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Stillstone Holt is a small community of Kalashtar within the city of Stormholme. The city was basically neutral ground during the Last War, which brought a lot of groups scheming their way within. The Kalashtar established Stillstone Holt as a sleepy fishing village from where they could wage their war on the Dreaming Dark as well as the Lords of Dust.
You have come to a seemingly sleepy village within Stormhome with your own desires. Whether it is for fighting the Dreaming Dark or something more similar.
Everyone post with a monologue to get started. This is to help you get into character. Think of how your character fits into Eberron and why you come to Stormhome.
There was faith here, of what kind Gramaton did not fully know. He got the impression from what he had learned of the Kalashtar so far in this area that they viewed themselves as a force for good in the struggle. But people often did. They had belief in their cause, struggle strengthened or broke faith he found.
But people rarely considered themselves evil, they just did what they had to do to survive, to protect their family, their nation. He had fought in the Last War for under the Banner of Karrnath. His commanders and the humans who fought alongside him didn't consider themselves evil. Just pragmatic but some of the things they had done... perhaps he had been evil. He had just been following orders he might justify to himself but he did follow them.
The Warforge lumbered down the street, examining a piece of wood that had been carved and shaped into a fanciful scene, two humanoids in an embrace wrapped with flames that flickered around their body. He could appreciate the skill. He stood there examining it without touching for several minutes.
He had come to understand their faith, their belief both of a religious nature and in their cause. The people of Khorvaire had created the Warforged through cunning ingenuity but the Faith of the Warforged was having it's own effect. Like a vast fortress the Becoming God was being constructed in the minds and souls of many Warforged. He hoped that the bricks he lay though a small part would help do their part to ensure it would be a benefit to the world.
Some would think him mad, but this was not new when it came to religion. The followers of the Sovereign Host claimed almost all other gods were a misinterpretation of their Gods. If so then perhaps the Becoming God would be one misinterpretation of many, just as real as most others. Some argued the gods weren't truly real. Then the Becoming God would be just as real. It was interesting to consider and that was the goal, greater understanding. These things take time and-
"Are you interested in buying that?"
Gramaton looked at the woman and approximated a smile. "Not today thank you." He moved away. More information, more understanding was needed.
As the Halfling stepped off the boat he looked around at the strange little down piled up on itself. He was used to the unending expanse of the Talenta plains and even the city of Gather hold had been more spread out with it's smaller simpler buildings. Here Every single building seemed to have two or three stories, a necessity when building between the ocean and a cliff.
The boat ride had been exciting and the seemingly endless expanse of water had reminded him of the plains he had lived most of his life. The captain had been kind enough making a few jokes about Halflings being good luck but Gerrytt was fairly certain it was his fathers money that had been the pilots true source of joy.
As Gerrytt looked around the dock he reached a hand out unconsciously and ran it along the leg of his dinosaur. He couldn't make heads or tails of where he was because of his inability to see past all the taller species around him. With a practiced leap the Halfling jumped into the saddle of his Clawfoot to get a better look around.
Well Glenn... It would seem this would be home for a little while. We best figure out who I'm supposed to be giving this letter of introduction too.
With a quick gesture he pulled out a worn looking piece of parchment that was sealed with the symbol of house Jorasco, well worn from it's time riding in the dinosaur's saddle pack and bearing a name... GM I'm leaving it to you to decide on the contents of and then name on the letter. Does it belong too a relative, maybe a member of house Jorasco, a local official, one of the Kalashtar, or perhaps even one of the other PC's?
Looking at the letter the Halfling looked towards the closest person and asked them if they had any idea where he should start looking for his quarry.
|Glen the Clawfoot|
Glenn looked around at the strange cliff full of fake caves. Already the Dinosaur missed the boat. The Sailors had given him all the fish he could eat. His head perked up... was that fish he could smell... Fish was a new food to him but he like it. Then his master said something to him.
#@$@# Glenn... !@ !@#$@ !@#@ !@ home !@# !@!@#@ !@@@#$. !@ !@#@ !@#@ !#$@#@#$@# !@ #@ !@@#!@# !@## !#$@#! !@ $%#@!##@#@# !@#$ !
As usual the dinosaur had no real idea what his short rider had said, but as long as there was the smell of fish in his new home maybe it wouldn't be so bad.
Breacher entered the sleepy-looking fishing village. It didn't seem to be any sort of trouble, but during his first few missions in Darguun, the goblins had been happy to teach him that trouble could come out of nowhere. It seemed quite unlikely that the two situations were similar, though. And so, he found himself walking the streets of this little village, getting a feel for its ins and outs. The airship-passage-for-guard-duty arrangement that had gotten him here had seemed like a good idea at the time, but now what? The ship had put in, and Breacher found himself halfway across Khorvaire with no clear goal in sight...
Nicco was already tired, and the day had only just begun. Still, he has as happy as he had ever been, and grateful to be in Stillstone Holt, safe and sound. The tavern owner was relentless, but the young boy enjoyed the toil, which was a refreshing change from the tests and lessons of his past...
Two serious-looking men stepped into the tavern. Kalashtar? Quori? Had agents of The Thousand Eyes found him even here, far from Sarlona? His pulse quickened, but he remained calm as he took their order and served two pints of watered-down ale and bowls of that awful soup the cook called stew.
He was certain that they were up to something. He noticed one of them ever so discreetly signal to the barkeep, and his hand almost reached for one his expertly hidden knifes. You're just being paranoid, he convinced himself, making his way almost invisibly through the crowd.
"Nicco!" the barkeep barked. Nicco ran rather than walked, and the fat man who drank as much as he served handed him a small package. No need to say anything. Nico understood. Smugglers. Relieved, he delivered the goods, and headed back tot he kitchen to wash a mountain of dirty plates and sticky cups.
It's getting late, and the rising of steam along the road has everyone drawn to a small hospital run by the dragonmarked house, House Jorasco. The little hospital has a surgery, triage, and post op. It also has a place where labs are done on bloodwork and other fluids. It's a small hospital, no bigger than the warehouses around it. But the Kalashtar in the region depends on it.
sorry everyone, I thought everyone had posted.
Irus the Beggar enjoys the meal served to him by the healers of House Jorasco. He occasionally delivers messages and runs errands for them, and they are always friendly and generous. They do not judge him, and they don't ask any questions, respecting his privacy.
I didn't chose this life, he mutters while drinking the warm broth.
While eating, he listens to the news: the hospital is an ideal place to learn what is happening in the neighbourhood given that anybody wounded usually ends up here. Also, the other poor souls who receive the hospital's generous hospitality often have a tale to tell...
The door opened and in walked a Halfling followed by a rather 'carnivorous' looking dinosaur. He seemed happy as his gaze fell upon a table and set of chairs against one of the walls obviously intended for someone of Halfling stature. He walked over by the table leading his animal and pointed to the empty corner by the smaller table.
The dinosaur immediately responded to the command laying down in a circle with his head resting on his tail where he could easily watch the whole room.
Quietly the fellow dressed in clothes that seemed to make him uncomfortable pulled out a handful of berries and intoned a few words over them.
Casting Goodberry: 2d4 ⇒ (1, 4) = 5
Smiling he selected one and tucked into a small piece of meet that he pulled from his pouch. He tossed the small snack to the dinosaur who quickly snatched it from the air. Taking another berry he ate it himself. Taking one last look to make sure his dinosaur would stay settled the Halfling turned to the room addressing anyone who would care to listen.
Um... Excuse me.... But... um... Does anyone know where Salindra d'Jorasco is. I have a letter for her.
The half-elf Jessilel Lyn looks down some of the streets of the town, examining it over. Her dress and accessories not particularly fitting the local decor, but she doesn't care.
"Hm, this may not be the party town I was lead to believe... I hope he wasn't lying to me..." she mutters to herself. "I will have to find something interesting..."
"I'll find her!" Irus assures the Halfling.
Ever willing to curry favour, Irus rushes to find either Salindra or a leader among the healers in order to be the first to announce the arrival of the important-seeming newcomer.
Finding her takes a perception roll. As she is doing paperwork and it's hard enough to find her in the hospital.
Jessilel Lyn wondered if summoning up her eidolon in a hospital would be bad manners... though in the end she decided that while that didn't matter, she was annoyed enough with her partner to not call him forth quite yet, especially as it was due to his advice she ended up here.
Hospitals did seem like places to meet interesting people, now that she thought about it, people here had done something interesting enough to get hurt over...
Failing to find her, Irus takes the time to ask around to see if anyone knows where she is.
She's in her office, they tell her, and someone was kind enough to show you to her office. She walks out of her office in time to see you, Irus. "What is it?" she asks in a huff.
The Warforged began to move through the corridors of the hospital. Perhaps he could do some good hear and learn from it in the bargain. Those who were sick and injured often turned to faith. He had acted in a way as a sort of Battlefield Chaplain in his travels to people of various faiths. Magical healing for the general masses was given out for coin by house Jerasco or to the faithful by priests of that church.
Sorry I hadn't realized posting had started.
The grim faced kalashtar doing manual labor at the hospital stops to watch the parade of newcomers enter one by one.
"I'm going to go have a look at what all these strangers are here for." Citlackhad says to the sweaty halfling unloading gear with him.
"No problems Citty. Thanks for helping out, see you next time." The halfling says with a grin and a wave. Citlackhad just grunts and walks off, long having given up trying to get him to stop with the nickname.
The overly large, dour looking kalashtar moves off to have a look at these strangers, as he thinks about how not long ago he was the stranger. Has it really been six months since I came here? He remember coming here after drifting from place to place since the war, looking for something to prove that his existence was worth something. He came to this village looking for a cousin he that was said to live here, only to be told that he had moved on. Disheartened Citlackhad decided to stay here for a time, helping out where he could spending what remained of his meager pay from the army.
Citlackhad shakes himself out of his gloomy thoughts as he catches a glimpse of a warforged trying to make himself useful.
"There is a fellow here to see you. It seems important," he addresses her with proper respect and deference. "He has a letter for you, he says."
Eager to led the way, Irus takes a step towards the hall. Perhaps he hopes for a coin, for this troubles?
"Someone has a letter for me, where is he?" she asks.
While waiting for the appearance of Salindra, Gerrytt nervously smiles at the other people in the room. He pulls once again at a collar that he doesn't seem used to.
I wonder who Salindra is to my father. A sister, cousin, or maybe even mother. Could I possibly have Grandmother. Possibly just another member of the house he's familiar with. Maybe she was a girl from my fathers past, much like my own mother. Maybe dad was a philanderer when he was younger, I hope not... too many possibilities. Or maybe she'll just be a relative so distant that it's impossible to determine our relationship.
perception: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (2) + 9 = 11
Obviously flustered and a little surprised by Salindra's sudden appearance the young halfling, not used to these kinds of social situations managed to stammer out a reply.
hello... um .. lady... Salindra.. My er... well... I have a letter!
Gerrytt pulls out the sealed parchment, clutched in a hand that bears a dragonmark that matches the seal on the letter, and it holds it out to the other halfling.
Th big kalashtar moves towards the warforged wearing the symbol of it's strange god. "I haven't seen you around here before, are you here for business or just having a look?"
Citlackhad looks at the first person he has seen for a while that is close to his size. Thinking I didn't know that followers of the warforged god cared much for the hardships of the other races.
For reference Citlackhad is 6'8" and weighs over 200lbs, very big for a kalashtar. He is wearing coarse, hard-wearing clothing with no eye for fashion and his features are plain and fairly monotone. Including his expressionless face.
"I'm bored so I will give you a brief tour of the place, maybe we'll find someone talkative." Saying that Citlackhad gives a brief follow me gesture and starts walking slowly around the hospital, showing the warforged what he knows about the hospital. Most of his explanations are brief, to the point and without any personal opinions at all. "The halflings here aren't quite as money-grubbing as some other members of House Jorasco I have met so it's a fairly nice place."
Citlackhad looks at this new person that involved herself in the conversation. "Didn't say they weren't the best, and even if they weren't it is their right to charge what they want. I quite respect most of them.... even if they do like money too much."
He frowns with a thoughtful expression on his face, then nods confidently as though the conversation were over.
"Curious, how were previous members of the house money grubbing? Rates for the various Dragonmarked House services are generally fixed and kept uniform throughout their operations. Their demeanor must be the cause for these individuals to be worthy of the inclination of money grubbing. Or were the individuals you refer to only loosely affiliated with the house?"
Citlackhad sighs and replies. "With the constant need for healing on this continent of Khorvaire House Jorasco earns more than they could spend in a lifetime if used wisely. And yet they still work themselves to the bone. It truly is a case of not knowing the worth of something unless a price is given. They know their place in this world and make sure others do as well. In a way I envy them their understanding, for some it is not so easy." At this he frowns with a distant look on his face.
"Maybe I spoke to crudely, it was not my intention to insult the members of the Healing House, I suppose it truly is a case of envying what one does not have."
Salindra takes the letter, opens it, and proceeds to read it. "Oh, a message from my cousin," she said. "He says that he acknowledges you as his son, but not his heir. But still he wants you to work for House Jorasco. Perhaps we can find you work here, if that's your desire Gerrytt."
Gerrytt smiled a bit relieved at simply knowing his relationship to this lady.
Um... thank you Ma'am... if you can find a way for me to help out around here I would be happy to. My mother taught me the ways of a shaman on the Talenta plains so I have a fair amount of skill as a healer... not to mention a little experience with animals...like Glenn here.
Gerrytt holds up his fist with his palm towards himself. Clearly Visible on the back of his hand is his Dragonmark of Healing.
With a smile he looks towards the halfling who had asked to see it.
Iv'e had it my whole life, and it can even let me heal a few things that my mother says should be beyond my current abilities.
"If you like, I can find a guide for you, to show you around the neighbourhood,"Irus proposes to Gerrytt, seeing that as he had imagined, the Halfling is of some importance.
He then turns to the half-elven woman, having overheard her speak: "And I know just the place, if you're looking for a drink and a good story!"
The poor and hungry beggar seems overly eager, as if worried that in the end, he will receive not a single coin for his troubles.
"They provide a useful service and can heal most soldiers. It is quite beneficial to a settlement to have a good presence of the house. I can respect that."
"May I ask, why are you stationed here? Or is it less formal than that. Visiting someone perhaps or a service user who has received aid?" The Warforged turns to look at the half elven woman after he asks the male Kalashtar the question.
"You mam, what is your role here?"[/b]
Absentmindedly Pulling at the collar of his shirt Gerrytt took a moment to think before answering.
I consider myself a fairly skilled healer and think I could contribute allot here. But to be honest... Iv'e spent most of my life on the move. On the plains you follow the herds. So I was a little worried about the idea of staying in one place for too long and I'm not sure how useful Glen would be here. But in the end I guess I just want to help out in whatever way is needed the most.
"Oh, yes, certainly," Jessilel absently hands Irus a coin, "You'll have to tell me all the stops."
Knowledge, Local: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (20) + 4 = 24
The beggar happily pockets the coin. gp? sp? cp?
"I can recommend a lively place, but I would encourage you to take some muscle along for protection, just in case," Irus says, looking at the immense Kalashtar suggestively, before giving the half-elf lady some directions.
Citlackhad looks at the beggar then at the young lady. "My parents always told me to look out for others, I'd be willing to escort you."
He looks to the warforged he was guiding. "Would you like to come with us, he is probably a better guide than me." He says jerking his head at the begger as he flicks him a gold piece.