Chapter 6: The Limitless Rise

[Dave W.]

Adamant pauses by old Wirtha and bends down to her height. "Good morning Wirtha." Adamant adds a soothing tone to his deep voice. "Olladra has favored us today. Master Condign needed to hear your message." Adamant glances at Condigan, "I'm sure he has a copper crown for you."
-----------------
Gotta love when the party splits.

[Ken]

Belarin is disappointed and visibly appalled at the sights in High Walls. "I've only read about destitution on this scale," he says to no one in particular as they walk. "Have these people been living like this the whole time since Cyre ... died? So much for advanced civilization. It's as you said, Adamant, no one race has a monopoly on callousness."

He says nothing when the crazed woman speaks; he just glances around to ensure that this is nothing more than insane rantings -- THOSE he can deal with.

[Brian]

"Rats and birds!" she shrieks at him. "The setting sun will seize your horizon!"

Condign looks to the skies. Birds he can handle. Rats are an entirely different story. Or worse: bats, which are nothing more than flying rats.

"Master Condign needed to hear your message." Adamant glances at Condign, "I'm sure he has a copper crown for you."

Condign looks at Adamant with barely disguised disdain. His hand dips into his money pouch and withdraws two copper crowns.

The tiefling approaches Wirtha. "Thank you, my lady. Your advice will be well-heeded. He who ignores such sage counsel will lament the decision." Condign reaches out and places the copper crowns in the old woman's hand.

Condign stands and looks to Belarin. "Shall we proceed?"

[Joe]

Streko clucks his tongue. "Don't get him started, Kal. We have had this discussion on numerous occasions. Poppa simply wants to stay close to his roots, as it were.

"We were never what you would call a wealthy family and we did all right by each other. Now that we are in a position to gain from something that wasn't worked for, although I would argue that it was indeed, a grea deal of painful work on my part, Poppa believed it was best to remain what we Tavvens have always been; halflings of the Talenta Plains. And, by Olladra's sparkling eye, this was the very best I could do and the absolute most Poppa would accept.

"We are a humble sort. Don't try to "civilize" us, young man or we shall return to the Plains from which we came!"

Streko takes a deep breath and sighs. "I must say I have come to agree with Poppa over the course of my travels. And seeing that they have, indeed, purchased a fine Eatery, despite some people's misgivings about the names of an item or two on the menu, as well as multiple floors for apartments and a thriving herbal business, I think they made the right choice.

"Momma and Poppa both seem happy and that makes me happy. That is all I can ask."

Uncharacteristically, Streko goes up to his mother nad gies her a tremendous hug and a kiss on her cheek.

"I have missed you. And, your wonderful cooking, of course. And your hospitality, as well. It felt good to be home, but there is still so much to do. My friends promised to help me find Varna and that goal was accomplished. Now, it is my turn to assist them in their endeavors."

"I will be as safe as I can be and do nothing that Olladra might frown upon. And this will always be home."

He kisses his mother again, then goes to his father and hugs him as well.

"I could not be more proud to be a Tavven, than I am at this moment."

[Ken]

Feb 15, 2010 1:05:00 GMT -4 Brian said:

Condign stands and looks to Belarin. "Shall we proceed?"

"Oh, this'll be fun," says Belarin. He's known Condign for only a couple of weeks, but it's easy to recognize from the tiefling's posture that he seems very uncomfortable around Adamant. "Yes, let's head back toward the restaurant. The brisk walk back will help me shed more of the weight I've gained from Esthryn's cooking.

"That is, Adamant, if your work now is done? By the way, how familiar are you with the rest of Sharn? Or have you kept yourself mostly to this area?"

[Jeff]

Adamant, Belarin, Condign

Belarin finds nothing amiss. The old woman's words seem nothing more; there is no trap or ambush. Just another lost soul.

Wirtha accepts Condign's coins without comment. She merely bobs her head at him...not quite a nod, but some sort of acknowledgement.

Before long, Adamant completes his errand and begins to lead Belarin and Condign back out of High Walls. As they pass through the main gate, the Watch observe them from a guardhouse above, saying nothing but eyeing them appraisingly.

Kal and Streko

It is simply that a dragonmarked heir of the house deserves more. He deserves to be treated properly, with respect, by his House. Don't you agree?"

"We were never what you would call a wealthy family and we did all right by each other. Now that we are in a position to gain from something that wasn't worked for, although I would argue that it was indeed, a grea deal of painful work on my part, Poppa believed it was best to remain what we Tavvens have always been; halflings of the Talenta Plains. And, by Olladra's sparkling eye, this was the very best I could do and the absolute most Poppa would accept.

Orval only smiles mildly at Kal. "I've spent my whole life a Tavven. I don't care to be much more than that." He gestures at Streko. "My boy's the Jorasco, as I see it. He deserves the opportunities I never had or needed. The gods have plans for him, and Olladra's blessed him personally, if you ask me. It's enough for me and his mum to know that. Does that make sense to you, Lord Kalarian?"

"We've been invited to attend some events in the Jorasco central quarters in...where is it again? Oh yes, Dragon Towers, up in Middle Central. Some of them are very nice people, and they do good work. But...it's not for us. House Jorasco is a business, not a family, not really. Not a family like we know it. They provide healing to those who need it, but always for a fee. There's no inherent kindness there, not at the heart of it." He looks at Streko and smiles. "Which is what makes my boy so unique. Serves Olladra and Jorasco both, finds the best of both worlds. The talent of healing, the inspiration of a goddess, the heart of a servant."

"And Streko has it right. We may have raised our children here in Breland, and we're all very fond of this nation. Has a good king, has a good attitude, all around. But my grandfather was from the Plains, and I was there as a wee boy myself. I remember it, and hold onto it. We try to keep the traditions as we can. It's enough." Orval reaches out and pats Kal on the shoulder.

Both Orval and Esthryn seem aglow after Streko's displays of affection. Kal realizes that he's never seen his family quite like this. There is love, but it's more internal. His parents are Sentinel Marshals, his eldest brother, too. All have gone their own ways, scattered to the winds on the needs of House Deneith.

"If you get hurt," his mother warns him, speaking in the halfling tongue. "I'll be very upset with you. Stay behind Adamant, you hear me? He's as solid as a Talentan behemoth, and harder than a rock."

Everyone

Soon enough Adamant returns with Condign and Belarin. It's a little past the hour mark, but everyone seems to be ready.

Varna returns as well, though her appearance elicits an instant cluck of disapproval from Esthryn. Streko's sister is clad in a well-tailored suit of black leather armor. From its well-oiled appearance, it looks newly purchased, free from tears or the creases of extensive usage. Although it's modest in coverage, the suit clings to the small woman's body almost too perfectly.

"Not a word, mother," Varna says. "This is armor. I thought you'd want me to be safe."

To Belarin, Kal, and Condign, Varna's appearance reminds them of Charis. The Thrane was not so willing to draw attention to herself, but the two women carry themselves in a similar, roguish fashion. A dagger hangs from the halfling's belt on one side, and a hand crossbow hangs from the other.

"I'm ready," she announces to your party. "Shall we walk it, or hail a coach?"

[Darren]

Kal gives Varna an appraising, and admiring, look. He looks away quickly when he sees Esthryn's eyes upon him, a slight blush coming unbidden to his cheeks. Quickly clearing his throat, he says, "Yes, let's take a coach this time. It's on me." He gives the elder Tavvens a quick nod and ducks outside.

[Dave W.]

sorry I'm a little behind. I just want to add one note to the Wirtha bit. It doesn't change anything.
Adamant nods at Condign. "Thank you Master Condign, you are quite generous." Still bent over, he says to Wirtha, "I'm afrraid we can't tarry this morning dear Wirtha, Luthwen will be around later, she will see to you. Host keep you well."

Once Condign, Belarin, and Adamant get out of earshot, Adamant leans towards Condign and in a quiet, calm voice says, "Please do not be angry. There are two very good reasons to not ignore Wirtha and her words. First, she has suffered horrificly, so terribly it has broken her mind. She needs and deserves our attention. I still hope she can be repaired.

The other reason is because sometimes the gods speak through the insane. I don't know why that should be but I'm told it is true. It may be that there is a message there. I would not ignore these words; though understanding them is another matter." 

[Dave W.]

Feb 15, 2010 11:21:54 GMT -4 Darren said:

[Kal] says, "Yes, let's take a coach this time. It's on me."

Adamant says to the elder Tavvens, "I will keep your children safe, you have my word."
He turns to Kal and lightly touches the symbol of his faith, "These coaches, are they, ummm, safe do you suppose? And do they accomidate such a large... group?"

[Brian]

Adamant leans towards Condign and in a quiet, calm voice says, "Please do not be angry."

"I am not angry," Condign replies. "I do not have an issue with what it is you do. It is obviously noble and good. I have an issue with what you are. You were not born. You were constructed of materials and then magically imbued with life. That means you may have some hidden purpose -- one of which you may not even be aware -- placed in you by your creator. Which means you are not to be trusted. No, I am not angry. But do not ask me to trust."

"Sometimes the gods speak through the insane. I don't know why that should be but I'm told it is true. It may be that there is a message there. I would not ignore these words; though understanding them is another matter."

"Whatever god created a poor wretch like her, made to suffer and babble insane ramblings with hidden meanings, must be twisted indeed."

"Yes, let's take a coach this time. It's on me."

"I will gladly take a coach," says Condign, "if my lord Kalarian is buying."

[Ken]

Feb 15, 2010 12:15:16 GMT -4 Dave W. said:

He turns to Kal and lightly touches the symbol of his faith, "These coaches, are they, ummm, safe do you suppose? And do they accommodate such a large... group?"

"Oh, let's take two if we have to!" says Belarin mischievously. "Kalarian will pay for it. Why, I can see that his pockets are practically bulging with coin right now. Off we go!"

[Dave W.]

Feb 15, 2010 12:44:04 GMT -4 Brian said:

"I am not angry," Condign replies. "I do not have an issue with what it is you do. It is obviously noble and good. I have an issue with what you are. You were not born. You were constructed of materials and then magically imbued with life. That means you may have some hidden purpose -- one of which you may not even be aware -- placed in you by your creator. Which means you are not to be trusted. No, I am not angry. But do not ask me to trust."

Adamant looks down (I'm assuming he's taller) at Condigan. In a gentle, neutral voice he replies, "I wonder if you could explain your own creation, how you were 'imbued with life', with out restorting to words that are akin to 'magic'. And what purposes did your creators instill in you?" He pauses a moment as though taking a deep breath, though that is clearly impossible. "Still your request is fair. I will not ask for you to trust me."

"Whatever god created a poor wretch like her, made to suffer and babble insane ramblings with hidden meanings, must be twisted indeed."

Adamant's eyes dim as he turns away from Condign, "No. You are wrong, she was not created in this condition. Some being or group of beings did this to her; to all Cyrans."

-------------------------------
Nice Brian.

[Jeff]

Orval describes how to find Gerus's shop in North Market, and you set out to find a coach. Near one of the wider avenues, which thread through the massive tower foundations, you find many to choose from. There's always a need to get to places in Sharn.

Five crowns for each passenger, Tangat included (totaling three sovereigns) purchases a coach ride to North Market. The seating is tight, but with the door hanging open Adamant is able to sit partially outside the conveyance and feel like he can's not so confined. It's a little funny looking, and draws a few looks from passers-by, but logistically it proves easier than purchasing two coaches. The driver even encourages one of you to ride atop the coach with him, relieving everyone within.

And then off you go, rattling above the cobbles, left looking at one another as a pair of horses pulls the coach along.

___________________________________


Adamant (6'5") is, in fact, exactly four inches taller than Condign (6'1"). Though Condign's horns certainly seem to increase his height.

[Darren]

Kal allows everyone to enter the coach ahead of him, but when he squeezes in, he strategically places himself next to Varna. "Cozy," he smiles at her.

[Brian]

Feb 15, 2010 15:41:11 GMT -4 Dave W. said:

"I wonder if you could explain your own creation, how you were 'imbued with life', with out restorting to words that are akin to 'magic'. And what purposes did your creators instill in you?"

Condign sits in the coach and thinks.

Adamant's question rests uneasily with Condign. The tiefling remembers the looks of fear and revulsion he's seen on the faces of others, based solely on red skin, gold eyes and horns. What intentions do they ascribe to him, simply because of his appearance? Not on who he is inside?

Condign hadn't expected such a eloquent and reasoned response from the warforged. He just did not think a construct was capable of such deep thoughts.

Condign had built a wall of caution from living with the dangers of the Demon Wastes. Doubt begins bump against that wall.

----------------------------
Dave, I knew I could trust you to point out the basic flaw in Condign's argument. Well done.

[Ken]

Feb 15, 2010 16:16:42 GMT -4 Jeff said:

The driver even encourages one of you to ride atop the coach with him, relieving everyone within.

That would, of course, be Belarin. ;D

"You seem like an experienced sort," Belarin says cheerily to the driver. He's clearly enjoying the sights. "Where can a foolish young man go to get himself in some trouble around here? Women and games of chance are preferred."

[Jeff]

"Where can a foolish young man go to get himself in some trouble around here? Women and games of chance are preferred."

"Hmmm," the coachman says, seeming to consider. "Lots of places. Pretty much anywhere. You lookin' for Upper City or Lower City? You're taking my coach, so I'm guessing Skyway's off your list." He chuckles at his own jest.

[Ken]

"Somewhere out of the gutter -- someplace sophisticated, but still well short of respectable," replies Belarin with a laugh. "What's your opinion of Dragoneyes?"

[Jeff]

The driver gives Belarin an appraising look. "Sure, you'll find...diversions in Dragoneyes. All the trouble you want. But I wouldn't trust no people in there...folks who go there don't stay overlong. And folks who don't stay can't be trusted. Those that live there...even less so, methinks. But if you want gambling, you picked the right. And, uhh...I hope you like changelings." He grins, revealing a gap between two teeth that looks like it was knocked, not rotted, out.

Within the coach, Varna gives Kal a smug look where she sits beside him. Her eyes flick over to his arm. "You really play up the dragonmark angle, don't you? Funny. I've spent most of my time running from it." She leaves the thought hanging for a moment, but offers no more.

Then she looks across at Condign, her eyes lingering on his horns. "You're really from the Demon Wastes, Condign? I've seen some tieflings in Sharn; not really sure where they're from, though."

[Brian]

Varna asked:

Then she looks across at Condign, her eyes lingering on his horns. "You're really from the Demon Wastes, Condign? I've seen some tieflings in Sharn; not really sure where they're from, though."

Condign looks at Varna, taking in the leather armor and the weapons hanging from her belt. She certainly gives the impression that she could handle herself in a fight.

"Yes, my lady Varna, I am indeed from the Demon Wastes, which in my language is called Fah'lrrg. I have only recently been in the Five Nations. Tell me, where have you seen these tieflings of which you speak?" Condign's tone suggests that the question is not a casual one.

[Ken]

Feb 16, 2010 8:04:02 GMT -4 Jeff said:

"But if you want gambling, you picked the right place. And, uhh...I hope you like changelings."

"Ah, yes," says Belarin with a chuckle. "I can't say I've developed a high opinion of them, but on matters of greed and chance, I suppose they're no less trustworthy than any other race. Thank you. How about yourself? Any favorite places?"

___________________
Belarin will drop this line of friendly questioning after the answer, steering the conversation toward local politics. When they arrive, he'll give the driver 1 sovereign for the information.

[Darren]

"Why shouldn't I enjoy it?" Kal asks Varna. "It is a symbol of my potential and of my power. If it helps others to see that, I see no reason to hide it." Kalarian pushes up his sleeve and looks down at the dragonmark. "Still, I know the pain dragonmarks have brought to you, personally, and I am sorry for that. We will continue to try to find those responsible, to make them pay for that. I promise you that."

Kal looks up, as though suddenly realizing there are others in the coach with him and Varna. Again, color finds its way to his face and he sits back to listen to Condign and Varna talk.

[Jeff]

Varna looks to Kal. "Truth is, you should play up who you are, Kal. Here in Sharn, the well-to-do are given every advantage; if you get in a tussle with a merchant in the Lower City, the Watch would probably take your side of the story, just because—assuming everyone walks away all right. Might as well use what you've got. Then again, in some, shadier places, your 'mark can make you a target. So be careful."

Tell me, where have you seen these tieflings of which you speak?

The halfling smiles. "Oh, here and there. The only place you're liable to find one is the Cogs..." Her eyes flick over to Adamant. "Along with warforged. Funny, that. But where the 'forged are usually content to work in those sweltering conditions without complaint, the tieflings who have to seek work there are, well...less content about it. Not so happy with their lots, I guess. They're not like you."

"But you could also try Deathsgate—that's where you used to work, right, Streko?—or Torchfire. If you want, I could probably connect you with one." She smiles impishly.

"I can't say I've developed a high opinion of them, but on matters of greed and chance, I suppose they're no less trustworthy than any other race. Thank you. How about yourself? Any favorite places?"

The driver shakes his head. "I ain't got no real interest in the heights of this city. I stick to Central and Menthis, and of course Tavick's Landing, where all the customers tend to come from. Don't go to Northedge too often." He gestures in the direction he's leading you. "It's a busy place, but all work and no play. And I'm not one for sittin' in the shadow of the dead."

"If you want a good start with some good drink, I'd recommend the Four Sails. It's a restaurant in Downstairs, in Lower Menthis. More color than you can imagine. The fellow who owns and runs the place is a Lhazaarite. He can tell you some tales, that's for sure."

[Dave W.]

Adamant sits stiffly, half in, half out of the coach. His back fills the doorway with one hand clamped to outside frame, the other hand has a vice-like grip on the back of bench he shares with Condign. He stares straight ahead into the cab, but not at any of it's occupants. The aquamarine gems that are his eyes have an added a greenish hue. It seems as though his thoughts are elsewhere.

[Ken]

Feb 16, 2010 18:40:21 GMT -4 Jeff said:

"If you want a good start with some good drink, I'd recommend the Four Sails. It's a restaurant in Downstairs, in Lower Menthis. More color than you can imagine. The fellow who owns and runs the place is a Lhazaarite. He can tell you some tales, that's for sure."

"Excellent advice, thanks again," says Belarin. "The Lower parts of the city seem to offer much better entertainment than anything the nobles could think of above." He gives the driver a conspiratorial smile. "As far as I'm concerned, only people who really work could know how to really have fun."

[Jeff]

On the subject of the Lhazaar Principalities, Adamant, Belarin, Condign, Kal, and Streko know:

The Lhazaar Principalities, located in the northeast corner of Khorvaire (far east of Karrnath and very far from Sharn), are typically thought of a single sovereign nation, but they are more a loose affiliation of separate island states. The Principalities were once part of Galifar, but they broke away at the start of the Last War. Historically, they are a haven of pirates, privateers, and questionable merchants.

The Principalities are so named because each island state is run by a loose monarchy of sea-princes. Of these, the most famous, and legitimately acknowledged, is High Prince Ryger ir'Wynarn—who, like the monarchs of the Five Nations, is of royal Wynarn descent. He is lord of the Seadragon Principality but is nominally considered the leader of all the Lhazaar Principalities. A claim many would dispute.

From what he's been told, Condign also knows:

Though the Principalities existed as a loose alliance of territories under Galifar, the Last War saw those alliances fall apart. After fighting amongst themselves for control of the islands, the sea princes looked to turn the chaos of the war into financial gain. Whether by engaging in open piracy or hiring out as privateers to the warring Five Nations, the princes established themselves as independent powers. But after the war, many have allowed themselves to fall back under Prince Ryger, in order to keep their hard-won freedom.

_______________________________

History check: Belarin (1d20+4=12), Adamant (1d20+1=11), Condign (1d20+9=16), Kal (1d20+7=9), History (1d20+5=11)

[Darren]

Kal looks admiringly at Varna. "You seem to know a lot about dragonmarks for someone who doesn't have one. Did you do some kind of research during your journeys?"

[Jeff]

You seem to know a lot about dragonmarks for someone who doesn't have one. Did you do some kind of research during your journeys?"

Varna shakes her head slightly. "I don't know that much. I was...sought because I was connected to Jorasco by blood, somehow. Because it was thought I might yet develop the Mark of Healing." She stares out the window, and says nothing more.

A short while later the coach rolls across the final bridges into the district of North Market. While the numerous towers of Sharn rise up and block most of the sky just about anywhere in the Lower City, Northedge looks marginally darker still, as sunlight seems to be cut off by the natural canyon walls that support and surround the city like a defensive border.

"North Market," the driver says, stopping the coach and accepting Belarin's one-sovereign tip. He waits for each of you to get out, then gives an ear-splitting whistle to turn his horses around as he searches for another fare.

At this late morning hour, you find North Market to be a hive of commercial activity. It's mostly an open-air market, the kind of place where merchants and crafters come from regions near Sharn to set up temporary stalls for a day, a week, a month. There are some permanent shops, like the one the Tavvens have sent you to find, but they're obviously further in.

The buildings here looked weathered with age, perhaps more so than in other parts of the city. The cobblestones are a patchwork job, worn down, paved, and paved again. Although there's a lot of people in the streets here, it's not quite as loud as elsewhere

The transit district of Terminus had showcased the diversity of Sharn, but here you're seeing the racial diversity at practice. You see a pair of hobgoblins in regular clothing, not armor, haggling with customers. Elves, half-elves, gnomes, and dwarves make up the majority of nonhumans, but you also notice a larger percentage of shifters in the mix.

You see members of the Watch, liveried in blue and gold, keeping an eye on things.

[Darren]

Kal takes a look around, turning his head in all directions to try to take everything in. "Well, this place looks like it could be fun," he says with a grin, "but we are here to do a job, so we might as well get to it. Varna, would you lead the way?"

[Ken]

Belarin has the same grin as Kal as he looks around. "Well, it is still morning," he says as they walk. "If this ends up being a simple matter, we should still have plenty of time to browse. Unfortunately for us, 'simple matters' are as rare as a dwarf with good teeth, but hope springs eternal."