At the rear of the approaching quartet, is a half-orc.
Bedraggled sums up his appearance. He doesn't have a proper cloak, and the rain has slipped past his wide, conical straw hat to soak through all his clothing. Heavy and clinging, the rough homespun hangs from his limbs. His plain leather vest looks stout enough. Could it be a piece of hide turned inside out? A knife rests in a horizontal sheath across his belly; it's supported by his rope belt is knotted at his left hip. On his back is a large itinerant peddler's pack, although it sags mostly empty. Two long wooden staves are tied to the pack and loom above his head. The pack clanks of metal knocking on metal when he moves.
Somewhat incongruously a longsword hangs from the hip of this peasant-pedlar.
The half-orc's features are almost mild enough to pass for human, and his long, lush hair supports the inference, but a prominent lower left canine that just slips out from under his upper lip, and a faint greenish tinge to his skin, barely discernible in the gloom, proclaim a different ancestry.
"It is not safe to walk these bridges. Evil walks them too."
What could it be? Is it really a robbery? There has never been such a thing and here it is again. The former guard says this with sarcasm in his voice and pulls out his multi-shot crossbow. I suggest we check it out.
Jacen d'Orien steps to the door, glancing back at Beren.
"I know, right? How very odd that anyone would attack one of the Great Houses! Perish the thought!"He had dealt with this most of his life ...
Everyone should be level 2.
Karsh'e motions to the broken door. "Beren, this is your area. Do you want to lead? Escher whatever took the door from its hinges must be very strong. Maybe you should go next?"
Who are you? Beren slowly goes inside and addresses two strangers. I would like to clarify this point. He casts a brief glance at his companions with whom he did the previous business. From his look, it's not hard to understand - we can't trust any random people near the crime scene.
Lia follows the big strong men in...
The tables and stools within the message station are in disarray; some are overturned or smashed, others have been forcefully scattered from their usual places. Behind the counter, lying atop a spilled shelf of scrolls and parchment sheets, is the gnome clerk who runs the station. She moans, unconscious but apparently still alive.
Escher brings up the rear, his ectoplasmic sheath manifesting as a large sword.
Lia rushes to the Gnome, checking her wounds and administering any needed first aid.
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The warforged executes a quick half-bow in Beren's direction. "Lambda-42, warforged bodyguard, and my patron, Mr. Jacen d'Orien." he says, gesturing to Jacen. Not waiting for a response, he follows the other warforged in.
"That's Beren, Escher, and Lia. I'm Karsh'e."
Karsh'e waits until all the others have gone in. He takes one last look at the bridge, then backs through the broken door. He tries to manhandle the door so that it fits better into its frame and is less likely to attract attention from passers by.
Then he steps toward the front of the party behind the new warforged.
(darkvision 60')
Lia rushes to the Gnome, checking her wounds and administering any needed first aid.
She is definitely hurt. Bruised, cut, and roughly manhandled. She is wearing a dress that is in tatters. "They took it," she rasply said.
The warforged executes a quick half-bow in Beren's direction. "Lambda-42, warforged bodyguard, and my patron, Mr. Jacen d'Orien." he says, gesturing to Jacen. Not waiting for a response, he follows the other warforged in.
Before they entered ...
"My preference would be to simply go by the name Jacen.
Simpler for everyone really, especially me."
Upon entering ...
"Conserve your strength miss, we will help you. What is it that was taken?"
"A message, for the Lady Eladryn d'Cannith," says the gnome. "I didn't memorize it since I handle many messages a day."
"Lady Eladryn? Did you send it before it was taken?"
"Lady Eladryn? Did you send it before it was taken?"
"I didn't even have a chance to," said the gnome.
Seeing that the others have this portion of the situation well in hand, Lambda turns, out of habit, to his fellow warforged. "They seem to have things under control here. We should establish a perimeter."
It cannot be said that the former guard was satisfied with the answer from two new strangers, but it seems that his partners did not care about these guys and he decided to switch to other urgent matters. How long ago did this happen? Beren asks the gnome.
It cannot be said that the former guard was satisfied with the answer from two new strangers, but it seems that his partners did not care about these guys and he decided to switch to other urgent matters. How long ago did this happen? Beren asks the gnome.
"Not long, about eight to ten minutes ago," said the gnome. "It was a warforged and four kobolds."
"Warforged? Was there anything special about them?"
Lia tightens a bandage, "This one will be fine. Did you see which way they went? Is it possible to track them in this damn rain?"
Beren immediately begins to look for traces in which direction the attackers left, and after finding them, offers everyone to follow.
As they move, it becomes clear that Escher is very fast, but slows down to keep the pace of the group. He approaches the new people, "Greetings. When we get a chance, I'd love to share our stories." To Lambda, he adds, "Few have such control over their form. Was this by volition, or did this evolve over time?"
Lambda will also probably understand Escher more than he understands himself. He has no knowledge: psionics. One thing you would notice is that parts of his ectoplasmic shell seem to resemble the quori.
Lia tightens a bandage, "This one will be fine. Did you see which way they went? Is it possible to track them in this damn rain?"
"I don't know," said the gnome. "It happened all very fast."
"Warforged? Was there anything special about them?"
"I think he had a triangular sign on his head. No, definitely a triangular sign on his head."
Perception or Survival: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (16) + 7 = 23
Beren immediately begins to look for traces in which direction the attackers left, and after finding them, offers everyone to follow.
Beren, you find a piece of broken wood. No tracks.
Something else occurs to Karsh'e. "You said the message was for Lady Eladryn. Did you mean it was addressed to her, or from her?"
After the clerk answers, he says, "Thank you -- . I am sorry what was your name? Thank you, <name>. You have been very brave. Will you be all right here?"
As they move, it becomes clear that Escher is very fast, but slows down to keep the pace of the group. He approaches the new people, "Greetings. When we get a chance, I'd love to share our stories." To Lambda, he adds, "Few have such control over their form. Was this by volition, or did this evolve over time?"
Lambda will also probably understand Escher more than he understands himself. He has no knowledge: psionics. One thing you would notice is that parts of his ectoplasmic shell seem to resemble the quori.
As they go, Lambda shakes its head. "No, it was all intentional. I was selected, during the war, as squad armorer and developed a fondness for modification. I have continued...tinkering over the years."
"My abilities were unexpected, but I've been developing them. The blade is new and I've been experimenting with creating a shield. I suspect it has something to do with the exoitc materials of Xen'Drik used in my creation."
Something else occurs to Karsh'e. "You said the message was for Lady Eladryn. Did you mean it was addressed to her, or from her?"
After the clerk answers, he says, "Thank you -- . I am sorry what was your name? Thank you, <name>. You have been very brave. Will you be all right here?"
To Karsh'e's 1st question: "It was addressed to her."
2nd question: "You may call me Elayne. Elayne d'Sivis."
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Jacen: "Very well, Elayne."
"Elayne, did you happen to notice a name or return address on the envelope? If we cannot track these curs down now, perhaps we could start investigating at the source."
"There was one, Aeren d'Cannith," said Elayne.
"Why would one member of House Cannith send a message outside to another member of the House? Why wouldn't they just walk over and talk?"
Elayne d'Sivis is still in shock. She doesn't have an answer to what you just said.
"Can we look around? They might have dropped something."
Elayne d'Sivis is still in shock. She doesn't have an answer to what you just said.
"Lady d'Sivis, may we look around the centre? There may be information here that would help us track your attackers."
"I'll let you look around," says the gnome.
Karsh'e, you see the message station overturned and many files opened and dumped on the floor. Some of it is blank parchment, others are parchment with things written on them.
Lia will join in looking through papers and more for any evidence.
Lia will join in looking through papers and more for any evidence.
Perception check, please?
Beren, a professional bloodhound, joins the examination of the papers.
Beren, a professional bloodhound, joins the examination of the papers.
Perception: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (14) + 7 = 21
perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (20) + 5 = 25
You both find a reference to a schema that helps Warforged production. However, it does tell you that it can be found in Whitehearth. There are also signs that it's been copied.
Lambda peers with interest at the document. A better understanding of a warforged's inner workings is always helpful. He's still trying to figure out the best places to install additional limbs. It's like no one had the foresight to plan for more than four appendages. How shortsighted.
An illiterate half-orc waits for the more erudite party members to explain their findings.
"It seems we are being sucked into house politics and nastiness. That's what I'm getting out of this, anyway... This Aeren d'Cannith seems like the place to start.."
"Or we start with Lady Eladryn. She's our friend. Either way we go to House Cannith."
You can meet with Lady Elaydrin at an inn. Or you can chase the warforged and his kobold companions.
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Yes!
Beren nods glumly. He knows perfectly well what chases through the streets of Sharn are worth in heavy rain and how deplorably they can end... To the inn!