All of you have worked for your institution for at least a year, whether it was the military, police, or customs. Recently your boss told you that you have been selected for a special mission and that you were to report to the Feshira Hotel.
The Hotel is a moderate hotel, but it does have all the ammenities, including a bar with a radio! (an uncommon thing and a sign of the hotels wealth)
You have rooms for each of you.
Inerri was carefully packing her belongings. The young Faelin woman had received word from her superiors that she had a new assignment. Within the hour she had everything in its place; her weapons were close at hand, a wand ready to mend wounds , and components ready for spells. Confident she was ready Inerri made for the door. She glanced back at the blank looking room, it was if no one had been there. Just as she had been taught.
Inerri made her way down the stairs and down a short hallway to exit out the rear door. Glancing one way the the other she started down the alleyway towards the main street where she was lost in the crowd. Taking a long tracked route brought the bard the several blocks to the Feshira Hotel within an hour.
Inerri entered through the front doors and stepped to the left. There the woman took in the entrance layout. With a smile and nod the the man at the front desk she made her way to a side door into the lounge area. She choose an end stool and slid her backpack to the ground by her feet. She flashed the bartender a smile and asked for a Pale Ale. As he went about getting the drink Inerri looked about the room noting several other individuals at small tables partaking in their own conversations or drink.
Not long after, a weather worn mass of metal and muscle enters the hotel. Clearly out of sorts in these slightly more refined conditions, he appears as though he would be more suited to sleeping outdoors than in a hotel. His mass of abnormally large weapons (a 7 ft curved sword at his belt and what appears to be some kind of 18 ft glaive and massive bow slung on his back under an equally massive shield) would suggest that, while he may not walk softly, he enjoys carrying a big stick.
In any case, after glancing around the room. He pulls two large stools together at the bar and orders a large tankard of water. Taking large gulps he drains the tankard in no time asking for another. As he waits, he looks for anyone other than himself that might look out of place.
The bartender returns with a smile, and a bottle, "Here you go, Lady. This is a Raston, from Itekai, my personal favorite."
Inside the bar, the bartender comes over and points to the corner with a couple stools made for large people, "Would you like a more comfortable stool?"
Ériu looks hard at the doorman, while I don't doubt your ability to reimburse any damages, I would prefer my weapons stay with me. However, I don't suppose I'll be getting in without handing it over. He stares hard at the man for a moment and grudgingly hands the pole arm over.
After another large gulp, Ériu Grunts in the affirmative and moves to a larger stool, giving the room a quick once over as he does so.
Anumil Rythen shouldered his way through the heavy door of the hotel, shifting his pack awkwardly around to one shoulder to do it. The orders were so general he brought his whole kit with him; Duelling sword, shortsword, shortbow and ammo(except the pike).
Once inside, he swept his eyes around the lobby and bar; no use taking chances. Relieved nothing attacked him, he referred to his orders, adjusted his uniform cap and jacket, then marched across to the concierge at his desk.
Coming to attention, he saluted.
"Excuse me sir, I am Corporal Rythen. I'm to report..."
The concierge looked up and gave a brief amused smile.
"Yes sir, we've been expecting you. Here is your room key, room 3-K on the third floor."
Nonplussed, Anumil accepted the key. "Ah, wasn't there anything else? No messages?"
The concierge checked behind the desk. "No sir, no message."
Puzzled, Anumil turned towards the main stairway.
"Enjoy your stay!" Called the concierge.
Walking quickly up the stairs, he makes his way to his assigned room. Unsheathing his sword, he unlocks and pushes the door in from the side. When no one attacks, he slids in along the side of the wall. With a whisper he cast a Light on the tip of his blade. Quickly he moved through his room, checking for intruders.
Relieved at finding no one, he heaved his pack onto a handy chair and sheathed his sword. He removed his uniform cap and ran his fingers through his longish hair.
He was confused. The orders were brief but clear enough. He was supposed to meet his contact here, but there was no sign. Not even a message.
Well. Nothing to do but wait then.
But as the minutes dragged by, he became restless. Shrugging off his uniform jacket, he opened his collar for comfort. Taking only his sword belt, he stepped out into the hall. He hesitated, then plucked a hair and stuck it between the door and doorframe up high as he shut and locked his door.
Moving down the stairs, he went to the bar and ordered a glass of the house wine. Glancing around, still no sign of a contact. The usual exotic mix of mostly business travellers. He went to a comfortable chair in the lounge with a view of the front door, lobby and window. He picked up a newspaper and settled in to wait.
In your room there is a a folded note with the briefing time. Perhaps you thought it was a welcome note from the hotel, since it was in the hotel's stationary and some hotels do that.
In the lounge you see a few military folks at one of the tables talking. They are higher ranking ones and the conversation seems to be important.
You also note an officer at the bar, she is someone you have seen before, she was with a group training in the badlands and led you to the FCC, though you didn't speak to her personally. She seems to be here unofficially though, as she is drinking beer.
Note;
You heard from your boss that the mission briefing is tomorrow morning. If you go to your room, you will find a note to that effect, with the time and room.
If the Major happens to look in Inerri's direction she gives him a respectful not of acknowledgement. Turning to the bartender, "Many thanks, I can really use it after my last few days." She takes up the bottle and sips the beverage. After gauging the taste for a moment she smiles with approval, "Raston, I will remember that." She takes out a few coins and leaves a small tip for the bartender.
Inerri looks over Ériu with an assessing gaze before flashing the giant of man a smile and turns her attention towards the elf. The Faelin woman smiles at Anumil, "Good afternoon."
One individual at the bar is an enigma among the others. Not a member of any of the more common races, his face is like a snake's, his shoulders are broad, and he seems at peace. He is clad in heavy armor, a black bardiche on his back, and wrapped around in burgundy and orange robes, bordered with feathers. Occasionally he would write in an elaborately bound book he carried, in a careful script.
But for now, he seemed content to sit at the bar, tongue flicking out to sample the drink proffered him. He turned to watch the Faelin, the giant, and the elf.
Glancing up from his paper (more sensationalist drivel), Anumil allowed the movement of the crowd to drift into routine. After a few minutes he noticed a couple of anomalies.
A catfolk female sitting at the bar, as well as a monitor further down along the bar. Both armed and armored more heavily than the crowd, both with physical movment and builds betraying military training, both also checking out the crowd just like he was.
Hm.
More than a coincidence, but also not the usual run of bounty hunters also.
Draining his glass, Anumil casually rose from his chair and made his way to the bar for a refill. Along the way he passed closely by the table with the ranking officers, curious as to the low and intense conversation. No luggage, so not travellers.
At the bar, he ordered another glass of the Saerloonian Glowfire (an excellent vintage). Turning to the catfolk female, he is startled to recognize her from when he first ventured into the Confederacy. He raised a glass to her.
"I beg your pardon madame, but have we met? Perhaps on the borderlands?"
The bartender isn't in the least bit interested in Malazzesh's appearence, almost as though he's seen it plenty of times, though a few of the patrons look with curiousity, though no-one seems be staring.
Inerri noticed the snake-man's attention and wondered if she had ever heard of his kind before today. She returned her gaze to the elf and with a continued smile she resonded to his question, "No and yes." She chuckled to herself before she continued, "We have never actually met, but I do recall seeing you on the borderlands. It might be best to discuss such matters, at a later time though."
She holds out a furry hand, "Inerri, pleased to meet you."
Knowledge (local)
With slow, deliberate movements, the snake-man gets off his seat and approaches Anumil and Inerri. "The borderlands can be a very harsh place, and yet you survive with a purity in your heart. I am called Malazzesh. Your care for others shines as a beacon of hope. I am honored by your presence."
Malazzesh bows before them, in a stiff yet languid movement.
Anumil takes Inerri's hand and bows over it in the correct manner, clicking his heels as he does so.
"You were there? Than I am doubly glad to meet you as well."
At Malazzesh's approach, he bows before him as well.
"You honor this poor fugitive too much surely."
He looks back and forth between them.
"If I may touch on a delicate subject, I note that you two are not the usual kind of customers at this establishment. Have you been... sent to contact me?"
Malazzesh responds, unblinkingly, "We have all been sent to meet here."
Inerri bows her head slightly towards the Monitor, "The honor is ours. I am Inerri."
The Faelin's brow raises at the mentioning that she might not be the usual patron of such astablishment and flashes a smile, "More than you might realize my elven friend."
"Sorry not I. But it would seem, as Malazzesh as said, that we appear to be here to meet the same person or persons." She says agreeing with the Monitor's assesment and adds, "Likely our large friend at the other end of the bar as well."
"Perhaps we should find ourselves a table?" Inerri asks and look for an open one and notes one in the far corner.
Perception:
Ériu finishes off his drink and heads to his room, making sure to collect his weaponry from the rack as he leaves the room. Upon entering he sits down on his bed pondering the recent events and his selection for a 'Special Mission'. Ériu grumbles to himself as he sits and fingers his blade. Special indeed, can't even show up to a fancy hotel on time, they'll be a mess on the road. After several minutes of grumbling to himself, Ériu finally spots the note on his bed and laughs silently at his own ignorance. Great, they aren't late I'm just early... Well, may as well try and find them back in the lounge, no sense expecting them in here. Ériu makes his way back to the lounge and again try's to pick out any military group that may seem out of place. Although it takes some time, Ériu finally notices an odd group sitting in the corner. As Elf, Cat, and Lizard continue there conversation, Ériu makes his way over to their table dragging one of the large stools with him.
Well, what have we here. You all seems like an odd lot sitting around together. Wouldn't happen to do with any 'special operations' would it?
The group of higher-ups breaks up and they leave, on the way out one of them, whose nameplate identifies him as Major Gavin, passes by and says, "Don't stay up too late you leave just after tommorrows briefing."
He then continues on his way out.
Regarding Major Gavin's passing, Malazzesh remarks, "So we have found each other."
When you each finally reach your rooms, there is a note detailing the place and time of the briefing the next morning to be at the Forest Room of the Reinhaldt Arena across the street at 8 AM.
"It would seems so," Inerri states. She sips at her ale and looks about the table.
"Since each of us was chosen for some sort of mission, perhaps we should share a little about ourselves. It is always good to know who one is dealing with, especially if your life is on the line." The Faelin comments.
The bard starts, "I am Inerri, I have served the Free Clans Confederacy for a short time. I am a student of the bardic craft and well versed in the art of public speaking and diplomatic ventures. I have studied a wide variety of subjects and happen to know an arcane spell or two." She smiles a cat-like grin, "Of course that is but a mere summery of my talents."
She leans back in her chair and looks about to the others before her to see who might go next.
At the mention of Acrane magics, Ériu's face darkens for a moment. Clearly he is not a particular fan of magic. "I am Ériu, though I am not as well versed as Inerri here, I know a think or two about survival and, though I may not be diplomatic, I like to think that I can be persuasive should the need arise." At this last comment Ériu cracks his knuckles and smiles harmlessly. "Besides that, I like to think I'm pretty good with a blade though in truth I prefer to keep my enemies at a distance."
Reinhaldt was one of the last humans from the original group that came to this world (coming to this world from elswhere has remained a truth here despite being relegated to supposition in many other places). Reinhaldt was a great fighter who helped found this town and defended it from a dragon in the early days of the settlement. He went on to make a large house and held contests in his field, making up new ones along the way. However as a human his life was shortlived, and many continued the contests after his death.
The arena was built on his field in honor of him and these contests. It has been rebuilt three time to accommodate more spectators over the decades, but the skeleton of Reinhaldts slain dragon still decorates the winners dias at the north end and is usually open to the many visiters between matchs.
Recently, there has been a challange tower constructed in the field where contestants try to get the best time for climbing to the top grabbing a red flag and bringing it to the dias.
The arena also houses many community support groups and has many conference and convention rooms, distinguished by environment type. The Forest Room is the largest room available and can hold a couple hundred people and often is host to one theatre group or another performing traditional (read homeworld era) plays and operas.
An older minotaur comes over to the table, "So you all are here for the conference too. I knew the the brass were worried about something big, at least we finally get to find out what. Name's Buck BTW. Any ideas what this might about? Do you thing it could be about what happened to Dustfall?" He seems genuine and pleasent, and antsy, though get the idea it's about the conference.
"Worry not Eriu, the magica I use is mostly flash and illusion, enough to distract others when necessary. I am sure that your own talents will shine where mine cannot." The cat-woman says to the giant.
She looks to the Minatuar that places himself at the table. "Greetings to you Buck. No idea. Got word this morning so here I am."
Current AC: 18 (15 Flat-footed / 13 Touch)
Current HP: 24 / 24 remaining
Current Weapon in Hand: none
Conditions in effect: none
Spells (0-level, DC 13, at will) Detect Magic, Light, Mage Hand, Mending, Prestidigitation, Read magic;
(1st level, DC 15, 4 or 4 spell slots) Cure Light Wounds, Grease, Silent Image, Vanish
Bardic Performance: 11 of 11 rounds per day remaining
DC 10
Dustfall has gone silent, rumor suggests the people there disappeared in some sort of catastrophe, A popular theory holds that a giant landslide took out the town.
DC 15
Dustfall is a small mining town in the badlands about three days south from Itekai (which is a week west-southwest from here)
The miners at Dustfall discovered a system of caves underneath the badlands but these caves seem to be crafted instead of natural.
DC 20
Dustfall had a major dicovery but the next day a garbled radio transmission was received from Dustfall. Nothing has been heard from them since.
DC 25
Dustfall had made peaceful contact with some unknown people the day prior to losing contact. The unknown people were at war with another faction.
A small group went to investigate but haven't returned or made contact.
Malazzesh looks at Buck. "Dustfall? You may be the one have the pieces put together first. What has happened at Dustfall?"
The minotaur looks at Malazzesh, "You mean other then going silent? Haven't got a clue, that's why I asked. Hoped one of you might know more."
As near as Mal (mind if I call you that?) can tell, Buck is telling the truth.
Anumil nods.
"And I am Anumil Rythen, Corporal of the City Guard at your service."
He bows to the group.
"A poor refugee, grateful for another chance here. I am a professional soldier, familiar with all arms. But I am most fond of the blade." He pats his sword fondly.
He straightens to attention as the minotaur comes to the table.
He just shakes his head at the mention of Dustfall, not having familiarity with this area yet.
Anumil may have heard of it's existance, the badlands exist between the Tauren Empire and the FCC. The worst of the badlands extend out to the west though.
The minotaur is well groomed and familier with the bartender, he has a standard policemans blade, though is not in uniform, instead he is wearing some light robes in subdued colors.
Inerri notices that Buck's robes are in a more northern style.
Inerri also notices some arguement taking place in a far corner, though can't tell what it's about.
Inerri looks to Malazzesh and then to all present and in a hushed tone adds, "After an announcement of an importance discovery, communication was lost with the mining town of Dustfall. I happened upon a report that miners had found a constructed cave system beneath the badlands."
The Fealin's ears twitch at the notice of an argument across the room and she tries to watch in a discreet fashion as she sips her ale.
She turns breifly to Buck and comments, "Are you from the north originally?"
Current AC: 18 (15 Flat-footed / 13 Touch)
Current HP: 24 / 24 remaining
Current Weapon in Hand: none
Conditions in effect: none
Spells (0-level, DC 13, at will) Detect Magic, Light, Mage Hand, Mending, Prestidigitation, Read magic;
(1st level, DC 15, 4 or 4 spell slots) Cure Light Wounds, Grease, Silent Image, Vanish
Bardic Performance: 11 of 11 rounds per day remaining
Buck replies almost sheepishly"In recent years yes, I have been living in Heathstrom for about 30 years or so now. Now I know why us Tuarens didn't win the war, thankfully my father didn't feel too insulted when I moved up here, but I like the trees so much better then the Gold Plains. What about you?"
"L'Aul, near the northern coast just outside the Laaick Forest." Inerri answers Buck's question. "Enjoyed a good amount of time in those woods." she says with a smile remembering the times with her family and clanmates.
She looks to the others as she and Buck seem to be taking up much of the conversation, "Perhaps it is time to turn in for the evening? Get a fresh start on the day."
Current AC: 18 (15 Flat-footed / 13 Touch)
Current HP: 24 / 24 remaining
Current Weapon in Hand: none
Conditions in effect: none
Spells (0-level, DC 13, at will) Detect Magic, Light, Mage Hand, Mending, Prestidigitation, Read magic;
(1st level, DC 15, 4 or 4 spell slots) Cure Light Wounds, Grease, Silent Image, Vanish
Bardic Performance: 11 of 11 rounds per day remaining
"Agreed. We need our rest."
You all awake the next morning feeling unusually refreshed. There was breakfast downstairs for those who stayed the night.
The arena has the concessions open and a few minor booths as well. There are many people here, most in uniform, all wearing their armbadges, which in unusual fashion are required to get in it seems that only FCC people are allowed in today, which is unusual.
Inerri wakes in the morning and prepares. Eating a bit of fruit before dressing in her full dress uniform.
The woman waits just outside for the others to arrive before entering with them. She watches in a causal fashion for anything that seems out of the ordinary while she waits.
Current AC: 18 (15 Flat-footed / 13 Touch)
Current HP: 24 / 24 remaining
Current Weapon in Hand: none
Conditions in effect: none
Spells (0-level, DC 13, at will) Detect Magic, Light, Mage Hand, Mending, Prestidigitation, Read magic;
(1st level, DC 15, 4 or 4 spell slots) Cure Light Wounds, Grease, Silent Image, Vanish
Bardic Performance: 11 of 11 rounds per day remaining
|
-----------------------------------------------
I walk into the tavern and look around and then kinda snarl, I take my scythe and adjust it from my back to make sure that it is seen and then head to the barkeep.
Keep, I am here to find someone, they are expecting me. name is Makito. if they have been here or are here please point them out to me.
sits down at the bar and looks around really quick
Oh, and I will take bacon and eggs over easy and don't break the yolk. toasted bread with a smidge of butter and a pot of coffee with some cream.... and a bag full of garlic
@Inerri
You see a lot of hustle and bustle, and many more uniforms then normal. There does seem to be a lot more foreigners in the street then normal, but then again, this is the largest port in the FCC, and it's your first time here.
@Shosuro
A fealin sits at your table, "About time, I was beginning to wander if you would be here on time." He laughs, with a little bit of relief, "I'm glad I don't have to miss anything. The captain said to you might not make till this morning and had me wait for you. My name is Jippik by the way. Hurry up, we have 30 minutes and it will take 20 just to get in and seated, it's a large conference."
Some 30 minutes later,
You arrive, and when you come in you each receive a note, "afterwards go the sign marked Team Draco."
Everyone has made their way into the Forest Room, and a silence falls as a fealin in the uniform of the FCC Marines steps up to the podium.
"For those of you who don't know me, I am General Kitrar of the FCC Marine's Military Intelligence.
Some of you have heard the rumors of Dustfall. It is true that Dustfall has gone silent. We do know however that contact was made with an underground people, and that the those people were at war with others in the underground. And following a few rcent rockslides, we have had many of our scouts report strange sightings and a few have gone missing. Whatever this threat is, it is in the badlands and so we want all the towns and areas close to the border of the badlands to make preperations, set watches, and assist the many scouts we will be sending out.
We have a mission ready to launch that will soon discover the what exactly happened at dustfall and if possible make further contact with the original nation we made contact with to learn about our new enemy, and possibly forge an alliance against this threat. If it these new creatures can take out a settlement that knew about potential enemies, quick enough that not even a warning could be sent, then this is certainly an enemy to take seriously. As of now the radio band segments Delta and Gamma are for security use only, and every town is to make hourly status reports to its neighbors as per the Gilman protocols.
There will be information packets handed out as you leave. I will not be taking any questions at this time. Thank you, and be well."
As you all get up and look around you see six signs each with a different team name. You make your way to the Team Draco sign, which gets increasingly easier as it seems most of the occupants are actually leaving the room. Eventually only a handfull are gathered around each sign.
A fealin named Gavin, a Major, is seated next to the sign. When you all have arrived, "I believe the General spoke everything we know, except that our team is the one assigned to investigate Dustfall. The good news is we get to take a flying destroyer, so it should be a rather short trip. The destroyer, Marion, is docked at Slip Ryker, it's one of the southern air docks. I will meet you there in two hours, we may need to check out the tunnels so make sure you have what you need." If there are no questions, he will leave. Otherwise, ask away.
Anumil curteously takes his leave of his companions before returning to his rooms. Checking the hair he left in the doorjamb, he drew his sword, unlocked his door and entered. He looked around and made sure no one was lurking. Sheathing his sword, he picked up the note he had overlooked before.
The briefing time. How had he missed it before?
The next morning, he goes down to breakfast with his new comrades before attending the briefing.
At the Team Draco sign, he bows respectfully and asks; "Are there any items of equipment we need to secure before we leave sir?"
The Major responds, "Anything you must have will be avaible on the destroyer. I was informing you in case you wanted to pick up a few additional things that you might like to have above and beyond the neccesities, or if you think you can afford it, perhaps getting equipment above the generic stuff we get for free."
Inerri listened to the speech with great interest and as it broke up she knew that the news would travel like wildfire so she hopped that something would be done quickly to quell any fear or panic.
She is glade to see that the others have also arrived at the flag. She gives a salute to the Major and a nod to the others. Those that did not catch her before can see that Inerri is an officer in the FCC Military. Her dress uniform suits the Fealin woman well.
"Thank you, Sir." The woman salutes again.
Looking to her fellows on the mission, "I was thinking of some personal climbing gear and perhaps more rope might be in order. Unless someone is into carrying a lot of that military grade rope?"
With a smile she adds, "And I need to get out of this uniform."
Current AC: 18 (15 Flat-footed / 13 Touch)
Current HP: 24 / 24 remaining
Current Weapon in Hand: none
Conditions in effect: none
Spells (0-level, DC 13, at will) Detect Magic, Light, Mage Hand, Mending, Prestidigitation, Read magic;
(1st level, DC 15, 4 or 4 spell slots) Cure Light Wounds, Grease, Silent Image, Vanish
Bardic Performance: 11 of 11 rounds per day remaining
The ship is large enough for about 30 medium people max. It does have some ballistas but you don't know the exact armaments. It has sails plus two minor engines, that while usable are often slower then the winds at high altitudes. Like most military airships it keeps double the ballast so some can be dropped for a quick non-magical rise in altitude, or to crush something below.
Having no other questions, Anumil will stay to hear the answers to any other questions his team has, then go back to his room to gather his stuff and go meet the Destroyer at Slip Ryker.
Having remained silent this long, Malazzesh responds to the request with, "Climbing equipment. I endure the cold, but others may not be so lucky. We must protect them with clothing."
You can find some climbing gear and rope in the market,
Rope, twell (50') 85gp, 4 lbs, 6hp, burst DC 30, hardness 3, not really hard but it has the DR
Masterwork Climber's kit: +3 on climb checks, 120gp, 5 lbs
For those wondering about modern weapons,
Twell is a light artificial material like spider silk mixed, or weaved, with carbon fiber, many high end items are made with it. It can be flexible or hard, though the latter form is more difficult to produce. It has a dark grey color with a slight reddish tint.
Hard form twell can be used for most weapons and armors save for edged weapons. It is unsuitable for most metal weapons (S and/or P types) as it doesn't hold an edge very well and sharp edges tend to be weak points for items made from twell. Weapons that are wood, with a metal or stone tip, like spears, can be made from twell but don't gain the damage bonus (unless making a hilt attack, which is treated as a quarterstaff atk for dmg and is bludgeoning). Maces can be made from twell and gain the dmg bonus. A morningstar, or similar, can't gain the dmg bonus as the spikes must be metal.
Twell items are always masterwork as hard form twell is difficult to make.
Hard form twell has a hardness of 9 and 36 HP per inch.
Soft form twell has a hardness of 3 and 12 HP per inch
Twell of either form, is 1 lb lighter for every 5 lbs of the original weight, I.E. a light wooden shield is 3 lbs instead of 5. (Or for those who love math, 4/5ths as heavy as the original.)
Melee bludgeoning items, whose twell parts would be the striking surface, gain 1 additional point of dmg dealt. This applies to hard form twell only. I.E. A quarterstaff or mace would gain this, but not a spear or bow.
Any armor can be made from twell, including leather and padded. Armor counts as one step lighter, ASF % is reduced by 5%, Max Dex is increased by 1, and ACP is reduced by 2. Leather and padded armors are soft form twell, all normally wooden or metal items are made from hard form twell.
Soft form twell, is an additional 15 gp for every lb of the original weight.
Hard form twell is an additional 25 gp for every lb of the original weight.
Soft form twell can be used for rope weapons, the tips if bludgeoning, can also be made form twell and gain the +1 dmg.
Compound bows,
Take a composite bow (either the shortbow or the longbow). Then increase the damage die by one step, increase the range by 20', double the weight, and triple the cost. Increase crit range by 1. Reduce the number of attacks per round by 1, minimum 1.
Inerri does a little quick shopping, and clothes changing, with Malazzesh and picks up another rope and is off to meet everyone at the airship.
Approaching Slip Ryker she looks over the Marion, admiring airship before approaching/ Looking to the Monitor she comments, "Not a bad little ship, would you not say?"
She looks about for the others who are to meet them at the slip.
Current AC: 18 (15 Flat-footed / 13 Touch)
Current HP: 24 / 24 remaining
Current Weapon in Hand: none
Conditions in effect: none
Spells (0-level, DC 13, at will) Detect Magic, Light, Mage Hand, Mending, Prestidigitation, Read magic;
(1st level, DC 15, 4 or 4 spell slots) Cure Light Wounds, Grease, Silent Image, Vanish
Bardic Performance: 11 of 11 rounds per day remaining
The Marion floats between two arms of the massive 90' airdock tower. It has been painted sky blue, and appears to be in good condition. The ship is about 50' long, 15' wide and 25' tall, not including it's masts, which include a 20' foremast pointing straight out front, and a 25' extendable mast on either side, currently folded up, and a main mast 30' above and below. The lower mast an anchor and a lightning anchor hanging from it.
You can see 6 hatches on either side of the ship, 4 of them presumably for armaments and arranged for full firing arcs. The ship has an overall slimness to it, as though to slice through the air with ease. Currently two wide gangplanks are extended to the dock.
Going inside the tower, you can see that the tower has an inner ring, in the outer ring there are are no floors until the roof, but there are six huge elevators constantly being loaded or unloaded with cargo, and it seems inside the inner ring actually has a couple floors with storage spaces for cargo until it's ready to be loaded up or shipped out to the warehouse district.
In the outer ring are some counters and checkpoints for passangers behind which are some smaller passenger elevators and stairs going up. You all are allowed through as you are already on the allowed list and are directed to rooftop lounge for slips Ryker and Sierra.
Malazzesh nods to Inerri. "It is good for our purposes."
He looks around, and adds, "I am prepared for travel. Are you?"