Abel's looking around taking careful mental notes of the entrance's ,exits, anything in case a fight breaks out.
Let's see some rolls then.
The Halfling continues.
So, here's where we make all a them little bit's to motors and the like. You know there's parts called Endbells?
He skips speaking about the steel gray and rather glossy walking automaton the group passes.
The unit has multiple exposed gears and what looks like a bronze top hat on.
In order of questioning: It looks like the factory was used to manufacture both things and stuff, you can at least tell that this is the original equipment in the building, though. The walker seems to have only oatmeal raisin unfortunately. Others may roll as well if they have Know: Engineering.
I'd need a Perception check to determine other information about what is present though.
interesting, interesting
Very well done, boys. Very well done. I'm glad to see that you're keeping things well-maintained.
The Halfling speaks to a man standing by an office in the back.
Oi. Boron busy? We got a bunch a blokes from Downtown 'ere to check up on ar progress?
The half-orc man seems silent and slow to answer.
...didn't tell us about visitors. There a reason the one on the cloak's being so quiet?
Gwynn hastily steps up to the half-orc. Pleasure to make your acquaintance, mister. Aye, he's my bodyguard. A lass has got to defend herself in an age like today, especially around these streets. Doesn't hurt he's easy on the eyes.
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Lanliss pushes Gwynn away.
"she's lying, the bodyguard is for me. I'm quite fragile, you know."
Lanliss flashes a smile
The stern, stout man looks over the new arrivals momentarily, pushing each other around in a way that can only be described as “professional.”
Don’t piss off Boss Boron. He’s a busy man, an’ related to Graymand. Leaving for a patrol.
He passes through the group on his way out.
The halflings eyes follow the half-orc nervously on his way by.
Eh, ha, I, uh, sorry ‘bout ‘im. Folks didn’t teach im manners ay? Less see da boss.
Assuming the party proceeds inside the small office, you simultaneously smell cigar smoke, hear coughing from the man bent over the table, and see once white, now yellowed walls. The sensory assault of success.
The man wheels around in his chair, looking at the assembled folks at the doorway.
Oi, boss! Mama Graymand sent some folks to check on our project. The halfling yells from behind the group, clearly out of sight of Boron.
An' what makes 'er think anythings gonna be diffren' today?! It'll be ready when it's good an' godsdamn ready! Get outta my office, all a ya! Yer blockin' the air!
Lanliss takes a quick look to see what Boron was doing
Gwynn bumps her elbow to Azrael and whispers to him.
Who's mama Graymand? Didn't the shorty ust say their leader was of the male gender?
What are you up to, and what is in that folder?
Quite an oddity, did you not say that your boss was a man? Abel speaks to the halfling
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Gwynn bumps her elbow to Azrael and whispers to him.
Who's mama Graymand? Didn't the shorty ust say their leader was of the male gender?
Azrael whispers back "You sure? I didn't find it strange... now that you say it I belie-..." and then Abel says it out loud.
"By the Old Lord... This isn't good he thinks as he stares dumbfound at Abel and prepares to jump into action if their cover has been blown.
Covers blown..... Dangit Abel!
Ready action to draw shotgun
Serephina looked at the others. "Y'know, we really do not hire the smartest people. Forgive there confusion - it took me twenty minutes to get them put there boots on the right feet this morning. You know what that's like, right?" Not an especially skilled liar, Serephina sometimes pulled it off due to a certain natural charisma that often made people want to believe a small, barefooted pretty girl. Hopefully it was enough this time.
Aye, the bodyguard's just been informed of the rudimentaries of the job, nothing of the bigger scale. Not his fault, just ours. Why don't you go informin' 'im?
She said, tapping her fist gently on Abel's shoulder, with a gentle smile.
Whaddaya sayin'!? Jyp ya little weasel, you tryin' ta get yer damn friends in here? You know damn well no-one's allowed here!
N-no, sir! I-I'd never do that again! They were jus' sent by Boss O'sullivan. The halfling stands up straight, stepping back a bit at the sight of his boss pushing through the new folks.
So, what?! Ya thought imposin' tha good name a my Ma would be a good idea? Boron roars as Jyp meekly responds with
I jus' uh, really didn' want ya ta yell at me fer interruptin' ya again...
Get outta here!
The small thing does so.
Boron sighs deeply before addressing the party.
Sorry 'bout 'im. My names Boron. So, ya all work for O'Sullivan then? Whaddya think of 'im? He begins to usher the group towards a door shut just past the small corner office you've been in front of.
You all really must learn to relax, apologies my companions here are a bit nervous we have heard you can be rather intimidating. It is a pleasure to meet you Sir Boron Abel offers his hand to shake, politely smiling
Why was the halfling sad?
Yeah, hey. He opens the door with a key, barely turning around enough to notice the offer of a handshake. He returns it and the slick feel of motor oil is still very faintly but ever so noticeably present.
Gwynn curtsies to Lord Boron.
Glad to meet you. Hailee, at your service. She said, reaching out her hand. I'd say he's a good man, but that hardly matters as long as I keep seeing progress. Gwynn said. He's a good set of numbers, if you know what I mean. She said with a smile.
Nice to meet you, names Lorren
For some reason it was outside the spoiler
I was on my phone that time so maybe I accidentally clicked show?
For some reason it was outside the spoiler
I was on my phone that time so maybe I accidentally clicked show?
As it so happens, neither Boron nor the GM know what Gwynn means, luckily, Boron seems uninterested in further digging anyway.
Right, yeah. We've pretty much finished the skeletons of the drills, gave ya most of the models too. Kept one here for Ma like she asked. We'll get the ol' bird free soon enough, mark my words.
Boron keeps talking, seeming a bit more relaxed at the very least. The room he leads the party into is fairly wide open. Dirt lines caked into the ground indicate the former presence of conveyor belts judging by the shape. Against the rightmost wall stands an object hidden by a cloth. The object is roughly the size of a large tree on it's side. Next to it are three guards, each of whom are armed and eye the party while Boron speaks.
'Ere ya go. Feel free to give it a look over. Boron pulls back the drape.
What lies under it resembles a battering ram to an extent. The major differences are the large, roughly 6 foot (2 meter for any non-Americans who may be playing) drill at the nearest end, and several technological pieces including an antenna of some kind, and other devices that will require a Knowledge: Engineering check to identify.
Drills? What could they be planning?
Serephina wandered around the drill, looking at it. She had no idea what the specifics were, and decided to ask. "I'm not an engineer, I'm afraid...can you give us the details on it? Is it up to the job?"
Boron circles the device as he speaks, guards, both orcs still watching everyone but him.
We already sent ya nine. Waddya mean? If my work ain't up to yer standards, now ain't the time to complain. Payments already gone through. Assumin' ya want the short answer: they drill into debris an' things like that. Excavatin' mostly. The neat part is these are remote operatin'. So's yer guys don't choke half to death on dust an' if a collapse happens, nobody dies. Good deal, eh?
"Nice job."
Excavating? What do they need that for? The festival?
"It's been up to standard, as far as I know," Serephina replied quite honestly. "But I like to be clear on things. You know how it is. Miss a detail and someone blows up in your face." She smiled. "Can you imagine how silly I look with no eyebrows?"
That's definitely be unfortunate, Agatha. Gwynn said to Seraphina, scanning the drill. Impressive indeed.
Oh gods, they're going to drill into the core of the globe unless the world leaders pay a ransom!
Stopping to look at the totally-telling-the-truth-for-real authorities, Boron continues to speak curtly.
Nuthin's blowing up unless yer plannin' on drilling into a gas pocket. Just make sure the automated controls 're workin' right. Jus' use the manual's we printed an' you can drill right into the "font room" or whatever it's called. If ya got any more questions, I'm headin' back to my office.
Gwynn smiled and nodded at Azrael.
How far away are we from our next goalpost? Gwynn asked, attempting to word the next few sentences so that Ma might give her all the answers willingly. Our employer is getting a little... shall we say, anxious. He wants to know when that drill's going under and when it hits our target. I... wouldn't keep him waiting.
From further away, Boron shouts back
O'Sullivan's got a hell of a temper, don't 'e? Ya got 9 Fissures already, tha one over by you is 'bout 90% done. Jus' let 'im know he's got the eight drills he wanted to start with. The extra two ain't worth gettin' worked up over. He wanted to start the day before the Festival 'parently. He's got what 'e wants. Jus' smart playin' it safe, I s'pose.
With that he leaves the room.
The guard on the left moves over to the other and whispers something.
Lanliss leans close too Azrael and whispers
"What are they trying?"
Lanliss then hears the guard whispering something. He doesn't get the exact words, but knows it isn't good.
He whispers
Need to leave. Now. They know.
Pulling the rug from under the Festival, I think. Gwynn said. This... could be very bad, if you'd allow me to understate it.
S&~!! Gwynn curses under her breath, her eyes moving towards the door. Don't suppose they'd notice if we all turned tail and got the sweet f%*@ out of here, do you?
"Probably," Serephina murmured, looking around. Oh well. They had what they really needed, and it was time to get on with the mission. "Do you want to try asking them nicely to leave?" She didn't expect they'd listen, but...