Ad Astra [IC]

[3SecondCultist]

"Ad Astra"

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"Many years ago the great British explorer George Mallory, who was to die on Mount Everest, was asked why he wanted to climb it. He said, 'Because it is there.'"

- John F. Kennedy, 1962

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First Light
10th Zarantyr, 999 YK

The unveiled stars gleam far above you, as night's shrouds have long since dissipated. Though the ink-violet skies retreat ever-westward in the face of rosy dawn, you spy those celestial markers that have guided your journey thus far. The twelve moons of Eberron wheel overhead, a procession of silent shapes unobstructed by tree, tower, or cloud. The massive pale face of Zarantyr is the closest, though you spot its siblings Olarune and Therendor not too far behind. And to the south, a luminous band of glitter and gold hangs far above the surface of Eberron, gleaming in the first rays of the emerging day: the Ring of Siberys. In many stories, the Ring is formed from the body of Siberys itself, one of the three great progenitor dragons that created the world in a time before history. According to these legends, it is the source of all magic, and the dragonshards that make up its mass are gateways to untold power.

Regardless of the tales, you know one thing for certain: you will be the first to traverse the Ring to find out the truth for yourselves.

Under the banner of the King's Citadel of Breland, a new initiative has been formed. Named after a god of ingenuity and artifice, Project Onatar has one solitary purpose: to commission a crewed space flight beyond the surface of Eberron, with the goal of investigating the Ring of Siberys and perhaps beyond. The King's Observatory - the newest branch of the Citadel, formed in secret at the end of the Last War - has recruited soldiers and scientists, pilots and spies, magical theoreticians and practical magewrights from all over the continent. Under the orders of Lord Kor ir'Wynarn, the Observatory's director Owyn McCoy has appointed all of you to be the faces of Project Onatar. When the as-of-yet-unnamed spacecraft is complete, you will all have seats upon it as it makes its maiden voyage from this planet out into the vast unknown.

Of course, every ambition is matched by its challenges, and Project Onatar has had its fair share. First and foremost among your hurdles is the fact that no vessel exists that is capable of attaining the immense velocity needed to break from this planet's gravity, let alone traversing the void beyond. Although the Observatory has brought on experts in aeronautical engineering from House Lyrandar and artificers from Cannith South under the supervision of the young prodigy Baron Merrix d'Cannith himself, the problems of speed, strength, and weight have seemed insurmountable... until now. The publication of a research article in an esoteric corner of the Korranberg Chronicle about a new type of elemental binding might hold the answers that Project Onatar needs. The paper's author - a Zil gnome by the name of Praxle Arrant d'Sivis - lives in Korranberg, the intellectual capital of Zilargo and one of the most learned cities on Khorvaire.

Your mission, as assigned by McCoy and the other Observatory higher-ups, is to track down Praxle d'Sivis, ascertain the extent of his knowledge, and enlist him into the King's Observatory. As a Zil national, he is protected by his home country, and so the officers have requested that you stay clear of breaking the law whenever possible. The last thing that the King's Citadel wants is to be responsible for a setback in their relationship with one of Breland's most profitable allied states, so in your briefing, you were all asked to approach him diplomatically rather than use force or coercion. You've been authorized to offer Praxle honorary professorship at Morgrave University in Sharn, along with a salary that has been back-dated by twenty-five years, but beyond that, your team will be on the hook for any promises that you make to the academic.

Thankfully, your trip from the Observatory's secret base has been swift, for House Lyrandar has provided you with your very own airship and crew for any critical missions. The Rowan's Price - purchased outright by the Brelish crown and put into service for the King's Citadel - has been conscripted by Project Onatar. It is on her deck that you now stand, watching the countryside of Zilargo far below. She cuts an elegant figure through the sky; as she must pass for a civilian ship she has no weapons but is equipped for speed and comfort. The heat of the flames burning in the bound ring near the vessel's stern is a reminder of your purpose, as is the thrum that rattles through the soarwood planks from the great Khyber dragonshard housed belowdecks.

According to your charts and navigators, you are less than an hour from touching down in the city of Korranberg itself, where your mission will truly begin.

Spoiler: Praxle Arrant d'Sivis - History DC 16

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Praxle Arrant d'Sivis is a Zil gnome professor and lecturer at Korranberg University, specializing in alchemy and natural sciences. The retired doyen of Blackdragon - the alchemical college of the Library of Korranberg - Praxle still teaches several seminars on elemental transformation and para-natural phenomena. He splits his time between Blackdragon and Balinor's Horn, the college of natural science in the Library quarter of Korranberg. He has no immediate family members or visible political ties, but is followed everywhere by a devoted half-orc servant and bodyguard by the name of Jeffers that he picked up somewhere on his adventures.

Spoiler: Erben, Aerik, Kayne

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The exact personnel involved in Cyre's Violet Stars Programme is considered above top secret. There are only a handful of individuals in the King's Observatory who are even aware that the 996 YK Mournland mission retrieved a partially complete (and heavily encoded) list of researchers, artificers and engineers. Most of the decrypted names on the list were killed in the Mourning, but Praxle Arrant d'Sivis was identified by name in the logs as the author of a technique known as 'explosive binding', which was apparently integral to the Cyrans' first operational orbital space probe. It is vital to get Praxle on board your project, not only for his method of binding but for anything else he may know about the VSP.

It is also a surety that other agencies will eventually seek Praxle out for their own efforts if they haven't done so already, much for the same reasons that your organization wants him.

Spoiler: Elemental Binding - Arcana DC 12

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Elemental binding is a craft mastered so far only by the gnomes of Khorvaire. For years, House Cannith has sought to learn the hidden alchemies behind elemental binding but has had no true success in the matter. Elementals are bound so that their energies may be used to power the device to which they are connected. Khyber dragonshards are commonly used in elemental binding magics. Elemental binding is the core drive behind all modern transportation: both the Orien lightning rail and the Lyrandar airships and elemental galleons use bound elementals to propel themselves faster than ever thought possible.

The airships of House Lyrandar are the most recent public invention featuring elemental binding, first produced toward the end of the Last War in 990 YK. House Lyrandar enlisted the help of the Zilargo gnomes to power their soarwood ships and created the wondrous vehicles that fly over the Five Nations today. Airships use an air elemental or fire elemental bound to a ring between two struts toward the back of the ship and an artificer or bearer of the Mark of Storm is required to force the elemental to move the ship in the manner desired.

Spoiler: Gharial, Stalwart, Kayne

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In order to launch a spaceship from Eberron out into space, there is a great need for engines capable of producing exceptional amounts of force. Although Project Onatar has been experimenting with ship models with multiple bound elementals in their hidden laboratories, by Merrix's calculations - corroborated by chief arcanowright Stalwart and the rest of their team - it will not be enough to achieve escape velocity from the pull of Eberron's gravity. Fortunately, Praxle Arrant d'Sivis published a paper a few months ago on a new technique known as 'explosive binding'. In his paper, Praxle describes the theoretical ways in which specially treated Khyber dragonshards can drain an elemental of its essence far beyond the normal threshold for a short-term exponential boost in power. Unfortunately, Praxle's work is vague on some of the specifics of the process - likely deliberately - thus necessitating his recruitment.

[(Un)Inspired]

Damn fine day for open skies, Gharial Lagrange, thinks, with the closest approximation of jollity he possessed, to himself. The rapidly greying half-elf unbuttons his studded leather coveralls down to his waist and lets the morning air streak across his bare arms. His right a dizzying, almost glowing, knotwork that was his Greater Dragonmark of Storms; his left adorned by a somewhat faded naval tattoo of a frigate and a boarding pike crossed over the phrase “HELL AND HIGH WATER”.

He drains the last of the grog from his glass, a helmsman must always stay hydrated, and decides that the earthbound have had enough relaxation (Gharial has been at the helm since several hours before dawn, he currently doesn’t trust his assistants to properly pilot through daybreak).

Let’s see who got their air legs. He whispers to the spirits of the ring, and with a flick of his wrist, waggles the entirety of the Rowan’s Price port to starboard, simulating a quick bout of turbulence.

Utterly deadpan he turns to his helm crew. Mr. Martine, weather report. Ms. Bacher, I want all senior officers to attention at the helm. It’s time for final preparations before landfall.

Spoiler: OOC

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History Roll: (1d20+2)[4]

[Starbin]

Aerik "The Doctor" Remsley

The severe-looking elf sat cross-legged on the floor, staring blankly at the wall in front of him, covered with several notes, documents, images, and other files. He hadn't moved for several hours, entering his trance shortly after nightfall prior to their last travel day. The room was smaller than some, but certainly more room than he normally needed, given his penchant for sparse quarters and austere living conditions. The chaos on the wall was not his norm, but did speak to the urgency or importance of whatever task he had bent his mind to.

A shift in the air currents lifted the airship slightly, and the ship groaned in response. At the creaking wood, Aerik's eyes snapped open, immediately focusing on the pages on his wall. A quick glance around the room confirmed he was alone, and his door remained closed. Returning to the wall, his eyes scanned across the information rapidly, narrowing in on a few notes he had taken after his conversation with Tinkertot over the past two days.

• Praxle Arrant d'Sivis, gnome professor and lecturer
• Currently employment: Professor/Lecturer at Korranberg University
• Specializes in alchemy and natural sciences
• Retired doyen of Blackdragon; also instructs at Balinor's Horn
• Top expert in elemental transformation and para-natural phenomena
• No immediate family members; always attended by half-orc bodyguard (Jeffers, no leverage)
• No observed political ties
• Zilargo celebrity, but known ‘loner’
• Certified genius, vain and self-assured, all but ostracized for insular self-reliance
  SENSITIVE
• Critical asset (VSP, ex binding, practical applications, current status?)

With a wave of his hand, a glowing Fey-like hand move across the room to bring him a flask. He took a long pull, the water cool and refreshing. He seems as frustrated they didn’t know more about d’Sivis - lack of the appropriate Intel could a disaster for the expedition. He knew their lead in this technological race was marginal at best, and the gap would shrink quickly as time marched on.

He peered at the picture of an arrogant looking gnome, the smaller figure shadowed by a large half-orc in dapper clothes. His gaze shifted from Praxle’s imperious, haughty stare to the predator focus of Jeffers own gaze. "The obvious key is the servant ... but question - how to compromise arch outspoken loyalty? Answer - manipulation and subterfuge ... allude to safety concerns regarding the gnome and his interests?

Alternatively, focus manipulation techniques on target’s ego and vanity. Offering immortality via official documentation or public recognition in association with key academic facilities...”

The ship suddenly tilted left, then overcorrected to the right before stabilizing. Frowning, the chirurgeon waved and the hand quickly gathered all the papers while he listened for the sounds from outside that might indicate some sort of meteorological phenomenon that could be responsible. However, given his few interactions with the pilot to date, Aerik felt the movement was more in line with the man’s flippant attitude. The announcement that followed requested the officers’ presence, which strengthened Aerik’s hypothesis.

Hopefully this bored child figures out we have a mission to perform ... and his antics will have limited support to our efforts.

The glowing hand continued to flit back and forth, collecting all the sheets into a small portfolio, then depositing that into his room safe. Once the documents were secured, Aerik rose and dressed in his silver and black robes and departed his room to join the others.

---

OOC - Jumping into it ...

Spoiler: Status

Show

AC 16 HP 59 Init +2 Move 30’ Passive Per 25
Saves: Str +0 Dex +5 Con +2 Int +4 Wis +4 Cha -1
Skills: Investigation +4, Religion +4, Insight +7, Medicine +10, Perception +10, Deception +2, Intimidation +2
Tools: Herbalism, Thieves
Sneak attack: 2d6
Cunning Action: Dash, disengage or hide as bonus action
Mage Hand Leger: hand can be invisible and perform 'thieving' actions as C/A bonus
Weapons: rapier (+5 / 1d8+2P); knives (5 / 1d4+2P), warhammer (+3 / 1d8B), shortbow (+5 / 1d8P)
Channel divinity 3/3 (Turn undead, destroy CR 1/2; touch of death, w/melee attack add 15 necrotic damage)

Spoiler: Spells

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Prepare 9 spells, DC 15 / +7, 4-1st / 3-2nd / 2-3rd
0th: ray of frost, mage hand, minor illusion, prestidigitation, toll the dead, sacred flame, guidance, thaumaturgy, chill touch
1st (x4): false life, ray of sickness cure light wounds, healing word, guiding bolt
2nd (x3): blindness/deafness, ray of enfeeblement, silence, enhance ability,
3rd (x2): animate dead, vampiric touch dispel magic
AT: silent image, color spray, witchbolt (DC 12, +4)

Effects: 60’ darkvision, adv vs charms, immune to sleep

[CozJa]

Erben d'Velderan

Two days on a ship weren't usually Erben favourite idea about how to spend time but, as it often happens, one has to make do with what he gets in life.
Apart from the frequent moments in wich he woke up just after he fell asleep (a result of his habit of being always ready for trouble) he couldn't complain about the voyage or the company. Some of the faces in this mission were new, but Erben took care to earn as much informations as possible on them; also, Aerik presence was a positive point for him, good to have somebody to trust if things went dire.

To be honest, the ship's captain doesn't look exactly like the most dependable man in the world, but first impressions can be misleading. Sometimes Erben remembers that he initially found himself more at ease with Cio than Aerik, and look at how it ended up!
"Well, thanks Kor, your ability to hook me up with the best fellas in high society never cease to amaze me!" he thinks to himself, while he is standing on the deck with a Galifar in his hand.

Now that the voyage is almost over and they are approaching their goal, the Tharashk man couldn't resist his urge to keep everything under control, and has been above deck since a couple of hours; recollecting his thoughts and thinking about their mission.

He launches the Galifar in air, and takes it back with the other hand, alternatively repeating this solitary game, while the ship is moving.

"So the professor wrote this paper..." One launch of the Galifar, and it rests on his right hand.
"It may be some kind of coded proposal, gnomes are masters in deceit another launch of the Galifar, it rests on his left hand.
"Especially written ones. If that's the case, he may have an auction in mind." third launch of the Galifar, it rests on his right hand.
"And if he is the one on auction, we need to have the perfect offer for him..." fourth launch of the Galifar, it rests on hif left hand.
"... or we make sure nobody else wins." fifth launch of the Galifar, it rests on his right hand.
"Well, maybe his servant could be an alternative w..." sixth launch, the ship swerves off to starboard, Erben quickly catches the Galifar mid-air with his right hand.
"...mh, train stopped." he thinks, interrupting the flow of his thoughts.

He puts the Galifar back in a pocket, and looks at Gharial with an amused expression. "Well done, looks like gaming time's almost over."

[Sen isSaqqara]

Alone in his rooms, Kayne Riston sits in a large, overstuffed armchair. A light hangs over one shoulder, and a pair of reading glasses hang on his nose. On a small side-table to his right, an empty cup sits next to two piles of dossiers: one read, the other yet to be. In his hands, its contents turned out to the gentle light, is the dossier on Erben d'Velderan.

He had started, half an hour earlier, with the less substantial folder detailing the details of d'Sivis. It annoys him to work with such incomplete information, and he has made a note reminding himself to prioritize learning more about the gnome. That note finds itself in plentiful company. The last page in any given dossier is a hand-ciphered sheet of Riston's own observations and thoughts, and reminders to himself. He is not, in all honesty, quick enough for the cipher to be particularly difficult to break, but it lets him feel somewhat safer from quickly-prying eyes.

Broadly speaking, he doesn't need to be reviewing d'Velderan's dossier. It's more that once he starts re-reading his files, it just feels more satisfactory to give them all a quick review. More complete, perhaps. He likes the feeling, especially if it's a first review before he gets up to address a new day.

The ship jostles, suddenly, and his free right-hand jumps out to steady the empty cup on the side-table. Once he is sure it is safely stable again, and the turbulence stops, he turns his focus to footsteps coming down from the helm. He returns the crewmate's call with a simple "Just a moment. I'll be along shortly." He hasn't finished his reading, after all. He is more or less done with the folder marked d'Velderan, (he's read all his team's dossiers many times over by this point,) and he puts it down on the first pile, picking up the one remaining item from the second. Its cover is marked Stalwart. He opens it, resting the spine on his left palm, and readjusts his glasses. Just a quick review, then, he resolves to himself.

[Zero Prime]

Stalwart, Warforged, Lead Siberys Arcanowright AC: 22 | HP: 63 | CURRENT: 63 | HIT DIE: 4d8; 4d6 | CURRENT: 4d8;4d6 PASSIVE PERCEPTION: 9 | PASSIVE INSIGHT: 9 | PASSIVE INVESTIGATION: 16 SPELL SLOTS: 1st: 4+1/4+1 | 2nd: 3/3 | 3rd: 2/2 | 4th: 1/1 Active Effects: Arcane Ward (11 HP's). Conditions: None. The morning of 10th Zarantyr found Stalwart in their quarters, up earlier than normal. A sequence of images, disjointed, troubling, and ephemeral, haunted the Arcanowright through the darkest hours of night. Only the vaguest impressions of the images remained with them when they exited their sentry's rest, impressions of fire, calamity, and a great, yawning darkness, an incomprehensible vastness stretching out around them. As was their custom, Stalwart, upon exiting their inactive period, made a subtle gesture, a journal, pen and quill, floating gently towards the desk at which they had been reviewing the dossier on Praxle Arrant d'Sivis, and his research article published in the Korranberg Chronicle. Ignoring, for the moment, their personal notes on d'Sivis' research, began to record the vague impressions, images, and that nauseating feeling, a sense of wonder, horror, and awe. Some would call the journal a dream journal, with derision, however, Stalwart was aware of two facts, the first being that Warforged did not dream, not in the manner that other sentient species experienced dreaming. The second fact, being that their keen intellect was always functioning, even if below their own conscious awareness, constantly analyzing, correlating, and these images, as unfamiliar as they seem, could be a clue to their own thoughts, an answer to a question that Stalwart, themselves, had yet to ask. Stalwart's took some time to record their thoughts, the disjointed images, thoughts, and the feelings they had evoked. Satisfied, Stalwart, ensured their robes were properly aligned, their tools, components, and devices appropriately secured, and stepped to the main deck. Lifting their head, cold, emerald green eyes regarded the Siberys Ring, suspended above them, and so brilliantly clear in the early hours of the day. They paused, momentarily, head cocked, listening for an echo, a resonance, with the Shard's that they had felt in the past. A sudden shift in the soarwood deck beneath their feet, Stalwart, instinctively reached out, to grasp a rail, his massive hand splintering the wood beneath his grip. They shot a venomous look towards Helmsman Lagrange, was that? A flask? A glass? An hour from docking? Stalwart made mental note, to ensure the incident would be thoroughly documented in their debriefing report. Such an unprofessional demeanor was not appropriate for so crucial a mission. Shaking their attack, they proceeded to Dr. Remsley's quarters, the good doctor had been highly recommended to Stalwart by Lt. Dallison. As they contemplated knocking, the door swung inwards, and the Doctor, dressed in silver and black stepped into the hall. Stalwart inclined their head, "Doctor, this unit was just hoping to speak with you in regards to our mission, and our effort to recruit this d'Sivis to our cause." A pause. "Have you had opportunity to read his research."

[3SecondCultist]

At the behest of its pilot, the Rowan's Price twists gracefully through the air, each deft turn of its Wheel of Wind and Water causing a correlational movement through the entire skeleton of the airship. In the ship's cabins, papers and books fall from desks, unsealed cups tumble and spill their contents on the floor, and anything not nailed down jostles and falls slightly out of place. After a few moments, the ersatz storm subsides and the vessel settles back into a steady course southward.

"Yes sir, give me a moment," replies the meteorologist with a hint of bared teeth at the aerial display. Saal Martine in many ways resembles a typical Reacher: clad in weathered leathers that have seen their fair share of road, with sturdy boots and a warm cloak. A simple length of yew is tied to his back, to be used on the ground as support and weapon both. The scruff and dirt on his face do a good job concealing his age, which one might suspect is rather the point. Martine cups his hands close to his face, whispering something to himself before releasing his invisible incantation to the sky. Above the Price's helm coalesces the image of a golden orb, with only the barest trace of passing cloud.

"Looks like it's smooth sailing all the way in, sir." There is no mistaking the smile this time. "Apart from some rogue winds."

Meanwhile, those not already on their way up to the flight deck receive a few firm knocks on their door from the second of Lagrange's subordinates. Colette Bacher's glossy blonde hair and melodious Fairhaven accent are directly at odds with her workman's trousers, creased leather gloves, and the sheathed wands at her belt. She has several pockmark scars around her left eye; anyone who has worked a forge recognizes them as healed burn marks. Bacher invites the rest of you to join Lagrange up at the ship's bow, as you will soon be making your final descent to your destination.

As the minutes pass, you gradually congregate around the helm of the Rowan's Price. There you are graced by daybreak with a sight reserved for those who travel by sky: an ever-unfurling expanse of horizon. To the west, vistas of rolling hills dotted with copses of trees and low-lying farmlands. If you peer closely enough, you can catch glimpses of the winding cerulean line that is the Orien lightning rail that runs down from Zolanberg. Beyond that, the landscape darkens as the hills are swallowed by the dense temperate forests of Zilargo's heartland. But it is the east that captures the imagination. There the gentle highlands become ever more vertiginous, giving way to jagged crags and sun-kissed peaks. The Seawall Mountains are aptly named; for all their cliffs you see not one overland pass wide enough for a caravan, and there are too many summits for even an airship to make such a journey safely.

Then, as your eyes adjust to the view, you realize that you aren't just looking at mountains. From those same peaks emerge the outlines of massive towers, fortresses and visages of fanged conquerors. Carved right from the rock, the goblinoid statues stand at attention, hundreds of feet tall and stone-clad in ancient armour. Many of the figures have crumbled, their arms and features eroded by the weather of centuries. Yet even in their faded grace there is some splendour; though the empire that built them is little more than a memory, the sentinels still keep their watch.

Spoiler: Paluur Draal - History DC 18

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The statues mark one of the entrances to the once-great city of Paluur Draal, which lies beneath the border of Zilargo and Darguun. This ruined capital, extending far below the surface of the earth, has belonged to gnomes, humans, kobolds, and originally the hobgoblins of Dhakaan. The goblinoid nation of Darguun maintains a historic claim on the city, yet has ceded over many of its upper districts to researchers from the Library of Korranberg. The Library has subsequently acquired vast information about the Dhakaani Empire from Paluur Draal, and many believe there is much more to discover. However, a great deal of it has yet to be unearthed.

[Starbin]

Aerik "The Doctor" Remsley

The doctor paused as the warforged approached him outside his cabin. Stepping forward and closing his door behind him with an audible click, he acknowledged Stalwart with a slight bow of his head.

"Good morning, Master Engineer. While I have read the files on d’Sivis, I have not reviewed all his research - it is not my current bailiwick. However, what did you wish to discuss specifically?”

---

On the deck

The conversation with Stalwart still at the forefront of his thoughts, Aerik completely missed the crumbling statues they flew past. The discussion had sparked a dawning realization - d’Sivis was offering his resume to potential employers! He had obviously been waiting for the great nations to start their own efforts and now was fishing for an opportunity to cement his place in history. It was clever - those who were serious would know the value of his accomplishments and approach him; those who did not would highlight their o lack of progress.

That meant this is as no simple recruitment - this was a race for resources as rare as any dragonshard. And the hourglass was emptying quickly ...

---

OOC - back into it!

Spoiler: Status

Show

AC 16 HP 59 Init +2 Move 30’ Passive Per 25
Saves: Str +0 Dex +5 Con +2 Int +4 Wis +4 Cha -1
Skills: Investigation +4, Religion +4, Insight +7, Medicine +10, Perception +10, Deception +2, Intimidation +2
Tools: Herbalism, Thieves
Sneak attack: 2d6
Cunning Action: Dash, disengage or hide as bonus action
Mage Hand Leger: hand can be invisible and perform 'thieving' actions as C/A bonus
Weapons: rapier (+5 / 1d8+2P); knives (5 / 1d4+2P), warhammer (+3 / 1d8B), shortbow (+5 / 1d8P)
Channel divinity 3/3 (Turn undead, destroy CR 1/2; touch of death, w/melee attack add 15 necrotic damage)

Spoiler: Spells

Show

Prepare 9 spells, DC 15 / +7, 4-1st / 3-2nd / 2-3rd
0th: ray of frost, mage hand, minor illusion, prestidigitation, toll the dead, sacred flame, guidance, thaumaturgy, chill touch
1st (x4): false life, ray of sickness cure light wounds, healing word, guiding bolt
2nd (x3): blindness/deafness, ray of enfeeblement, silence, enhance ability,
3rd (x2): animate dead, vampiric touch dispel magic
AT: silent image, color spray, witchbolt (DC 12, +4)

Effects: 60’ darkvision, adv vs charms, immune to sleep

[Zero Prime]

Stalwart, Warforged, Lead Siberys Arcanowright AC: 22 | HP: 63 | CURRENT: 63 | HIT DIE: 4d8; 4d6 | CURRENT: 4d8;4d6 PASSIVE PERCEPTION: 9 | PASSIVE INSIGHT: 9 | PASSIVE INVESTIGATION: 16 SPELL SLOTS: 1st: 4+1/4+1 | 2nd: 3/3 | 3rd: 2/2 | 4th: 1/1 Active Effects: Arcane Ward (11 HP's). Conditions: None. "Good morning, Master Engineer. While I have read the files on d’Sivis, I have not reviewed all his research - it is not my current bailiwick. However, what did you wish to discuss specifically?” Stalwart nodded, by way of greeting, turning to escort the good Doctor towards mid-ships, "Master d'Sivas' theorems are frustratingly vague, and have not been supported by peer-review. Therefore they are unsubstantiated claims, as we begin the process of recruitment, we do need access to his research. However, as an Arcanowright, myself, we, as a rule, are loathe to discuss our research in detail, nor inclined to provide access to our theories and formulae." As they spoke, the massive Arcanowright paused, noticeably, causing a brief observation to become a slow, ponderous litany of introspection. "We shall need to be cautious in our approach, requiring both proof of concept, and confirmation of exclusivity, without revealing the nature of our own great works, nor what stage of development the project is currently in." After expressing their concerns, Stalwart took a moment to enjoy the scenery as the ship began to descend, a magnificent view, a glorious palette of colors reflecting from the clouds above and below, reflecting from the dawning sun, Arrah. An auspicious beginning, a sight, Stalwart surmised, that many airmen were accustomed to, but could cause, even in their own manufactured chest, a sense of both awe and reverence. Looking to the east, the prodigious Stalwart, noted the colossal graven statues of Paluuur Draal's Warrior-Kings, who have stood as silent sentinels for centuries and now served as an eternal vigil for the once great, now ruined, city. They reflected on the enormity of time, of the past and the future blending into this moment, that these silent sentinels, who had witnessed the formation of the Dhakaani empire, millennia ago, would bear witness to the birth of a new era, in which the people's of Eberron would soon reach out from their home, into the great unknown the existed between the stars. They nodded slowly, at each, committing their faces, their names, to memory, it was a time of reflection, of great wonder, and infinite potential. A changing of the guards.

[Sen isSaqqara]

Once he's finished with his reading, Riston makes his way to the helm to meet the others. His attention is on the ship around him, and on the lucky die he fumbles with in one of the many pockets of his large, casual, but still distinctly military overcoat. He takes note of Aerik and Stalwart chatting, and decides not to interrupt them for now beyond a quick nod of the head. Instead, he strolls over to where Gharial stands by the helm. Falling into position beside the helmsman, he asks quietly: "Trouble, Lagrange?" He lets his vision be drawn out to the mountainous visages as he listens.

[Starbin]

Aerik "The Doctor" Remsley

The doctor listened quietly, letting the warforged finish before he responded. "You concerns are valid, and something we should all be cognizant of. Perhaps later you can educate the entire team on the key elements of d’Sivis’ research that would prove his value to our efforts.”

Aerik knew the gnome’s resume was already verified, but that didn’t change the fact that Stalwart was correct to point out those concerns. Besides, it couldn’t hurt to have the team smarter on what to look for in the days to come.

---

OOC - Response to Stalwart

Spoiler: Status

Show

AC 16 HP 59 Init +2 Move 30’ Passive Per 25
Saves: Str +0 Dex +5 Con +2 Int +4 Wis +4 Cha -1
Skills: Investigation +4, Religion +4, Insight +7, Medicine +10, Perception +10, Deception +2, Intimidation +2
Tools: Herbalism, Thieves
Sneak attack: 2d6
Cunning Action: Dash, disengage or hide as bonus action
Mage Hand Leger: hand can be invisible and perform 'thieving' actions as C/A bonus
Weapons: rapier (+5 / 1d8+2P); knives (5 / 1d4+2P), warhammer (+3 / 1d8B), shortbow (+5 / 1d8P)
Channel divinity 3/3 (Turn undead, destroy CR 1/2; touch of death, w/melee attack add 15 necrotic damage)

Spoiler: Spells

Show

Prepare 9 spells, DC 15 / +7, 4-1st / 3-2nd / 2-3rd
0th: ray of frost, mage hand, minor illusion, prestidigitation, toll the dead, sacred flame, guidance, thaumaturgy, chill touch
1st (x4): false life, ray of sickness cure light wounds, healing word, guiding bolt
2nd (x3): blindness/deafness, ray of enfeeblement, silence, enhance ability,
3rd (x2): animate dead, vampiric touch dispel magic
AT: silent image, color spray, witchbolt (DC 12, +4)

Effects: 60’ darkvision, adv vs charms, immune to sleep

[(Un)Inspired]

Gharial rolled his shoulders backwards and forwards as he waited for the senior staff to reach the helm. The feel of the mithral plates shifting under his skin as he stretched was something he was still getting used to.

As the various people assemble in front of him, Lagrange waits until all arrive to speak. When it is apparent that no one has been pitched overboard, a crocodilian grin begins to curl at the edges of his mouth as he looks the assembled officers up and down.

Good.
You’ve all got decent sets of sea legs. As Ms. Bacher has informed you we are less than an hour from Korranberg.
I may be the captain of this ship, he says as he pats the railing near the helm lovingly, but landside, you are all equal partners in this enterprise. We don’t yet know each other well, but I have absolutely no doubt that we are experts in our respective fields.

I’ve asked our steward to come by with drinks for a toast for our first mission, an old navy tradition for good luck.

After the steward brings each member of the party (and helmcrew) their drink, Gharial raises his glass.

We’re all here for the same mission: to escape Eberron’s desperate pull, and to be the first to sail beyond the clear blue sky. Let’s hope finding the professor, and every step after, goes smoothly, but if it doesn’t, I know we’ll all do whatever it takes to achieve our goal. Whatever it takes to reach Siberys!

To reach the heavens, let’s raise a little hell!

With that cheer, the Khorovar pilot downs his glass, and gives a sturdy nod to the assembled team. He resumes his position at the helm, and with hand on wheel turns back for a final word.

Before I forget to mention it, we are docking at Korranberg Landing Platform 13. It used to be the city’s preferred docking spot, but since the Mourning, an unpredictable wind has run down the Seawall Mountains across it and made it… cumbersome for making landfall. Staying there will save the expedition a great deal on docking fees however. Those of you who cannot fly, brace yourself for the final approach.

Mr. Martine, wind report; Ms. Bacher, calculate approach vector.

[CozJa]

Erben d'Velderan

As they approach the massive statues of Paluur Draal, Erben remembers the first time he saw them, during a mission when he was still a mercenary. Their stern appearance may invite reflection and awe to other men, but the Tharashk tracker first thought goes at the goblinoid division they fought that time

"Hell of a fight... let's hope this time you're going to bring me luck!"

He joins the other group, and takes the glass offered by the generous captain, and raises it at the toast, though he waits for Gharial to drink first, before drinking himself.

When the captain gives them the last instructions Erben controls his weapons, hoping he won't need them, looks at the others, and prepares himself for their rocky landing.

[Starbin]

Aerik "The Doctor" Remsley

On the bridge ...

The doctor stood impassively listening to Lagrange's speech, seemingly unmoved by the call to tradition. However, once the glass was raised, he raised his own and took a drink, all in one smooth move. Upon finishing, he glanced out the windows, a slight frown upon his face. "Financial concerns aside, Captain, will this platform impede our ability to depart quickly, should the need arise?"

Operational security concerns aside, Aelrik was concerned about their ability to make a swift departure on the off-chance that negotiations were less than amicable.

---

OOC - Response to the toast

Spoiler: Status

Show

AC 16 HP 59 Init +2 Move 30’ Passive Per 25
Saves: Str +0 Dex +5 Con +2 Int +4 Wis +4 Cha -1
Skills: Investigation +4, Religion +4, Insight +7, Medicine +10, Perception +10, Deception +2, Intimidation +2
Tools: Herbalism, Thieves
Sneak attack: 2d6
Cunning Action: Dash, disengage or hide as bonus action
Mage Hand Leger: hand can be invisible and perform 'thieving' actions as C/A bonus
Weapons: rapier (+5 / 1d8+2P); knives (5 / 1d4+2P), warhammer (+3 / 1d8B), shortbow (+5 / 1d8P)
Channel divinity 3/3 (Turn undead, destroy CR 1/2; touch of death, w/melee attack add 15 necrotic damage)

Spoiler: Spells

Show

Prepare 9 spells, DC 15 / +7, 4-1st / 3-2nd / 2-3rd
0th: ray of frost, mage hand, minor illusion, prestidigitation, toll the dead, sacred flame, guidance, thaumaturgy, chill touch
1st (x4): false life, ray of sickness cure light wounds, healing word, guiding bolt
2nd (x3): blindness/deafness, ray of enfeeblement, silence, enhance ability,
3rd (x2): animate dead, vampiric touch dispel magic
AT: silent image, color spray, witchbolt (DC 12, +4)

Effects: 60’ darkvision, adv vs charms, immune to sleep

[3SecondCultist]

Under morning's first embers, the five of you stand by the airship's helm and toast to your success. The drink that the stewards fetched turns out to be Orgalese spiced rum, a perennial favorite among the corsairs of the Lhazaar Principalities. It burns the moment it passes your lips, but there is a smoky sweetness that lingers on the palate. Even Stalwart - who has no need to drink as a warforged, but is certainly capable of the act - feels a peculiar sensation somewhere deep inside them. The stars and statues watch on as the captain of the Rowan's Price puts to words an oath: to get beyond this realm, whatever it takes.

Gharial Lagrange's words prove true sooner rather than later. As you make your last preparations and gather your gear to make your landing, the topography shifts below you. Before long the Seawall Mountains to the east are swallowed by an azure gulf: the depths of the distant Thunder Sea. Teal waters and white shores mark the curling coastline of Thurim Bay, and ahead the isthmus of the Seawall River, the flatlands rising to join the grasslands. With every league the Price passes, the ship loses some of its altitude in a gradual decline, and soon your journey's end comes into sight.

The city of Korranberg may not be Zilargo's capital, but it is certainly the oldest and many believe the most important. Nestled between four hills that abut the Seawall River, the gnome settlement straddles both banks of the waterway. From the edges of each hill emerge low curtain walls that surround the inner city, but even from a prodigious height it's obvious there are no major fortifications to speak of. In fact, from above you can tell that Korranberg is a city that has never seen war. If the tree-lined roads that wind through the hills and untouched outer villages didn't give it away, the pristine domes of coloured stone certainly would. Though you have far outpaced the lightning rail, you also spot an elegant stone hall built into of the northwestern hilltop where the conductor stones end, flanked by several smaller manors before opening up into a terraced, open-air marketplace.

Despite its age and prestige, Korranberg boasts few towers that rise above three storeys. One stands at the riverbank at the city's heart, a pillar of flowing stone and verdigris that surround four faces of brilliant coloured glass on several sides. The other looms over one of the outer walls, and is bustling with miniature figures. The Lyrandar docking tower has many berths available, but Lagrange's words prove true; as the Price begins to approach the city several dancing lights appear in the sky, the tower attendants create a path of glowing arrows to guide the ship towards Platform 13. Thankfully, the weather proves favorable, and the great craft glides gently into its resting place. The lines are cast out and caught, and before long a boarding bridge is extended.

"A good Zor to you all! You are thirteen minutes early, Rowan's Price," comes a voice from a figure on the tower balustrade. A female gnome, standing barely above three feet and decked out in a petticoat and grass-colored scarf, strides across the platform to greet you. "I'm Sara-Lyssa Clebdecher, adjunct secretary to the Library of Korranberg's administrative office. The message said you'd be coming, and that you had some business with the Library but didn't go into detail. How can we be of service?"

[(Un)Inspired]

Gharial gives the placid weather the sort of look a lion tamer might give an overbred show dog. Nonetheless, he docks the Rowan’s Price with the care of a parent tucking in a newborn. We shall save the fun for more worthy weather conditions, he thinks to the spirits of the ship as he gives the wheel of wind and water a final squeeze.

As you can see Doctor, we will have a clear path skyward if we have need of it. If anything DP 13’s reputation we’ll keep the more cowardly skyjocks out of our wake.

While no actual smile crosses Lagrange’s lips, a twinkle does appear in his eye at the gnome’s comment on his flight time. Observant and to the point. Maybe that old Cyrian saying is true. “Paradise is where the police are all Thrannish, the chefs are all Ghallandan, the engineers Brelish, the lovers Aundairan, and it’s all organized by Zilargo…

[Zero Prime]

Stalwart, Warforged, Lead Siberys Arcanowright AC: 22 | HP: 63 | CURRENT: 63 | HIT DIE: 4d8; 4d6 | CURRENT: 4d8;4d6 PASSIVE PERCEPTION: 9 | PASSIVE INSIGHT: 9 | PASSIVE INVESTIGATION: 16 SPELL SLOTS: 1st: 4+1/4+1 | 2nd: 3/3 | 3rd: 2/2 | 4th: 1/1 Active Effects: Arcane Ward (11 HP's). Conditions: None. We’re all here for the same mission: to escape Eberron’s desperate pull, and to be the first to sail beyond the clear blue sky. Let’s hope finding the professor, and every step after, goes smoothly, but if it doesn’t, I know we’ll all do whatever it takes to achieve our goal. Whatever it takes to reach Siberys! To reach the heavens, let’s raise a little hell! Stalwart watched the toast impassively, accepting the glass placed into their hand, their head cocked strangely to the side as cold, gemlike eyes regarded the Captain. They appreciated the sentiment, however, socialization, celebration, these were things that still escaped their nature, their full understanding. With a flat affect, the warforged added their voice to those raised in cheer, however, after a cursory sampling of the amber liquid, that left them with a startlingly new sensation, not unpleasant but unexpected in it's intensity. The goblet, however, was placed on the gunwale, largely unconsumed, as they began their descent into Korranerg, changing their heading towards Platform Thirteen. As they adjusted their Arcanowright robes, ensuring proper placement of the artisan tools, and devices with which they used to calibrate their various inventions and infusions. Stalwart concentrated as the crew began to moor the Rowan's Price, summoning forth an apparition of force, through sheer force of will, weaving threads of power, force, and spirit, to conjure a translucent figure. Invisible to casual observation, appearing as a shimmer, as if the sun's heat reflected from stone, or steel, this servant, unseen, trailed behind Stalwart, and to their left, observing, waiting for their conjurer's commands. "A good Zor to you all! You are thirteen minutes early, Rowan's Price," comes a voice from a figure on the tower balustrade. A female gnome, standing barely above three feet and decked out in a petticoat and grass-colored scarf, strides across the platform to greet you. "I'm Sara-Lyssa Clebdecher, adjunct secretary to the Library of Korranberg's administrative office. The message said you'd be coming, and that you had some business with the Library but didn't go into detail. How can we be of service?" Stalwart inclined their head at the diminutive liaison, "Adjunct Secretary, your presence is appreciated. There is much to discuss, though, perhaps, it should be conducted at your offices, as it involves a member of your faculty."

Spoiler: Out of Character Actions

Show

OOC: While we're mooring, Stalwart will ritually cast Unseen Servant, and ensure it is carrying their writing kit for dictation. It's not uncommon for them to use the ritual to record their observations for later, indepth, review, so seeing a floating writing kit beside them, and isn't anything new for their companions.

[Starbin]

Aerik "The Doctor" Remsley

The doctor didn't move or speak as the others engaged with the gnome bureaucrat. While Stalwart's suggestion of a private audience was a smart one, he was concerned that the team had yet to flesh out the finer details of their cover story. 'Academic technical interchange' would only take the team so far - at some point, someone would ask more pointed questions that he certainly was not in a position to answer. The d'Sivis publication was the starting bell, and the race was on. The question was who would either find the appropriate leverage to garner the gnome's participation - carrot ... or stick.

He glanced around the assembled team, wondering if Risten was going to speak up, or if the Engineer would continue to act as the liaison. They still needed more information regarding d'Sivis and his servant/bodyguard, as well as. Only then would they be able to determine how best to garner the gnome's support, willingly or otherwise. There mission was too important to leave empty-handed ... and certainly not leaving a living d'Sivis behind.

---

OOC - Just some internal thoughts

Spoiler: Status

Show

AC 16 HP 59 Init +2 Move 30’ Passive Per 25
Saves: Str +0 Dex +5 Con +2 Int +4 Wis +4 Cha -1
Skills: Investigation +4, Religion +4, Insight +7, Medicine +10, Perception +10, Deception +2, Intimidation +2
Tools: Herbalism, Thieves
Sneak attack: 2d6
Cunning Action: Dash, disengage or hide as bonus action
Mage Hand Leger: hand can be invisible and perform 'thieving' actions as C/A bonus
Weapons: rapier (+5 / 1d8+2P); knives (5 / 1d4+2P), warhammer (+3 / 1d8B), shortbow (+5 / 1d8P)
Channel divinity 3/3 (Turn undead, destroy CR 1/2; touch of death, w/melee attack add 15 necrotic damage)

Spoiler: Spells

Show

Prepare 9 spells, DC 15 / +7, 4-1st / 3-2nd / 2-3rd
0th: ray of frost, mage hand, minor illusion, prestidigitation, toll the dead, sacred flame, guidance, thaumaturgy, chill touch
1st (x4): false life, ray of sickness cure light wounds, healing word, guiding bolt
2nd (x3): blindness/deafness, ray of enfeeblement, silence, enhance ability,
3rd (x2): animate dead, vampiric touch dispel magic
AT: silent image, color spray, witchbolt (DC 12, +4)

Effects: 60’ darkvision, adv vs charms, immune to sleep

[CozJa]

Erben d'Velderan

Korranberg view may be next to nothing for those who see Sharn everyday, but the Tharashk finds the city fascinating, and takes sometime before they finish their flight to appreciate the landscape.

As they are approached by Sara-Lyssa Clebdecher, Erben nods to salute her, then starts looking around the place, considering the fastest escape routes they could use, in case they need them. As Stalwart answers the gnome with a perfectly neutral answer, advancing the useful request of leaving the open space they are in, he places himself beside the doctor, for him, the most well known member of the crew, and exchanges a quick glance with him, then waits for the Adjunct Secretary reaction.

The dance has started.

[Sen isSaqqara]

Riston turns the now empty rum-glass over between his fingers. It feels almost like a die, though he cannot help but feel like he would drop it and shatter it if he tried anything fancy. Instead, he hands it back to a steward.

While his normal instinct is to make introductions, Stalwart's instinct towards privacy feels correct here. Riston decides to keep quiet for the moment, watching to see how the others act on their own initiatives. He may be, in name, a leader, he has no wish to be overbearing. Besides, this team is supposed to be the best available. When the Secretary moves to leave, he'll follow at the back of the group, making sure nobody gets left behind.

[3SecondCultist]

For the barest moment the gnome's face shutters closed, but it returns to an amiable resting place before a heartbeat has passed. Clebdecher nods promptly, dispelling any trace of hesitation. "Very well then. If you would please follow me, I'll see what it is the Library can do to see to your request. Please mind your step." With that she turns on her heels and begins striding towards the floating lift to take you down to the street level. As you step onto the circular lift at the center of the docking tower - leaving the crew of the Rowan's Price behind to guard the ship as agreed - a uniformed magewright calls out an arcane command word and suddenly you've entered a smooth descent through the open-air structure. Several half-elves in kraken livery salute Gharial from the various floors and docking berths on your way down; while none stop your party, you hear acclaims of 'stormborn' and 'brother khoravar' from those that pass you by.

Exiting from the Lyrandar tower, you find yourselves amid Korranberg's gentle bustle. The first thing that stands out to you as you take note of your surroundings is that although the city is owned by gnomes - and indeed, there are at least twice as many gnome figures in view as members of any other race - most of the buildings look to have been constructed for larger folk. The inns and shops here have points of entrance and egress well over six feet in height. Humans, elves, warforged, even larger species such as the odd half-giant have been accommodated for in the very architecture.

The second thing you notice is that despite this being ostensibly the foreign traveler's quarter, the city streets are all well-kept. Wrought iron lamp-posts with everburning lanterns and pedestals with cleansing stones stand at regular intervals, ensuring that every corner is well-lit and free of dirt. What's more, every window is affixed with panes of glass and there are no buildings of shoddy stone or wood, only smooth, well-carved brick and mortar. In fact, you see no signs of any homeless people or run-down slums of any kind. There aren't even any guards around, and the only bared weapons in sight are either strapped to you or worn by other outsiders.

Put together, the evidence points to a single conclusion: the city of Korranberg is quietly, comfortably wealthy.

Clebdecher, seeing where your attentions lie, adjusts her scarf and gives a little smile. "There is no crime in the cities of Zilargo. Truth be told, it is the safest country on the continent. Will you be staying in town for long? I can recommend a few local places to stay, or if you'd prefer there is a Ghallanda Golden Dragon establishment not too far from the docking tower."

Spoiler: Passive Perception 18

Show

On your way out of the docking tower, a pair of gnomes bump into Stalwart. It looks like one of them might have slipped a hand into his pocket before disappearing into the crowded marketplace.

[Zero Prime]

Stalwart, Warforged, Lead Siberys Arcanowright AC: 22 | HP: 63 | CURRENT: 63 | HIT DIE: 4d8; 4d6 | CURRENT: 4d8;4d6 PASSIVE PERCEPTION: 9 | PASSIVE INSIGHT: 9 | PASSIVE INVESTIGATION: 16 SPELL SLOTS: 1st: 4+1/4+1 | 2nd: 3/3 | 3rd: 2/2 | 4th: 1/1 Active Effects: Arcane Ward (11 HP's). Conditions: None. "There is no crime in the cities of Zilargo. Truth be told, it is the safest country on the continent. Will you be staying in town for long? I can recommend a few local places to stay, or if you'd prefer there is a Ghallanda Golden Dragon establishment not too far from the docking tower." Stalwart's head swung too and fro, taking in the marvels of Korranberg's structured construction, while it did not rival the sheer majesty of Sharn's towers, there was an indescribable sense of order to the movements of it's citizenry. Responding to the Adjnct Secretary, Stalwart slowed their pace, "While it has never been a great desire of mine to visit Korranberg, now that I find myself here, I feel as though that was an," a pause, "oversight. It is both marvel, and testament, to the triumph of education, logic and reason, a well structured, organized, and responsive city, with, if all as is you say, an equally admirable citizenry." "I," the large, slow speaking warforged arcano-wright, continued, "for one am eager to experience your hospitality, and would enjoy your suggestions for accommodation, and, perhaps, a tour of the famed Library, so named after your most welcoming metropolis."

[Sen isSaqqara]

Kayne follows along at the back of the group, strolling along at a leisurely pace compared to the ol' hard march, hands in his pockets and something approaching a smile on his face. Nobody's looking, so a little grin surely can't hurt. That said, while he's lived in his fair share of nice places since retiring, he can't seem to feel comfortable. Perhaps it's being back on a mission again after all this time. Certainly, his heart is beating a bit faster in anticipation of the upcoming meeting. He tries not to let his eagerness show. Best to keep a businesslike face until the business is done.

[Starbin]

Aerik "The Doctor" Remsley

As Clebdecher espoused the crime-free society, Aerik's eyes were drawn to two figures approaching the group, a little too nonchalant. He tensed, murmuring under his breath as he gestured downward and called upon an invisible appendage. As the two passed by, one bumped into the warforged, a hand slipping into one of the pockets. With a narrowed gaze, Aerik glanced at their escort, then back into the crowd, where the two gnomes had already disappeared. If this was a pickpocketing situation, the hand-off had already been made and there was little point in following them. Never chase a fish in its own pond, as one of his old teammates had once said.

However, he hadn't seen the gnome pull anything out. If they had stolen something, he was pretty sure he would have seen it. Unless ... Aerik glanced at Clebdecher, wondering if her comment had been a purposeful warning, delivered at that precise moment? Or simple coincidence? What if the 'theft' wasn't a theft? Perhaps a delivery? Who would want to give a message to this group? A man seeking employment opportunities, that's who. Or someone warning them off ...

He glanced around, noting one of the particularly large buildings and he leaned over to Erben, murmuring something with a smile. "The architecture is fascinating, but like any palace it probably has rats. Sunshine glittering off raven black twin spires in the morning while mice swipe at the cheese from traps in the wardrobe. Poor dears, they're gone before the master sees and the cheese remains. As they say, 'if she's seen it once, she's seen it twice, grab the cheese forget the mice!' Typical of every big city."

Spoiler: In Cant

Show

Theme - everything is not as it seems. Situation - two thieves tried to robe the warforged. Results - thieves got away clean. Request - distract our guide. Warning - keep your eyes open...

Aerik waited for Erben to react, but if the man didn't do anything, after a moment he finally whispered icily, "Distract the guide, please".
Once his companion tried to get Clebdecher to turn her attention away for a moment, he sent his invisible hand to slip into the warforged's pocket with a thought to retrieve anything that was there.

---

OOC - Just trying to get back whatever was slipped in there ... not sure if you get advantage from using an invisible mage hand (a la Mage Legerdemain), but here's a Sleight of Hand check (1d20+2)[10]

Spoiler: Status

Show

AC 16 HP 59 Init +2 Move 30’ Passive Per 25
Saves: Str +0 Dex +5 Con +2 Int +4 Wis +4 Cha -1
Skills: Investigation +4, Religion +4, Insight +7, Medicine +10, Perception +10, Deception +2, Intimidation +2
Tools: Herbalism, Thieves
Sneak attack: 2d6
Cunning Action: Dash, disengage or hide as bonus action
Mage Hand Leger: hand can be invisible and perform 'thieving' actions as C/A bonus
Weapons: rapier (+5 / 1d8+2P); knives (5 / 1d4+2P), warhammer (+3 / 1d8B), shortbow (+5 / 1d8P)
Channel divinity 3/3 (Turn undead, destroy CR 1/2; touch of death, w/melee attack add 15 necrotic damage)

Spoiler: Spells

Show

Prepare 9 spells, DC 15 / +7, 4-1st / 3-2nd / 2-3rd
0th: ray of frost, mage hand, minor illusion, prestidigitation, toll the dead, sacred flame, guidance, thaumaturgy, chill touch
1st (x4): false life, ray of sickness cure light wounds, healing word, guiding bolt
2nd (x3): blindness/deafness, ray of enfeeblement, silence, enhance ability,
3rd (x2): animate dead, vampiric touch dispel magic
AT: silent image, color spray, witchbolt (DC 12, +4)

Effects: 60’ darkvision, adv vs charms, immune to sleep

[(Un)Inspired]

Walking down from the docking platform, Gharial draws out a thin, Brelish cigarette, and stares at the tip with a frown until it bursts alight (Prestidigitation). Upon being greeted and praised by his fellow Khorovar, his typical granite-like expression of hardened disinterest cracks into a slight grin and he waves out, conjuring a powerful gale of wind (Gust) towards the seamen. Strong tailwinds for you, brothers!

Looks like people still know who the winds belong to. It is good to be walking among people again.


His rather jolly mood persists until he spots a duo of minuscule ruffians stuff their detritus into Stalwart's pocket. His mask of cool reserve resumes its favored spot across Lagrange's face as he measures his diminutive guide's words against the actions he had just witnessed. It was hardly his first trip to Korranberg but rarely was the gnomish superiority complex so blatantly, hypocritically on display. He draws in smoke deeply before laying out his words.

This isn't my first trip to Zilargo, Ms. Clebdecher, but I have to admit, it's the first in which I've heard of its freedom from crime. Can you tell me, is there no crime because Zilargo doesn't bother outlawing what tall people would consider illegal? The way those two urchins just rifled through my ship's engineer's clothes would be a crime punishable by having a hand removed in Karnath.

[Zero Prime]

Stalwart, Warforged, Lead Siberys Arcanowright AC: 22 | HP: 63 | CURRENT: 63 | HIT DIE: 4d8; 4d6 | CURRENT: 4d8;4d6 PASSIVE PERCEPTION: 9 | PASSIVE INSIGHT: 9 | PASSIVE INVESTIGATION: 16 SPELL SLOTS: 1st: 4+1/4+1 | 2nd: 3/3 | 3rd: 2/2 | 4th: 1/1 Active Effects: Arcane Ward (11 HP's). Conditions: None. The large warforged was nonplussed at the entire situation, however, once their attention was called to it, they placed their hands within their robe. A series of intricate, hand gestures, and a singular word of power, and a small, mechanical object appeared to their right, the size of a hummingbird, it whirred and clicked, as it's insect-like wings flapped, a curious cross between ornithopter and dragonfly. It took up an orbit around the crown of Stalwart's head, given the telepathic command to observe and warn it's creator of any threat or theft from their person. After taking stock of their possessions, Stalwart turned to his unseen servant. "For the records, the adjunct secretary is suitable mortified at the lack of decorum, and respect, shown to her guests. The delegation found no reason to pursue further reparations against their host." As quill, began to record the Arcano-wright's thoughts he nodded to their guide, "Please, continue, such diversions are of little concern."

[CozJa]

Erben

As the group advances through the city, Erben looks alternatively at the surrounding buildings and his companions and, with as much attention as he can put on everything, he fails to notice the two street urchins.
But he doesn't fail to notice Aerik reaction to... something.

He nods at the warforged words, trying to make some sense of them in his mind

"Ok, given the situation, there are two possibilities, one, the only person in the whole group I know and trust has gone mad and is uttering nonsense, or two, Aerik forgot again that I don't know all his fancy languages... let's hope for the best"

Still looking at the warforged and nodding to his words, he answers with an Orcish curse word, to remind Aerik where his linguistic abilities lie.
After his friend answers him with a colder tone, the Tharashk man picks up on it and turns to Ms. Clebdecher, but he notices that their fearless captain has already been capable of turning attention on the worst topic(s) in Zilargo: the gnomes' policekeeping. And the gnomes' tallness. And how Karrnath is better.

"... Well done Mr. Lagrange..." he thinks, "on the bright side, Aerik has not gone mad!"
Then he walks a bit faster to reach the Adjunct Secretary and speak after Stalwart last remarks

"Adjunt Secretary, I'm sure we all would really, really like to discuss with you about a possible future tour of this city, but, as you can see, we still need to understand how things work here. Don't we?" He says, turning to Gharial.

[Starbin]

Aerik "The Doctor" Remsley

The hand pulled a small note from the warforged's pockets when Lagrange opened his mouth and inserted a half-giant's boot. Aerik's eyes snapped to the captain with withering disdain as the paper hovered there for a moment, but the look was lost on the man, shielded by his own snark and ego. As eyes all turned towards Stalwart, Aerik pulled the letter back to him as quickly as possible, but everything was moving in slow motion. The paper floated behind the warforged, missing the engineer's attention by mere moments as he reached a metallic hand into his pockets. The rest of the group all watched with confused looks as the paper flitted back towards the doctor. Even Clebdecher turned, ready to address the Captain's blatant accusations, her eyes raising up ...

... to have her line of sight blocked by Erben who stepped in to smooth over the situation. Even as a wave of relief washed over the doctor, Aerik met the eyes of his confused companions as the paper reached his hand, raising a finger to his pursed lips with a quick shake of his head. Putting the letter inside his robes, he continued to follow the group, never missing a step as they moved. As he waited for the inevitable reply from Clebdecher, Aerik too a few mental notes.

First note, develop or obtain a method to communicate secretly. The cant provides one possible option, but magical means may be more efficient and better protected from interception. Second note, ensure our group realizes knowledge of a thing is important, but sharing that knowledge recklessly is less than supportive to our mission goals. Third note, while I am certainly not suited to diplomatic engagements, perhaps the Captain is not the best solution either.

---

OOC - Hopefully that fits the evolving situation ...

Spoiler: Status

Show

AC 16 HP 59 Init +2 Move 30’ Passive Per 25
Saves: Str +0 Dex +5 Con +2 Int +4 Wis +4 Cha -1
Skills: Investigation +4, Religion +4, Insight +7, Medicine +10, Perception +10, Deception +2, Intimidation +2
Tools: Herbalism, Thieves
Sneak attack: 2d6
Cunning Action: Dash, disengage or hide as bonus action
Mage Hand Leger: hand can be invisible and perform 'thieving' actions as C/A bonus
Weapons: rapier (+5 / 1d8+2P); knives (5 / 1d4+2P), warhammer (+3 / 1d8B), shortbow (+5 / 1d8P)
Channel divinity 3/3 (Turn undead, destroy CR 1/2; touch of death, w/melee attack add 15 necrotic damage)

Spoiler: Spells

Show

Prepare 9 spells, DC 15 / +7, 4-1st / 3-2nd / 2-3rd
0th: ray of frost, mage hand, minor illusion, prestidigitation, toll the dead, sacred flame, guidance, thaumaturgy, chill touch
1st (x4): false life, ray of sickness cure light wounds, healing word, guiding bolt
2nd (x3): blindness/deafness, ray of enfeeblement, silence, enhance ability,
3rd (x2): animate dead, vampiric touch dispel magic
AT: silent image, color spray, witchbolt (DC 12, +4)

Effects: 60’ darkvision, adv vs charms, immune to sleep

[3SecondCultist]

As Aerik's spell levitates what appears to be some kind of folded note from Stalwart's pocket, both Gharial's interruption and Erben's impeccably-timed blocking prevent Clebdecher from noticing the withdrawal. The parchment reaches the elf's hand without incident; despite the broad daylight and passers-by, nobody else on the street seems to have perceived the display of magic. The whole exchange takes less than a few seconds from start to finish.

The secretary blinks twice at the charges implied by your pilot's rejoinder, but her smile doesn't waver one iota this time as she dips her head in acquiescence. "If someone has bumped into any of you, I apologize. This is a busy borough, and accidents happen despite our best intentions. If you plan to report something stolen, I'm sure the Library can arrange to have someone seek you out later." Clebdecher's eyes turn to Gharial's and hold them. Then she is off once more, waving you all along behind her as you resume your trek through Korranberg's streets.

Judging by the position of the ascending sun on your right, the Library Quarter is in the northern portion of the city as you press on. All told, the trip is fairly straightforward. There aren't any twisting alleys or big detours; as a matter of fact, you spend the whole journey on a number of spacious avenues that reticulate across the gnome metropolis. Yet the many leafy facades of low stone buildings - many painted in bright colours - seem more a maze than even the City of Towers. Only two landmarks stand out. The first is the gentle flow of the Seawall River to the east, its cerulean surface winking at you. The second is the solitary spire near the city center: you recognize it as the one you spotted on your airship's descent. Clebdecher calls it out as Triumvirate Tower when you pass, so named after the council that rules Zilargo.

And then you arrive at the Library, and suddenly the rest of the city falls away. It lies between the two farthest hills of Korranberg, the silhouettes of the mountains rising in the far blue distance beyond. In truth the Library resembles a town of its own, its many lawns and gardens interspersed between its shops and cottages. But since this town has grown up to serve the very particular needs of its academics, a careful observer might note small differences in the services it provides. For instance, there are two glassblowers, three fully stocked apothecaries, two binderies, four booksellers, two brothels, and a truly disproportionate number of taverns.

The Library itself consists of about fifteen buildings that bear little resemblance to each other. One has a circular central hub with eight wings radiating in each direction like a compass rose. Another is simple and square, high stained glass windows showing scenes of a gnome in a pool of sunbeams, speaking to a conclave of students gathered below. Several other facilities have wings and walls cobbled together over centuries, pale bricks cloying with ivy. Yet the largest building sits square in the center of the district: a windowless edifice of grey stone, titanic in footprint but no more than two storeys tall. Its densewood doors stand wide open, warm golden light beckoning you in. Over them, chiseled deep into the rock, are three words: 'Santhi fa Enor'.

"Welcome to the greatest knowledge bank on the continent," announces Clebdecher. "Each of our faculties operate as an independent college, but our central building here is the home of our administrative offices. It is also where all of our texts are housed, in warded vaults of course. Would you like to come inside, and we can discuss your needs in greater depth?"

Spoiler: The Library of Korranberg - History DC 12

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The Library of Korranberg is a research library that is the largest repository of knowledge in Khorvaire. The library's buildings take up a quarter of the city of Korranberg in Zilargo, and is a source of gnomish pride for citizens of Zilargo and Korranberg. In addition to being a research library, the Library of Korranberg also has eight colleges, each focused on a particular field of study, that attract students from across the continent.

The eight colleges and their subjects are:

• Aureon's Holt (law and oratory)
• Balinor's Horn (natural sciences)
• Blackdragon (alchemy)
• Drystone (engineering)
• Lyrris (art and literature)
• Morridan (mathematics)
• Soladas (history)
• Tabernacle (religion and philosophy)

Spoiler: History DC 16

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The library of Korranberg was founded by Loremaster Dorius Alyre ir'Korran long before the founding of the Kingdom of Galifar. Dorius was an adherent to the belief that the deities of the Sovereign Host were dragons who ascended to godhood, and created the library so that he himself might ascend to take the place of Aureon. His family and the city-states of Zilargo supported his efforts, intrigued by the idea of having the greatest library in the world, and after Dorius's death they continued to grow and expand the library. Zilargo's deadly police force - known as the Trust - originated as an oversight force for the library, and are known to watch it very closely.

Spoiler: Gnomish

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"Santhi fa enor" translates approximately to "Take nobody's word for it", a motto well known by researchers, scholars, and assorted academic types across Khorvaire.

[Starbin]

Aerik "The Doctor" Remsley

The note within his robes, Aerik kept silent as the group continued to head towards the Library. His gaze took in the grandeur of the the city as they journeyed, noting both the clarity of architecture on the main roads as well as the complexity of the side paths. Fortunately, the Triumvirate Tower and the river provided a great deal of context, and a possible method to find his way back to the ship, should the mission go sideways, or the group get separated.

When they reached the Library, he paused, marveling at the numerous buildings. He scanned them for any that screamed alchemy or natural science as they stood there for a moment. To Clebdecher's question, he didn't answer immediately, but after a few moments, he finally spoke. "An excellent suggestion, Madame Secretary. Before we adjourn, would you be so kind to orient us on your facilities? I think it would be valuable to provide a quick overview on each of the colleges and their functions, for those who have not been here before."

---

OOC - Hoping to see which buildings are which ... and we might want to consider if we want to commit the worst sin in an RPG and split up to find d'Sivis ...

Spoiler: Status

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AC 16 HP 59 Init +2 Move 30’ Passive Per 25
Saves: Str +0 Dex +5 Con +2 Int +4 Wis +4 Cha -1
Skills: Investigation +4, Religion +4, Insight +7, Medicine +10, Perception +10, Deception +2, Intimidation +2
Tools: Herbalism, Thieves
Sneak attack: 2d6
Cunning Action: Dash, disengage or hide as bonus action
Mage Hand Leger: hand can be invisible and perform 'thieving' actions as C/A bonus
Weapons: rapier (+5 / 1d8+2P); knives (5 / 1d4+2P), warhammer (+3 / 1d8B), shortbow (+5 / 1d8P)
Channel divinity 3/3 (Turn undead, destroy CR 1/2; touch of death, w/melee attack add 15 necrotic damage)

Spoiler: Spells

Show

Prepare 9 spells, DC 15 / +7, 4-1st / 3-2nd / 2-3rd
0th: ray of frost, mage hand, minor illusion, prestidigitation, toll the dead, sacred flame, guidance, thaumaturgy, chill touch
1st (x4): false life, ray of sickness cure light wounds, healing word, guiding bolt
2nd (x3): blindness/deafness, ray of enfeeblement, silence, enhance ability,
3rd (x2): animate dead, vampiric touch dispel magic
AT: silent image, color spray, witchbolt (DC 12, +4)

Effects: 60’ darkvision, adv vs charms, immune to sleep