic wishing of good luck. As soon as Dantony exited, Aloysius opened up the scroll and read its contents aloud to the others.

OOC: I'm assuming Aloysius got the scroll; he was pestering Dantony about the ship's machinations so it makes a reasonable amount of sense, if there are no objections.

[deathbyhokie]

Did Dantony leave the cube? If so, Tod will snag it, and begin examining it closer.

If not, Tod'll just settle for wandering around the ship, exploring.


Take 20 on the Awareness for the cube and ship (+8 Bonus). I'm not looking too hard at the ship, more just trying to get a sense of where things are, although if something leaps out at me, I'll take a closer look
Search (for interesting things in the ship) - [roll0]

[Shiny, Bearer of the Pokystick]

Tod:

The cube was absorbed by the ship itself. You briefly saw two tiny figures struggling during the flash of light, as if the cube were some sort of repository or prison. You detect, by way of interesting things, the same things Dentin does while exploring.


Dentin, you find a long hallway with a number of identical doors; all appear to be formed of the same dark, polished metal, and are studded with circular depressions. Next to each door is a bank of circular tiles, the same size as the door's markings; each one contains a letter, though often several differing scripts are represented. The tiles gleam faintly- apparently they're made of silver, or at least, silver-plated.
In addition, a few feet inward from the entrance, you find a hatch above your head, and the pull-handle for what may be a collapsible ladder.
Further in, past most of the doors, you find a bulge of veined and filigreed copper on your left, suggesting a spherical chamber intruding into the ship's body. Another juts similarly further back on the right. Circular hatches with a mysterious rune carved into their surfaces are centered on each bulge.
Midway down the ship's spine, another hatch is set into the ceiling, and yet a third is placed just before the corridor's end at the stern. This last is jutting from another copper sphere, this one protruding from the ceiling.


Aloysius, the scroll reads as follows:
"To our esteemed newest employees;
You are hereby granted the use of the vessel in which you now find yourselves, as per the terms of your contract. While it belonged to an eccentric counselor of the late king, we believe his eccentricity to be nonterminal, so you should find it useful.

As per the further terms of said document, you are commanded to make your way to the village of Tromsway, at the center of the rings; enclosed are navigational co-ordinates and instructions for their entry into the ship's systems.

Once there, you are perforce commanded to investigate the recent rash of attacks by savage beings, with an eye to the possible interference of hostile forces both foreign and domestic; further, you are asked to investigate any activities that run counter to our overall mission of progressing the people's state of life and any persons who preach messages of ignorance.

-LEGIFECTUM VIIXI.I

The whole is written in violently red ink with a florid, looping hand.

[deathbyhokie]

Tod will check out what's in the top hatch close to the entrance - the one with a possible pull-out ladder.

[Greyen]

Dentin

Dentin very carefully opens the first door he happens upon.

[Pyroconstruct]

Aloysius read the enclosed instructions, looking into anything about the operations of the ship. He shared any important information he saw with the others.

[Shiny, Bearer of the Pokystick]

Dentin, none of the actual doors within the ship- and there's only four, two on each side- will open at the present time. They appear to be sealed shut, each with its adjacent letter bank.
If you meant the first hatch, let me know.

Tod, ladder easily pulls down at your touch, apparently none the worse for having been mothballed, it moves smoothly, as does the hatch, which springs open by some mechanism as you near it.
The chamber within is, perhaps predictably, spherical. Just inside the entrance is a walkway bisecting the chamber, with an elaborate, filigreed railing studded with ornamental metallic faces. Similar faces of all descriptions jut from the walls and most of the fixtures, giving the impression of a sort of hellish portrait gallery. More or less all of the fittings appear to be made of the same dark, polished material that forms the doors and walls.
At the end of the walkway, a hemisphere pushes out from the wall; every portion of it is heavily carved with runes and sigils of mysterious purpose, save a clear circular area in the center. If you happen to touch it, you notice a coruscation of jade, violet, and crimson energies, and feel a sudden surge of lightness in your body.
On your left as you progress from the doorway inward is a massive bronze tube terminating in a sphere. Four assemblies of aerials, wires, and coils move out from it at the cardinal points, and below the sphere several smaller tubes move down into the chamber's nadir. You can easily hear a faint hissing noise if you pay attention.
On your right is a smaller, less ornamented walkway, which ends in a padded, suspended seat- a sort of very ornate hammock. This, in turn, faces a bank of levers and switches, most of which are connected by crystalline, vibrating rods to one or more spheres, some clear as glass, others stone, metal, or even wood. The only readily identifiable device is an octagonal ship's wheel centered just before the chair, although somewhat recessed- one would have to draw it out to make use of it.

Aloysius, the instructions point you to the hatch at the stern of the ship.
Assuming you follow them, you find yourself in, again, a spherical chamber; this one, however, contains only a small landing and no lights whatever- should the hatch close behind you, you find yourself in complete darkness.
As your eyes adjust, you note that a column stands before you on the balcony on which you stand; this column is, in turn, studded with smaller notched cylinders. A large central cylinder, full of holes, and a series of small bars of just the size to fit those holes, tops the device. Each small bar is engraved with a rune in one or another language; the scroll gives a sequence of runes and their insertion in terms of row and column, numbering from a small notch on the cylinder's head.
Should you follow the instructions, a few desultory green lights finally illuminate the chamber's distant, curving walls, which are entirely covered with parchment- a palimpsest, apparently, as you can faintly discern the marks of previous writings. A number of quills suddenly spring from beneath the platform, and, at the end of long, spindly arms of wood and iron, trace a path- a crown, and a long line crossing what appear to be small signs indicating mountainous regions, a swamp or forest, and finally, a small castle, perhaps indicating a town. When the autoscribes complete their task, a panel springs toward the platform at speed, bearing a sheet inscribed with notations written in pairs of sphere, relative position, and mineral, i.e. 'emerald 4 high'. These notations are carefully numbered.

[Greyen]

(OOC- If it has a handle and swings open and closed, its a door to me and probably to Dentin)

Dentin

Dentin opens the hatch he comes to.

[Shiny, Bearer of the Pokystick]

Dentin, the hatch moves aside as it did for the others; you find yourself on a filigreed walkway, leading out across the center of another spherical chamber.

On your left is a clear crystal sphere, filled with what appears to be buzzing insects; they move so quickly, however, that you find it difficult to get a good look at them.

On your right, three platforms just large enough to stand on are placed before three banks of glass sheets, which flicker and gleam oddly, not entirely in response to ambient light. Below the sheets are six tubes- two for each platform- extending outward from the wall, each filled with a thick, glutinous substance. On a hook at the edge of each platform rest two gloves- close inspection reveals that they are crusted with the same substance, suggesting they are for covering the hands before pushing them into the tubes.

[deathbyhokie]

I think I found my room.

Tod will go and hop into the hammock/chair in the room. Then he'll start examining the levelr and switches, looking for one that just screams "Pull me".

Is the metal in the ship as crusted and dingy as the metal outside of the ship, or is that just an exterior problem?

[Shiny, Bearer of the Pokystick]

The metal outside the ship is dingy; inside, it's spotless, even gleaming. A team of butlers buttling at full speed couldn't do better.

More or less all of the levers, to a properly adjusted mind, scream 'pull me'.

[Greyen]

Dentin

Dentin looks puzzledly at the room and moves onto the next hatch in the same hallway. He opens this one and looks in side.

[Pyroconstruct]

OOC: Just to clear it up: it would appear that the device is giving Aloysius a sheet he's meant to detach (or at leas that it appears detachable)? I'm assuming that.

Aloysius took the offered sheet, and then tried to shut down the navigation room by undoing the steps he had performed.

He then set off to find where the others had wandered off to. Hopefully, one of them had already found where to steer from.

OOC: Aloysius will wander around looking for the others - I'm assuming he'll locate Tod and notice that his room appears to be a suitable candidate for where one steers from.

Aloysius found the open hatch leading to where Tod had gone, and as he looked in, saw the gnome staring intently at the series of levers in front of the hammock, and he greeted Tod enthusiastically:

"Tod, it would appear that you've located the steering chamber, or something to that effect. I've gotten my hands on our directions - this ship seems to have a built in device navigation, quite a handy one too. Shall we see if we can figure out how to take off and steer?

Assuming Tod agrees that they should:

Aloysius surveyed the controls, and looked to see if there was any correlation between the directions on his sheet and the various devices in front of Tod. He also showed Tod the directions.

[deathbyhokie]

If Aloysius should find him, Tod will agree, and begin a search for levers that seem to match the printed sheet.

It should be noted that Tod's behavior is best charicterized as how a child looks when he figures out how to get to the cookie jar, or alternately, the behavior of a teenager who just figured out where Mom and Dad keep the liquor.

If Aloysius doesn't find Tod in time, then I guess it's random lever time. Let's go for a Green one, or barring that, a shiny Red one.

[Pyroconstruct]

OOC: My apologies for posting this in the IC thread, I can't dig up the OOC one. I heard Shiny is getting back to this, but my computer just melted down, so I may not respond immediately when we restart. I won't be gone too long, but feel free to NPC Aloysius temporarily if needed to keep things going.