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Sharn. City of Towers. The greatest metropolis and most populous city in all of Khorvaire. Mighty towers reach for the skies and winds and freedom. Sharn is the home of wealthiest and most fashionable traders, nobles and scholars. Not so in the Cogs. The great forges and foundries form the industrial base of the city and there are many who work there - but few who live there by choice. Those who do are mostly fugitives from either law or people on the other side of the law.
Deep chasms yawn stretching all the way to the lakes of fire and molten lave beneath the city and oppressing heat fights against the stench of many tanneries, slaughterhouses, alchemical workshops and other unpleasant trades to make the air almost unbreathable.
To most people the most unpleasant part of the Cogs is Khyber's Gate. This city beneath the city is basically carved into walls that make the Cogs. It is still a maze of passages and tunnels, although the heat is more bearable and less intense than in the industrial district. The wast majority of inhabitants are goblin-kind, but there are many desperate beings of all races who seek to loose themselves in the Gate's warrens.
The largest and most successful tavern in the district is called Shamukaar. It caters to Droaam immigrants, among them minotaurs, gnolls, ogres and harpies. The goblin cooks prepare wide variety of foods for different tastes, but it's mostly disgusting for humans.
Somehow, you have found yourselves in the Shamukaar, sitting at a table with bunch of strangers. The press of patrons around you is almost unbearable and din of many voices, some of them not even remotely humanoid, makes it difficult to hear one another. For now, you are limited to simply watching those who share your table...
Glaive makes himself as non-descript as possible under his shawl and head coverings. The stench of close pressed mammals and reptiles and other, similarly biological creatures almost overloads his olfactory sensors.
He stays close to Tarragon and Tomp, not relishing becoming separated from his band. He cannot for the life of him begin to ty to determine a tactical positioning in this place, replete with a thousand doorways, points of enfilade, hanging beams, girders, clotheslines etc.
The tavern is close and humid. More exotic smells pervade. Glaive keeps a wary eye on proceedings.
The three of them made their way into the city, its long and winding streets took them across the urban landscape. After what seemed like an hour they arrived at the tavern.
Tarragon puts her hand on Glaive's shoulder. "Easy now, we're just looking for work. Come, let us sit down and see what the locals offer."
Stepping through the doors a few feet, Tarragon stops and scans the room. Seeing nothing worthy of scrutiny she makes her way to the only table with room and sits down.
Looking up at Tomp and Glaive she waits till they have done a cursory look of the place. Then she nods to the table, as an indication to sit.
"Always the soldiers. They won't be satisfied till they have mapped this place out, but at least they know where the exits are." she thinks.
Glaive nods, relieved by Tarragon's direction and makes himself as cmfortable as he can, fiddling with his gear and innumerable straps, ties and clasps of assorted pouches, bags and containers.
Assured all is in order, he watches the throng with a critical, soldier's eye.
"How do they know what to do?" Glaive asks cryptically under his breath to no-one in particular.
"Habit. They have been doing it for so long that it is almost second nature." she responds quietly to Glaive.
There is a sudden hush and bustle as the door is forcefully pushed open. Codrus' cheeks burned as he felt everyone's eyes on him.
Codrus stepped into the common room. Now was it the left or right side... Oh, right! Spotting the living constructs, he made his way to the table with a surprising amount of quiet, stopping only to pick out the sturdiest chair available.
Glaive notes the newcomer with veiled interest, impressed by the raw power represented by the minotaur's frame and obvious musculature.
By way of greeting he gives Codrus "the nod", the almost imperceptible angling forward of the head, then returns to his attitude of inscrutability. Sometimes being possessed of absolutely no facial muscles was a distinct advantage.
Now what did the dock worker call the tavern in the Cogs ..., Zakmakiv thinks to herself as she makes her way from the docks into the Cogs, with her hands resting on the hilts of two daggers at her side ready to draw if anyone tries to assault her.
Ah, it is the Shamukaar!, as she approaches a goblin carrying a load of goods, "Is this the direction to the Shamukaar tavern?".
The goblin turns slightly and points his arm down another passage, "Down that passage, take 3rd passage to the right, and 2nd on to the left and you should see the tavern."
Zakmakiv gives a nod, "Thanx", before proceeding on her way.
After a little while, she finally sees the sign of the tavern. As she steps through the door way, she thinks to herself, hope to be able to find a job that I can do...
As per her training, she observes the tavern area, looking for all possible exits, including windows, in case the situation arises requiring fast exit. Then she looks at all the patrons to avoid approaching trouble makers be mistake. Once satisfied with her observations, she heads off towards the noticeboard to see for any jobs are available. All the time keeping her hands on her daggers' hilts.
Once finished scanning the noticeboard, she looks about for space at a table sit and order some meaty dish. She spots a small space at the end of a table with contains minotaur and a few warforge. Upon sitting she waves for food to be brought to her, along with a mug of mead.
Glaive again notes the newcomer, this one could not be more different than the first, though they also share similarities of purpose. Weapons. Armor. The look of action and readiness. He nods a curt greeting. Introductions are not his forte - it is enough to prove non-threatening and gauge the newcomers' response.
Tomp follows Glaive and Tarragon, before sitting he checks the chair
Don't want to mess another chair with my weight
He looks at the two new companions on the table, he is surprised by the variety of species in the tavern,
"Kik- I always liked goblins, they are fun and small" he says as he looks around for possible threats
Alastor enters the place and takes a quick look around. Not many chairs available, and none of them near anyone human-looking.
"Eh... To hell with it. Didn't get in here looking for boring company anyway..."
The man sits on an wooden chair next to a group of colorful specimen, including 3 warforged, a lizard folk and a minotaur.
"Hail, travelers. Mind if I join you?" he says with a friendly smile.
Glaive warms to his amazing ability to nod his head in greeting. Seeing as the human hads addressed the group Glaive attempts a smile and a welcome. Being unable to create a smile with his plate-like chin and mouthslit he hopes his eyes carry the emotion.
"Well met. By all means."
Codrus clears his throat, hoping he didn't have to spend too long in the city. "Have a seat. I think the ham is still fit for Humans to eat!
"Sure sure, take a seat... good food to be eaten...", as Zakmakiv pulls out a dagger from her side in anticipation of the meal being placed on the table by the barmaid. She still keeps her other hand at her side on a dagger hilt. When barmaid leaves the table, she immediately stabs one of the pieces of meat with her rather sharp dagger, and places the piece of meat into her mouth pulling the dagger from between her sharp canine teeth. While still holding her dagger she lifts the mug of mead to take a swig, before letting out a burp as she puts down the mug to get another piece of meat.
"This table is sure going to get attention" looking around the table with curious eyes to see all the variety of members,
"What brings you here, travelers, if is ok to ask" he says and grabs the hilt of his sword reacting to the lizardfolk drawing his dagger and then relaxing his metalic and heavy body as the lizardfolk just use it to eat,
"We should be careful, last bar fight we had was expensive on repairs" he whispers to Glaive.
Before taking another swig, she replies, "Oh, me? Well just looking for suitable job to do..."
"You can use my shield to sit higher..." he says with his serious voice meaning no offense
Tarragon watches the newcomers with interest. Especially the lizard one. Her memories burn brightly, but not enough as to spur her to any action.
"This one seems to be nice enough. We shall see."
She looks up at the warforge offering her his shield to sit on. She pauses for a moment, looking at shield then at the warforge studying him, then smiles with a few canines still showing.
"Thank you for the offer", getting off the seat so the shield can be places then quickly climbs back onto the seat and shield, "You can call me Zak."
She takes another bite of meat enjoying the additional height she had gain to eat her meal and to take the mug easier to drink from.
Glaive tries not to watch the small lizardfolk eat. He always find it strangely compelling. The mastication, swallowing - the accompaniment of eyes and nostrils to the (he supposes) taste of the food.
His strange reveries is interrupted by the business of war. He nods to Tomp, and stays ready.
Stops eating immediately at the sudden noise near the entrance of the common room, and looks towards the entrance, keeping her hand firmly on her dagger in hand and other hand firmly on the hilt of the dagger at her side.
She mutters in draconic, "Now what! Can't a person just have a meal in peace."
Tomp is to busy watching the small lizardfolk eat.
"Uhm? What's happening over there?" says as he gets up and puts his hand on the hilt of his sword.
Codrus looks up. That does not sound good.
"Then someone should bring some good into it." Alastor stands up and moves towards the door. "Gentlemen."
"You there!" says Alastor to the goblin "Calm yourself and tell me what happened!"
Codrus watches the man go, then gives the others a small smile and gets up to follow.
"Huh? What's happening?" ask curiously as the minotaur and the man leave the table.
Zakmakiv seeing the human and minotaur stand up to walk out, "Some dead body nearby outside...", she quickly stuffs her mouth with the remaining piece of her meal, before climbing onto the table to stand to get a better view of the doorway, while holding her mug in her hand so to take a swig once she finished chewing and swallows. Speaking rather softly in draconic, "I sure did not do it..."
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"Then someone should bring some good into it." Alastor stands up and moves towards the door. "Gentlemen."
"You there!" says Alastor to the goblin "Calm yourself and tell me what happened!"
Goblin looks at Alastor and slowly spits on the side. "Just another dead human. Not enough of those in these parts, if you ask me."
"Is that so?" says Alastor, visibly suspicious of the goblin's attitude. "Then why are you creating such a ruckus? What do you know of this body?"
Glaive sits still, maintaining his position. He watches the man, reptilian and minotaur depart to interview the Goblin. He cannot quite hear their conversation, but he can tell by the goblin's body language it is hiding sometime.
"A dead body is exceptional?" he asks his wartime allies.
"Don't insult those who come to your aid, little one." Codrus growled, "He was the first to come to your cries, and now you change your story? Perhaps you believe I would be more receptive to your tale?"
After seeing the goblin cry out about a dead body, her interest is piqued.
"Not usually." she replies to Glaive. "Unless there is something unique about this particular cadaver. I shall investigate further."
She does not seem like she is suspicious, only curious at this point.
She stands and makes her way outside to where the others have gone.
Zakmakiv gulps down the last of the mead, and places the mug onto the table at her feet, then places her dagger back at her side, but keeping her hands on two of the dagger's hilts, as she walks to the end of the table. Trying to get a better view of what is happening at the tavern's door way.
Glaive gives a nod of understanding to Tarragon, then angles his head after Tarragon to Tomp. He then stands and follows Tarragon at a safe operational distance. He does his best to remain nondescript and inconspicuous.
Tomp remains at the table looking at Glaive and Tarragon for any suspicious movements around them, he shifts his feet in a way he can start running to their side if there are any problems.
"My name is Tomp, if there is any trouble I suggest you be on our side" Tomp says at the small lizardfolk.
"Tomp, I really hope no trouble", replying to Tomp as she still watches from a top the table.
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[dice=Perception]1d20+6
[dice=Sense Motive]1d20+2"Don't insult those who come to your aid, little one." Codrus growled, [dice=Intimidate]1d20+2 "He was the first to come to your cries, and now you change your story? Perhaps you believe I would be more receptive to your tale?"
Confronted by the powerful minotaur, the little goblin turns the paler shade of green and backs off slightly. "All right! All right! No, there really is a body - but I haven't found it. A human approached me and paid me to come here and start rumors about it. He showed me where it is! I can take you if you don't believe me!"
"What was this human like? And this time, be truthful... And polite!" says Alastor with a serious tone.
Glaive is impressed by the human's command to the goblin to be polite.
He seems like an impressive biological. The minotaur is well scary too.
He continues to try to "blend in", finding something extremely interesting to look at just past and to the side of the conversation...
"Then take us there little one, and be quick. Dead bodies draw attention." she says to the goblin.
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For a moment, old goblin looks as if he would rather be elsewhere or call other patrons for help, but then he simply spits on the floor and mumbles "This is what I get for messing with humans." He sighs and then says more loudly "Yeah, all right. I'll get you there."
He leads you outside and then through the maze of alleys and tunnels. At least ten minutes pass while you navigate the narrow passageways beneath Sharn's towers, until you reach a dead-end alley, so narrow that no more than two of you can walk abreast. At the end of the alley a flickering magelight shines on a body lying in a puddle of dirty water mixed with freshly spilled blood.