EBERRON: THE HIDDEN PbP

001
DOCKS OF YRLAG
THERENDOR 12, 1000 LATE MORNING

IT HAS BEEN NEARLY A MONTH NOW AS YOU AND MANY OTHERS HAVE TRAVELED TO NORTHERN SHADOW MARCHES FROM SHARN, BRELAND. YOU AND ABOUT 30 OTHER EAGER AND ADVENTUROUS YOUNG HEROES HAVE COME TO YRLAG TO FIND YOUR FAME & FORTUNE.

IT WAS NOT LONG AGO YOU READ ABOUT AND HEARD ABOUT THE MYSTERIOUS EVENT JUST SOUTH OF YRLAG. OVER NIGHT, A LARGE SECTION OF THE SWAMP TRANSFORMED INTO AN ALIEN LANDSCAPE. IT WAS NOT LONG BEFORE REPORTS SURFACED OF STRANGE CREATURES AND EVENTS WITHIN THE AREA. STRANGE NEW CREATURES AND EVEN TRANSFORMED ENVIRONMENT.

THEN CAME THE REPORTS OF MORE AMBITIOUS ADVENTURERS. THERE WERE RUINS AND ARTIFACTS TO BE FOUND HERE. A FORTUNE!

WAYFINDERS, RICH BUSINESSMEN, UNIVERSITIES AND ADVENTURERS ARE ALL RACING TO YRLAG TO FIND THEIR PIECE OF HISTORY AND THE RICHES THAT CAN COME WITH IT.

ON BOARD THE SAILING SHIP, ONE OF YOU FIND A PAGE FROM A KORRANBERG CHRONICLE. A FELLOW TRAVELER NO DOUBT HAD COLLECTED IT AND LOST IT. IT IS AN EARLY ARTICLE ABOUT THE EVENTS THAT LED TO THE DISCOVERY OF THE HIDDEN.

IT IS THERENDOR 12, 1000 (EARLY SPRING) WHEN THE SHIP DOCKS IN THE DEEP RIVER. A SMALLER LANDING BOAT TAKES YOU TO THE DOCKS IN SMALL GROUPS OF ABOUT A DOZEN.

THERE IS A LIGHTHOUSE THAT SHOWS SIGNS OF A BAD FIRE IN THE HARBOR. DOCKED TO IT IS AN ELEMENTAL AIRSHIP POWERED BY A FIRE ELEMENTAL. LOOKING TO THE SHORE YOU SEE A MESS OF SMALL WOODEN BRIDGES AND DOCKS ON STILTS. IT APPEARS HALF OF THE SMALL TOWN IS BUILT OVER THE MUDDY WATER.

THE DOCKS ARE MADE OF WOOD, STONE, BRICK AND ANYTHING ELSE THAT WAS AVAILIABLE. THE EASTERN END OF THE TOWN HAS LARGER AND BETTER CONDITION BUILDINGS THAT ARE ERECTED ON STONE AND EARTH. THE WESTERN EDGE OF THE TOWN IS NOT BUILT ON STILTS BUT CONSTRUCTED IN THE MUCK AND MIRE. IT IS KNOWN AS OLD TOWN. THIS IS THE HOME FOR GOBLINS AND THE VERY POOR.

ONE SECTION OF DOCK LOOKS BETTER AND STRONGER THAN THE REST. LOOKING CLOSER, YOU CAN SEE THE FLAG OF HOUSE THARASHK WAVING IN THE AIR. THE HUMANS AND HALF-ORCS OF THIS FAMILY ARE THE FINDERS OF EBERRON. MANY WITHIN THE FAMILIES ARE BORN WITH MAGICAL MEANS TO LOCATE THINGS THAT CANNOT BE SEEN READILY.

THIS INCLUDES EBERRON SHARDS USED FOR ENHANCING MAGICS. THESE CRYSTALS ARE FOUND JUST UNDER THE SURFACE OF THE MUDDY WATERS OF THE SWAMP ENCASED IN ROCKY SHELLS.

HOUSE THARASHK RUNS THE TOWN. THEY ARE THE LAW HERE.

WHERE YOU FIND HALF-ORCS ONE WILL FIND FULL BLOODED ORCS. THESE DRUIDS WATCH AND PATROL THE SWAMPS FOR THE EVENTUAL RETURN OF THE ABERRATIONAL FORCES FROM XORIAT, THE PLANE OF NIGHTMARES.

RUMOR HAS IT THE XORIAT MAY BE ONE OF MANY CAUSES OR ORIGINS OF THE HIDDEN.

Aric d'Brennan gazed upon the airship with no small amount of pride in his house for crafting the vehicle and some small measure of shame in himself over his recent failings with the Zil gnomes. "See that airship, Flit?", he asks his Homunculus. "We may be arriving in a regular old watership, but by the time we leave this town, we'll be flying off in style aboard one of those beauties." Flit made a sort of mechanical purring noise and sat upright on Aric's shoulder. The tiny winged construct looked at the airship in the distance but said nothing.

Flit looked like a slender, winged Siamese cat, built from a strange mixture of flesh, gears, and wiring. There was golden filigree tracing over the homunculus' body. Tiny wires stretched taught between the body and wings. Gears were plainly visible at each joint, and every so often, a small spark of arcane energy would flicker behind pale yellow eyes. A sharp barb was nestled at the end of Flit's curling tail.

As the landing boat docked, Aric gathered his supplies, and stepped onto the wood. He looked around, but didn't immediately see anyone waiting for him. "I guess we are getting our 'hero's welcome' again. Why don't you go scout the town from above. Start mapping the area. Find the Cannith outpost, or an Inn." Flit took to the air. His body gave a soft mechanical whirring that faded away as his wings worked to gain altitude. Aric turned towards the vendors with hungry intent. He had heard that the Marchers had some interesting ideas about what did and did not qualify as food. Finding a reliable source early would make life a little easier during his stay in Yrlag.

Cyric cocks his head at the newspaper page before he leaves the ship. "Hmm, I must get a copy of that for later". As he disembarks, he surveys the scene.

Heading towards the tavern district, he attempts to purchase a copy of "The Korranburg Chronicals" somewhere nearby and also a map.

Before purchasing however, he has a question about the validity of the maps, what-with the strange magical occurrences around; he wouldn't be surprised if the salesmen weren't trying to desperately hawk off material that was no longer accurate. He needed to find out to be certain.

Sighing and tightening his fingers around his coinpurse, Cyric approaches one of the men. "Pardon me sir, I am interested in purchasing one of your maps, but I do have one or two questions about the product..."

[sblock=OOC]Actually, I didn't realise that page might have been a little bit old, so I MIGHT have been the one to take the article if my character thought finding another would not have been possible[/sblock]

The old copy of the Chronicle was a breath of fresh air on the voyage, all manner of questions were raised and with every attempt answer, more were queried. Committing much of it to memory, Dairken idled away the rest of his time learning to tie knots from the deckhands.

Checking all his gear and suiting up for landfall, our land loving elf, Dairken, debarked from what could possibly only be explained as an eternal nightmare of nausea and perpetual balancing; he mingled with the main group of passengers heading down the gangway. A few stumbles in the wrong direction before he gets his legs back, he makes for the center of the dock. Appearing to painstakingly peruse the wares of the vendors, he keeps his keen ears on the tilt for key gossip [roll0].

spying the flying catlike automaton leaving on it's masters errand, he happens up to the human 'interesting pet, Aric, I hadnt noticed it on our voyage, granted I was busy trying keep myself in one place' he smiles adding, 'shall we encroach upon Cyric? it would appear his purse needs protection' he nods slightly in the warriors direction. 'the sooner I get to town and bath the better, I must needs rid myself of the bulk of my apparel, I dont think the smell of seaweed and fish oil will ever wash out!'

After what has seemed like an Eternity of going from ship to ship, Tarnemelk is obviously overjoyed to be off of boats for the foreseeable future. Once he takes his first steps off of said boat he slowly walks up to Dairken and Cyric, and constantly looking around himself, you would almost think he had just gotten off at a much larger port with a lot more to see, but none the less he seems intent on taking in all the 'grandeur' of his surroundings.

As he sidles up to the 2 he asks "So anyone here actually been here before? or have some privy on the local lay of the land?" its at that moment he notices Aric "Ooooooo so are we taking bets on how long he keeps his purse?"
and then seemingly talking to a 4th person "Oh look at that" looking towards the fly homunculus "Isn't that exciting! maybe you will have a friend!"

"Technically, he's more of an advanced tool, than a pet." Aric corrected. His voice softened as he continued, "Though it is a common enough misconception. I certainly don't help matters by naming it and talking to it, do I? I kept Flit inside the bag during the trip. I didn't have a need for him until now, what with not being able to leave the ship." All the while, Aric was getting a telepathic birds-eye-view of the area. It would take about 15 or 20 minutes for Flit to complete a full circle of his maximum range, but by the time it was done, Aric would at least have a rough idea about where the edges of town, major roads, and conspicuous landmarks were. He wouldn't know what each and every building was, but hopefully, Flit could pick out a couple important ones. "Flit has about a mile radius on what information he can give me about the area. That will be good enough for the town, I suppose, but a map would actually be useful if we plan on going to The Hidden."

Aric followed Dairken towards Cyric and the vendors. With the incoming mental images, it was easier to let Dairken take the lead, so Aric didn't bump into things. "You should have mentioned the smell was bothering you sooner. I could have whipped up a token to dull your senses to it. No point in it now, I suppose. All I want is a decent meal. I've heard that some Marchers will eat swamp rat, and if you aren't careful, they try to pawn it off as chicken meat to outsiders." Aric gave the vendors in the area a circumspect look.

Vorik read the paper on the voyage with interest, but the tale of another wartime atrocity against Karrn's going unpunished made it hard to concentrate on the story of the happenings in the swamp.

The tall Karrnathi Cleric steps off the boat with a rattling of armor and weapons. His armor smells of freshly applied oil. Seeing the assembled group of his fellow travelers chatting on the docks Vorik approaches just in time to catch Tarnemelk's words. "My first time here as well. I assume you all plan to explore the strange happenings here. Should we explore together?"

Pleasantly surprised and a little flattered that those he has travelled with are so keen to stick together for now, Cyric smiles. "Er, well yes, that would be very nice. I agree on a meal and a wash too. I don't NEED to eat, but a hot meal could work wonders. Er, just one moment, whilst I enquirer on maps". He turns back to the salesman, awaiting a response.

Dairken curls his nose at that thought of eating rat 'well I would never!'

'indeed we should, Vorik, these untold hidden treasures will not reveal themselves!' he agrees,'Good morning by the way.'

While they gather and converse, Dairken surveys the potion vendors wares.

AS THE PEOPLE UNBOARD FROM THE LANDING BOAT SMALLER GROUPS ARE FORMED. ONE GROUP LOOKS ABOUT THEY GREET EACH OTHER. ARIC d’BRENNAN WITH HIS HOMUNCULUS- FLIT, CHEVRI BRIGHTLEAF, CYRIC DORM, DAIRKEN d’PHIARLAN,TARNEMELK AND VORIK FIND THEMSELVES THEIR OWN GROUP. THEY HAVE MET AND SPOKEN OFTEN ON THE SHIP SINCE LEAVING SHARN.

THE ELF- DAIRKEN, INSTINCTIVELY BEGINS TO LISTEN TO THE SOUNDS OF THE DOCKS. HE EAVESDROPS AS THE ARTIFICER SPEAKS TO HIS STRANGE CLOCKWORK WINGED CAT. HE HAS IT FLY INTO THE AIR AND DO RECON. IT IS A GOOD IDEA THE ELF BELIEVES.

AS MUCH AS THEY WANT TO BELIEVE THE MAGICAL CONSTRUCT CAN FIND THE TYPICAL PLACES ONE WANTS TO VISIT WHEN NEW TO TOWN, CYRIC WISHES MORE HANDS ON HELP. HE SPOTS A MAN SELLING MAPS. CURIOUS HE MOTIONS TO THE MAN.

“INTERESTING PET, ARIC.” SAYS CYRIC.

THEY TALK ABOUT THE PARTICAL COPY OF THE KORRANBERG CHRONICLE THAT WAS FOUND ON THE SHIP. IT GAVE CRYPTIC HINTS AT WHAT IS HAPPENING HERE. ARIC IS DISTRACTED FOR A MOMENT AS HIS CREATION DODGES BOLTS FIRED FROM ½ ORC GUARDS OVER A RAISED ROAD. THE MESSENGER FLIES BACK TO HIM.

THE ELF POINTS TO THE CLOSEST VENDER. “HE SELLS MAPS. LET’S SEE WHAT HE HAS.”


“AH! HELLO GOOD MEN AND WOMAN. HOW IS OUR DAY? HOW MAY I HELP YOU? ARE YOU HERE TO EXPLORE THE NEW WATER AND HIDDEN ALSO? DO YOU NEED DIRECTIONS? I CAN HELP.”

THE MAN LOOKS HEALTHY BUT HAS A SCAR CROSSING HIS FACE. IT LOOKS RECENTLY HEALED.