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EBERRON 3.5 FOR HIRE
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<blockquote data-quote="megamania" data-source="post: 7975827" data-attributes="member: 9255"><p>EBERRON: FOR HIRE</p><p>SEGMENT 008</p><p>“GRAND TREE BRANCH”</p><p>4/25/20</p><p></p><p>DRAVAGO 18, 1000</p><p></p><p>“I was built for Breland and fought for them though I did not like it.” The warforged answers Silverwing’s question.</p><p></p><p>“Why not?” She asks with true interest and curiosity.</p><p></p><p>“On the battlefield I saw many of my kind turn to pieces and burnt by magic. Others damaged from weapons and construct weapons. They lived but the spark was dying.”</p><p></p><p>“No healers or artificers?”</p><p></p><p>Gyor doesn’t answer.</p><p></p><p>“Healers were reserved for the living. Artificers, unless they were Cannith, were targeted on the battlefield. Even with the protection of the Dragonmarked, “accidents” happened.” The gnome answers with regret and sorrow. “It is why he has come to learn a few tricks of the artificers. He is a healer- of his own kind. It is to be respected and honored.” Replies the gnome.</p><p></p><p>“With a name of Gyor…..”</p><p></p><p>“A cruel joke I am afraid.”</p><p></p><p>“BRE-934 was my original given name.”</p><p></p><p>“Gyor works.” Answers Silverwing uncertain if she likes either. “And what of you Sir Knight of the Peaks?”</p><p></p><p>“Knight of the Krona Peaks.” Corrects the gnome. “Is another story. As for who I am- we are entering my home, Grand Tree Branch, it defines me more than any given name.” The gnome answers with a smile.</p><p></p><p>Silver has seen similar towns before- especially in Cyre. Farms surround the town. The town itself has homes, mills, stores, one or two schools, a few temples and being Cyre- something to represent the arts.</p><p></p><p>“And this is the Hadly Theater. Several times a year either the elves would come by and do a play or show. Sometimes we did ourselves. It was…. A happier time.”</p><p></p><p>They continue on towards the far end of the town. On a hillside, they see a temple to the Silver Flame. Though it doesn’t fall under the beliefs of The Sovereign Host, it saddens him to see the once proud temple look dark and grey under the mists. In the mid-day sun it once shown bright and clear.</p><p></p><p>“You said it was the Wayfinder’s place? Asks again the gnome.</p><p></p><p>“Yes. Like the adventure club.”</p><p></p><p>“I would not call Boroman’s organization a “club” my Lady.”</p><p></p><p>“Have you ever met the halfling?” She asks.</p><p></p><p>“No. I have not.”</p><p></p><p>“I have. He is not as much of a hero as his books make him out to be.”</p><p></p><p>“Our heroes rarely are as we wish in real life.” The gnome replies. “It is just down this road.”</p><p></p><p>The three of them walk over to a large one story building made of wood and stone. The street seems slightly broken up and every twenty feet there is a grate to the sewers below.</p><p></p><p>“Ever been inside?” she asks the gnome.</p><p></p><p>“No. I wanted to but my father discouraged it. Uncle Urik had always promised to take me. Sadly, he never did.” Replies the gnome with sadness in his eyes.</p><p></p><p>Gyor tries the door. Locked.</p><p></p><p>Gali can just look into a nearby window and does. It is dark inside. He can see crates, barrels, shelves and various nick-knacks. Nothing too impressive.</p><p></p><p> Using his halberd, the warforged tries to force the lock and only scratches it. He pauses in frustration and tries again. There is a very loud grinding and squealing sound made with metal on metal. No one ever wonders why no one has broken into this place in the past 5+ years.</p><p></p><p>Frustrated with the lock, he now instead pushes in with the halberd. He forces the lock and metal brace in breaking very loudly the wood doors. He steps back and allows Silverwing to look in. She sees a pile of crates and some barrels near the door but nothing else. She shoves the damaged door in and the metal hinges squeal loudy. The gnome looks over at them from the window. “Trying to awaken the dead?” The gnome smiles at his joke.</p><p></p><p>She steps in and goes to the closest stack and begins to search through them. The warforged waits for the gnome as the gnome has caste an innate spell. Small globes of light illuminate the building. “It’s more of a store than a Wayfinder station.” he comments.</p><p></p><p>Then he stops. “Did you hear something?” he asks the warforged.</p><p></p><p>“Moans.”</p><p></p><p>“And the moans are coming from nearby.” He slowly turns from the window expecting an undead spirit to be there. Nothing.</p><p></p><p>“You did hear that?”</p><p></p><p>Inside, Silverwing has also heard something nearby but from within the building. Rattling and shifting of objects. Then she hears the gnome and turns to look out the doors where the warforged has moved into a defensive position.</p><p></p><p>A sewer cover clunks. Then another. “By a dwarf’s beard- “ His detect evil is alarmingly bright as a slender greyish-green arm lifts and slides over a cover. Then another. “Undead !” At this point something falls and then strikes the legs of the winged elf. She turns and it is a barrel marked “pickles”.</p><p></p><p>Dozens of ghouls rise from the openings in the street. Sir Ryner grips his symbol and raises it into the air. “Return to the ground you rose vile creatures. The Host demands it!” Many shriek and withdraw. One holds its ground and growls at him.</p><p></p><p>Silverwing pushes the barrel away in annoyance then suddenly it stops and rolls back at her and strikes her again. This time she pulls a weapon and as it comes at her again she dashes it. A nasty smell of pickle juice spills out. Then a crate topples from another pile. The damned stuff is animated!</p><p></p><p>The undead crowd into two groups standing at the ends of the building on the street near the sewer entrances. “I have them held back. Please do hurry My Lady !”calls out the gnome paladin.</p><p></p><p>She kicks at the crate to hold it back then strikes it with her mace. The wooden pieces break apart smoldering. She around a corner where two sets of shelves stand; one on either side. She tries to quickly look through the many titles of the books, journals and collected Chronicles. Suddenly one book falls to the floor. As it falls, it spits out pages that attach to her body including covering her face. She can not see nor breath.</p><p></p><p>From within one of the groups of ghouls a beam of light lashes out and explodes at the entrance of the building. “Spellcaster!” exclaims the gnome whom hurries to the doorway. The warforged stomps out some of the flames on the ground and bits of splintered wood. “Take cover Gyor!”</p><p></p><p>As they enter the building the two groups of ghouls inch closer themselves. The paladin’s powers of faith have kept them from advancing or in some cases destroyed them out right. Except for their mage and leader.</p><p></p><p>“Gyor- close the door and grab that bar.” Sir Ryner has spotted a means to lock the door from the inside. A simple drop bar made of thick wood.</p><p></p><p>Ripping the paper from her face, Silverwing discovers a suit of animated armor clunking at her. Gyor steps up to her wondering how this is happening. A Brazier on three legs walks at them. Its coals ignite and then it charges. Using his halberd, Gyor easily destroys it. Two chests and two candles come next. Meanwhile the ghouls claw at the door. One reaches in through the hole where the lock once was and the paladin strikes it. It howls and withdraws its hand.</p><p></p><p>Finally past the shelves they are now attacked by a statue of a nymph. Around her neck hangs a red and black scroll case on a chain. Silverwing reaches out and grabs it but can not break the chain. So Gyor breaks the animated statue. “Got it!” </p><p></p><p>Much of the next few hours are spent destroying a few animated items and waiting for the ghouls to withdraw. They do.</p><p></p><p>Carefully they sneak out of the building being careful not to cause any noise that may alert the ghouls below and hurry away.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="megamania, post: 7975827, member: 9255"] EBERRON: FOR HIRE SEGMENT 008 “GRAND TREE BRANCH” 4/25/20 DRAVAGO 18, 1000 “I was built for Breland and fought for them though I did not like it.” The warforged answers Silverwing’s question. “Why not?” She asks with true interest and curiosity. “On the battlefield I saw many of my kind turn to pieces and burnt by magic. Others damaged from weapons and construct weapons. They lived but the spark was dying.” “No healers or artificers?” Gyor doesn’t answer. “Healers were reserved for the living. Artificers, unless they were Cannith, were targeted on the battlefield. Even with the protection of the Dragonmarked, “accidents” happened.” The gnome answers with regret and sorrow. “It is why he has come to learn a few tricks of the artificers. He is a healer- of his own kind. It is to be respected and honored.” Replies the gnome. “With a name of Gyor…..” “A cruel joke I am afraid.” “BRE-934 was my original given name.” “Gyor works.” Answers Silverwing uncertain if she likes either. “And what of you Sir Knight of the Peaks?” “Knight of the Krona Peaks.” Corrects the gnome. “Is another story. As for who I am- we are entering my home, Grand Tree Branch, it defines me more than any given name.” The gnome answers with a smile. Silver has seen similar towns before- especially in Cyre. Farms surround the town. The town itself has homes, mills, stores, one or two schools, a few temples and being Cyre- something to represent the arts. “And this is the Hadly Theater. Several times a year either the elves would come by and do a play or show. Sometimes we did ourselves. It was…. A happier time.” They continue on towards the far end of the town. On a hillside, they see a temple to the Silver Flame. Though it doesn’t fall under the beliefs of The Sovereign Host, it saddens him to see the once proud temple look dark and grey under the mists. In the mid-day sun it once shown bright and clear. “You said it was the Wayfinder’s place? Asks again the gnome. “Yes. Like the adventure club.” “I would not call Boroman’s organization a “club” my Lady.” “Have you ever met the halfling?” She asks. “No. I have not.” “I have. He is not as much of a hero as his books make him out to be.” “Our heroes rarely are as we wish in real life.” The gnome replies. “It is just down this road.” The three of them walk over to a large one story building made of wood and stone. The street seems slightly broken up and every twenty feet there is a grate to the sewers below. “Ever been inside?” she asks the gnome. “No. I wanted to but my father discouraged it. Uncle Urik had always promised to take me. Sadly, he never did.” Replies the gnome with sadness in his eyes. Gyor tries the door. Locked. Gali can just look into a nearby window and does. It is dark inside. He can see crates, barrels, shelves and various nick-knacks. Nothing too impressive. Using his halberd, the warforged tries to force the lock and only scratches it. He pauses in frustration and tries again. There is a very loud grinding and squealing sound made with metal on metal. No one ever wonders why no one has broken into this place in the past 5+ years. Frustrated with the lock, he now instead pushes in with the halberd. He forces the lock and metal brace in breaking very loudly the wood doors. He steps back and allows Silverwing to look in. She sees a pile of crates and some barrels near the door but nothing else. She shoves the damaged door in and the metal hinges squeal loudy. The gnome looks over at them from the window. “Trying to awaken the dead?” The gnome smiles at his joke. She steps in and goes to the closest stack and begins to search through them. The warforged waits for the gnome as the gnome has caste an innate spell. Small globes of light illuminate the building. “It’s more of a store than a Wayfinder station.” he comments. Then he stops. “Did you hear something?” he asks the warforged. “Moans.” “And the moans are coming from nearby.” He slowly turns from the window expecting an undead spirit to be there. Nothing. “You did hear that?” Inside, Silverwing has also heard something nearby but from within the building. Rattling and shifting of objects. Then she hears the gnome and turns to look out the doors where the warforged has moved into a defensive position. A sewer cover clunks. Then another. “By a dwarf’s beard- “ His detect evil is alarmingly bright as a slender greyish-green arm lifts and slides over a cover. Then another. “Undead !” At this point something falls and then strikes the legs of the winged elf. She turns and it is a barrel marked “pickles”. Dozens of ghouls rise from the openings in the street. Sir Ryner grips his symbol and raises it into the air. “Return to the ground you rose vile creatures. The Host demands it!” Many shriek and withdraw. One holds its ground and growls at him. Silverwing pushes the barrel away in annoyance then suddenly it stops and rolls back at her and strikes her again. This time she pulls a weapon and as it comes at her again she dashes it. A nasty smell of pickle juice spills out. Then a crate topples from another pile. The damned stuff is animated! The undead crowd into two groups standing at the ends of the building on the street near the sewer entrances. “I have them held back. Please do hurry My Lady !”calls out the gnome paladin. She kicks at the crate to hold it back then strikes it with her mace. The wooden pieces break apart smoldering. She around a corner where two sets of shelves stand; one on either side. She tries to quickly look through the many titles of the books, journals and collected Chronicles. Suddenly one book falls to the floor. As it falls, it spits out pages that attach to her body including covering her face. She can not see nor breath. From within one of the groups of ghouls a beam of light lashes out and explodes at the entrance of the building. “Spellcaster!” exclaims the gnome whom hurries to the doorway. The warforged stomps out some of the flames on the ground and bits of splintered wood. “Take cover Gyor!” As they enter the building the two groups of ghouls inch closer themselves. The paladin’s powers of faith have kept them from advancing or in some cases destroyed them out right. Except for their mage and leader. “Gyor- close the door and grab that bar.” Sir Ryner has spotted a means to lock the door from the inside. A simple drop bar made of thick wood. Ripping the paper from her face, Silverwing discovers a suit of animated armor clunking at her. Gyor steps up to her wondering how this is happening. A Brazier on three legs walks at them. Its coals ignite and then it charges. Using his halberd, Gyor easily destroys it. Two chests and two candles come next. Meanwhile the ghouls claw at the door. One reaches in through the hole where the lock once was and the paladin strikes it. It howls and withdraws its hand. Finally past the shelves they are now attacked by a statue of a nymph. Around her neck hangs a red and black scroll case on a chain. Silverwing reaches out and grabs it but can not break the chain. So Gyor breaks the animated statue. “Got it!” Much of the next few hours are spent destroying a few animated items and waiting for the ghouls to withdraw. They do. Carefully they sneak out of the building being careful not to cause any noise that may alert the ghouls below and hurry away. [/QUOTE]
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