Seras, taking a brief break from the clock making, hears someone else talking about the sorcerer making mischief and storms onto the deck, fuming visibly. Alternatively, she mentally adds to the crew's admonishments, you could stop making trouble with the damn Oriens before they kick us all off the damn boat! Without an audible word she attempts to sieze Threll by the earlobe, mentally ranting about being responsible for a twenty-something year old magical child and how she's known literal one year olds (granted, they were Warforged, but still,) with a better sense of boundaries and the proper uses of magic and how all she wanted to do was make a damn clock and not play damage control because somebody doesn't understand the concept of not pushing one of the two Houses that makes swift travel across Eberron a possibility.
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Guardian follows Threll up out of the brig and watches curiously as he begins to climb the mast of the ship.
Now you're just asking for it. I suspect you're not going to make your point, you're going to make their point.
After a short time Seras appears, fuming at the commotion he's caused. He attempts to lighten her mood with a brilliant suggestion. "Perhaps if I sit on him for the rest of the trip we can avoid any more trouble." He flashes his customary warforged smile, which ends up looking more like he's positioning his face to detach his lower jaw. It never works as well for others as he thinks.
After his teammates are done rebuking him Threll gives a huff of exasperation and says, ”Fine, fine, if everyone wants me to just sit around and be for the next two days I will. This whole ‘sea travel’ thing is no fun. I expected pirate attacks and sea monsters not plaintive passengers and shipwrights who insult my honor when I can’t even retort properly!” his fingers arc with a bit of lightning as he crescendos to the end, though he is careful to not let it flare further.
Threll calms himself and finds the highest place the he is allowed to sit and waits for the trip to be over.
The second day of your voyage has you stopping at Korrenberg asround evening. Passengers and cargo are quickly unloaded and then reloaded, as the ship disembarks as soon as its done.
Threll still finds people glancing at him, some in wonder and others with skorn. Not all the passengers had gotten off and some rumors of your misdeeds has made it way towards the new passengers.
You find the third day a bit rough and the Captain request all passengers should stay below decks. While the elemental ring and the back of the boat makes the ship move faster and a bit calmer. Strong waves do cause the ship some trouble. Its approaching evening when your able to move around again.
Threll goes a tad stir crazy stuck below decks with the rest of the passengers. He is amused by all the new people as they trade out with the other prudes but soon notices the whispering among those who remain.
Threll is quick to shrug it off and say "Bah, only two more days..."
That evening Threll is maintaining post on the highest part of the ship which he is allowed to sit on.
Seras spends the day mostly by continuing to work on her watch at a leisurely pace.
As night falls and Threll and XI find themselves on deck. They find an enjoyable evening. Threll is able to shimmy up the main sail as the watch seems to be ignoring him for now. Up top in the crows nest you find another watchmen who seeing you gives you a dirty look and a muttered "Better make sure he doesn't fall" before tossing you a support line.
On deck a few curious sailors crowd around XI asking him about his time in the war, where he was and one is even brazen enough to ask, "Do warforged have souls? Before being smacked by one of his fellows.
Down in your room Seras finds that the trip has hit a smoother point and makes great headway in her watch.
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XI is happy any sailors are willing to approach him and ask about his past. He expects they wanted to hear about ferocious action on the front-lines and not his protection of a royal child.
"I don't know. I'm still unsure what makes up a soul..." He knows they didn't mean for him to answer it seriously, but it's something he thinks on often. "I suppose since I was created in a forge it would be easier for you if I didn't. Otherwise, what is the importance of being a humanoid of flesh?" He probably didn't make any friends with this statement but he leaves them to chew on it anyway.
Threll looks at the offered rope like a dead fish for a second before seeing another rope similarly tied to the Watchmen's waist. He follows suit, tying himself off with a reply of "My thanks..."
He tries not to talk, for once, enjoying the quiet of the night at sea.
Threll is marveled by how the ocean water seems to glow at night when he spreads his reptilian pupil. His reverie is cut short when he notices the boat. He casts on himself and turns to the watchmen before remembering his status as a troublemaker. Groaning audibly he says "Gods above, I think we are under attack before climbing out of the crows nest." as he climbs out of the crows nest.
"Eleven, get Doc. Now. We might be under attack, 8 on the approach. Small boat, in the ships shadow a few minutes out."
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Guardian nods as Threll finishes relaying his observations on the way down the mast. He first stops off in his room just long enough to grab his bow and then heads to Seras’ room.
”Seras, our little climber spotted an approaching ship. Let’s see how we can help with this.” He holds up his bow demonstratively before heading back to the deck without waiting.
When he rejoins Threll he takes a moment to manifest his astral armor. He focuses on the ship’s approach and waits.
Threll hurries tonhis room to retrieve his bow and quiver then hurried to the ship’s stern. On the way through his hurry, he runs past the first mate, and stops long enough to say, ”Enemy ship. 8 men. Ship’s stern, hidden in her shadow.”
Seras places her tools down, grabs her coat and, by extension, the contraptions within, and strides out the door after Guardian, snatching her cane and slipping it through her belt for safe keeping. She pulls a set of lenses from her pocket and slips them on over her eyes, lines of magic carved through the frames enhancing her ability to quickly process information through contact with her head.
She takes the deck and walks to the stern of the ship, attempting to spot their tail.
As the crew start shouting for a call to arms, one the shipwright seems to cast a spell, with it a flare is shot into the air giving everyone a chance to see what in the boats shadow. The eight cloaked figures are about 30 feet away from the side of the boat, easily keeping up with its speed. The figure in the front, draws his sword as the he gets near. The rest draw various looking daggers, axes and shortswords.
Threll will wait for any attempt to board, and will fry the first thing to attempt to cross the gap onto their ship.
Initiative Order:
S - 26
SC - 21
Threll - 20
Seras - 18
XI- 10
The boat moves closer as the leader stands to make his move, the wind from the elemental ring throws back the his cloaks hood, showing the desiccated skull of and undead. As their boat slams into the ship, all the cloaked figures jump towards the ship.
Most don't make it, the leading undead is able to jump onto the ship and slowly start to climb aboard. Another two make it as well, the rest slam into the ship and fall into the water, no screams, and no resurfacing.
Threll will start his volley by peering over the ships side and lashing out at the undead leader
After taking a moment to attempt to identify the undead, Seras straps her Shield device to her offhand and moves in front of Threll, tugging her blade free of the scepter and raising it to the middle guard. "Well, c'mon, then! Don't suppose you sacks of rot are smart enough to monologue about who sent you?"
The skeleton leader takes the bolt head on, after some sparking which lights up his skull. It falls into the sea. The other try to climb aboard.
One loses its grip and falls into the sea, the other climbs aboard provoking an attack from XI.
Sighing as she realizes she'll have to hit much harder than she normally does to even slightly injure a skeleton, Seras advances on the nearest undead, sword flashing out in a violet-colored glimmer of light to try and damage the spinal column.
XI's blade cleave's through the figure, bones scatter as it drops its weapon and you hear a metal scraping wood sound as its armor seems to slide across the deck. You find this one had been carrying a bastard sword and wearing chain. The crowd quickly applauds you for your brave actions, some seem to even forgive Threll as they approach.
But soon the crowd disperses and the remaining trip is uneventful.
Having earned some form of good will, Threll will find the first mate after the excitement goes down.
He very calmly states ”I spotted that ship in the night because I had snuck to the crows nest. To my eyes, night is the same as day. Do I have your permission to continue to do so? I like it up there, and if it helps I’m out of the way up there.”
At the end of this exchange He will then go get his backpack packed Taking it and his bow to the deck, he refuses to go below for the remainder of the trip
It is mid-morning when you finally arrive in Rhukasn Draal. The goblin our city was built around what was once a Cyran frontier town, and today it has grown into a sprawling goblin or metropolis. The city appears as a crazy architectural tapestry; mud and timber huts surround structures of stone and brick, interspersed with canvas tents and pavilions. Most of the roads are bare earth, and few of the wonders or conveniences of Sharn are evident here. Within the ramshackle city, a single building dominates the skyline -- an enormous tower of red stone that rises up from the very center of the city. This is Khaar Mbar'ost, the court of the Lhesh Haruuc, the hobgoblin King.
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XI steps off the boat and looks around.
"This looks more like a permanent war encampment than an organized city..." he remarked mentally to his companions.
"Have we used up our good will with the ship's crew, or do you think we could still bother them for directions to the Bloody Market. I'd prefer if Seras asked, given Threll's voyage antics and my being warforged."
"There's probably something to be said about even needing to ask that question. Oh, how I can't wait to see you plow through House politics like a bull in a tinker's workshop, Threll. It's going to be hilarious."
She turns to the nearest crewman and asks aloud, "Do you know how we can get to the Bloody Market?"
Threll will find the captain or first mate and say, ”Been a pleasure! I can be contacted at the Hounds headquarters in Sharn.”
Threll will buzz around the passers-by at port, asking for directions and rumors.
The crew easily point you in the right direction, everyone suggests you keep an eye on your purses and within arms reach of your warforged companion. As you get there you understand why, almost every bit of haggling to be done is bloody. Almost all trades go with the one who threatened the other buy or sell to give the better price. Though when an argument happens the guards are quick to step in, unfortunately they step in to help the store owner.
You once seen a goblin merchant get struck by a bugbear, as he rose with a bloody, toothy grin, the guards came up and quickly dispatched the creature. The merchant was quick to look the dead bugbears pockets, quickly tossing over the creatures purse after a quick assessment. It seems you might have your work cut out finding Failin.
As they approach the Market, Seras details her plan to her allies. I say we split up but stay in contact. We've got a huge advantage here, in that we don't have to be seen as one entity. She covers her shoulder guard with her cloak discreetly, hiding the crest from casual inspection. Besides, we're big kids, we can handle a marketplace without dying.
The actual sight of the Bloody Market makes her question that assumption. Unless anyone has a better plan...
Having no clue where to start, Threll says, ”Why not simply ask a guard?”
Finding one nearby, numerous as they are in the market, Threll asks, ”Excuse me I am looking for someone named Failin, might you know where I could find him? Or, perhaps, someone else who could point me in the right direction?
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This plan makes sense Seras. I suspect I won't stray far from you or Threll though, in case I run into some warforge hate...
XI walks further than Threll to the first row of market stalls, and stops at a fruit stall. He spends a bit of gold on fruit to gain favor with the vendor before dropping his question about where Failin might be found...
I say we split up but stay in contact. We've got a huge advantage here, in that we don't have to be seen as one entity.[/I]
As Threll approaches what can only be a guard, he notices that its a hobgoblin wearing good quality armor, a good sword and carries himself better than most. When you get close a companion gives him a smack on the armor and a chin point at Threll. Turning you see him, with a sneer "Yeah I think I saw him, he's about ya tall..." and proceeds to give a familiar discription.
"he went off in that direction," point off in a direction before turning away.
Guardian doesn't do any better.
Don’t shock the guard, he’ll just stab you...don’t shock the guard he’ll just stab you...
Calming himself, he regains the attention of the same guard, ”Either he looks a lot like me or you just need some incentive to help me. Fair enough, 2 gold pieces for the proper directions then?”
The hobgoblin turns back and looks at the coins in your hand, taking a quick look around he smirks before grabbing the coins and pointing down the way "See that sign the shows a human being cooked like a stuffed pig, try there. Now scram before I bring you in for disturbing my peace."
The goblin looks at XI, "Yes you may." He waves his arms to show his meager setup. His stall has several weapons of various quality, glancing at one you think that it has fresh blood on it. Seeing the weapon your looking at the goblin rushes over and with a toothy grin quickly cleans the weapon. As you investigate the shop the goblin seems to walk around you with movements that seems to look like waving arms. He gets an excited look on his face.
"Failin....Me know a Failin works out of a warehouse on the docks."
Oh its a full out lie, your quite sure that even if he knew Failin, he wasn't at this warehouse.
"No? But me know where Failan friend is, trust me." you quickly find out the truth when he miss pronounces Failin's name.
Threll will look for the nearest teammate and share the glorious news that he has found Failin, as well as news that bribing guards here is cheaper apparently. "He said Failin down the middle way here, over there with the sign that looks like a roasting human."
Threll will lead to the establishment. On the way, he stops to ask passersby,
Seras walks through the crowd, making sure to keep close enough to Threll and Guardian that she was in no danger of being lost in the crowds, twisting a few gears together and consulting her notes a couple times. A minute later, her hard work is rewarded with a simple construct: a piece of ivory enshrined in the shell of a pocket watch, surrounded by dials and springs. She clicked the top of the watch, setting the tensely wound springs and gears to whirring, and felt the gentle currents of magic flow around her, bits and pieces of knowledge on how to find people from past incarnations.
@Threll
"That place, you don't want to go there. Thats the Red Hand's hangout, notorious warriors and bandits. The owner of that place was their chef, apparently his specialty is Roast Human."
@Seras
You've tracked Failin down to a tavern called the Clenched Fist. As well as picked up some rumors of the man. Failin of House Orien was disowned year ago for unknown reasons. He makes his living exploring ruins throughout Darguun and selling relics to his contact back in central Khorvaire.
Failin's most prized possession, an elemental-powered land cart, helps his archaeological endeavors. When relic hunting doesn't pay the bills, he ferries visitors throughout the northern portion of the nation for a premium fee.
With quick words Seras informs you whats she discovered and leads you to a tavern a couple blocks from the Bloody Market. A placard above the door displays a mummified ogre's hand clenched tightly in a fist and nailed in place. This rundown tavern appears to cater to human and members of the other common races.
Threll being the socialite, quickly talks up the bartender who directs you to a corner table in the rear of the room where a man sits alone. A gangly human with a shock of unruly red hair and bright blue eyes in sunken sockets, sits there nursing a mug. His lined and weathered skin contrasts with his clean and well tailored clothing.
Threll thinks for a moment, then with a grin he sends ”Guys, I’ve got it.”
then, conjuring his best friendly smile, he asks the bartender for two of whatever he is drinking.
Taking the mugs, Threll nonchalantly sits at the man’s table and moves the second of the mugs between them, without saying a word. He stares at the man, smiling and saying nothing as he sips his own mug, waiting.
”I am Threll Aeckson. With me are , Seras and Eleven.” Whispering, he continues, ”Are you Failin, perhaps?”
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XI follows Threll into the tavern and notes the seeming microcosm of ancestral diversity after wading through the horde of unhelpful goblins.
When Threll sits down at a specific table he quickly follows into the next chair, as he's unsure if one would mistake a warforged as purposely threatening "muscle" (cleaving history aside). He awaits the man's response.
Seras, for her part, orders something light, since not ordering would stand out more but magical devices and strong drink don't mix. She takes a seat on the other side of Guardian XI, raising an eyebrow at Threll.