[Eberron] The Forgotten Forge

Surprise. Confusion. How could it be a traitor? The nation it was supposed to be loyal to no longer existed, or so it had been told.

Concern. The other warforged had singled me out.
Only slowly did it dawn to Flawed that the other warforged saw other aspects as its treachery. Flesh-loving. Living among humans. Did that mean...?

And then it fell.

(OOC: Int check (or maybe Know-Arcane?) to see if Flawed knows about the LoB, once it regains conciousness ;))
 

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Plonk: The satchel feels slightly heavy, almost like a student's satchel -- you can feel paper rustling in it as you pick it up.

Gannon: You cast cure light wounds on the "smashed up" warforged (although they're both pretty smashed up, particularly the one Rawhide's working on). It takes, but you're pretty sure that it works better when you cast it on people [Cure light wounds, roll of 4 on 1d8+1, halved for warforged, heals 2 hp, raising Flawed to 0 hp].

Flawed: You regain "consciousness," but feel a little sluggish. You see the man carrying the morningstar, standing over you. A gnome and what looks like a human woman are a little farther away, and a feral shifter with a greataxe is currently going to town on the mangled corpse of the warforged that assaulted you. [Intelligence check, roll of 16 on d20, +2 Int, total 18] She said a lot about you being a "flesh-loving traitor," which jogs your memory a bit. You'd heard rumours of a Lord of Blades in the Mournland, some sort of warforged prophet or psychopath gathering your kind to him, but you weren't sure he existed.

Rawhide: After about 18 seconds, you finally calm down. You feel okay, if a wee bit tired. The warforged you were hacking at is pretty damn far from okay.

Plonk: Now that the shifter's calmed down, you take a look at the mangled warforged in front of him [Search check, roll of 13 on d20, +3 skilled, total 16]. You find a strange mark on her forehead, [Intelligence check, roll of 3 on d20, +2 Int, total 5] but don't know what it means or represents.

Everyone: At this point, three people -- two men and a woman -- dressed in the green and black studded leather jerkins of the City Watch arrive, their armor and cloaks drenched. One of the men, a stocky dwarf with a trim beard steps forward. He points his crossbow at you. The others, both human, stand behind him their halberds at the ready.

He sees the corpse and sighs. "Olladra's bloody nose." He looks at the group of you, sizing you up. "I think you'd best be explaining what's gone on here, or we'll be having a much more private conversation. And don't bother lying. You won't get it past me. I'm a pretty good liar myself." He grins, a wolf in dwarf's clothing.
 
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As the dwarf appears and begins speaking, Rawhide sags to his knees and then slowly sits atop the mangled mass that was once a warforged. Heedless of anything that is said (at least for the moment), the shifter begins picking through the remenants of the body, sniffing and tasteing various parts that catch his eye.

OOC: Rawhide will want to take a bit of his enemy with him, if possible, as a trophy. He won't cause a stir or a fight over it, however, but if he can pick something up and take it along, he will do so.
 

Gannon looks at the beastman, as he picks his way through the remnants of the dead warforged. He then turns to face the newly arrived city guard and quickly puts his morningstar away. He's not looking for trouble with authorities. He may be a bit of rebel, but he's not stupid. "Good evening, my good dwarf. I'm glad someone alerted the city watch, because this could possibly have turned a lot more ugly than just this. On my way to Morgrave University, I saw this person (points to the dead man) slump to the ground while this warforged (points to the heap of broken metal that was once the warforged) was escaping from the scene of the crime that it obviously comitted. I came to investigate and then more people started showing up and helping me with fighting off the murderer. That is really all there is to it."
 

"Stonebrother," says Plonk. "It is as the good cleric said."
Plonk makes a mental note of the mark of the fallen Warforged. Plonk is eager to find out what's on that piece of paper in the satchel. Perhaps it is the clue to unravelling this strange case...
 

(OOC - I believe I lost my casting of Repair Light Damage, right?)
As Flawed stands up, with the unusual sensation that the healing spell has left, it thanks the man with the morning star, as it seems that it has been him who "repaired" some of the damage Flawed had suffered.
Seeing the shifter picking and sniffing through the remains of the other warforged, Flawed wonders if he is looking for food, and considers telling the shifter that he won't find anything edible in the heap, but decides that speaking with the city watch is more important. Still not back from "unconciousness", it speaks only in short sentences.

"As the man said, sir. I saw the scene after my training session. Some person on the ground - this one. Another seemingly jumping off the bridge - actually the other warforged climbed off. We investigated the scene - and then it attacked us."
 

MadMaxim said:
Gannon looks at the beastman, as he picks his way through the remnants of the dead warforged.

Rawhide growls slightly at Gannon around a half-chewed fragment of warforged forearm, but otherwise makes no move...
 

Rawhide: You find a couple of gears inside the warforged's chest that could make a nice trophy. They're a darkish metal and give off a nice shine when they catch the light from the nearby everbright lanterns.

Everyone: As you stand there, a small crowd begins to gather around, attracted by the Watch's whistles and the end of the previous combat. One of them, a middle-aged human woman with a child hugging her legs steps forward, "I live over there," she points at the window up a story or two on Delannan Tower, "and I saw this beastly warforged," she points to Rawhide's improvised seat, "attack that one. I can't speak for the rest of their story, but they were attacked."

The dwarf thanks her and pauses to think, or at least to look thoughtful [Diplomacy check, +4 circumstance bonus]. He sighs. "Fair enough. I've heard weirder stories, and yours has at least the ring of truth to it. Or you're excellent liars." He looks at you skeptically for a second. "In any case, you need to be leaving this sort of stuff to the Watch. Now, if you'll go about your business, we're going to need to take these bodies with us." The dwarf looks at Rawhide. "If you'll excuse us, we need to take a look at that." He looks wary of asking the shifter too much or asking it too curtly.

OOC for Knight Otu: Nope. Spellcasters retain any spells that they had prepared before falling unconscious ("Disabled," PHB 145).
 
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"We do not lie as good as you would stonebrother," says Plonk without thinking. "I mean, we really aren't good liars. Besides the warforged are not built to lie."

Plonk waits to see what Rawhide to do. He notes the expression on the dwarf's face. Like asking a bulldog to return a bone, or at least a nice cut of meat.
 

Rawhide reaches into the bowels of the warforged and rips out a long piece of wire, slipping the cogs on it, he quickly loops it around his wrist. He then springs off of the pile of hacked metal and lands nearby, watching those around him with intense, wild eyes...
 

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