Chapter 6: The Limitless Rise

[Brian]

Kalarian said:

"We are here to do a job, so we might as well get to it."

"Agreed," Condign says. "My lord Streko's parents have put their faith in us. We must not dishonor such a gesture." Then he smiles to the others. "And if truth be told -- should the cause arise -- my battle skills could use some exercise." Condign shrugs back his cloak, making sure access to his longsword is unobstructed.

[Dave W.]

Adamant scans the crowd, his aquamarine eyes glow bright blue again. He takes in the diversity of the crowd. "At least we won't stand out here."

Responding to Condign's comment regarding battle skills, "Well, let us hope the need does not arise, but being prepared is wise."
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Adamant scans the crowd for any obvious threat. Insight or Perception?
Insight: 1d20+10=19
Perception:1d20+5=11

[Joe]

Streko finally smiles after his quiet journey, listening, taking in the sights and recalling his previous time in this woundrous city.

"Olladra favors those whoare prepared, Adamant. It is indeed a wise plan of action. Alas, fortune being the fickle mistress, sometimes no manner of preparation is sufficient for what you will face. That was a difficult lesson to learn for me and it took a bit of pain before it finally sank in. Olladra will only do so much and oft times, Her interests conflict. We must prepare for any eventuality. This includes abandoning whatever plans we have readied ourselves for in favor of a different action."

His thoughts spoken, Streko returns to silence. Again, it seems as if he is absorbing the world around him rather than focusing on anything or anyone specific.

[Jeff]

Adamant sees no one in the crowds that looks to be a threat. The only heavily armed people appear to be bodyguards of individual merchants, perhaps those who've had run-ins before. But there seems no lurking danger here.

Belarin:

Unfortunately for us, 'simple matters' are as rare as a dwarf with good teeth, but hope springs eternal."

Varna grins up at Belarin. "I know some dwarves I'd love to hear you say that around."
Streko:

This includes abandoning whatever plans we have readied ourselves for in favor of a different action."

Varna nods her head at her brother, a smile touching the edge of her lips. "I'm very glad you didn't choose Aureon as your patron, Streko. You'd be a lot less fun."

Then she leads off through the crowd. Varna hasn't been to this shop before, but she knows better than anyone else in your group how to follow the instructions her parents gave you in finding it. Once you're past the thick of the crowds, you enter a junction where two wide streets cross one another—where "wide" is a relative term in the dense districts of this city. On one corner is a sizable inn named the Horse & Hearth. Just beneath the large, embossed letters in the sign is the crest of House Ghallanda. It looks to be a respectable place, with more travelers than locals going in an out of the place. "So that's where the H&H is," Varna says, more to herself.

"We need to go north and east of here," she says to you. The she marches boldly over to an elderly woman who likes neither like a traveler nor a merchant—probably a resident of the district. She exchanges a few words with the woman, gives her a couple of copper pieces, and comes back. "This way."

As you continue to follow Varna, she looks over her shoulder. "So was Fherina right? Have you battled the undead before?" Then she looks to Kal specifically. "And zombies in Shadowcrest Manor...that true?"

_______________________________

No need for a roll just now, Dave. In general, every character's got a "passive" check, an ongoing, automatic Insight and Passive number that follows them everywhere. (Equal to 10 + the skill modifier.) That applies pretty much all the time.

Also, an "obvious" threat wouldn't need a roll anyway. It would be...obvious.

[Darren]

"We've battled the undead more times than I'd like," Kal responds. "As for Fherina, well, much of what she said was correct. In some places she would embellish, and on occasion she would simply make up facts to fill in the blanks, but she was with us for a time and she did have the general story. There was one, in particular, an Emerald Claw captain named Davin who I actually had the misfortune to encounter twice. The first time I met him, he was alive. The next time, he was undead. He seemed to hold a particular grudge against me." Kal winks at Varna. "I can't imagine why. Still, as you can see, I'm still here and he's not. It must have been very embarrassing for him to be bested by me twice."

[Ken]

Feb 18, 2010 8:44:18 GMT -4 Jeff said:

Belarin:

Unfortunately for us, 'simple matters' are as rare as a dwarf with good teeth, but hope springs eternal."

Varna grins up at Belarin. "I know some dwarves I'd love to hear you say that around."

"No fears here," says Belarin. "If accused, I'll simply look shocked and say, 'HE said it!'" He points at Kalarian, smiling wickedly. "I can be very convincing."

He walks along, enjoying the many sights, sounds, and smells. "I've been to the most interesting places in the past few weeks." He looks at Condign and asks, "Anything close to this in your land?"

[Darren]

Kal gives Belarin a mock bow and a grin when he straightens.

[Brian]

Belarin:

"I've been to the most interesting places in the past few weeks." He looks at Condign and asks, "Anything close to this in your land?"

Condign looks around at the open-aired market with all the activity, sounds and smells. He sees too many opportunities for an attack; too few defensible positions.

He answers his friend's question: "No, my lord Belarin, there is nothing even remotely like this in the Demon Wastes. There is too much mistrust, too many opportunistic individuals. A gathering such as this would soon devolve into crossed swords and bloodshed." Condign scans the crowd. "Before my journey to the Five Nations, had one of my brethren within the Ghaash'kala described such a sight to me, I would have assumed he was jesting."

That said, Condign drifts to the back of the group to take up a rear guard.

[Jeff]

The crowds grow thinner the deeper into the district you go. Soon coaches and beasts of burden give way only to pedestrians, and then even they become scare. Only a few people here and there.

Eventually as you near the far end of the district, the tower foundations give way and you catch sight of the shadowed canyon wall the indicates the end of North Market and the outer rim of the City of the Dead. The few shops around here are quiet and dark, despite the late morning hour.

One shop you do see with lights still on is your destination: A painted wooden sign—illustrating a broken gauntlet that's glowing gold—informs you that the name of Gerus's shop is Shining Detritus.

[Darren]

"How does anyone manage to make a living around here?" Kal asks, looking at the nearly deserted streets. He pushes his hair, which has recently grown long, out of his face. "Okay, on we go. I'm sure that whatever is going on here shouldn't be any problem for the likes of us, hm?" As always, a mischievous grin appears on the young man's face. He starts towards the shop.

[Dave W.]

Adamant will try to stay near both the Tavvens as much as possible.

"I still hope to avoid combat, but if the situation does arise, how do we deploy ourselves?" Adamant says as he follows along. "It would seem that Mistress Varna is a skirmisher, light and fast. Clearly Master Condign is a warrior." A light, musical tone lifts Adamant's bass voice, "I have heard many stories of Master Streko's exploits. And have seen Lord Kal call electricity to his hand. But I'm afraid you remain a mystery Master Belarin." Turning to glance at Tangat, "And we seem to have picked up a mascot."

"For myself," Adamant continues, "I am here primarily to defend. I am your battlement, a fortification to fight behind."

His hand moves up to touch the holy symbol attached his chest and his shoulders shrink in a bit, giving the sense of being somewhat smaller than his natural stance, "I must ask, who has command?" Looking back at Condign, he adds, "In order to function smoothly, I would suggest someone other than myself."

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Feb 18, 2010 8:44:18 GMT -4 Jeff said:

No need for a roll just now, Dave.

But I like to roll... Sorry, it's paranoia from a previous campaign... Our dm loved surprises... I promise to settle down...

Also, an "obvious" threat wouldn't need a roll anyway. It would be...obvious.

Ah the advantage of not being a published author... being able to justify (to myself anyway) my own poor wording. I'll try not to push the advantage too far...

[Brian]

Adamant:

"I must ask, who has command?" Looking back at Condign, he adds, "In order to function smoothly, I would suggest someone other than myself."

Condign coughs discreetly behind one red-tinged hand. "Well, yes, I would prefer if someone other than you were in command. I am skilled in battlefield management, as is my lord Kalarian, and, to a lesser extent, my lord Streko. From what I have seen, my lord Belarin simply waves his hands about, wiggles his eyebrows, speaks in obscure rhymes, and drives our enemies insane." The tiefling looks at the warforged with a reluctant expression. "You and I may as well pair up. If we flank an opponent, we may have some success." Almost as an afterthought, he mutters: "And I can keep an eye on you."

[Joe]

Streko looks at both Adamant and Condign and shakes his head sadly.

"Might I say two things, if you please. First, of us all, I trust no one more than Kalarian should battle become imminent. He has much experience and we who have been with him are alive because of his tactical and strategic prowess. I, for one, shall follow his lead, but will make suggestions as only a halfling can."

Streko winks at Kalarian and grins at his sister. He then turns back to Adamant and Condign both.

"As to the second topic I wish to bring up. Hmmm...how to say this without angering anyone...? I'll just say it and leave it to Olladra to sort out later. Adamant, I thank you for your devout service to my parents, but you will find it difficult, at best, to protect both Varna and myself, as our styles tend to be a bit different. I will not presume to have you ignore me and defend my sister solely, as she might want to kick me from behind at a most inorpportune moment, so I will trust your judgment in that. However, if I request that you give aid to others, that is because I am quite aware that I am as safe as possible. In other words, do not protect me...or my sister...if it means another in our party might fall. That is what family means to us...and Tangat is included in that family, in case you are unsure as to whether he is a mascot or a faithful ally.

"As to you, Condign, I understand that trust is a matter earned, rather than freely given. I, for one, agree wholeheartedly with you in that regard. However, I would ask that you keep any prejudices regarding Adamant to yourself. My parents are not naive, old fools and would not place their trust in anyone, or anything, as you might wish to add, that would harm them, let alone practically beg for that person or thing's assistance in protecting their children. Whether you like it or not, my friend, Adamant is part of our group for now and perhaps for longer than a simple trip within the borders of Sharn. I would ask that you respect that and remember that not all of us were born with just two ears, two eyes, a nose and wicked tongue. Some of us have dragonmarks, some have horns and a tail, others have hides of metal and eyes of glass. And yet, we all see the same things. We all feel. Yes. We ALL feel."

Steko looks around. "Host! I've gone off on a ramble again, haven't I?" He blushes. "I apologize. I didn't mean to sermonize. I seem to be doing that a lot lately. I should go meditate soon."

He begins fidgeting, making sure his handy haversack is secure, all the while keeping his eyes lowered submissively, a sure sign of his embarassment.

[Brian]

Condign listens to Streko's gentle admonition. His stride eases to a walk, then to a slow pace, and eventually he stops altogether. With his left hand, he draws his cloak over the hilt of his sword. His other hand grips the lock of hair more fiercely than anyone had ever seen.

Condign looks to Streko, then abruptly turns to Adamant. The tiefling walks toward the warforged and draws his sword. . .only to kneel and present his blade the construct.

"I have dishonored myself and the one whom I loved. I ask your forgiveness. I am. . .cautious at best, and young. Sometimes I forget myself. While I will not blindly follow anyone" Condign looks at Kalarian "I have dishonored you. Please accept my apology."

[Ken]

Feb 18, 2010 21:30:19 GMT -4 Brian said:

"From what I have seen, my lord Belarin simply waves his hands about, wiggles his eyebrows, speaks in obscure rhymes, and drives our enemies insane."

Belarin purses his lips, nods, and says, "Well, there you have it. Well said. And the funny thing is, I was having that effect even before I met the fey."

He doesn't participate in the rest of the discussion, noting it with mild interest.

______________
Ha! Well done, Brian! :-)

[Darren]

Kal turns from his walk towards the shop, never breaking his stride, though his right leg does begin to bend at an odd angle before straining against the straps that wrap around it. He continues walking backwards towards the shop. "Please, friends, you all have a place in my regiment," he says with a smile, "and I value all of you equally. Do not fight for my favor." His grin is playful.

"As for Tangat, Master Construct," Kal says, his tone turning more serious, "do not mistake him for a pet. He is a fierce warrior and more noble than most people I have met." Kalarian's smile returns as he again reverses direction and turns his body again to walk the final few steps to the door.

In his mind, Kalarian secretly hopes that Varna will not think him too boastful, and he silently berates himself for speaking without thinking.

[Dave W.]

Feb 18, 2010 22:39:10 GMT -4 Brian said:

Condign looks to Streko, then abruptly turns to Adamant. The tiefling walks toward the warforged and draws his sword. . .only to kneel and present his blade the construct.

"I have dishonored myself and the one whom I loved. I ask your forgiveness. I am. . .cautious at best, and young. Sometimes I forget myself. While I will not blindly follow anyone" Condign looks at Kalarian "I have dishonored you. Please accept my apology."

Adamant stands to his full height as Condign approaches. He makes no move to his sword or the shield still slung at his back.

When Condign kneels Adamant almost takes a step back, a reasonable approximation of a humanoid caught by surprise. His head slowly tracks down to the sword. Adamant reaches out with the two fingers of his left hand and briefly touches the blade as if testing it's mettle. He looks directly at Condigan. His eyes shine a pale blue that is nearly white.

"For whatever slight, intended or not, you are fully forgiven. You are wise to be cautious of strangers. Please stand."

"For my part I did not intend to throw sand in the workings. I have not been taught to use words well. They are sometimes a clumsy tool in my hand. I would ask forgiveness for any offense I have offered you."

"I meant what I said earlier, I am your shield. Command me. It will be my honor to follow."

----------------------------
Brilliantly done Brian!

[Dave W.]

Warm tones fill Adamant's voice, "Master Streko, I will promise to defend the entire group as best I can. I may not fully understand what it is to be a family, but I have fought within a unit before. Each member has it's place and the whole is diminished by the loss of any piece.

And I understand how skirmishers must fight, so I would not expect you, Varna," Adamant says to the halfling girl, "to stand by me as the hoplites do.

I also did not mean to insult Tangant, or you Lord Kal.

But I am afraid I am becoming tiresome and distracting. I will try to be less so."

Switching to a more neutral, almost deadpan tone, he nods to Belarin as he passes him to catch up to Kal, "Oh, and I look forward to seeing how you drive people insane, Master Belarin."

[Jeff]

Varna stands back and listens to her brother. When he finishes, she chuckles. "Wow. Olladra has made you a little verbose, hasn't she? When you were little, you were quiet as a mouse." Despite her teasing, she seems impressed by Streko's peacekeeping manner.

When Adamant and Condign exchange their words, she watches them, fascinated, soaking it in.

Finally, she looks up at the warforged. "Feel free to protect me all you want," she says with a grin. "I'm not used to fighting in groups...or at all, really. But I probably won't stay put too much, either."

[Ken]

"I love happiness, but if people start spontaneously hugging each other, I'm going to be very concerned," says Belarin as they resume walking. "But in any event, I'm glad that's resolved. Well, mostly resolved, I suppose."

He walks closer to Varna and says softly, "Say, Varna, when this is over, remind me to ask you for some recommendations. I'm looking for certain merchants, but ah, not the type who would openly display their wares in a place like this."

[Dave W.]

Feb 19, 2010 8:03:44 GMT -4 Jeff said:

Finally, [Varna] looks up at the warforged. "Feel free to protect me all you want," she says with a grin. "I'm not used to fighting in groups...or at all, really. But I probably won't stay put too much, either."

"I will do my best, Mistress Varna." He nods his head once, then tilts it conspiratorial, "I think you are correct to keep moving. Your construction and attire would indicate that you are fast."

He pauses a moment. "If you do find yourself in trouble, please consider running to either Master Condign or myself. We will protect you."

[Jeff]

"I am fast," Varna confirms with a flash of of her teeth. "My 'construction.' I like that." A moment later, she nods at Belarin. "I'm with him. Enough talk. Lets do some asking, then some snooping."

Kal leads the way up to the shop door, Tangat right beside him, practically pushing past. Tangat's nose pressed right to the crack, ready to dart inside like most dogs do whenever doors are opened.

Kal reaches out, turns the knob, and pulls it open—

And sees a spectral figure draped in a long white cloak, standing just beyond the door with its back to him. He immediately feels an elusive, almost ethereal presence...and a strange warming sensation in his dragonmark.

The white figure turns a half second before the old-fashioned bell mounted on the door rings the sound of a new customer...

Kal finds himself looking into violet, almond-shaped eyes and a pale-skinned face framed by long hair paler still. The Deneith heir immediately takes note of the enormous greatsword strapped to the elf's back, and wonders what sort of customer would come so armed. The elf looks young—always relative, when it comes to such long-lived races. His gaunt appearance suggests a deathward mien.

Tangat jumps back, pressed against Kal's leg...then calms, once he sniffs the air.

The rest of you have a similar impression at first: a hint of menace, a vaguely otherworldly presence, then the moment passes, and you realize you're looking at an elf, one hardly dressed like a Khorvairian or Brelish nationalized one.

[Darren]

Kal stops in the doorway, his hand tightening on his sharrash. But then the sense of danger passes, and he calmly walks a few paces into the shop. Not too far, though. He steps sideways, keeping his back to the wall and his eyes on the stranger. "We're looking for the owner of this shop. Have you seen him?"

[Ken]

Belarin has seen plenty of elves in his travels, but rarely one who has seemed more "not human" than the ethereal-looking figure before him -- at least not outside the boundaries of fey councils. He walks to the other side, roughly opposite Kal, smiling politely. Inwardly, he reaches out with his arcane senses.

_________________________
Belarin will spend a minute using the Arcana skill to sense magical activity in the back of the shop. Time permitting, he'll redirect his focus on the elf.

[Mike]

Feb 21, 2010 13:07:52 GMT -4 Darren said:

"We're looking for the owner of this shop. Have you seen him?"

"Gerus? Indeed I have," says the elf. "Fine fellow. He just went in the back, I believe. The shelves are crowded, so mind your way."

The elf briefly touches a gloved finger to a lacquered wooden mask hanging from his belt. The mask depicts the carved visage of a grinning skull. A tiny jewel is mounted in the corner of one of the mask's eyes, like a teardrop.

The elf looks downward, and closes his eyes. He mutters a few words in the Elvish tongue.

"My ancestors, give me strength and give me courage. Once more, I seek to rid this mortal realm of the corrupt dead. With your guidance, I shall not fail."

Opening his eyes, he looks over the group entering Shining Detritus. He says nothing, and heads slowly over to the door.

[Jeff]

Kal finds the shop size to be hard to determine. Tall shelves laden with curiosities, trinkets, and antiques crowd the space.

"Hello, who's there?" a gruff voice calls out from somewhere out of sight. "More customers?" The voice sounds incredulous, but friendly.

Entering, Belarin begins to study the scene with senses trained in the arcane.

The elf moves over to the door, taking in the equally unusual sight of not only the two humans, both finely dressed, but also a pair of halflings—one armored in dark leather, the other in fine mail and priest vestments—a tall warforged, and....a heavily armored, red-skinned humanoid with large horns and a long tail. He's seen very few in Sharn so far: tieflings, descended from devil-bargaining humans long before humans ever came to Khorvaire. Not an everyday sight, but clearly a companion of the others.

The female halfling in the black leather looks the white-cloaked elf up and down and offers him a friendly, almost knowing smile of greeting. "Find anything interesting?" she asks, pointing at the shelves behind him.

_________________________________

Guys, I know I usually ask this whenever a new character joins in, but I think it helps: If you could, in your next post, give a short of description of your character so it helps refresh our mental images.

Elf's History check: 1d20+2=15

[Dave W.]

Feb 21, 2010 11:33:41 GMT -4 Jeff said:

The rest of you have a similar impression at first: a hint of menace, a vaguely otherworldly presence, then the moment passes, and you realize you're looking at an elf, one hardly dressed like a Khorvairian or Brelish nationalized one.

When Adamant senses the hint of menace, he loosens his stance, relaxing his joints, letting his three-fingered hand fall to the sides. He sinks into his hips and bends his knees just a degree. This makes his heavy 6'5" frame appear somewhat less imposing.

When the otherworldly presence is felt, his hand twitches, barely noticeably, as he resists the urge to touch the Octogram affixed to his left chest.

As Kal and the stranger exchange words, Adamant glances around, trying not to focus on the elf, to see around and behind him. When the elf speaks unintelligibly and touches the mask, Adamant will take a better look at him.
--------------------------
See I didn't roll...

I'm assuming Adamant doesn't recognize the dress of the elf, but maybe, if the mask is a religious symbol?

When it comes to his turn he will step into the shop.

Hi Mike!

[Dave W.]

Feb 21, 2010 23:11:45 GMT -4 Jeff said:

Guys, I know I usually ask this whenever a new character joins in, but I think it helps: If you could, in your next post, give a short of description of your character so it helps refresh our mental images.

Apparently we simul-posted.

As the warforged steps into the shop, the elf would notice the tall metal-and-wood construct is well-worn, used to heavy work or travel.

Heavy metal plates cover vital parts of his structure. At his left side is strapped a finely-crafted longsword; to the right a pair of light hammers. Slung on his back is a heavy shield. A warrior, perhaps a bodygaurd, then?

A better look would detect that engraved on the center of his chest is a symbol consisting of a crown, hammer, and bellows. On his left chest is an eight-pointed symbol made of silver and gold. Other than possibly the sword, this symbol is the only thing of obvious worth on his person.

The glowing aquamarine gems that serve as his eyes have a quiet but solid presence to them.

[Darren]

Kalarian looks to the side as Varna enters, his cheek brushing against the high collar of his long black coat. Unconsciously, he takes a protective step towards the Halfling, placing himself slightly between her and the elf. His grip tightens on the strange weapon in his hand, a long battle scythe that anyone who had been on the Talenta Plains would recognize as a Halfling sharrash, but this one has been sized for human use. Kal's face remains calm, but his green eyes move quickly around the room. In all other respects, the man appears relaxed.

"Gerus?" Kalarian calls. "My name is Kalarian d'Deneith and we are here to see you. We were sent by Orval and Esthryn. They said you might need our help." At this last, Kal's eyes quickly move to the elf, then back again.

[Jeff]

The specific mask that the elf touched reveals nothing to Adamant. However, to all of you, the skull-like visage and the elf's unusual attire does suggest a strong affiliation with Aerenal, the homeland continent where all elves can tie their ancestry.

What is commonly known about Aerenal is that most of its people do not subscribe to belief in, or at least not allegiance, the traditional gods of Eberron: neither the Sovereign Host nor the latter day faiths (like the Silver Flame).

Rather, Aerenal's elves worship and revere their ancestors: the dead and the "undying." They do not fear death in the normal sense, which they see as one more step on a spiritual journey. Actual death allows a spirit to remain in the world as a guide to the living, or to pass into death and rebirth. For numerous elves in Aerenal, death of the body is not the end of physical existence.

This religion is collectively known as the Undying Court. If the legends are true, they even raise some of these revered ancestors from the dead to dwell among the living as the undying, where they provide counsel and even help protect their lands.

But that is all you really know about it, even those like Streko who have studied the basics of other faiths.

In turn, the elf easily recognizes the Octogram on the warforged's chest, symbol of the Sovereign Host—a curious thing, to be sure. It's well known that most warforged pay little heed to talk of gods and souls, choosing a more grounded existence; agnostic at best.

What also stands out to him is the unusual amulet that the male halfling wears openly around his neck: Polished black obsidian with an arrangement of pure white dots. He seems to remember that it is some sort of tile-shaped game piece to an ancient mode of recreation. Moreover, the elf remembers that such symbols may refer to Olladra, the Sovereign goddess of fortune.

"Gerus?" Kalarian calls. "My name is Kalarian d'Deneith and we are here to see you. We were sent by Orval and Esthryn. They said you might need our help."

"Oh, who'd have thought it?" comes the voice, growing louder as if the speaker is emerging from a back room. "Come forward, boy! What timing you have. Must be my lucky day."

_____________________________

Religion checks: Adamant(1d20+6=26), Belarin (1d20+9=22), Condign (1d20+6=15), Kal (1d20+3=19), Streko (1d20+8=24)

Religion (1d20+9=28)

Wow, good rolls all around.