Chapter 2: Rites of Passage

[Jeff]

Chapter 2
Rites of Passage

Wir, the 4th of Rhaan 998 YK - 12th bell

The constant hum and occassional crackle of the lightning rail's power softens. Your coach jostles ever so slightly, and the boarding platform and rail station slide into view. Taymra, still a little sleepy-eyed, smiles big. "Let's go!" She stands up, grabs her gear, and pulls open the door.

Tangat dashes past her first, nosing his way through the door, eager to get outside.

You shuffle individually or as a group, along with everyone else aboard the coach, out of your stateroom doors and toward the boarding ramps. When you step out, you find your eyes soaring up to a high, vaulted ceiling vaguely reminiscent of a grand chapel. Clear skylights and multi-colored stained glass windows break up the sculpted stone. Even the myriad of columns that support the high roof are decorated, as shuttered everbright lanterns hang from each. Unicorn motifs dominate them all. The massive hall is very bright.

A network of platforms and collapsable bridges span the crisscrossing lines of conductor stones. A quick glance tells you that this station could accomodate ten or more lightning rails coming and going at once and still have room for maintenance and repair.

This lightning rail station is well known as the largest in the world, and without a doubt demonstrates the majesty of House Orien. From where you stand on the platform, the bridges and walkways give way through a series of arches and steps down into a wide concourse. It is obvious to you that Passage is House Orien's seat of power and this station its central facility. You can't see the full dimensions of this multistoried compound, but you know without a doubt that it's got to be the largest in the city.

Everywhere you look Orien workers bustle about. At even intervals, guards in Orien or Deneith livery stand post.

Lightning rail passengers and travelers are absolutely everwhere, forming a hubbub of voices (which rise up and echo slightly in the vault above) and a profusion of smells. If this room was tightly packed, it might be a bit too intense for Grafth. But as it is, the station is well ventilated and the space mostly empty. He even detects trace amounts of perfume in the air—some quite unnecessary, others actually pleasant. Most of the people seem to be Aundairian or Brelish, with a smattering of other cultures.

Among them:

• A group of Aerenal elves standing in a tight-knit cluster on one side, just outside a first class coach in their outlandish, well-tailored clothing. One of them is armored in exotic "scales" of wood and stiffened leaves. His face is painted to resemble a skull, and his eyes shift left and right as if expecting an attack at any time. His hands rest on the hilts of twin longblades. It vaguely reminds you of Cutter and his exotic knives.

• A warforged wearing a wide-brimmed hat and a longcoat pushes past the group politely. "Folks," is all he says in a deep voice.

• You see a small halfling child, riding an enormous mastiff whose leash is carried in turn by a half-orc in piecemeal armor.

• An actual full-blooded orc wearing someone's approximation of human city attire stands beside a warrior woman in a fine suit of lavender-dyed leather armor (which Kal thinks might just be Deneith issue).

• A shifter couple walk hand in hand off the same rail you arrived on, dressed in patched formalwear. The male looks worried. The female looks cautious.

• A well-dressed dwarf, with a long grey beard and a staff whose top is capped with a metal lion-like head, is wandering to and fro, looking for his correct rail caravan. He mutters angrily to himself.

The only place Streko has seen more diversity is Sharn itself.

As your group reconvenes on the platform (with Pellorien somewhere else in the crowds, presumably disguised), Tangat reappears beside Kal. He has a pastry in his mouth that Kal didn't give him.

Taymra grins like a child here, like she's returning home. "This station is big. Very big. It's easy to get separated here, so don't go wandering off just yet. I can take you anywhere when we're all ready, though—restaurants, locker rooms if you want to store anything here, washrooms, recreation areas, warehouses, vendors...wherever. Even the Sivis message station is housed within this enclave."

Dhaz has kept an eye on the passengers that have left the rail you were on, just in case. He turns to Taymra. "Taverns sounds good. For...lunch."

[Josh]

"Wherever we choose to meet is fine with me. We shouldn't go to far before we conceal the book, however... we don't want to give anyone a chance to guess our next move. I suggest we remain in the station until the box is procured. If there is a vendor near the street entrance, that might be perfect."

As soon as their meeting place and time is decided, Grafth will look for the nearest kiosk for information and head toward it.

[Darren]

Kalarian seems annoyed. Locating the nearest empty bench, he heads over to it and sits heavily, stretching out in such a way and having a look on his face that would make most people think twice about trying to share the space with him.

[Joe]

Taymra grins like a child here, like she's returning home. "This station is big. Very big. It's easy to get separated here, so don't go wandering off just yet. I can take you anywhere when we're all ready, though—restaurants, locker rooms if you want to store anything here, washrooms, recreation areas, warehouses, vendors...wherever. Even the Sivis message station is housed within this enclave.

Streko looks up into the sky, in complete awe. "How would you have felt, stepping off the lightning rail, into this maelstorm of activity and wonder?" he asks out loud. "Sister, what has become of you?"

Streko glances down at the only other living being nearby close to his own eye level. Tangat's face almost appears to be smiling.

"Good boy!" Streko tells him in halfling, patting his side.

[Jeremy]

Goran looks around for a while, like the others, taking in the sights and smells of yet another city. Still not sure how he feels about them, he notes the difference between Passage and Fairhaven. First of all, Fairhaven was neither fair nor a haven for them, whereas Passage may at least offer some anonymity, for now. But there is an air of tension here he doesn't yet understand.

"C'mon, let's move. We should try to stay active as much as possible. I suggest we find a restaurant and hole up there until you two are ready to meet up with us. Tamyra, some place that a bounty hunter, for instance, would NOT go, were he seeking rumors of newcomers to the town. Where would that be? Somewhere that would also have good escape routes..."

He looks around to the others.

"Unless anyone has another suggestion, let's be moving along."

[Jeff]

"...I suggest we find a restaurant and hole up there until you two are ready to meet up with us. Tamyra, some place that a bounty hunter, for instance, would NOT go, were he seeking rumors of newcomers to the town.

To Goran, Taymra says, "Actually, a restaurant or tavern would be precisely the type of place someone tailing us could settle in and learn more about us or our movements."

Seeing Gafth's eyes searching around, she says, "The noticeboards are all in the concourse. It's the nexus of this place." She glances around to see that none are eavesdropping. "Also probably the best place for Pellorien to find us again, anyway. Let's go there."

Taymra leads you beyond the network of boarding platforms, down a very wide and ornate stairway, and into the central concourse—another lofty hall, circular in shape, with white arches and steps leading out into all other areas of the complex.

At the center is a low-walled fountain, where people have tossed in copper coins. An Orien guard stands near, preventing anyone from retrieving any of the coins others have thrown in. In the middle of the wide fountain is a pedestal with a large white unicorn statue rearing into the air. The animal is at least three times the size of a real horse, its spiraling horn gleaming below the skylight.

At one side of the concourse is a row of message kiosks with a countless number of papers tacked to it.

[Darren]

Seeming bored and frustrated, Kalarian wanders over near the message kiosks and begins perusing them, hoping for something that will hold his interest.

__________
Not sure if there's a relevant game mechanic here. Just looking for anything interesting.

[Jeremy]

"Of course, my lady." Says Goran. "I had thought as much, but wondered if perhaps you might know some inn or board that had the protection of your house, and anonymity too. It is no matter. Let us be on our ways, and meet again as soon as may be."

Goran stares off into the city, muttering to no one in particular.

"I being to wonder if there is any profit by our remaining together. We're running in circles, and learning nothing more than what annoys us about each other...or how best to slay a warforged."

[Jeff]

Kal and Grafth scan the board postings. There are a multitude of notes on here—messages between friends, times and locations for rendezvous, unsolicited advice, religious statements, anti-religious statements, calls for mercenary work, pleas for help, and so much more.

Taymra addresses you. "We can make this our meeting place, if you like. I can seek out an Orien wizard and the means to shield the...thing. But I need to know where to find you."

At Goran's words, she nods. "There may be a place I can bring you that will offer temporary anonymity within this enclave, but it's probably best if I acquire the lead shielding first."

At his last words, Taymra sighs. "Unless I shouldn't bother."

[Josh]

Grafth looks to Goran, slightly annoyed. "You, out of all of us, should know that the sooner we shield this book, the better. This place," he motions with his arm, sweeping over the rail station, "is perfect for a moment's pause. Lots of people, well guarded, very little chance of a public attack. Taymra said she will be swift, and I will be mere moments.

"Just remain calm for a few more minutes- and don't split up. Our strength is in our numbers; none of us would be alive right now if it weren't for each other."

Grafth hefts his pack and scroll case, and shrugs. "I'll be back to this spot in a few minutes. Hopefully you'll all be around." He heads off in the direction of the storage lockers, or in the direction he assumes they are, if he doesn't directly know.

[Jeff]

Taymra points Grafth toward one of the stairs and arches that lead off from the room. The shifter heads off.

As Goran is scanning the message kiosks, a man approaches the board. He is solidly built, dressed in clean traveling clothes of green and brown, with a mace hanging from his belt and a shortbow affixed to his backpack. His shoulder-length hair is blond, almost white, with cool blue eyes.

After scanning the notes himself, he glances at Goran. "I don't suppose you've seen any postings for a tracker's work?"

Tangat looks toward the man with interest and a wag of the tail. Then his head turns suddenly and he barks in a different direction—not with alarm, merely with interest. Across the concourse, a man wearing a gray uniform is making his way up the steps toward the boarding platforms. On a leash is another wolfdog, just like Tangat.

Kal notices that the traveler's weapons sure look a lot like Pellorien's.
____________________________

Spot check = Goran (7), Kal (20), Streko (17).

[Joe]

Streko, who is also parusing the boards, hoping for, perhaps, a clue concerning his sister, hears Tangat's "woof" and peers over to see what has grabbed the wolfdog's attention.

Aside from seeing another wolfdog, Streko notices nothing out of the ordinary and returns to the boards.
______________________________________________

If Streko sees or has seen anything for Tracker's Work, he will point this out to them man, otherwise, he will continue to search the notices.

[Jeff]

With the group temporarily "encamped" over the by the message kiosks, Tayma points toward one of the exit arches. "All right, I'm going to go seek out a house mage. I'll be as fast as I can. If they can't expedite my request, I'll at least put in the request and return here again so I don't leave you hanging. Please stay put. Should any emergencies arise, and we get separated, you can always find me again by asking for me by name in the administrative offices. They can track me down."

She starts away, then half-turns. "Be watchful, all right?"

With that, Taymra heads off.

Dhaz peels a note off the kiosk, folds it up, and slips it in a pocket.

[Josh]

Grafth approaches the group as Taymra makes her way out of the concourse. He snacks on one of the pastries that Streko handed him earlier. "I've completed my task... and I may very well have uncovered our next move.

"We must discuss the results of my errand when Taymra returns, but while we wait, let me ask you..." the shifter's voice becomes low, so that only his party might hear, "how familiar are you with the Silver Flame?"

[Joe]

"I have met a few zealots in my travels. I know of their hatred of were-beasts and their infamous purge of them throughout the five kingdoms. I have heard of a few shifters actually working with the Flame. There was one, many years back...I believe his name was Silverclaw something-or-other...didn't he hunt down a pack of werewolves for the Silver Flame? BAH! There I go rambling again...I apologize, friend Grafth."

He grabs two Aundarian pastries from his backpack without looking and hands one to Grafth, taking the other morsel for himself.

"To answer your question, I have more than just a passing familiarity with them, but the...obsessiveness...I have encountered amongst the ones I have met were a bit off-putting. Then again, some have said my obsessiveness can be off-putting on occasion. Such are the times we live in, I fear. Why, may I inquire, do you ask?"

[Darren]

Kal looks over at the man who inquired about work. "I may have use of a tracker. How good are you?"

[Jeremy]

"I know naught of the Silver Flame. Is it something, or someone, that might help us?"

[Josh]

Listening to Streko's words, the shifter nods. "Yes, I myself have never been the target of any ill will from the Flame, but I know those who have..."

He looks to the others listening, "There are two items of note regarding the Silver Flame that I must impart upon you. One is that, as some of you may recall, it was a member of the Order who saved our lives during the rail attack. He gave his life to shield the rest of the passengers. It's possible that I now have that man's identity.

"The other is that before I arrived in Fairhaven, I took a courier job from a member of the Order... and I have just received another one.

"Both are tied to the issue at hand, and the latter may give us some vital in formation. I will show you all more when we are all together again, and when we can be more discreet."


The Shifter lightly pats the side of his pack, a slight grin showing the edge of a canine. "Oh, and lunch will be on me."

[Joe]

Streko arches an eyebrow. "I was not aware that the Silver Flame was involved in the rail incident. This is another extraordinary circumstance in a string of them. Allow me to think this through with you, my friends...

"So far, and please, correct me if I'm wrong, but from what you all have said, you were strangers taking a rail to Passage from Fairhaven. You witnessed a murder before stepping on the rail. Then, there was a gnome, who seemed to do something to a warforged, which various Deneith guards either ignored or perhaps were participating in. There was an explosion, in which we now learn a member of the Silver Flame perhaps helped to deflect to some small extent.

"While recovering from the 'accident,' you were approached by strange men who came in the guise of friends, but immediately attacked. You were able to stop the attack, but before information could be retrieved, Orien guards approached. You fled as a group to a nearby farm, left immediately and while returning to Fairhaven, were attacked by a scourge of undead, which may have been sent against you by The Order of the Emerald Claw.

"You survived the journey to Fairhaven mostly intact, however the gnome you saved died at the hands of the undead. You took his book, however, and once you arrived in Fairhaven, attempted to find answers by following separate clues.

"At the Deneith enclave, you ran into me and I agreed to follow your quest in finding answers, realizing that my sister may have been one of the survivors. However, you also described a survivor who is not only a man I saved from a mugging and who helped me locate my sister after a 13 year search, but who might also be the most powerful member of a crime syndicate based out of Fairhaven and who MIGHT have something to do with the rail accident as well. However, we couldn't explore that issue for long, because, while meeting with the Deneith contact, we were attacked, an attack with resulted in the disappearance of one of your members.

"We then fled to the house of the dead gnome's family, I believe, which was being thoroughly explored by House Orien. While there, we were attacked, again, by a rogue and a warforged. We survived (although the same cannot be said for the warforged)and fled, along with our new Orien contact, to a tavern, where we discovered that we were being tracked by magical means and where the same bard you saw at the train station in Fairhaven before the accident was performing.

"It was decided that we would escape the tavern, but, alas, we were once again confounded when we came upon a struggle. Again, warforged attacked us, nearly sending me to Dolhurr once and for ever. The next bit is understandably fuzzy, but somehow, we made it to the rail station once again and somehow managed to get to Passage. We still have the book, but another member of our group has left, this time voluntarily.

"And, here we are, in Passage. We have a book we still know nothing about. We have sewn distrust with House Deneith, find that House Orien is deep in its investigation of the rail accident, learn that The Silver Flame is possibly involved and that The Emerald Claw is definitely involved, and finally that a Crime Syndicate led by a red-haired human, Malov, has been tracking us magically through the dead gnome's book.

"We still have no answers, but a myriad of questions that the entire Host couldn't possibly answer and that the Dark Six no doubt can't stop giggling about due to the amount of subterfuge and misery we have been wading through over this.

"Does that about cover everything to this point?"

He takes a BIG BITE of his Aundairan pastry, shaking off the impending headache that his story has engendered and savors the lovely flavors that the pastry leaves on his tongue. "It's early, but a mug of hot mead sounds delicious right about now..." Streko mutters under his breath.

He inhales deeply and smiles. "My friend Grafth, I look forward to your tale...as long as we keep moving towards our goal of discovering who is attacking us, who wants the book and why, and finding my sister, along with her allusive friend, Malov, I am all for assisting you in your endeavors."
_____________________________________________

I had this urge to start off with..."Let me sum up..." but I can't get Mandy Patinkin's voice down quite that well...and a Halfling attempting to say that just sounds daffy... ;D

[Jeff]

Heh. Just to be clear, the book never had anything to do with the gnome. In describing events to Streko, because the gnome Fenwolt attempted to help Pellorien understand its contents, somewhere along the way the book and the gnome were connected. But they're not. Just so you know.

[Josh]

"That covers it for the majority of us, save that the "murder" at the rail platform was only an attempted murder- Gurend lived until the crash. That, and Dhaz was only with us until the accident." The shifter eyes the other. "I assumed, perhaps wrongly, that we all had some specific reason to come to Passage. Mine was work, but what about the rest of you?"

Grafth searches around, attempting to get a scent for Pellorien, and is keeping an eye out for a certain young lady he might recognize from the lockers.

[Lara]

darren said:

Kal looks over at the man who inquired about work. "I may have use of a tracker. How good are you?"

"Better than you might think," the stranger replies. "Arcane artifacts are my specialty. Xen'drik -- now there's a place for adventurer."

The man looks over the message board a moment, then reaches in front of Kalarian to pull one off.

So doing, he whispers, "I'm going to wander off to another part of the station. Shall I meet you lot back here when Taymra returns?"

With a wink at Kalarian, he starts to walk away.

[Darren]

Startled for a moment, Kalarian stutters a bit as he says, "Yes...yes, do just that."

Walking back to his companions, Kalarian jerks a thumb over his shoulder at the retreating tracker. "That guy knows something. He knows we're waiting for Taymra, and he said he'd meet us back here when she returns. Either Taymra is looking out for us, or we're being set up. Let's be sure to ask Taymra about it when she returns." Seeing the pastries in Streko's hand, Kalarian says, "Oh, thank you," as he takes one and begins to chew on it. With his mouth still half full, he says, "What did you find, Grafth?"

[Jeff]

Grafth detects Pellorien's scent faintly in the air, then it is gone.

Dhaz walks up to the shifter. He seems a bit distracted, more by some thought than by alcohol. "Yeah, business..."

At Streko's recounting, he shakes his head, baring his teeth for one moment as though an angry thought crossed his mind. "Listen, folks...I'd. I'd...like to help you out, if I can. Find who we need to find, or fight from whoever we need to fight. There...there is some place I need to go in this town at some point, but...there's no hurry."

He turns his back and pretends to look at the message kiosk again. Goran and Grafth hear Dhaz mutter softly under his breath, "Been years...what's a few more days?"

__________________________

Listen check = Goran (20), Grafth (26), Kal (15), Streko (12).

[Jeremy]

Goran shakes his head at the furtive mumbles of Dhaz.

"I did not choose Fairhaven particularly, it's just one stop. I have an account to settle with a murderer, or murderers, some little of which was aroused when we were attacked by the Emerald Claw. But it is far from settled yet.

"But my errand can wait, indefinitely."

Perhaps it is clearer now to the others why Goran wears a calm air of death around him; that is his business now.

[Lara]

The stranger wanders through the station, keeping an eye out for anyone following him. He pauses for a moment to read the notice he removed at random from the message board and then continues his exploration of the station and observation of the people around him.

[Jeff]

The strange examines the random piece of paper he'd taken from the wall: Dwarf male seeking companionship during a time of bereavement; elves and half-elves need not apply. Followed by an address somewhere in the residential district of the city.

The concourse bustles with continual activity. The stranger searches the sea of faces for anything amiss, but discerns no suspsicious eyes.

Just then, a trio of gnomes steps out from the crowd—drawing the stranger's immediate attention—and approaches the group. The gnome in the lead, a youngish female with bright eyes and even brighter clothing (lavender and red), carries a book in her hand and pops it open when she gets near. The two male gnomes behind her look like servants. The only weapons they carry are daggers on their belts in plain view—normal, for citizens who can afford weapons.

"Excuse me, sirs," the gnome says with a smile, flicking her eyes mostly between Kal and Grafth but facing the entire group. "Fherina Heartsvale, with the Chronicle*. Would you mind if I ask you a few questions about your experience aboard the lightning rail today?"

____________________________________

*The Korranberg Chronicle is the most well known and widely read chronicle due in large part to its relentless and largely unbiased coverage of the Last War and its distribution arrangements with House Orien. It comes out three days each week: Mol, Wir, and Far. The Chronicle's slogan is: "If it happens in the Five Nations, you'll read about it in the Korranberg Chronicle."

[Josh]

Grafth, opening his mouth to reply to Kal, quickly closes it as the reporter approaches them.

To the gnome, he nods in greeting, but doesn't speak.

[Joe]

Streko, too, feels a bit uncomfortable. "We're trying to remain innocuous," he mumbles. "The last thing we need is to be interviewed by a reporter...and noticed..."

He turns his full attention to the board, scanning the notices for anything of interest....anything at all...

Streko will allow those with a much higher level of charisma and media savvy to handle this. Someone like Kal... ;D

[Lara]

The stranger grimaces at the announcement from the message board and looks around for a place to dispose of the piece of paper. So doing, he checks the crowd for the Aerenal elves who had caught his attention earlier.