Tower the Tiny's page

Tower cocks his head, observing the exchange.

Still here, still not much to do right now.

By background, the Binder is dead.

"It's my pleasure to meet you, Sir. I, well, have no experience with subterfuge, so I'll let Ilbryn speak."

Tower's eyes glimmer as he notices the gnome and unleashes a torrent of words.
If there are any Russian speakers here, please forgive my Google Translate.

"О, мой, о, мне приятно встретиться с вами, сэр! Меня зовут Башня, я был личным телохранителем Высокого Биндера Штейльмана, надеюсь, вы слышали о нем. В этой академии невероятно приятно видеть гнома, я считаю, что вы крайне недопредставлены. Это может быть из-за отсутствия интереса к бою, однако, я помню, что Арканикс был переполнен ими. Ты был там? Плавающие башни невероятно впечатляющие, я упал с одного из них один раз, увлекательный опыт.
Но мы здесь не для того, чтобы сделать небольшой разговор, по крайней мере, не сразу, я бы не стал тебя беспокоить, хотя я был бы рад, если бы тебе понравился чат позже. Так или иначе. Раньше был кирпич, довольно неприметный предмет, обычно, поскольку в городе много кирпичей, что было примечательно, так это то, что этот кирпич был брошен через один из окон библиотеки, и в нем была заметка, в которой говорилось, что Генеалогия короля Кая должна быть доставлена ​​им в обмен на дочь командира, по-видимому, похищенного кем-то, кто бросил кирпич.
Я бы предложил использовать заклинания, чтобы найти девочку, или отправить связанные духов, чтобы исследовать, но это не мое место, чтобы решить это, а не прямо сейчас, поэтому мы пришли к вам с этой информацией, чтобы мы пошли и .. Каким должен быть наш следующий шаг, Ильбрин? Волонтер, чтобы спасти ее? Кажется довольно авантюрным."

He turns towards the half-elf and realizes his mistake. "Ah, do you speak Gnomish? I asked you what our next step should be. Volunteering to rescue her?"

"Let us do that, then."
Clutching the note, Tower heads towards the librarian's office.

"Huh, fascinating. Whoever sent this note has apparently kidnapped the daughter of the commander, and will not return her unless the tome containing the Genealogy of King Kaius is delivered to them. Could they not have just walked here and asked for it, if it is in in the library?"

"A note tied to a brick, as a rather crude way of delivering a message, although an indubitably effective one at getting the attention of someone. Magic could be more accurate and effective, but can be traced much more easily. And now that I think about it, the brick could also be seen as a means to intimidation. Once again crude, but I believe that people fear heavy bludgeoning tools. And they fear sharp implements, and volatile alchemical substances as well, even when properly stored and handled, something that always struck me as rather foolish. Is it not the use, or rather misuse that one makes of a tool, that determines its dangers? There is no more inherent lethality in a brick than there is in me. Although that may not be a good comparison, since my lethality was intrinsic to my creation, I should think about it."

Tower quickly reads the note.

Tower goes to investigate what made the noise, without releasing the magic bound to his hands.

Tower rushes to the source of the sound, quietly activating the runes of Air. His hands start glowing with faint white light as the symbols carved on his hands channel magic from his core into elemental might.

Following Ilbryn to the library, Tower puts his extensive knowledge of books to good use. Without ever stopping his motor mouth, but only whispering, in respect of the quiet place, he waltzes from shelf to shelf, looking for any volume that may help their search.

Perhaps Knowledge might be more appropriate than Diplomacy for bookish info?
Profession(librarian) to Aid Another on Knowledge: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (7) + 7 = 14

Tower listens, filing away every word that is being said or whispered. Surprisingly, he manages to keep silent as Dolos gets details out of Garra. Yet, somewhere in his warforged soul, he's hurt that the woman seemed to be so scared of him, when he only wanted to help...

Tower follows the other fellows, thinking out loud as his usual. "The Axe of Karrn? That Karrn? It would likely be a priceless artifact, if somehow outside my field of expertise."

Perception: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (5) + 2 = 7
Tower gets to the marked oak tree, looking as inconspicuous as he possibly can. Which is not much. "Oh! Hello to you, Ilb- Oh, wait, I am not supposed to say that, am I?"

Noticing Garra hiding, Tower does his best to appear non-threatening. "Mistress Garra, was it? Please do not be concerned with my appearance, I do understand that certain people find us warforged to be unsettling, but be assured that you need not fear any harm from me. If it is true that I am a scholar in the matters of applying magical might to combat, I do not wish to engage in needless violence; I was created for protection, not aggression."

"And about your proposal, Master- oh, please forgive me, I do not know your name- what plan might that be? Oh, no, wait, it is likely a secret one, is it not? Oh, I do enjoy secrets almost as much as I enjoy puzzles. Should we head to a more reserved place? Do you have a hideout? Oh, is it perhaps a secret hideout? Well, of course, you could not tell me, or it would not be a secret. Oh, this all is exciting!"

Tower looks at the trio who invited him and Dolos to the table. Although the warforged's face has a limited range of expression, interest is clearly visible, a childlike curiosity reminding a gnome's.

"Oh, yes, yes, that would be lovely! Are you looking for chances to self-improve as well? You look all like students of Rekkenmark as well, how nice! I am a student myself, I do not know whether you heard my conversation with Master Dolos back there, but I am very pleased to meet you. My name is Tower."

Oh, I had assumed half, here we go 1d10 ⇒ 8

"A Band of Shadows, you say? Not like a ring, I assume, that would be silly, rather a gang. Which can also be called a ring! Ah, the inconsistencies of this language. Well, one way of the other, it looks like an excellent opportunity to train and test my skills and spells! Just where may we start?"

"Boredom as a test? What a terrible thing to do! But I would really be interested in a worthy cause, as a chance to better myself together with the world! What shall we do, Master Dolos? Protect the weak? Vanquish evil? Retrieve lost treasures?"

"Talkative, eh? Is that wrong? My Master used to talk at all times, thinking out loud, making calculations and so on. Perhaps it is a gnomish thing, not so common here. I will try to contain it, if it is unpleasant. And you say I should trust in the academy? But what of the lost time that might be used for the betterment of myself? For hunting down secrets, stealing secrets from Nature, wrestling against the universe itself for a single, splendid drop of understanding? Should I just be bored for months, while I am taught things I do not need and kept from pursuing my interests?"
He makes a buzzing sound, as close as anyone lacking lungs can get to a sigh.
"But going to Sharn is unfeasible. So, unless anyone is looking for company for intriguing endeavours, I am afraid that I will have to adapt to this life. Perhaps I should look for other academically-aligned souls? Oh, but I have not introduced myself. My name is Tower, I never understood whether it was some kind of joke or not. Some call me "the Tiny", and I am quite confident that that is indeed a joke."

"A student! Yes, yes, I am indeed a student. And- wait, you are not the one who spoke."
Tower turns towards the new arrival, his zirconium eyes slightly shining, and unleashes a barrage of words. "Oh. Hello, thank you. I seem to have chosen the wrong words, I am not looking for independent contractors - that is to say, sellswords- rather I was looking to become one. Temporarily, of course. You know, after the Treaty, most warforged have been left struggling for a purpose, since they were made for war and found themselves in a peaceful world, but I have a purpose already, because my master was a fine purveyor and dealer of knowledge, always looking to push at the limits of what is known, and freely spreading what he knew. Finest gnome the world ever knew, he brought me to love the quest for new discoveries."
"But I may be digressing. The point is, I enrolled in Rekkenmark to improve my mastery over might and magic, weaving the two together in order to be best effective at my job, that would be a bodyguard and warden, although I was basically a librarian for a time, before my Master was conscripted. Interesting days, he taught me the basics of conjuration diagrams, thaumic flow and releasing runes, like this, you see, there is a rheev for opening a conduit, the zhul markers for Fire and the discharger is a simple haal linked to my ghurla." He raises his left hand, pointing at a convoluted diagram carved upon it.
"I beg your pardon, I am digressing again. Long story short, there will be no magic classes for me in the foreseeable future, since according to their programs I should be first taught basical weapon and tactical skills, and combat spellweaving is an advanced course, only for the later years. Therefore, I thought that I could use this time to expand what I know through experience, where I am not chastised because I set on fire the training dummy instead of stabbing it. I remember that Master used to outsource resource collection, information gathering and similar jobs to less experienced fellows, as a sort of compensated training, and I believed that it would be the best way to improve my skills."

The warforged's motor mouth pauses for a moment. "Was that understandable? I am often told that I am not the best speaker."

Didn't, my only magic items at the moments are an Everburning Lantern and a Traveler's Any-Tool.
As for tweaks, I switched the racial immunity to paralysis and sleep with elemental resistance and added the Magical Signs drawback. Shouldn't they be appropriate, I'll revert back.

Hello everyone, nice to meet you!
@GM: I've slightly tweaked by build and bought a handful of items.

A gnome-sized warforged enters the establishment, walking with the fast gait of anger. He's wearing a metal breastplate padded with rainbow-patterned fabric, and there are runes closely resembling elemental binding diagrams carved on the back of his hands, their intricate design too precise to be simply decorative.

Stupid bureaucracy, stupid knowledge hoarders, stupid, blind, stuffy robed old relics who call themselves researchers, stupid brawny monkeys with lard between their ears. Is there any way to conduct some research on my own without some idiotic sergeant screaming at me? Explore Xen'Drik alone?
To hell with all of them, at this point I'd rather be an independent contractor. I don't need them telling me how to swing a sword. Master told me that he used to hire sellswords in places of this kind...

Climbing over a stool, he addresses the publican. "Good morrow, sir. Am I mistaken in believing that this is the kind of seedy underbelly location where one may find, amidst unsavory figures, lucrative work opportunities, both in money and knowledge? I would be interested in such an endeavour. Should I jot down a note detaling my qualifications? Or would I need an official document by House Sivis?"
Dead serious, he stares at the tavern owner, not realizing the verbal blunders he has just committed.