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[D&D4e] Sheep in Wolves' Clothing
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<blockquote data-quote="Sgroh87" data-source="post: 5237413" data-attributes="member: 90869"><p><strong>Prelude: Halcyon</strong></p><p></p><p>Target: Aris Danali</p><p>Humanoid</p><p>Blue skin</p><p>White eyes</p><p>6'2" tall</p><p>Wanted for crimes against the state of Breland</p><p>Reward: 1000 Galifars</p><p>Wanted dead or alive</p><p>Corpse must be identifiable</p><p>Considered to be EXTREMELY dangerous</p><p>Last seen in Sharn</p><p></p><p>You look at the picture on the wanted poster. Assassination of a dangerous criminal. Justified. You look up and scan the crowd. The rest of the people in the dark, noisy tavern don't seem to be paying any attention to you or the weathered paper you hold in your hands. In a place as seedy as the Whelpling's Inn, the patrons are more than used to bounty hunters wandering through. You contemplate the task at hand. Acquiring a target in a city as large as this will be difficult.</p><p>But you are always up for a challenge. </p><p><span style="color: DarkRed">With a deep breath and a mechanical grunt, Hal strode purposefully past the thick air and dank tavern inhabitants toward the bar, where a man stood in a tattered apron across the counter cleaning a glass with a soiled cloth. Twenty paces short of Hal's approach the man had not spared him an eye and had even fiddled absentmindedly with the small knife he had concealed in his sleeve. But he did not seem unnerved. Hal stepped up to the bar without pause or hesitation, returning the barkeepers vigilant stare. Immediately, he smacked the counter with his palm, pulling his hand away to reveal the gold coins he'd just left on the bar. Leaning forward on the bar, Hal spoke to the alert man.</span></p><p><span style="color: DarkRed">"I am seeking information," Hal pronounced clearly and evenly.</span></p><p>The barman stole a glance to count the coins on the counter before scooping them out of sight silently while he seemed to consider his reply as well as its recipient.</p><p>"So di'nt you need a drink or somethin' first, eh? Or does your kind not drink then? I always forget. Memory's not what it used to been," the barkeep lied. His stare continued.</p><p><span style="color: DarkRed">With the same hand as before Hal summoned up another handful of coins from an unseen location and placed them on the bar. Now grinning twistedly with satisfaction the barkeep gave up his leering to count the gold again as he scooped it beneath the counter again. Unfolding the page in his other hand, Hal produced the picture from the wanted poster he'd been carrying and placed it on the bar directly.</span></p><p><span style="color: DarkRed">"Tell me what you know of this person," Hal instructed hungrily while intensifying his gaze. "And do not ask for additional bribes."</span></p><p>The barkeep takes the page from the table and examines the picture. "Deva, huh? Them's weird folk. I ain't seen one'a them in ten, fifteen years."</p><p><span style="color: DarkRed">"What are Deva?" Hal asks.</span></p><p>The Barkeep coughs, and grins. "You're going after something you know nothing about, huh? Heh, I'd wish you luck, but it sounds like you're gonna need more than that."</p><p>You meet him with stony silence. After a few seconds under your intense glare, he realizes that messing with you is probably not in his best interests. He starts to wash a glass, then begins to talk:</p><p>"First off, its no use killin' 'em. Word is that they reincarnate or somethin' after they die. Don't know why there'd be a hit out on one, though: they're s'pposed to be some sort of 'being of ultimate good' or somethin'. If I were lookin' for one of 'em, though, I'd try talkin' to one of the churches. Maybe the Flame, maybe the Host. Other'n that, I got no ideas."</p><p><span style="color: DarkRed">As the man's tongue loosens so does Hal's demeanor seem to as he begins ingesting the information being provided to him about his prey. The calm that overtakes him at this moment when all his thoughts begin to focus on his quarry is a unique sensation that Hal relishes in. It is what defines him. It is his purpose.</span></p><p><span style="color: DarkRed">"Where is the nearest church?"</span></p><p>The bartender chuckles at this. "Buddy, do I look like a Host-worshippin' man to you?" You'd be lucky to find someone like that in this whole district. I'd suggest you head up to the top levels. Find the rich folk, them's who can afford to think about the next life, not just this one."</p><p><span style="color: DarkRed">"Top levels. Wealthy district. Thank you for your services." With these words, Hal turns away from the bar and heads toward the exit, bound on seeking a lead on his prey in the upper levels of the city.</span></p><p>You make your way out of the stinking bar, only to find that the smell is just as strong outside. It seems that the lower levels are dark, dank, and dangerous (well, for some) as a whole. You head towards the lift platform you took down here. It's about ten meters wide, and has a central pillar made of cool, brown stone. You open the gate in the guardrail on the side, and walk up to the pillar. The top of the pillar has a slot for coins in it: one copper to go to the middle districts from here, a silver to get to the top. It's not the cheapest, but thinking of the bounty you are about to earn, you are not concerned about mere silver. </p><p>Dropping the coin in, the rocky dias begins, impossibly, to defy gravity. It floats upwards in the sky; ten feet, twenty, fifty, two hundred...</p><p>As you rise through the air, the stink of poverty begins to fade, and you begin to smell something else, something much more pleasant: the hunt. It also becomes brighter: the towers of Sharn are so tall and so dense that the lower wards receive less sunlight; so much less that what seemed like night was actually midafternoon.</p><p>After approximately 15 minutes, the dias you are riding clicks into place in the upper wards. Here, it feels like a different city. Everything is clean and polished: the buildings, the streets, the people; everything is just...better here. Archways span the gaps between towers over two thousand feet in the air, with large plazas on top of and between the buildings.</p><p>You get to the top, and scan the deck. No churches around this particular platform.</p><p><span style="color: DarkRed">Depending on his well-bought information to guide him, Hal continues undeterred further into the upper levels in search of a holy temple or, barring that, a potential source of new information about his quarry.</span></p><p>You wander for several hours, working the streets in a grid in order to find your target. After a while, you spot a chuch belonging to the Silver Flame. It's made of several floors in one of the skyscrapers making up the upper district, and it is decorated with lots of silver metal and beautiful green-black marble. There are large lanterns on either side of the door, with cold silver fire burning in each of them; the mark of the church.</p><p><span style="color: DarkRed">With great anticipation, Hal walks slowly into the church to examine its contents, perhaps to seek out a representative of the church who may be able to provide the information he seeks.</span></p><p>Inside you see that a service is just about to end. A high priest is standing in front of the congregation, and is yelling, providing them with the exciting climax that they all have come to expect from the Flame. He is an old man, with long, white hair, but he is clean-shaven. His red and silver robes hang loosely on his body, billowing like the flames they are meant to represent. </p><p><span style="color: DarkRed">Not intending to disrupt the normal goings of the church and raise suspicion, Hal stalks quietly along the rear of the building, trying mostly not to be noticed. Patiently, he bides his time and listens to the old man's sermon.</span></p><p>"...and the cleansing fire swept through the village, burning the raiders to dust! And lo, throughout the town, were the peasants spared the wrath of the flame. Sin is what drew the raiders to the flame, like moths to a candle! Remember that, each and every one of ye, lest you burn in flames yourself!"</p><p>At the end of his speech, he backs away from the podium and the audience erupts in applause. People begin to stand up and mill around, and the priest begins to head off-stage.</p><p><span style="color: DarkRed">Hal waits for the throng to bleed out into the street before making his way forward through the church to search for the old man, or one of his ilk. He measures his movements carefully so as not to betray his eagerness to achieve his objective. And he mentally prepared himself for his conversation with the holy man.</span></p><p>You make your way through the thinning crowd, and spot the priest who gave the sermon talking to one of the members of the parish. They seem to be discussing a private matter, talking in hushed voices. When he sees you approaching, he says to the woman, "Go. We can discuss the exorcism later." Turning towards you, he says, "We don't usually get many of your kind in here. Are you looking to be inducted into the church?"</p><p><span style="color: DarkRed">"Not exactly, father," Hal offers plainly. "Though you may be able to help me find that which I seek. I am searching for a Deva named Aris Danali. I understand that their kind is close to the churches." </span></p><p>"Well, that's interesting. Quite interesting. Yes, I've seen a deva recently. First one I'd seen in about thirty-five years, in fact, so it was a big deal for me. He came to a sermon and listened to me talk a few days ago. I wanted to speak with him, but he left before I could get to him. Yet, he's been here every night since. It's like he doesn't want to speak to anyone, just to be here. Why are you looking for him?"</p><p><span style="color: DarkRed">"I was hoping to make a business transaction with the Deva," Hal half-bluffed. "Then I can assume he has left already today. And do you know where he goes when he leaves?"</span></p><p>"Oh, you misunderstood. He comes for the night sermons; they are much more impressive than the small service I just gave. You should come back tonight, if you have some sort of dealing with this man."</p><p><span style="color: DarkRed">Careful to mask his excitement over this news, Hal's thoughts begin to race. He considers how and when he will entrap his victim, and what he shall do once his target is in his custody. Behind his eyes, innate energies burn with thought of events to come.</span></p><p><span style="color: DarkRed">"Thank you, priest. Your services have been adequate, although I am not sure I will be able to accept your invitation." Reaching into a fold in his clothing, the warforged produces several gold pieces. "Please accept this small donation to the church, and if you do not see me at the service, think nothing of it."</span></p><p><span style="color: DarkRed">With these words, Hal parts company with the minister of the flame and sets out to assay the streets surrounding the church and set down a plan for ambush.</span></p><p><span style="color: DarkRed"></span></p><p>The priest seems to be very surprised by such a large donation from a non-member. But you take no notice, because you have already left him behind. As you pass through the double doors, you immediately begin to take inventory of your surroundings, noting all of the nooks, crannies, and ledges around you. You scout the allies around you trying to determine the perfect ambush point for the target. You choose a ledge with a good vantage point of the main church exit, where you can see all of the churchgoers' faces.</p><p><span style="color: DarkRed">Hal moves into position on the ledge overseeing the church, carefully maneuvering his body so as to reconnoiter the streets unseen. Once situated, Hal becomes completely motionless, staring intensely into the thoroughfare to map out possible points of approach that the Deva might take to reach the church doors, and what paths he might take to intercept his target from the shadows.</span></p><p>A network of possiblities starts to form in your mind; a flowchart of actions, different positions stemming from the various paths your target could take. You find several ledges and alleyways that you can reach from your vantage point that your target would most likely take. This is the prime spot.</p><p><span style="color: DarkRed">With a cold, vigilant gaze, Hal watches from his hiding place and waits patiently for the Deva to show himself.</span></p><p>Like a metal gargoyle perched on the building, you wait for this "Aris Danali" to show himself. Hours pass, and the sun sets behind you, casting a reddish hue on the skyline. People begin to enter the church for the evening mass, but still you wait. </p><p>After an hour and a half, the congregation ends, and people begin to exit the building. You scan their faces, searching for the one who you are after. </p><p>There.</p><p>You spot the man with the blue skin and a hooded cowl in the throng exiting the church. Just like you expected, you watch as he heads south into one of the alleyways leading away from the church. Then you notice something else. You watch for a few minutes to confirm your suspicions: other men are following him. Two, maybe three; you can't be sure about the last. But all three are armed.</p><p><span style="color: DarkRed">Tracking the men carefully, Hal moves like a penumbra across the rooftops and ledges, stepping expertly across loose tiles and boards to create as little sound as possible. With the eagerness of a child and the patience of a spider, the warforged positions himself above the cadre as long as he can, searching for the opportune moment to strike--not wishing to act in the presence of bystanders and city guards who might interfere with his work.</span></p><p><span style="color: DarkRed">Hal coldly calculates his next move. He imagines himself pouncing on the trailing man from on high and cutting into his companions before incapacitating the Deva. He can almost hear the man's bones crushing under the weight of his steely exoskeleton, and the sound of his sword biting into the flesh of another. He wonders how the Deva will meet death. He has never killed Deva before. He tries to imagine the fading light in the humanoid's stark white eyes.</span></p><p><span style="color: DarkRed">Hal is ready to kill if he can, and wait if he must.</span></p><p><span style="color: DarkRed"></span></p><p>You follow the deva and the men following him. Approximately a quarter of a mile from the church, the deva turns into a side street, almost an alley. It is dark, and no one is around. The three men, who you are now sure are working together, turn to each other and nod, then follow him into the alleyway. </p><p>Suddenly the deva stops moving, and you hear him laugh. It is a rich, warm sound; almost musical. He stops laughing, and says, "Here for the bounty, are you? Well, let's see what you've got."</p><p>Just as you're about to leap, the three men draw their swords and rush the deva, teeth bared and snarling. </p><p>He turns around and grabs the first man's sword by the blade with his bare hands, twisting it aside then ripping it from his grasp. Flipping it around to grasp it by the hilt, he turns the blade at the men. "Well, let's have it. What have you got?" The man whose sword was taken roars in anger and pulls a dagger from his boot, brandishing it at his opponent.</p><p>You watch the battle unfolding underneath you. These men are trained well (though not as well as you, you note), but this deva is holding them off quite handily. You admire his style, watching his graceful moves as he swings the stolen blade around. You watch him disarm the men with ease, knocking their swords away. The three of them stagger and run, knowing that they are no match for this man. He tosses the sword to the ground, then turns his head upwards to look directly at you. "Would you like a go?" he asks, a smile playing at his lips.</p><p><span style="color: DarkRed">Though still confident that the Deva couldn't possibly read his expression from so far away, let alone in the dark, Hal expertly masters his expression of surprise. </span></p><p>"Come on; you came for the bounty, too, didn't you? I'm sure you'll do better than they did."</p><p><span style="color: DarkRed">"You are correct," Hal replies matter-of-factly. He drops nimbly from the ledge into the alley. "I have never hunted Deva. My anticipation is great."</span></p><p><span style="color: DarkRed">As the words leave his cowl his sword hisses upon leaving its sheath. His stance remains loose and his eyes burn from beneath the shallow hood of a simple cloak. He takes pause, mentally playing out the forthcoming duel in his mind and readying his body in kind.</span></p><p><span style="color: DarkRed">[Duelist's Prowess]</span></p><p><span style="color: DarkRed"></span></p><p>The deva's cape flutters behind him, the moonlight casting a silver hue over the two combatants in the alleyway. When the deva sees you more clearly, he chuckles. "A warforged, eh? Wouldn't that be interesting?" He assumes a light, agile stance and stares you down.</p><p></p><p>"You get the first move."</p><p></p><p><span style="color: DarkRed">Without hesitation, the warforged moves in on his opponent quickly with his sword trailing behind him. Without flourish, Hal swings wide with a rudimentary looking but nonetheless adept strike. He directs his swing low towards the thigh on the off chance that he might secure an early advantage over the dextrous Deva.</span></p><p><span style="color: DarkRed"></span></p><p><span style="color: DarkRed">[Riposte Strike]</span></p><p><span style="color: DarkRed"></span></p><p>Aris dodges backwards, but not fast enough to avoid the blade. It bites into his thigh, though not deeply. Pain and surprise flashes across his face. "So the pup has claws. Let's see if he can repeat the feat!" He wheels about, slightly favoring his left leg. "Try again!"</p><p><span style="color: DarkRed">Feeling that the Deva has overplayed his hand, but still unwilling to tip his own, Hal follows up his basic assault with another quick strike. This time he crosses right, hoping to further maim his opponent and secure his victory. He slashes fiercely at the Aris' sword arm, trying to appear more confident than before. </span></p><p><span style="color: DarkRed"></span></p><p><span style="color: DarkRed">He carefully builds in his mind a stratagem founded on the martial deceptions and duplicities in his arsenal, fully expecting that the Deva could be doing the very same.</span></p><p><span style="color: DarkRed"></span></p><p><span style="color: DarkRed">[Riposte Strike]</span></p><p><span style="color: DarkRed"></span></p><p></p><p>Your sword slashes across his bicep, a glancing but painful blow. The deva grimaces, and grasps at the sword, trying to pull it away from you. You yank your blade from his grasp and slice at his arm again. He manages to avoid the blow, and says, "Quite impressive, friend! You've managed to draw blood twice now. I can't remember the last time someone did that. Maybe I should begin my own offense, eh?" With that, he dashes to the blade he disarmed the man of earlier, and in one quick motion rolls to the ground, picks it up, and stands again. Now armed himself, he turns toward you, blade held high. "Can you defend against this?"</p><p></p><p>You feel a tingling sensation in the pit of your stomach, like dozens of eyes are suddenly being trained on you. As the feeling washes over you, the deva lunges at you. You don't recognize the style, but you lunge out of the way, striking once more at the man's arms. The blade cuts deeper this time, blood pulsing out of it. </p><p></p><p>"Very good. Very, very good." The deva steps back from you and lowers his blade. "You are the best that I've seen in… years, probably. I think you'll do quite well. I think you should know that I am not Aris Danali. In fact, no deva by that name exists, or has ever existed."</p><p></p><p><span style="color: DarkRed">Maintaining his loose stance, Hal mentally grapples with the new information given to him by his opponent. Though naturally suspicious of man he has freshly blooded in a dark alleyway, he begins to piece together the strange conduct of the blue humanoid appearing to stand in surrender before him. He reasons that this could be the deception he sensed in the Deva's actions, but decides to err on the side of caution. Feeling that he is well beyond the need for trepidation in combat, he resumes the dialogue between them.</span></p><p><span style="color: DarkRed"></span></p><p><span style="color: DarkRed">"If your words are as slow as your feet, Deva, you will find yourself cut down again in short order. Speak your mind." Hal delivers these words without prejudice, still communicating his sincerity with the wicked glow emanating from his eye sockets.</span></p><p><span style="color: DarkRed"></span>"You see, my associates and I have been looking for someone. Several people, actually. I was searching for a combat expert. A hunter. A warrior. An infiltrator. Someone like you. I figured that the most efficient way to find someone worthy was to put a fake bounty on my own head." He shrugs. "I wasn't really worried. Most of the guys so far have been real pushovers, unable to even scratch me. But you," he says, indicating his wounds, "have done an excellent job. I believe that you're the one we're looking for."</p><p><span style="color: DarkRed">"And why should I believe that you're not just trying to save yourself, Deva?" Hal retorts. "If what you say is true, then you'll have wasted my time and frustrated my efforts, and if it is false, then I should like to complete my hunt and take your head as my prize."</span></p><p><span style="color: DarkRed"></span></p><p><span style="color: DarkRed">Clearly thinking deeply on his own words, the warforged weighs his options carefully before proceeding.</span></p><p><span style="color: DarkRed"></span></p><p><span style="color: DarkRed">"...I will trust you," Hal offers, lowering his weapon. "For now."</span></p><p><span style="color: DarkRed"></span></p><p><span style="color: DarkRed">Hal produces a small piece of cloth and wipes his weapon down quickly before placing it back in its sheath with a familiar hiss.</span></p><p>"Excellent," he says, throwing the borrowed blade back to the ground. "Though, it we're right, your time will definitely not have been a waste. Now come, we have a rail to catch!" He beckons at you, a friendly gesture, and begins to walk out of the alleyway. </p><p></p><p>"Oh, by the way. The name is Reinhardt."</p><p><span style="color: DarkRed">The warforged, having decided to run the Deva's gambit, follows Reinhardt at a short remove and begins speaking to him.</span></p><p><span style="color: DarkRed"></span></p><p><span style="color: DarkRed">"I am called Hal," he replies. "My full designation is Halcyon XR-17. But most humanoids prefer to call me Hal." He pauses shortly before continuing. "I have decided to trust you for now. But I have worked with humanoids before who betrayed my trust, and I was forced to destroy them. It gave me no satisfaction to do so. So I prefer to give you fair warning." </span></p><p><span style="color: DarkRed"></span></p><p><span style="color: DarkRed">"I will require more information from you as to what you and your associates will expect from me, and what I will be able to expect in return. I want to know who I will be working for. And I want to know who you are." </span></p><p><span style="color: DarkRed"></span></p><p><span style="color: DarkRed">Hal turns his head and gazes intently in Reinhardt's direction, rapt with curiosity.</span></p><p><span style="color: DarkRed"></span></p><p><span style="color: DarkRed">"I have never hunted Deva."</span></p><p><span style="color: DarkRed"></span></p><p>"Well, that's a disturbing comment.</p><p></p><p>All I'm authorized to tell you is that this is an infiltration mission, and it is highly dangerous. And if everything goes to plan, you will save the Five Kingdoms." Still walking, Reinhardt turns the corner. "I can explain more once we reach our destination. Though my boss will probably beat me to the punch; he likes to be the one in charge; always leading the way."</p><p></p><p><span style="color: DarkRed">"Very well. If your master has the answers that I seek, then I will go to him."</span></p><p><span style="color: DarkRed"></span></p><p><span style="color: DarkRed"></span></p><p>By the time you arrive at the rail station, it is quite late; well past when the last passenger rail is supposed to go through. But to your surprise, a short, 1 car rail is waiting in the terminal. Reinhardt steps in, then motions for you to join him. Once you are both inside, the lightning elemental sparks to life, and with a dull crackle of electricity, the cart jerks to life.</p><p></p><p>During the ride, Reinhardt tries to start conversations with you, mostly small talk. "Where did you serve in the War," "Were you around in the Mourning," "Have you ever fought or hunted warforged before," and other such questions are asked of you during the ride.</p><p></p><p><span style="color: DarkRed">As the two talk, Hal openly reveals facts about his past. He explains that he was created in a hidden forge inside Cyre, before the Day of Mourning. In that time he had spent as an instrument of war, he had killed dozens of people and warforged at the behest of his creators. He had become a cunning warrior and a skilled infiltrator. He had served his masters for less than a year before the mist came and destroyed the humanoids and corrupted the nation of Cyre. Hal survived the carnage and confusion, however, and made his way into obscurity and safety, as he was trained to do. And as he was made to do, he also continued to indulge in the hunt. He served as a mercenary and a bounty hunter in Breland, capturing and killing the scum of the realm. He made a little money and managed to pursue the closest thing that he could find that might deliver personal satisfaction. This lifestyle brought him to this point, riding the train with a defeated stranger to guilded prospects.</span></p><p><span style="color: DarkRed"></span></p><p>The conversation continues for several hours. You notice that while you are telling your story, Reinhardt keeps looking out of the window, watching the surroundings. After a while, he leans his head out the window, looking intently at the surroundings."Well, you sound perfect for what we need to do. And you will find out exactly what that is in just a... few... minutes." He leans back in and looks at you, and says, "Follow me." With that, he climbs up on the window ledge, and leaps out of the car into the dark forest.</p><p></p><p><span style="color: DarkRed">Reading his movements, the warforged follows deftly behind Reinhardt, leaping into the trees just a second behind him. His feet hit the ground running as he takes in his surroundings in a heartbeat and tries to locate his companion.</span></p><p><span style="color: DarkRed"></span></p><p></p><p>You see Reinhardt jogging up to you. "Nice leap," he says. "Now, we have a bit of a walk ahead of us. Let's get going."</p><p></p><p>Reinhardt starts to walk into the woods. It is dark, and the dense canopy cover makes it difficult for light to penetrate. As you walk, you notice the hoot of the owl, the rustle of the leaves in the wind, the night sounds of the forest. About two miles in, you come upon a large stone building. The thick granite walls look solid, seamless. Reinhardt says, "We'll, we're home. Now, there is a special key to get into the building. That key," he smirks, "is A-flat." And with that comment, he begins to hum a tune. After several bars, you recognize the sound of the Cyran national anthem. Suddenly, you hear a grinding of stone on stone emenating from the building, and a large section of the wall begins to slide inwards, then to the side. Inside you can see a long stone hallway with torches and braziers lighting the way. From your vantage point, you also see several doors made of a thick reddish wood on the walls.</p><p></p><p>"Now, let's go in. It's time to meet your maker. And I mean that literally."</p><p></p><p><span style="color: DarkRed">Confused and intrigued, Hal silently follows Reinhardt through the corridor. As they move forward he inwardly contemplates the meaning of the Deva's words, trying to anticipate what unthinkable surprises await him beyond one of the red wooden doors. Hal had long thought that the artificers who had made him were dead in the Mournland. He had never planned on a contingency like this one. He felt unprepared and off-balance, but exhilarated.</span></p><p><span style="color: DarkRed"></span></p><p>Reinhardt guides you through the hallway, passing the doors to the left and right of you by. He leads you about fifty feet in, where you come upon a hexagonal lift with a pillar in the center; similar to the kind found in Sharn, albeit smaller. Reinhardt presses the button on the lift, and with a grinding of stone, the lift begins to descend.</p><p></p><p>After slowly lowering about twenty feet into the ground, you find yourself entering a large domed chamber filled with white lights. The walls are stone, the same type as the fort above you, but the floor is a polished black and green marble. You see several figures: 12 warforged, standing motionless in rank and file with a robed gnome standing next to them waving her fingers about; several humans standing about, one in overalls with a clipboard in hand, writing down notes, and another with a blue jacket and glasses standing next to him. However, what really catches your eye is the massive machine in the center of the room.</p><p></p><p>A creation forge.</p><p></p><p><span style="color: DarkRed">The sight of the creation forge causes Hal's eyes to light with surprise. He turns sharply to Reinhardt. "I know what this is," says Hal pointing to the forge. He looks to the 12 motionless warforged, eyeing them with intensity. "You are creating warforged."</span></p><p><span style="color: DarkRed"></span></p><p>"Hmm... yes, and no. It's more complicated than that. But I think I'll let our 'great leader' explain the finer details to you. Do you see that man in the worker's clothes? That is none other than Merrix d'Cannith, one of your kind's progenitors." Reinhardt's brow furrows. "I don't know the one standing next to him..."</p><p></p><p><span style="color: DarkRed">"I am ready for answers," Hal replies. "Introduce us."</span></p><p></p><p>Reinhardt walks towards Merrix and the other human. Now that they are closer, you can see them in more detail. Merrix is an older man, probably in his forties or fifties, and he is wearing a jumpsuit, stained with years' worth of oil and grease. Despite his dress, he carries himself proudly, and emits a noble demeanor. The man next to him is scrawny and weak in comparison. His circular glasses are pushed high up, and he looks to be just as confused as you are, if not moreso.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Sgroh87, post: 5237413, member: 90869"] [b]Prelude: Halcyon[/b] Target: Aris Danali Humanoid Blue skin White eyes 6'2" tall Wanted for crimes against the state of Breland Reward: 1000 Galifars Wanted dead or alive Corpse must be identifiable Considered to be EXTREMELY dangerous Last seen in Sharn You look at the picture on the wanted poster. Assassination of a dangerous criminal. Justified. You look up and scan the crowd. The rest of the people in the dark, noisy tavern don't seem to be paying any attention to you or the weathered paper you hold in your hands. In a place as seedy as the Whelpling's Inn, the patrons are more than used to bounty hunters wandering through. You contemplate the task at hand. Acquiring a target in a city as large as this will be difficult. But you are always up for a challenge. [COLOR="DarkRed"]With a deep breath and a mechanical grunt, Hal strode purposefully past the thick air and dank tavern inhabitants toward the bar, where a man stood in a tattered apron across the counter cleaning a glass with a soiled cloth. Twenty paces short of Hal's approach the man had not spared him an eye and had even fiddled absentmindedly with the small knife he had concealed in his sleeve. But he did not seem unnerved. Hal stepped up to the bar without pause or hesitation, returning the barkeepers vigilant stare. Immediately, he smacked the counter with his palm, pulling his hand away to reveal the gold coins he'd just left on the bar. Leaning forward on the bar, Hal spoke to the alert man. "I am seeking information," Hal pronounced clearly and evenly.[/COLOR] The barman stole a glance to count the coins on the counter before scooping them out of sight silently while he seemed to consider his reply as well as its recipient. "So di'nt you need a drink or somethin' first, eh? Or does your kind not drink then? I always forget. Memory's not what it used to been," the barkeep lied. His stare continued. [COLOR="DarkRed"]With the same hand as before Hal summoned up another handful of coins from an unseen location and placed them on the bar. Now grinning twistedly with satisfaction the barkeep gave up his leering to count the gold again as he scooped it beneath the counter again. Unfolding the page in his other hand, Hal produced the picture from the wanted poster he'd been carrying and placed it on the bar directly. "Tell me what you know of this person," Hal instructed hungrily while intensifying his gaze. "And do not ask for additional bribes."[/COLOR] The barkeep takes the page from the table and examines the picture. "Deva, huh? Them's weird folk. I ain't seen one'a them in ten, fifteen years." [COLOR="DarkRed"]"What are Deva?" Hal asks.[/COLOR] The Barkeep coughs, and grins. "You're going after something you know nothing about, huh? Heh, I'd wish you luck, but it sounds like you're gonna need more than that." You meet him with stony silence. After a few seconds under your intense glare, he realizes that messing with you is probably not in his best interests. He starts to wash a glass, then begins to talk: "First off, its no use killin' 'em. Word is that they reincarnate or somethin' after they die. Don't know why there'd be a hit out on one, though: they're s'pposed to be some sort of 'being of ultimate good' or somethin'. If I were lookin' for one of 'em, though, I'd try talkin' to one of the churches. Maybe the Flame, maybe the Host. Other'n that, I got no ideas." [COLOR="DarkRed"]As the man's tongue loosens so does Hal's demeanor seem to as he begins ingesting the information being provided to him about his prey. The calm that overtakes him at this moment when all his thoughts begin to focus on his quarry is a unique sensation that Hal relishes in. It is what defines him. It is his purpose. "Where is the nearest church?"[/COLOR] The bartender chuckles at this. "Buddy, do I look like a Host-worshippin' man to you?" You'd be lucky to find someone like that in this whole district. I'd suggest you head up to the top levels. Find the rich folk, them's who can afford to think about the next life, not just this one." [COLOR="DarkRed"]"Top levels. Wealthy district. Thank you for your services." With these words, Hal turns away from the bar and heads toward the exit, bound on seeking a lead on his prey in the upper levels of the city.[/COLOR] You make your way out of the stinking bar, only to find that the smell is just as strong outside. It seems that the lower levels are dark, dank, and dangerous (well, for some) as a whole. You head towards the lift platform you took down here. It's about ten meters wide, and has a central pillar made of cool, brown stone. You open the gate in the guardrail on the side, and walk up to the pillar. The top of the pillar has a slot for coins in it: one copper to go to the middle districts from here, a silver to get to the top. It's not the cheapest, but thinking of the bounty you are about to earn, you are not concerned about mere silver. Dropping the coin in, the rocky dias begins, impossibly, to defy gravity. It floats upwards in the sky; ten feet, twenty, fifty, two hundred... As you rise through the air, the stink of poverty begins to fade, and you begin to smell something else, something much more pleasant: the hunt. It also becomes brighter: the towers of Sharn are so tall and so dense that the lower wards receive less sunlight; so much less that what seemed like night was actually midafternoon. After approximately 15 minutes, the dias you are riding clicks into place in the upper wards. Here, it feels like a different city. Everything is clean and polished: the buildings, the streets, the people; everything is just...better here. Archways span the gaps between towers over two thousand feet in the air, with large plazas on top of and between the buildings. You get to the top, and scan the deck. No churches around this particular platform. [COLOR="DarkRed"]Depending on his well-bought information to guide him, Hal continues undeterred further into the upper levels in search of a holy temple or, barring that, a potential source of new information about his quarry.[/COLOR] You wander for several hours, working the streets in a grid in order to find your target. After a while, you spot a chuch belonging to the Silver Flame. It's made of several floors in one of the skyscrapers making up the upper district, and it is decorated with lots of silver metal and beautiful green-black marble. There are large lanterns on either side of the door, with cold silver fire burning in each of them; the mark of the church. [COLOR="DarkRed"]With great anticipation, Hal walks slowly into the church to examine its contents, perhaps to seek out a representative of the church who may be able to provide the information he seeks.[/COLOR] Inside you see that a service is just about to end. A high priest is standing in front of the congregation, and is yelling, providing them with the exciting climax that they all have come to expect from the Flame. He is an old man, with long, white hair, but he is clean-shaven. His red and silver robes hang loosely on his body, billowing like the flames they are meant to represent. [COLOR="DarkRed"]Not intending to disrupt the normal goings of the church and raise suspicion, Hal stalks quietly along the rear of the building, trying mostly not to be noticed. Patiently, he bides his time and listens to the old man's sermon.[/COLOR] "...and the cleansing fire swept through the village, burning the raiders to dust! And lo, throughout the town, were the peasants spared the wrath of the flame. Sin is what drew the raiders to the flame, like moths to a candle! Remember that, each and every one of ye, lest you burn in flames yourself!" At the end of his speech, he backs away from the podium and the audience erupts in applause. People begin to stand up and mill around, and the priest begins to head off-stage. [COLOR="DarkRed"]Hal waits for the throng to bleed out into the street before making his way forward through the church to search for the old man, or one of his ilk. He measures his movements carefully so as not to betray his eagerness to achieve his objective. And he mentally prepared himself for his conversation with the holy man.[/COLOR] You make your way through the thinning crowd, and spot the priest who gave the sermon talking to one of the members of the parish. They seem to be discussing a private matter, talking in hushed voices. When he sees you approaching, he says to the woman, "Go. We can discuss the exorcism later." Turning towards you, he says, "We don't usually get many of your kind in here. Are you looking to be inducted into the church?" [COLOR="DarkRed"]"Not exactly, father," Hal offers plainly. "Though you may be able to help me find that which I seek. I am searching for a Deva named Aris Danali. I understand that their kind is close to the churches." [/COLOR] "Well, that's interesting. Quite interesting. Yes, I've seen a deva recently. First one I'd seen in about thirty-five years, in fact, so it was a big deal for me. He came to a sermon and listened to me talk a few days ago. I wanted to speak with him, but he left before I could get to him. Yet, he's been here every night since. It's like he doesn't want to speak to anyone, just to be here. Why are you looking for him?" [COLOR="DarkRed"]"I was hoping to make a business transaction with the Deva," Hal half-bluffed. "Then I can assume he has left already today. And do you know where he goes when he leaves?"[/COLOR] "Oh, you misunderstood. He comes for the night sermons; they are much more impressive than the small service I just gave. You should come back tonight, if you have some sort of dealing with this man." [COLOR="DarkRed"]Careful to mask his excitement over this news, Hal's thoughts begin to race. He considers how and when he will entrap his victim, and what he shall do once his target is in his custody. Behind his eyes, innate energies burn with thought of events to come. "Thank you, priest. Your services have been adequate, although I am not sure I will be able to accept your invitation." Reaching into a fold in his clothing, the warforged produces several gold pieces. "Please accept this small donation to the church, and if you do not see me at the service, think nothing of it." With these words, Hal parts company with the minister of the flame and sets out to assay the streets surrounding the church and set down a plan for ambush. [/COLOR] The priest seems to be very surprised by such a large donation from a non-member. But you take no notice, because you have already left him behind. As you pass through the double doors, you immediately begin to take inventory of your surroundings, noting all of the nooks, crannies, and ledges around you. You scout the allies around you trying to determine the perfect ambush point for the target. You choose a ledge with a good vantage point of the main church exit, where you can see all of the churchgoers' faces. [COLOR="DarkRed"]Hal moves into position on the ledge overseeing the church, carefully maneuvering his body so as to reconnoiter the streets unseen. Once situated, Hal becomes completely motionless, staring intensely into the thoroughfare to map out possible points of approach that the Deva might take to reach the church doors, and what paths he might take to intercept his target from the shadows.[/COLOR] A network of possiblities starts to form in your mind; a flowchart of actions, different positions stemming from the various paths your target could take. You find several ledges and alleyways that you can reach from your vantage point that your target would most likely take. This is the prime spot. [COLOR="DarkRed"]With a cold, vigilant gaze, Hal watches from his hiding place and waits patiently for the Deva to show himself.[/COLOR] Like a metal gargoyle perched on the building, you wait for this "Aris Danali" to show himself. Hours pass, and the sun sets behind you, casting a reddish hue on the skyline. People begin to enter the church for the evening mass, but still you wait. After an hour and a half, the congregation ends, and people begin to exit the building. You scan their faces, searching for the one who you are after. There. You spot the man with the blue skin and a hooded cowl in the throng exiting the church. Just like you expected, you watch as he heads south into one of the alleyways leading away from the church. Then you notice something else. You watch for a few minutes to confirm your suspicions: other men are following him. Two, maybe three; you can't be sure about the last. But all three are armed. [COLOR="DarkRed"]Tracking the men carefully, Hal moves like a penumbra across the rooftops and ledges, stepping expertly across loose tiles and boards to create as little sound as possible. With the eagerness of a child and the patience of a spider, the warforged positions himself above the cadre as long as he can, searching for the opportune moment to strike--not wishing to act in the presence of bystanders and city guards who might interfere with his work. Hal coldly calculates his next move. He imagines himself pouncing on the trailing man from on high and cutting into his companions before incapacitating the Deva. He can almost hear the man's bones crushing under the weight of his steely exoskeleton, and the sound of his sword biting into the flesh of another. He wonders how the Deva will meet death. He has never killed Deva before. He tries to imagine the fading light in the humanoid's stark white eyes. Hal is ready to kill if he can, and wait if he must. [/COLOR] You follow the deva and the men following him. Approximately a quarter of a mile from the church, the deva turns into a side street, almost an alley. It is dark, and no one is around. The three men, who you are now sure are working together, turn to each other and nod, then follow him into the alleyway. Suddenly the deva stops moving, and you hear him laugh. It is a rich, warm sound; almost musical. He stops laughing, and says, "Here for the bounty, are you? Well, let's see what you've got." Just as you're about to leap, the three men draw their swords and rush the deva, teeth bared and snarling. He turns around and grabs the first man's sword by the blade with his bare hands, twisting it aside then ripping it from his grasp. Flipping it around to grasp it by the hilt, he turns the blade at the men. "Well, let's have it. What have you got?" The man whose sword was taken roars in anger and pulls a dagger from his boot, brandishing it at his opponent. You watch the battle unfolding underneath you. These men are trained well (though not as well as you, you note), but this deva is holding them off quite handily. You admire his style, watching his graceful moves as he swings the stolen blade around. You watch him disarm the men with ease, knocking their swords away. The three of them stagger and run, knowing that they are no match for this man. He tosses the sword to the ground, then turns his head upwards to look directly at you. "Would you like a go?" he asks, a smile playing at his lips. [COLOR="DarkRed"]Though still confident that the Deva couldn't possibly read his expression from so far away, let alone in the dark, Hal expertly masters his expression of surprise. [/COLOR] "Come on; you came for the bounty, too, didn't you? I'm sure you'll do better than they did." [COLOR="DarkRed"]"You are correct," Hal replies matter-of-factly. He drops nimbly from the ledge into the alley. "I have never hunted Deva. My anticipation is great." As the words leave his cowl his sword hisses upon leaving its sheath. His stance remains loose and his eyes burn from beneath the shallow hood of a simple cloak. He takes pause, mentally playing out the forthcoming duel in his mind and readying his body in kind. [Duelist's Prowess] [/COLOR] The deva's cape flutters behind him, the moonlight casting a silver hue over the two combatants in the alleyway. When the deva sees you more clearly, he chuckles. "A warforged, eh? Wouldn't that be interesting?" He assumes a light, agile stance and stares you down. "You get the first move." [COLOR="DarkRed"]Without hesitation, the warforged moves in on his opponent quickly with his sword trailing behind him. Without flourish, Hal swings wide with a rudimentary looking but nonetheless adept strike. He directs his swing low towards the thigh on the off chance that he might secure an early advantage over the dextrous Deva. [Riposte Strike] [/COLOR] Aris dodges backwards, but not fast enough to avoid the blade. It bites into his thigh, though not deeply. Pain and surprise flashes across his face. "So the pup has claws. Let's see if he can repeat the feat!" He wheels about, slightly favoring his left leg. "Try again!" [COLOR="DarkRed"]Feeling that the Deva has overplayed his hand, but still unwilling to tip his own, Hal follows up his basic assault with another quick strike. This time he crosses right, hoping to further maim his opponent and secure his victory. He slashes fiercely at the Aris' sword arm, trying to appear more confident than before. He carefully builds in his mind a stratagem founded on the martial deceptions and duplicities in his arsenal, fully expecting that the Deva could be doing the very same. [Riposte Strike] [/COLOR] Your sword slashes across his bicep, a glancing but painful blow. The deva grimaces, and grasps at the sword, trying to pull it away from you. You yank your blade from his grasp and slice at his arm again. He manages to avoid the blow, and says, "Quite impressive, friend! You've managed to draw blood twice now. I can't remember the last time someone did that. Maybe I should begin my own offense, eh?" With that, he dashes to the blade he disarmed the man of earlier, and in one quick motion rolls to the ground, picks it up, and stands again. Now armed himself, he turns toward you, blade held high. "Can you defend against this?" You feel a tingling sensation in the pit of your stomach, like dozens of eyes are suddenly being trained on you. As the feeling washes over you, the deva lunges at you. You don't recognize the style, but you lunge out of the way, striking once more at the man's arms. The blade cuts deeper this time, blood pulsing out of it. "Very good. Very, very good." The deva steps back from you and lowers his blade. "You are the best that I've seen in… years, probably. I think you'll do quite well. I think you should know that I am not Aris Danali. In fact, no deva by that name exists, or has ever existed." [COLOR="DarkRed"]Maintaining his loose stance, Hal mentally grapples with the new information given to him by his opponent. Though naturally suspicious of man he has freshly blooded in a dark alleyway, he begins to piece together the strange conduct of the blue humanoid appearing to stand in surrender before him. He reasons that this could be the deception he sensed in the Deva's actions, but decides to err on the side of caution. Feeling that he is well beyond the need for trepidation in combat, he resumes the dialogue between them. "If your words are as slow as your feet, Deva, you will find yourself cut down again in short order. Speak your mind." Hal delivers these words without prejudice, still communicating his sincerity with the wicked glow emanating from his eye sockets. [/COLOR]"You see, my associates and I have been looking for someone. Several people, actually. I was searching for a combat expert. A hunter. A warrior. An infiltrator. Someone like you. I figured that the most efficient way to find someone worthy was to put a fake bounty on my own head." He shrugs. "I wasn't really worried. Most of the guys so far have been real pushovers, unable to even scratch me. But you," he says, indicating his wounds, "have done an excellent job. I believe that you're the one we're looking for." [COLOR="DarkRed"]"And why should I believe that you're not just trying to save yourself, Deva?" Hal retorts. "If what you say is true, then you'll have wasted my time and frustrated my efforts, and if it is false, then I should like to complete my hunt and take your head as my prize." Clearly thinking deeply on his own words, the warforged weighs his options carefully before proceeding. "...I will trust you," Hal offers, lowering his weapon. "For now." Hal produces a small piece of cloth and wipes his weapon down quickly before placing it back in its sheath with a familiar hiss.[/COLOR] "Excellent," he says, throwing the borrowed blade back to the ground. "Though, it we're right, your time will definitely not have been a waste. Now come, we have a rail to catch!" He beckons at you, a friendly gesture, and begins to walk out of the alleyway. "Oh, by the way. The name is Reinhardt." [COLOR="DarkRed"]The warforged, having decided to run the Deva's gambit, follows Reinhardt at a short remove and begins speaking to him. "I am called Hal," he replies. "My full designation is Halcyon XR-17. But most humanoids prefer to call me Hal." He pauses shortly before continuing. "I have decided to trust you for now. But I have worked with humanoids before who betrayed my trust, and I was forced to destroy them. It gave me no satisfaction to do so. So I prefer to give you fair warning." "I will require more information from you as to what you and your associates will expect from me, and what I will be able to expect in return. I want to know who I will be working for. And I want to know who you are." Hal turns his head and gazes intently in Reinhardt's direction, rapt with curiosity. "I have never hunted Deva." [/COLOR] "Well, that's a disturbing comment. All I'm authorized to tell you is that this is an infiltration mission, and it is highly dangerous. And if everything goes to plan, you will save the Five Kingdoms." Still walking, Reinhardt turns the corner. "I can explain more once we reach our destination. Though my boss will probably beat me to the punch; he likes to be the one in charge; always leading the way." [COLOR="DarkRed"]"Very well. If your master has the answers that I seek, then I will go to him." [/COLOR] By the time you arrive at the rail station, it is quite late; well past when the last passenger rail is supposed to go through. But to your surprise, a short, 1 car rail is waiting in the terminal. Reinhardt steps in, then motions for you to join him. Once you are both inside, the lightning elemental sparks to life, and with a dull crackle of electricity, the cart jerks to life. During the ride, Reinhardt tries to start conversations with you, mostly small talk. "Where did you serve in the War," "Were you around in the Mourning," "Have you ever fought or hunted warforged before," and other such questions are asked of you during the ride. [COLOR="DarkRed"]As the two talk, Hal openly reveals facts about his past. He explains that he was created in a hidden forge inside Cyre, before the Day of Mourning. In that time he had spent as an instrument of war, he had killed dozens of people and warforged at the behest of his creators. He had become a cunning warrior and a skilled infiltrator. He had served his masters for less than a year before the mist came and destroyed the humanoids and corrupted the nation of Cyre. Hal survived the carnage and confusion, however, and made his way into obscurity and safety, as he was trained to do. And as he was made to do, he also continued to indulge in the hunt. He served as a mercenary and a bounty hunter in Breland, capturing and killing the scum of the realm. He made a little money and managed to pursue the closest thing that he could find that might deliver personal satisfaction. This lifestyle brought him to this point, riding the train with a defeated stranger to guilded prospects. [/COLOR] The conversation continues for several hours. You notice that while you are telling your story, Reinhardt keeps looking out of the window, watching the surroundings. After a while, he leans his head out the window, looking intently at the surroundings."Well, you sound perfect for what we need to do. And you will find out exactly what that is in just a... few... minutes." He leans back in and looks at you, and says, "Follow me." With that, he climbs up on the window ledge, and leaps out of the car into the dark forest. [COLOR="DarkRed"]Reading his movements, the warforged follows deftly behind Reinhardt, leaping into the trees just a second behind him. His feet hit the ground running as he takes in his surroundings in a heartbeat and tries to locate his companion. [/COLOR] You see Reinhardt jogging up to you. "Nice leap," he says. "Now, we have a bit of a walk ahead of us. Let's get going." Reinhardt starts to walk into the woods. It is dark, and the dense canopy cover makes it difficult for light to penetrate. As you walk, you notice the hoot of the owl, the rustle of the leaves in the wind, the night sounds of the forest. About two miles in, you come upon a large stone building. The thick granite walls look solid, seamless. Reinhardt says, "We'll, we're home. Now, there is a special key to get into the building. That key," he smirks, "is A-flat." And with that comment, he begins to hum a tune. After several bars, you recognize the sound of the Cyran national anthem. Suddenly, you hear a grinding of stone on stone emenating from the building, and a large section of the wall begins to slide inwards, then to the side. Inside you can see a long stone hallway with torches and braziers lighting the way. From your vantage point, you also see several doors made of a thick reddish wood on the walls. "Now, let's go in. It's time to meet your maker. And I mean that literally." [COLOR="DarkRed"]Confused and intrigued, Hal silently follows Reinhardt through the corridor. As they move forward he inwardly contemplates the meaning of the Deva's words, trying to anticipate what unthinkable surprises await him beyond one of the red wooden doors. Hal had long thought that the artificers who had made him were dead in the Mournland. He had never planned on a contingency like this one. He felt unprepared and off-balance, but exhilarated. [/COLOR] Reinhardt guides you through the hallway, passing the doors to the left and right of you by. He leads you about fifty feet in, where you come upon a hexagonal lift with a pillar in the center; similar to the kind found in Sharn, albeit smaller. Reinhardt presses the button on the lift, and with a grinding of stone, the lift begins to descend. After slowly lowering about twenty feet into the ground, you find yourself entering a large domed chamber filled with white lights. The walls are stone, the same type as the fort above you, but the floor is a polished black and green marble. You see several figures: 12 warforged, standing motionless in rank and file with a robed gnome standing next to them waving her fingers about; several humans standing about, one in overalls with a clipboard in hand, writing down notes, and another with a blue jacket and glasses standing next to him. However, what really catches your eye is the massive machine in the center of the room. A creation forge. [COLOR="DarkRed"]The sight of the creation forge causes Hal's eyes to light with surprise. He turns sharply to Reinhardt. "I know what this is," says Hal pointing to the forge. He looks to the 12 motionless warforged, eyeing them with intensity. "You are creating warforged." [/COLOR] "Hmm... yes, and no. It's more complicated than that. But I think I'll let our 'great leader' explain the finer details to you. Do you see that man in the worker's clothes? That is none other than Merrix d'Cannith, one of your kind's progenitors." Reinhardt's brow furrows. "I don't know the one standing next to him..." [COLOR="DarkRed"]"I am ready for answers," Hal replies. "Introduce us."[/COLOR] Reinhardt walks towards Merrix and the other human. Now that they are closer, you can see them in more detail. Merrix is an older man, probably in his forties or fifties, and he is wearing a jumpsuit, stained with years' worth of oil and grease. Despite his dress, he carries himself proudly, and emits a noble demeanor. The man next to him is scrawny and weak in comparison. His circular glasses are pushed high up, and he looks to be just as confused as you are, if not moreso. [/QUOTE]
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