Clockwork, Steam & Sorcery

[loxmyth]

The group decides to split into two groups: Forge and Linda heading for city hall while the rest head to Rooksbridge.

After a half hour of walking from Ravenscraig to the edge of Crowngate via the cobbled Royal Way Road, the Enchanter and Druid stand outside the hallowed white-washed walls of city hall. Huge wooden doors have been swung open and a pair of city guards flank the entrance, breastplates gleaming burnished silver and the white plume of their helmets a contrast to their dark cloaks. They stand dutifully, hands resting on their scabbarded longswords as they watch the passersby. City hall itself is an elegant five storied building with a slanted, red-shingled roof. Over the door and in regular recesses about the building stood statues of a winged woman with flowing hair and a youthful expression - a representation of Arcos, the goddess the city took its name from.

Inside, two long couches sit facing a large desk, behind which is an old elven crone, silvered hair elaborately done up in a beehive. Her eyes seemed colourless, they were such a light hue. Several people wait patiently on the couches, including one that Forge recognized - his cousin, Travar.

The young dwarf looked quite the opposite of his elder and more respectable cousin; shorter and more compact, and his hair was a very light blonde. Thick eyebrows hid his eyes, but Forge could see that Travar was scowling at his appearance. "Whut are you doing here, cousing?" he asked, accusingly.

The elven woman stood and smoothed out her lilac dress, giving the newly arrived pair a warm smile. "Welcome to Arcosia City Hall," she said sweetly. "How may I help you today?"

~

The journey to Rooksbridge was uneventful. The thatched and shingled roofs of Ravenscraig soon gave way to the thick smokestacks and massive chimnies that were the trademark of the industrial district. On the streets, merchants peddled their wares in a sing-song lyrical way: "Get your clocks here! Clocks for sale!"
"...Music in a box!"
"...Hey-ho, listen to me! This clockwork bird has the nicest song, don't you agree?"
... and so on. Grubby street urchins weave their way through the crowded streets and city guards on horseback patrol lazily. Looming over all are two large black clocktowers that poke into a muddy haze that seems to cover Rooksbridge at all times.

It is not hard to find the deceased Clockmaker's house: a few questions here and there by Phowett lead the group straight to it. The place is a two-storied hut that is sandwiched between two larger buildings. It apparently doubled as the gnome's shop: big letters in both common and gnomish proclaim that this place to be "Philander's Clockwork", and in the single large window in the front displays a variety of the man's handiwork.

The side street on which the shop is located is only lightly populated with men and women going about their business.

 

[Argent Silvermage]

Forge looks at Linda and asks, I appologise but could you discuss what we need with the ancient one? I must find out what my father's sister's Son is doing here before he has a chance to do it. Forge bows to the Elf Your Pardon My Lady. and turns to Travar.
Travar. What are you doing here? Waiting to be imprisoned? Forge looks at his cousin with a mixture of mirth and concern. Gears never takes his eyes off the Elf and Linda.

 

[loxmyth]

Travar tugged at his braided blonde beard, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. "I could eas'ly ask you the same, cousing." Lifting a small pouch from his lap which clinked with the sound of coins, he stood up. He motioned to Linda. "You spend too much time with the limp-wristed pansy-eaters, ya know. When're you going to learn how to be a real Dwarf? Look at you, with your blue dress and your 'cultured speak'. My mother's brother must be so disappointed."

Travar made to turn, his heavy brown leather boots ringing on the grey and white marble floors, his black woolen cape twirling behind him.

 

[Krug]

Linda speaks to the elven woman. We've come to ask about a certain prisoner. We wonder if we can look at the evidence for his case.

She replies to Travar. Call me a pansy eater and I'll get some squirrels to eat your face!

 

[Sixchan]

Larina looks at the house of the Clockmaker. "Well, I guess we'll just go on in, then. Come on, Froud." She goes inside.

 

[Argent Silvermage]

Forge steps on the end of Travar's cape making him stop (hopefuly) You haven't answered my question. What are you doing here? Forge has little concern of what his lesser cousin thinks of him. However since he is an Ironsong his actions reflect directly on the clan.

 

[arwel]

Elias pauses and sighs, attempting to convey an aloof disinterest in the proceedings. Unfortunatley his true feelings are betrayed and he quickly follows Larina inside, eager to begin this amusing diversion. "Hello? Anybody home?", he says as he steps through the door.

 

[Uriel]

Froud accompanies the young Larina, wondering what sort of questions she would ask.
This was all very exciting, though the young Mechanist was saddened by the Clockmaker's Death, all the inventions that he had yet to create, to finish...Shaking these morose thoughts from his head, Froud smiles and enters the house.

 

[loxmyth]

The old elvish woman stared at Linda for a few moments before cocking her head to one side in puzzlement. "I'm sorry, young lady, but why would you think that the city hall would keep evidence on any case? And if we did that we would show it to just anyone from off the streets?" She regains her smile, skin pearly and almost translucent. "If you are interested in seeing a trial, there are... two, I believe, scheduled for today. Do you know where the Halls of Justice are? I can write you some directions if you'd like?"

Linda recalled that the Justice Halls are located on the edge of Swanbridge, at the corner of Old Court Avenue.

Travar growled as his movement is arrested, due to his cape being caught under Forge's foot.
"What is it to you?" he asked, trying to squirm his way from the wizard's grasp. "I am doing some research for my Politics class." Almost before Travar was even finished, Forge knew he was lying. Travar always tugged his ear whenever he fibbed, and if that wasn't enough, Travar had never taken an interest in Politics. His mother had often complained about it.

But now the young dwarf pulled himself from his cousin's grasp. Forge may have been the taller, but Travar was by far the stronger. Taking care to gather his cape this time, Travar strode to the door.

~

Larina, Elias and Froud stepped inside while Phowett and James stayed at the door, unsure whether to follow. Though the place seemed smaller outside, the front room that served as a storefront was full of mechanical clocks of a multitude of shapes and sizes. Usually, they'd be arranged on sturdy wooden shelves, but currently these were all knocked askew, dumping their contents to the ground. In the center of the room stood three figures before a small flickering fire.

The first to turn to them was an Elf of medium height, crimson hooded cloak thrown back to reveal rosy-pink hair and large copper eyes. His skin was very fair, and his cheeks were coloured with violet face paint.

Beside him was muscular human, whose brown hair was tied back in a white-ribboned braid that went halfway down his back. Grey eyes glared at the newcomers from an earthen hued face. A large scarred hand was already reaching across his boiled leather shirt for the sword at his side.

The final figure had the diminutive stature and face of a halfling, with thick curly black locks crowning his head and cool blue eyes. He took a step back in surprise, almost tripping over his dark green cloak before regaining his bearings.

 

[Sixchan]

Knowing that a sword is not a good thing in a conversation, Larina attempts to disarm the large man with a wave and a smile. "Hi! I'm Larina, and this is Froud, and we're investigating the recent murders that have been happening around the city. We were wondering if we could ask you a few questions about Philander?"