Word of mouth. Bulletin Birds. A vivid dream. However you heard about it, you've received a message about a Certain Someone looking for Certain People with Certain Skills, and this is what has drawn you all to the port city of Harmuth. There's no time limit, however, so you're free to do as you please before you visit the tavern the message referred to. If you haven't changed your mind along the often-bumpy road to get there.
The city is old; denizens like to boast that most of the city completely survived the fall of the 8th World. You're not sure if you believe it, but who are you going to challenge on that? Harmuth clearly hasn't seen new construction since well before you were born. Hells, maybe before your grandparents were born.
As you enter the city, a few of the older folk raise their eyebrows at you. If you pay their mutters any mind, you hear things like "another one of those explorers mucking up our streets" or "probably dragging those cursed machines around with 'em". It's clear, however, that most of the younger city dwellers you pass couldn't give two shins about you being there. You're just another face among many faces.
The salt-scented air is crisp, and twilight approaches.
Upon entry into Harmuth, Anson appears more or less oblivious to any suspicious glares directed his way. He appears human, albeit some of his clothing and equipment has a certain... cursed machiney look to it. He systematically explores the town, starting at the edges and moving in concentric circles as he gets closer to the tavern.
Harmuth isn't large, and it doesn't take you long to get your bearings there. A few different districts that don't vary much from one another, but do become less worn down as you move up the hill towards the center of the town. Here, the houses have all the best views of the harbor and port traffic. Here, the people you pass mutter less but stare more.
The tavern stands alone. An oddly clean and beautiful white building with no windows, nestled in its own lush park, with trees surrounding all sides. A digital sign displays the name of the tavern above the front doors, but you can't read it. The words blur and flicker as though you're trying to read something within a dream.
One very large man with close cropped hair and a nasty scar on his face stands by the doors, watching you as you approach. They're always the same type of man hired to stand by doors, aren't they?
You know the passphrase that'll get you in the door, after deciphering it from the message you received that brought you here. When you tell him that "the hontri hunt in pairs", he nods and opens the door for you.
You were instructed to look for a man in the shadows. The entire tavern is absolutely drenched in them, so almost everyone in the tavern is ‘in the shadows’. As you make your way past full tables, you make awkward eye contact with more than a few patrons. Just as you’re about to turn around and go back the way you came, you catch the gaze of a man sitting by himself in a large corner booth. And as he is literally cloaked in shadows, all you can see are his eyes, and those are glowing a vibrant green.
The booth has room enough for ten people, easily. He’s the furthest away from either entrance to the seats, and all that sits in front of him is a tall glass full of something opaque, something that steams. He takes a long drink, but when he sets the glass down, it’s filled with the same amount of liquid as before he picked it up. He waves when you catch his eyes.
Perhaps there are other ways to put out fires in this establishment.
Mr. Glowing Green Eyes raises his glass to you as you approach the table. Then he leans forward, squinting so hard that you nearly lose sight of his eyes entirely.
"You're alive, and that's a good a start as any. What are you called?"
the more of a pleasant sort of tingle you feel in your finger tips.
"Yes, you're just the type I was looking for."
He didn't speak aloud, but you understood it just the same. You understood it the way, sometimes, you understand machines as they're running. He says something else you don't catch, but when he says it, for a brief instant, you're connected to something vast, something incomprehensible. It's a datanet, a web of information spanning ages, and...
You're back in the tavern and Zi regards you with a smile.
"Care for a drink?"
Stepping off of the gangplank in Harmuth's harbor, a small sigh of relief slips past Nalo's lips as she stands on solid ground. Her initial path would have taken her directly to the tavern, but her dark eyes dart around amazed at the architecture, the stalls, the people and she quickly finds something to pause to look at, something else to pull her from the easy path.
If she notices the mutters, she must attribute it to her oddly colored skin but her smile when she stops to look at a food booth with brightly colored fruit is just the right touch of friendly.
Eventually she'll make it to the tavern, maybe a shin or two lighter, but it will be a meandering journey.
At some point the bartender would be between concoctions, then she would look around at the patrons, looking for a man in the shadows, a quick smile in response to his wave before moving to the table and sliding into a seat, giving both men space.
While Nalo doesn't move noticeably once she sit, there is a feel of movement - a quickening in the air around her. Her eyes are bright, eager, "Hello. I'm Nalo. Happy to make your acquaintance."
"Anson Arkadius. I'm here for the job as well."
In the tavern, patrons and bartender alike refuse to acknowledge your presence, dressed as you are. No one is rude, either. The Shadowy Man, however, looks pleased at how forthright you are. Well, you think he looks pleased; all you can see are his eyes, after all, and they squint as though he's smiling.
"The pleasure is all mine, Nalo! Call me Zi." He holds out his hand as though inviting you to dance.
but that looks like it survived the journey in a non-spoiled condition -
either hardy or stands up to drying. (Like ginger root.) Another quick smile and a "Thank you" to the merchant as she walks away closely examining her prize before eventually tucking it into an outer pocket on her heavy bag.
Once it doesn't seem rude, Nalo tries to look at the unusual crossbow without it being obvious, but she just isn't that sneaky.
"I was so hoping to find someone like you, Lady Jack." He turns to you and winks. "Not enough curiosity left in the world, and there's so much to be curious about."
And then you're back in the tavern, hand tingling slightly with a familiar electricity.
A quick blink and shake of her head when Zi speaks, "I am?"
A pause, "I'd really like to see the bartender make the drink with those seven layers again."
Less of a pause, "What is the job?"
"Or do you want to wait until you have more applicants?"
Her eyes dart back and forth between Zi and Anson, almost physically holding back a barrage of more questions as her hands flex in to a loose fist.
Nalo might notice that, while a drink sits in front of him, it's quite clearly untouched.
Her head cocks to the side, and very quietly, pitched to only reach Anson, "Did your drink come out wrong?"
Panamax walks into town. His robes are ankle length, and mostly white (at the bottom, dust edges them grey). Distinctly not made for fast movement.
At first glance, his features are female (the flush in his cheeks may be makeup), at second glance, male -- at third glance ... who cares, it's hot, let's go get a drink.
His eyes are very blue.
Panamax is looking for the aftermath of trouble. He doesn't want the sun to go down without healing someone today. For luck? For practice? To remind himself that he can do it?
Panamax comes through and door and gawks as his eyes adjust to being indoors. He threads his way through the tables, very obviously looking for something. Or someone.
When he finally sees the booth with the shadow at the center, he walks over and sits down. "Hello," he says.
Zi shifts his eyes towards the tavern door. "I believe we have a few more travelers interested in what I have to offer. But I also don't think it hurts to tell you the basics, in case you decide you're not interested in hearing the rest of the details." He leans back, resting his arms along the back of the bench seating.
"I would be sending you out to Kordech to fetch something of importance for me."
He drops an item on the table and presses the only visible button. After a very pleasant chiming noise, for a moment, neither of you can hear anything. No other patrons, not the people next to you, not even your own breathing or heartbeats. After a few seconds of this heavy silence, the veil lifts, although you know it hasn't lifted far.
"For me, but more importantly, for Queen Armalu."
It turns out to be a man with a knife in his belly. It's, unfortunately, a very common sight in dock-side alleys. He looks to you, a string of drool running from the corner of his mouth. He's clutching the knife, and seems to understand that pulling it from himself might mean his certain death.
When Panamax arrives at the table, he passes through an invisible wall that disorients him when his hearing disappears. It only lasts a moment; he finds a seat without issue and might notice that he can no longer hear the bustle of the tavern outside of the table.
"Greetings, my blue eyed friend! What can I and your potential new compatriots call you?" He holds out a hand to shake after gesturing to the two other people at his table.
Sherine walks into town with a smile on her face. She is dressed in bright colors with rings on every finger.
She seems to ignore the people, and instead greets every building as if it were an old friend. Eventually ending up at the Tavern, she does not enter. She stands outside, stroking the wall of the tavern sensuously, whispering small talk to it.
Nope, just mildly offended. You're too busy whispering sweet nothings to the tavern to notice anything else.
But then, the building whispers back.
"Sherine. You flatter me, but I'd love to talk to you inside, when you get a moment."
The machine is simple, and you have definitely seen a few like it in your past. It's a numenera with just one function; the button is depressed, dropping a sphere that blocks sound that extends roughly 10 feet away from where the device is located. No one outside the sphere can hear what goes on inside it, and vice versa.
There's a 50/50 chance that this numenera can be carried, which moves the sphere of silence with it, or that it'll hurt anyone trying to move it while it's active.
"oh" Nalo looks at Anson's poor abandoned drink a little sadly, when her own multilayer concoction arrives she users the straw to test the density of the layers, apparently trying to make stable spikes of color pass through some of the other layers.
Eventually Sherine pulls back from the tavern. She gives the wall a parting pat, then goes inside.
Walking inside, Sherine blinks at the sudden change from bright daylight. After her eyes adjust she starts wandering around, looking for the stranger from her vision.
Finally seeing the Man In The Shadows, she walks over and takes a seat.
You'll be happy to note that the drink cooperates with you. The colors are layered and refuse to mix with each other. It allows you to create not only spikes, but interesting swirls within it.
Once you've all been introduced to Zi, he sits back and toasts his impossible drink to you all.
"I want to thank you all for coming. As I began explaining just minutes ago to Anson and Nalo, I have a request directly from the Queen of Navarene herself. And as some of you might guess, the request is sensitive in nature." He leans back once more. "I'll be happy to answer most questions!"
"What type of thing would we be fetching?" Looking around the table at the thin, lithe, reedy and slight frames.
"Is it free to be picked up or guarded?"
"How much do we not want to be noticed?"
Nalo stutters to a stop, barely stemming the machine barrage of questions that are coming to mind.
Zi also looks around the table at all of the reedy and slight frames, and chuckles. "You'll be fetching a numenera, one of great worth to the Queen. I believe this group could handle it. However..." He closes his eyes, and a few moments later, two more people, a woman and a man, approach the table and find seats around it. It's not crowded quite yet, but it's definitely getting close.
The woman would best be described as 'compact'. Short and well muscled, with two swords strapped to her hips. She shifts awkwardly to try and accommodate them under the table. She's wearing armor but would easily be lost in a crowd. There's something about her that's a little unsettling, and the smile that does appear on her lips disappears quickly.
Her companion, on the other hand, is the living definition of 'flamboyant'. He's wearing a many-pocketed vest of rich purple, loose fitting pants of a similar color, and a hat with a phosphorescent feather that glitters in the dim light of the tavern. His smile could probably power several electronics at once. He gives a direct and approving moment of eye contact to everyone at the table.
"I've brought two acquaintances of mine to the tavern, as both have agreed to join anyone who agrees to help me. Tavene works locally as a body guard, and is extremely adept at her job. She's worked for me several times personally. Jarris has a contact down in Kordech who might be able to help you all locate the numenera, should you be so inclined." He turns his attention back to Nalo. "To answer your other questions, Lady Jack, the item is guarded and how much you'd like to be noticed is entirely up to you. My suggestion would be that you attempt to retrieve it with as little damage or commotion as possible."
Panamax crouches down next to the man.
"This is gonna hurt," he says. "Don't move." Panamax puts his hand on the bridge of the man's nose and concentrates.
"Mind if I....?"
Panamax pulls out the knife and gives the man another jolt of healing energy .
"Huh," he says when the knife wound fails to spontaneously close.
Third time's the charm.
Panamax shakes his head. "You're gonna want to bind that."
"Panamax," Panamax returns the shadowy figure's handshake.
"Neat trick with the noise and the overhearing."
Panamax puts his hand in the air. "And in return for this, we receive?"
Panamax lowers his hand.
The guy feebly thanks you, but you distinctly hear a question mark on the end of it. "Robbing honest men... of all... my own knife..." he murmurs, head lolling slightly.
Even though it didn't quite finish the job of healing him up to what passes for his full health (you smell a strong scent of cheap liquor, and notice a few of his teeth are missing, and suspect maybe he hasn't seen full health in a long time), he's not about to die in an alley.
The battlefield is at once recognizable and completely foreign to you. Almost everyone on the field is either dead or severely injured, and you get a sense that these combatants never actually faced one another. There are creatures you don't recognize, creatures you do, uniforms you've seen in waking life, and uniforms so strange you couldn't begin to guess at what nation they may have come from.
Zi is the only other person standing in the field. "Not many of your kind left. Any kid off the street can pay a few shins for a numenera that heals or cures, but a Nano with the Touch?" He shakes his head. "Truly a lost art. Welcome aboard, Panamax."
And then you're back, and the smell of far away flowers still linger in your nostrils.
"When I've got this item safely in hand, you'll each get to choose a numenera from my personal collection." He leans forward and lowers his voice. "It's a very extensive collection. I may even have an Artifact or two I'd be willing to reward the group with, should you all decide to forgo individual rewards. Or, should you decline those offers, the Queen would give you something to the tune of 75 shins."
Nalo's dark eyes lighten at the thought of browsing through a extensive collection of numenera, but pushed that aside to think on the planning, "Just what is this numenera - at least how will we id it to know we've laid hands on the correct thing?"
She finally lets go of the straw that she was using to create pink swirls in the green layer, "Are those guarding it going to be willing to give it to us, or will they object?"
Unsaid, 'Just how much trouble will we be in when we do this.'
Anson nudges his drink closer to the edge of the table. "I'm a collector, not a thief."
Panamax helps him stumble to the edge of the alley. "No need to thank me."
He wipes the man's knife on the man's clothing and sets it down on the cobbles.
He turns his back to look for this tavern.
Panamax smiles. "What I am is different from what I do. What do you collect?"
"Digital blood. Silicon bones. Sometimes I'll conjure up a ghost in the machine. Whatever remains of the corpses of the old worlds." Anson shifts in his seat, the light flickering off his goggles.
"I would imagine there is a lot of that around to collect. Do you specialize?"
Panamax leans toward Anson, then leans away. Toward, away. Toward, away. Turns to Sherine.
"The light flickers off his goggles if you move just right."
Sherine starts mimicking Panamax's movements.
"Yes. I see." She frowns a moment in thought. "Or is it the goggles that flicker off the light?"
Not taking her eyes off of Anson's googles, Sherine says to Zi, "Where is this numenera? Do we get a map?"
Panamax tilts his head and leans toward and away again, trying to see if the light is flickering off the goggles or the goggles flickering off the light.
Zi takes another drink. "These are all good questions. The item that's being guarded is a very powerful numenera used for healing. Currently, the fluid collected from this device is being sold to the highest bidder, not necessarily to those in need." He taps his fingers on the table, and they make no noise when they strike the surface.
"It's true that this would be theft. However, I'd like to present this as a theft for a higher good. The Queen would use this device for her ah... situation, but she would also use the device for her people who found themselves to be in need, regardless of their ability to drop a full bag of shins on the palace steps."
He turns his attention to Sherine. "There is no map to give you. However, I will give you a device that will guide you to the location of the numenera when you're within range of it. Before I give you more details, I need to make sure you're all on board with this. If you aren't, no harm done. The drinks are paid for."
Jarris brushes the feather of his hat backwards, creating a very pleasant rippling effect in the phosphorescence.
"I've been to Kordech several times, and although it reeks of cattle dung and slaughterhouses, I'd be happy to guide you through Navarene to see you safely there and back again. I could be your living map!" He says this last bit directly to Sherine with a very sincere smile.
Tavene rolls her eyes so hard it's almost audible. "As long as the rest of you are okay with a man who will disappear at the first sign of trouble."
Jarris looks mildly offended, but then the megawatt smile returns. "Or a woman who will disappear at the first sign of an engaging conversation."
Sherine tilts her head, seemingly listening to something faint in the distance. She smiles.
"Well, my friends told me I should come hear your offer and implied that I should take it. And they've rarely steered me wrong in the past." She take a long drink from her glass. "So I'm in," she grins.
Nalo considers, "Provided the numenera is held by independent contractors and not the government of Draolis, I'm in."
"Stealing for the greater good is one thing, being wanted as a fugitive by a whole country seems like it would limit future exploration." Her shoulders shift back, her right hand sliding off the table to drum silently on her thigh.
Anson offers a curt nod. Nothing else.
Nalo considers, "Provided the numenera is held by independent contractors and not the government of Draolis, I'm in."
"Stealing for the greater good is one thing, being wanted as a fugitive by a whole country seems like it would limit future exploration." Her shoulders shift back, her right hand sliding off the table to drum silently on her thigh.
Zi raises his glass. "Well said! And I would never wish to rob you of the opportunity to explore. The numenera is held hostage by the rich. The government of Draolis would miss only the shins these potions generated, but Draolis and Navarene have a way of keeping one another in check. They lose this object, Navarene loses something in return."