Ah, fancy meeting you here, Abel. Your traveling with the lady Seraphina I see. Does that mean you were also in interview talks with the Ainsworth family? How did that go if I may pry?
A sharp-dressed man in a vibrantly blue hat addresses the party.
Greetings all, it's a pleasure to meet you. Please call me Kal.
Fate has seen that we meet once again my friend. The interview went rather well, i suspect i may have found what I was seeking. Now what are you doing here?
Lanliss turns to Abel.
"Wait... you know this guy?"
"He was at the interview," Serephina replied, watching him. She had no idea what he was doing here, except it was unlikely Bishop had sent him. "How are you?"
I know many people and many things
Youngsters? Gwynn said indignantly at Azrael. I'm sixty-three years old. How old are you, human?
She takes a quick look at Kal, taking notes on everything from fashion sense, facial-structure, and finally, any clues that he might be giving off.
In order? I went to the Ainsworth Estate earlier in an unfortunately vain attempt to meet with the lady Morganna. Perhaps later today, but at the moment I have errands to run.
I apologize that I haven't gotten the chance to know your name my friend, but yes. Abel and I shared an afternoon tea when he first came to our wonderful city.
I am doing well Miss Seraphina. I must apologize to you as well, I certainly hope my intrusion did not impede your chances? Bishop means well I assure you, but my courting of his mistress does seem to put him somewhat on edge.
Ha, you need to be careful bringing age up with women dear soldier. I must confess I am older than I appear as well In truth I am 30. So, are we off on a field exercise? I can't imagine lady Morganna being satisfied with mere paperwork.
Gwynn notices the man who calls himself Kal is clearly putting his best foot forward. Not just in his manner of dress-the embroidered tailcoat and old-fashioned undershirt that seems to have been hand spun completed by the mentioned wide-brimmed hat-but also in his speech. Kal is notably letting the others in the conversation take the lead to be cordial.
Also he's lying about his age.
I feel bad for Bishop honestly, poor man seems to be sick. Alas if we are speaking of ages i am 65. But anyway yes we are off to investigate some factory, hopefully the issues can be solved without bloodshed
Yes, he's not been well since the last Festival. I can only hope fortune shine's upon him soon.
No problem, Azrael." Gwynn said, then laughed a bit. In fact, I'm pretty certain you might be the youngest amongst us. The rest of us are either extraplanar or an elf.
Thirty, eh? There's something in your eyes, Kal, that makes you seem much more mature and experienced than that. Surely you have a lot of experience beyond our typical thrity-year-old."
While not looking for an outright confession, she thought she might be able to coax out a clue of something if she was flattering enough.
She extended her hand. Gwynn Cleary, sir. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.
Kal very briefly appears taken aback at Gwynn's questioning before regaining his composure, taking her hand and bowing.
The pleasure is mine. I may be rounding down a tad in my years. Maturity has little to do with age if I've learned anything from my elder brother. The dull red tram appear around the corner at this point, and as Kal rises, so too do the other few people at the stop.
I see our "carriage" is here. Though, a factory is a curious destination, I shan't pry. I have a marketplace destination of my own.
Something I know all too well. Gwynn said. How else do we explain gnomes?
Carriage? Can't hope too much that it's going to be 1st class, can I?
"Well, good luck to you Kal. " Lanliss shakes his head. He grins: "65, huh?,I remember when I was that young. Strange thing is, I was that young a few years back." Lanliss smiles and moves to board the tram.
Now, now, let's not be so hasty, shouldn't we be letting Azrael aboard first? They do say women and children first, after all. She said. Not to be rude, but how old are you, Lanliss. I can't really tell with Elves. Or outsiders, for that matter.
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"You're right Gwynn, come along little Azrael." Lanliss grins and winks. "To answer your question, I'm 120 years old. Mind you, time flies by when you're this old, so it seems like a few years have gone by since I was 65."
"Well, at least you're keeping life exciting." Shrugging, Serephina boarded the vehicle. "Let's at least get on before it leaves."
A few of the other prospective passengers shuffle by the group as soon as the doors begin to open. One of them even excuses himself. The tram ride itself is quite peaceful. Though the noise of the tram is too loud to hear anything, a few sights can be glimpsed on the way to the market.
Eventually, the tram makes its approach to the marketplace. Basic knowledge of the tram schedule indicates that there are no stops directly to the industrial district.
It appears that many shops are already getting set up for the Festival of the Damned, there are half-finished market stalls placed here and there, and there are a high number of guards stationed.
what are we waiting for? Lets go!
Markey, eh? Gwynn asked. What do you suppose they have there? She hummed. Books? Records? I could use a coffee. She said, her eyes wandering further with every item on the list.
Abel follows quietly whistling a happy tune.
"Yes, let's save the surprises on our end for the people in the factory." Serephina followed along. Hopefully, they would be a suitably unpleasant surprise to the gang that had moved in.
Kal bids each of you goodbye, separating on his own once the tram stopped. The group proceeds through the market, following their directions closely and ignoring the signs, the displays meant to tantalize, and the paperboy on the corner shouting "extree, extree" etc... You've seen movies about olden times.
Heading west, the group notices the faint, yet growing smell of factories and smoke. Closer still, the streets seem to narrow as each of you in turn begin to feel as though the identical buildings are simply repeating themselves. Not a directory to be found, it would seem. Apparently, some cunning would be needed to navigate the twisting city streets while avoiding some of the easier to find roads.
Survival checks everybody.
Serephina glanced around. "Ok, let's see, we go..."
Does 'to the letter' have any place for coffee? Gwynn hummed.
I mean, those of you familiar with the city and it's layout are able to quite readily steer clear of trouble, finding a small coffee shop tucked away en route as well, in spite of the improbable odds. Which you may stop at if you so choose.
The sign to the factory you're searching for is in fact covered with graffiti. Where once it read "Lockiron CO. Proud Purveyors of Mechanical Parts and Tools" now shows as "Lickiron COAWKS. Proud Purveyors of Mechanical Parts and Tools" under the various paint additions.
Their grammar is hideous.
A short walk of roughly 100 feet follows, approaching the front entrance of the building. The sign and partially overgrown vegetation seem to be preventing you from being seen by the
3 lookouts you spot in front of the door.
Wat do?
Now with a cup of coffee in hand, Gwynn sizes up the lookouts from a distance and tries to think up a plan.
"If only we had that kind of style and wit..." Serephina deadpanned. "So, are we going to try the diplomatic route and ask nicely first for them to get off the property, the sneak in and break there things and people until they leave approach or the smash in the front door and all the teeth we can find tactic?"
"I don't know... I'd go for one of the first two options, though"
I would prefer we try diplomacy before resorting to violence Abel chimes in
Should I go and talk to them? I can charm them with a spell if words fail me.
We can both approach, it would be dangerous to go alone. I can assist with convincing them to leave as well, there should be no immediate need for magic quite yet
I'm ready if you are. Last time I got in a fight, I was drunk. It'd be interesting to see if I'm actually good.
She walks up to the guard, putting a smile on her face and a bit of swing into her hips.
Ello, gents. She said, widening her smile. Glad you're keeping up the fort 'round here. I'll be sure to tell the higher-ups about the work your doing. Speaking of which, they said you'd give me and my compatriots the tour of the proceedings. She said.
Lanliss turns to his companions "well, she's a brave one"
Lanliss walks the 100 ft to Gwynn.
As Gwynn finishes speaking, the lies pouring from her tongue expertly, Lanliss, and any others who decide to walk up as well see the guards start talking to each other.
"Oi. Boss tell you anythin' about inspectin' folks from the ol' HQ?" Asks the present human, pale skin showing against the soot on his face. The halfling slouching against the wall answers with a bit of contempt.
"Naw. Git don't tell me nuthin'. Don't tell none of us nuthin'. 'E wants to send one a his fancy talkin' dancers 'ere, fine. You guys keep 'ere, I'll cart 'er 'n the others around. Hope Boron ain't in one a his moods. An' Jak ain't visitin'... guys creepy."
He ushers the group inside of the building. The other slightly larger human opens the door for everyone.
"Cheers boys, won't be but a minute." Serephina grinned and headed inside.
Gwynn smiles and nods at the rest of the party, it was obvious what that look meant.
Bet ya thought that wasn't going to work.
I have great expectations of your work, here. I trust you've not let us down.
Lanliss nods thanks to the men and says:
thank you gentlemen
Impressive says following hands folded behind him
When your guide walks into the building, a couple of workers stop to eye the new arrivals.
Alright, lads ‘n lasses, we got uhselves a visit from the ol’ down below. E’erybody watch your hands.
And go back to work without a word.
The inside of the building is relatively open. Light pours in through the numerous windows lining the walls, shining against the dust kicked around in the rafters. Anything that isn’t a hard floor surface is either a machine loudly churning, or one of two sets of staircases leading to the second floor rafters. Most surfaces are a dull brown or gray. Splashes of color exist in small amounts, most of which being brightly colored levers, or other objects within the machinery itself.
The disgruntled sounding halfling walks the group about the ground floor, veering right of the machinery, chugging and whirring.
That warnin’ goes to you too. Some a these machines ‘r a lil unsafe. I’m lucky today, finally got pulled off a tha line fer once.