Welcome to my second Living Eberron Adventure!
I'll try to actually have rules and a style I stick to, but I'm still new at this, so you can expect some changes over time.
Tentative Rules
1. Try to post at least every other day. Let us know if you're going to be gone for a long period of time.
If a player disappears to long, I reserve the right to NPC their character and then write them out gracefully.
2. Please post a link to your character with your first post: this way I know where to find you.
3. Please use Invisible Castle for your die rolls.
4. Color for character speech is perfectly optional, but I do need quotation marks.
5. Please be patient with me: I'm relatively unfamiliar with the Dragon Shaman and the Scout classes. If you think I've missed one of their capabilities, you're probably right. Just remind me.
Style notes
This adventure was designed to take second level characters to an authoritative third level (authoritative translates as 'enough xp to do some crafting'') There are no guarantees a third level character will make fourth.
My vision of Eberron is a little more noir and pulpy than other people's. Certain parts of this adventure will not feel like standard D&D.
I believe action points are meant to be used: you should expect to need them.
Watch for homages.
Bill Begley walks back out of the Tower's Shard and turns back to face you.
"Cor, 'sroight glad Oi am yure comin' ."
It sounds like he's right glad you're coming with him.
He lowers the box from his bag and opens a hinged panel on top.
The aroma of spice-roasted chicken issues forth.
"I'm Bill Begley. What're your names?"
He manages to keep a quiet conversation with the party while simultaneously selling drumsticks at a copper apiece and the occasional whole roast chicken for a silver.
Stepping outside of the Shard, Veyk looks at Bill Begly and says emotionlessly, " I am Veyk, for now. "
__________________ -Kaodi
Good name in man and woman, dear my lord,
Is the immediate jewel of their souls.
Who steals my purse steals trash; 'tis something, nothing;
'Twas mine, 'tis his, and has been slave to thousands;
But he that filches from me my good name
Robs me of that which not enriches him
And makes me poor indeed.
-Iago, Shakespeare's Othello, Act III. Scene III. Lines 180-186.
" Zook Archizald of Korranberg, Archivist, librarian, and writer for the Korranberg Chronicle and all-around renaissance man. IF you need something, odds are I may be able to randomly find some way to do it. You may have read my recent piece on the berry species of Breland.
__________________ my characters: Zook Archizald : currently in Last Words
Frustrated to have to repeat himself Mathew gives his hand to shake a says "I am Lord Mathew d'Cannith, glad I could help."
__________________
Charaters I Play:
Mathew d'Cannith Living Eberron(Currently in 'The Lighting of Death') Links Living Eberron (Currently in 'A1: Lost Knowlegde of Arcanix') Braidan Living Eberron (Currently in 'Goblin's in the Cellar') Warren Pierce WD's 'Base of Operations
"I am Reveka, called Scrapescale among the Guardians of my homeland- I am by trade a warrior, skilled with a blade and blessed by the brass wyrm Hazsuranni. I will be glad to test my skills against the trials ahead. While we walk, perhaps we might discuss what skills we each possess- some I know, at least a bit, but it might be good to know, for instance, who will step to the front if we face combat..."
OOC: FWIW, Reveka will have her Presence aura active for the time being; +1 to all allies' skill rolls for Bluff, Diplomacy, and Intimidate made within 30 feet. I'm willing to fast-forward through the actual discussion of skills, or to play it out- mostly she just wants to have some idea of who can do what, which as players we already know; if nothing else it gives them something to talk about so as not to interrupt the chicken-selling. Character is here: http://www.enworld.org/showpost.php?...1&postcount=94
"That is a fine idea Reveka" replies Rethlin. "My prayers to the Silver Flame can channel healing, protective wards, and other effects. In addition I am a stout warrior. All for the glory of the Silver Flame, of course..."
"I am an artificer. I can imbue items temporarily with magical properties. I will not be too helpful in melee though"
__________________
Charaters I Play:
Mathew d'Cannith Living Eberron(Currently in 'The Lighting of Death') Links Living Eberron (Currently in 'A1: Lost Knowlegde of Arcanix') Braidan Living Eberron (Currently in 'Goblin's in the Cellar') Warren Pierce WD's 'Base of Operations
Veyk does not look impressed by the pronouncements of his company. " Perhaps you should all wait to demonstrate your talents by ridding these folk of that which is troubling them, instead of puffing up your chests and acting all heroic, " says the changeling. Turning to Bill, he motions and says, " Call you skycoach and let us get this over with. "
__________________ -Kaodi
Good name in man and woman, dear my lord,
Is the immediate jewel of their souls.
Who steals my purse steals trash; 'tis something, nothing;
'Twas mine, 'tis his, and has been slave to thousands;
But he that filches from me my good name
Robs me of that which not enriches him
And makes me poor indeed.
-Iago, Shakespeare's Othello, Act III. Scene III. Lines 180-186.
"Oi, wotcher!" Bill replies.
A second later he whistles shrilly and waves both hands in the air.
"OI! WILL!"
A battered skytruck bearing the words
MEURIS MOVEMENT
on its side drops out of the traffic and lands lightly in front of you.
"'Ello, 'ello, 'ello!" grins the half-orc driver.
"These are your blokes? Couple o' right toffs in the mix."
"Garn!" Bill retorts.
The half-orc shrugs.
"Lady and gents, step in at no charge. Today you're part of the Brotherhood."
He reaches back and pulls open the back of the truck, revealing rough benches set along the walls.
Bill hoists his box in and sits down.
"Chicken leg?" he offers to all and sundry, as the truck drops back into another level of traffic.
Over the next half-hour, Bill and Will explain a few things about Wrightspire, Middle Wrightspire, and The Benevolent Craftsman, Professionals, and Residents Association of Middle Wrightspire. Actually, Will usually translates for Bill: his accent is better.
Wrightspire is shaped like a mushroom stacked on an upside-down ice-cream cone. It's actually a little shorter than the average height of towers in Sharn. Wrightspire Cap is a moneyed neighborhood especially popular among House members who are looking for a quiet backwater in which to hide from House politics.
Middle Wrightspire has a microclimate odd even by Sharn standards: there's a relatively stable manifest zone just under the Cap through which cold dry air blows. This air tends to stay cold because Middle Wrightspire is always in shade from the Cap. The cold dry air hits the warm wet tropical air in the rest of Sharn and creates a rain front that hangs about Middle Wrightspire. Thus, it's always cooler than Sharn as a whole and almost always raining, drizzling, or foggy.
The cooler temperatures make Middle Wrightspire comfortable for many emigrants from the Northlands, even if the cool comes with rain. Native Sharnians generally find it unpleasant, and property values are low. This makes Middle Wrightspire a haven for foreigners and Sharnians with no other options.
This motley collection has banded together and created the The Benevolent Craftsman, Professionals, and Residents Association of Middle Wrightspire, a sort of cross between a barter collective, civic association, relief society and (Veyk and Jack get the idea) Mafia family.
About three weeks ago people started hearing funny noises...sort of an oooEEEoooEEEoooEEE sound in ascending thirds.
Then the streetlights started disappearing and after that, people started seeing...things.
Talking about the ...things makes Will and Bill very nervous and it seems as if they might need a bit of Diplomacy check to open up about them.
Jack puts a comforting hand on Bill's shoulder, "The more we know, the more we will be able to help. Please tell us; if there is some frightening bit held back, it just might be the clue we need to crack this open and be rid of it forever." Diplomacy (open up, guys) (1d20+3=23) Yay! Natural 20!
"Roight..." Will says warily.
"Bill 'ere 'as 'ad summat at his chicks -- a wildcat, loike."
Bill shakes his head.
"Nah. Wildcat would kill chicks for meanness, but not eat sixty an more."
"A pack o' wildcats?" Will suggests.
"Wildcats don't go in packs, thickhead. An' we'd see a big enough pack o' wildcats to eat sixty chicks."
Bill bites his lip.
"An' there's a few things I ain't talked about yet. I served me time in the army, I did, an' I saw a lot o' nasty things. This I ain't never seen, an' when I did, I knew it was beyond the likes o' the sherriff. If he cared." Bill punctuates his last sentence by spitting out the cab window and staring moodily into space.
"Will, take us around the back of my house quiet-like an' let us off at the roof. Lisbet doesn't need to see this."
"Bill -" Will says warningly.
"I'm gonna show them." Will tells him firmly. "I'm no scholar like Buntleby, but they read that letter so's I could hear it. He left a thing or two out, even if he did consult all his dictionaries. They'd better see this with their own eyes. Pull 'round."
Will grimaces and taps the phantasmal mounts gently with his whip. The mounts speed up and climb, lifting the cart just out of the stream of traffic to open up a path for more speed.
The skytruck dips gently under a bridge and banks towards the black clouds gathered far distant, under the Cap.
A minute later the skytruck comes in under the shadow of the great grey cap and the party passes from light into darkness. Will takes the truck low and very fast just over the roof-trees, twitching the reins occasionally to keep out of the way of chimney-pots.
The houses here are built like row houses, but with shops or offices on the first floor: most of the buildings are three stories tall, but there are a few four-storied ones.
Will brings the truck to a gentle halt in midair just six inches behind a three-story house with a lean-to on the roof sprouting from its four story neighbor. Crates and barrels are stacked alongside the lean-to.
Reveka smells a damp gust coming, bringing rain. Lightning flashes overhead and thunder echoes DOOM Doom doom.
Bill leaves his box in the truck, but jumps out himself.
"Shhh!!"
"Wait!" Will hisses after him, then pulls a morning star out from under the seat and hands it to Bill. He reaches under the seat again and pulls out a short spear.
"Come on!" Bill hisses urgently, beckoning you out.
Veyk
Spoiler:
Bill's white-knuckle grip on the morning star indicates he's pretty spooked. Neither he nor Will look like they want to attack you.
Zook leaps out of the Skytruck and pulls out his Crossbow, looking around and listening for anything unusual, specifically he wants to try and glean whether or not the sounds are illusory( and as such is attempting to disbelieve it)
__________________ my characters: Zook Archizald : currently in Last Words
Reveka climbed down out of the skytruck a bit slowly- she had rather enjoyed the brief flight. As their "hosts" readied their weapons, she unslung her greatsword and tightened up the straps of her pack, getting ready for battle. "What is it that you have to show us, that we might prepare for it?"
Reveka climbed down out of the skytruck a bit slowly- she had rather enjoyed the brief flight. As their "hosts" readied their weapons, she unslung her greatsword and tightened up the straps of her pack, getting ready for battle. "What is it that you have to show us, that we might prepare for it?"
"These aren't for that. These are for the howlers. Not that they'll do much good if they come, seeing as they're already dead, but at least we can die fighting."
Bill shifts aside a few crates and points, averting his gaze.
"There. I've seen it enough."
He is pointing to the body of a chicken imbedded in the board-and-batten wall of the lean-to.
After a moment or two, one wing flutters. Apparently the chicken is still alive.
Linear Mode
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