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[IC] Eberron: The Plumbers



Lower Northedge/North Market/Discreet Investigation and Security Services
Far, 27 Rhaan, YK 998 (Early autumn)
Weather: Temperature normal for the season (cool), no wind, light rain

Fenic stood on the ladder leaned against the building in Northedge Market across the street from The Horse and Hearth, the House Ghallanda inn. The new location was good. It would provide free advertising to all the visitors to the district that used the Horse and Hearth.

The male city goblin eyed the sign critically.

Liutbrand Torrn d’Tharask and Co., Inquisitives for Hire
Reasonable Rates. Inquire Within.

Fenic leaned in and blew on the new golden signet of the Finder’s Guild that hung below the sign, acknowledging their quality of service. He polished it off with his sleeve and smiled proudly before climbing down and taking down the ladder. Taking it inside, he put it away in the closet, then adjusted the hanging of the framed Sharn Inquisitive article that hung prominently on the wall: PLUMBERS’ SOLVE BAFFLING OIL THEFTS.

Straightening his vest and cravat, Fenic went to the canteen in back where the kettle was whistling. He prepared the blackroot tal in the kettle and let it steep, putting it onto a tray with six cups and a pot of honey before carrying it into the board room and setting it onto the table. He returned to the canteen and retrieved two small baskets. One held ashi, a thick, golden flatbread from the Shadow Marches. Master Liutbrand liked it with a little honey on top. The other held sweet cremfel, a sweet bread pastry and an Aundairian treat for Lady ir’Etrielle.

Satisfied everything was in order for the late afternoon debrief, Fenic dusted his hands of cinnamon, licked off a bit of icing, and returned to his desk in the front office. He slipped on a pair of spectacles and pulled out yesterday’s expense reports. He flipped through them and sighed, then dashed off a quick note to remind Korra -- yet again! -- that she needs to keep her receipts and turn them in so they can be charged to the clients! He slapped it down on Korra’s note-sticker, expertly avoiding impaling his hand.

Feel free to have your characters assemble for the end of day progress reports, have a treat. Write a little about the case your character is working on, and take an Inspiration.
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the magical equivalent to the number zero
Ogham watches the goblin Fenic from across the street. Sitting outside The Horse And Hearth with his mace and shield within easy reach against the wall, the warforged looks a bit rusty despite the green glow from beneath his plating.

Unsure if Fenic spotted him, Ogham turns his attention back to the two cats that are purring and rubbing up against his legs. He gently strokes the large red cat, and then the slightly smaller black one as it pushes the more timid ginger out of the way.

Cats never came to him before, but since the Mourning... They purr and vibrate in his lap when given the chance - and often when no chance is given, too! - and they always give Ogham some relief from his worrying and working.

That the network of felines, rodents and birds make for a great source of information about the city’s goings-on, well, that is just extra.

The warforged suddenly looks up. It’s time for the day’s debrief, and Ogham is always on time. He stands up, much to the cats’ chagrin, checks the ledge of the building next to the inn for messages from the rat he calls Rombart but not finding anything, grabs his weapon and shield, and makes his way over to headquarters.

Passing Fenic with a nod, the warforged moves straight to the board room. He places a bit of bread right in front of the mouse’s den behind the closet in the cornet, opens the closet to take out a piece of cloth, and sits down on one of the chairs. Then he meticulously wipes the moist from the rain from his metal plates - the wooden fibers seem to appreciate the water, so he stays away from those - and then starts at the ever-increasing amount of rust.


Liutbrand stood at his desk, trying to make some sense of the piles of documents in front of him. Bureaucracy, the city folks call it. Who would've thought? Liutbrand finally found something scarier than the beasts roaming the Shadow Marches at night. He rubbed his tired eyes. Maybe he could pawn all this paperwork on someone else. Perhaps the Aundarian lady could...

A gentle knock on the door woke him up from his thoughts. Of course, it's time for midday tal. Liutbrand's eyes wandered on a box of Droaami hand rolled cigars, a gift from Nalas Rilard. The oil theft case. Without that case, this agency probably wouldn't have gotten off the ground, and Liutbrand would still be roaming the countryside, acting as a glorified mailman for house Torrn. A menial task, to be sure, but at least couriers don't have to deal with all this paperwork.

Liutbrand decided to put an end to this train of thought. The agency had been dealing with small, minor cases since the oil theft one. Maybe it was time to visit Madame Vishara again, but for now, it was tal time.


Possibly a Idiot.
Rotom was at her workbench, stooped over some arcane contraption with more than a bit of soot covering her red-scaled face. She rises from her work deliberately with a click of her tongue, her hand finding a bottle nearby as she takes a moment think with the drink. A strange machine it was, it was almost as if...

Rotom, pulls out a piece of paper, and rubs the device against it, leaving a tell-tale mark. Then she scrambles for a pen:

To the esteemed Ms Redeker,

The device you have provided for investigation is most clever indeed. You were right to assume it was the tool used to bypass the security screening at your casino. While your bouncers are trained to use the detection crystals for the obvious illusions, conjurations, charms, and transmutations, this device uses a bit of lead to shield itself from basic divinations, and form of necromancy to animate itself for some good old fashioned skulking. As such, it wouldn't have been possible for your crystals to pick it up. Whomever designed it has a working knowledge of your operations, and access to some novel necromancy spells, possibly of Vol or Karrnathi origin.


Discreet Investigation and Security Services

Pleased with herself, she takes a look around her workshop and notices the clock on the wall. Then, in a bit of a rush she takes a towel to the dust on her face and scampers into the meeting room, letter in hand.


Finding the corruption, that was the rest of the teams' job. when it came time to trace the pipe, that was the job for DePoe. Small, wiry, and sneaky; He was perfect for the job. DePoe had yet to get used to the idea of having a factor. It was weird having someone who trusted you to do what they wanted and would pay you to do it.
It was doubly weird having more than a few coppers to rub together.
So, when Fenic had told him to root out the fence who'd been moving the oils AND offered him the princely sum of 2 gold to do it, DePoe had been happy to oblige.
It'd taken several days of rooting around the underbelly of Sharn to find the fence. A fat man who'd called himself Origar Mince (who knew if that was his real name). DePoe had taken his time and been exceedingly careful in locating him and spent at least a day verifying he was the man through whom the Oils had flowed.
Fenic was happy with the information (it was bad form to murder someone without cause, not to mention a good way to get yourself sent to the lava fields), without proper authorization. So, DePoe had merely passed along the name and location of the fence, as he'd been requested.
Two gold pieces in his money pouch felt good but, he'd quickly hidden it away in a secret hiding-hole deep in the sewers where he was pretty sure only he would ever find it.
Then Fenic had gotten a message to him to meet him at House Ghallanda inn . It was in Lower Northedge, which DePoe tended to avoid, as the residents were very tight with their change purses and their baked goods, which were a particular treat. But, the promise of another pair of gold coins was tough to pass up.
Taking a circuitous route, crossing over and under bridges and doubling back on himself many times to make sure he'd not been followed was, likely, not really necessary but WAS a good habit, especially for one of the unwashed, like Depoe.
The House Ghallanda inn was imposing and DePoe could immediately tell that Fenric was here, as he could smell the awful brew that Fenric always drank. It smelled boiled rat to DePoe.
Fenic was outside putting up a poster of some kind. He looked briefly at it and then darted across the open space and into the welcome interior.

"Do you have to go?" The human woman asked.

"Me busy, today," Korra said putting on her armor. "I see you again soon if I can." Korra checked her bag and pack before leaving a small pouch on the dresser.

The afternoon sun reached the streets of Sharn far better than any morning sunlight did. Korra cut across a few blocks looking for the Ty's Smythy. The urchin she had followed the past two days visited the back door to the smith several times so there was something going on there. She decided it was time to go into the smithy.

"Good day," the smith said. "What can I do for a strong lady such as yourself?"

"Are you Ty? Some say you have jewelry," Korra said. "Perhaps I buy some." Korra's hand fondled a heavy looking pouch on her belt.

The smith nods as he looks her over trying to decide if she could afford his wares. "In back," he finally said. He led her to an office where he opened the draw to his desk and pulled out a flat box made of expensive wood. Opening it, he said, "The necklace is probably too much even for you. But the ring with the ruby isn't too expensive."

"Not sure ruby my color. How much?"

"800 gold."

"No, if spend 800 gold, want something less red."

"How about the bracelet? 600 gold. The three charms that hang from it are worth that much by themselves."

"No. Not interested. Maybe come back you have different items."

"Yes, give me a few weeks and I'm sure I'll have some stuff more to your liking. What should I look out for?"

"Sapphire. Emerald. Bet the look nice against skin."

"I bet they would."


After a quick meal, Korra headed back to the agency. Fenic sat at the desk as usual as she entered. "Ty's Smythy has lost bracelet. Sell it for 600 gold."

"You didn't retrieve it."

"Not have gold. And smith have three apprentices. Big sturdy boys. Not going to fight for jewelry can't keep."

Korra picked up the note on her pin. "Informants not give receipts, Fenic. Owe me 25 gold for finding Ty's."


Alara moved quickly up the street, slipping around the small crowd that was just leaving the House Ghallanda inn and under the striking new sign. She was not quite late, she reassured herself as she stepped into the firm's offices, but she had cut it very close. Well, that was fine. Even if she had been late, it would have been better than showing up to the meeting in what remained of her aristocratic wardrobe. This was not an audience that would be impressed by such things, even if the gown had been up to par.

She strolled up to Fenic's desk. The goblin looked up and gave her a polite nod of the head. "Success?" he asked.

"Not really," she said, slipping the carefully rolled parchment from under her tunic and passing it to the goblin. "Bank draft."

The goblin frowned in confusion. "That's good, isn't it?"

Alara gestured to the document. "It won't be," she sighed.

She'd thought the job might actually pay out two days ago, when she had brought the elderly aristocratic couple's missing jewlery back to them and reported that their maid was already in the custody of the Watch. But word had leaked to Kundarak about the recovery of valuables, and a House agent had paid the pair a visit before nightfall the same day. He had left, Alara knew, with both the goods and the firm's only realistic chance of getting paid.

Torn had insisted she pay the couple a visit, hoping they might pay up if pressured. And Alara had done as he'd asked, even donning her remaining fine clothing in hopes that they would be embarrassed enough in front of another noble to conjure something up. But it had simply been a pathetic scene with the three of them sitting in faded finery, drinking weak tea from chipped cups in a house whose furnishings had already been stripped of anything saleable. They'd known her for a fallen aristocrat just as surely as she'd known them. In the end, she accepted the bank draft she knew to be worthless just because she could not bring herself to humiliate the couple still further.

The aristocracy is dying, she reflected yet again. And what will replace it? The bloodless, honorless commercial oligarchies of the Dragonmarked Houses? The irony of having that thought in an office run by a Tharashk scion was not lost on her.

The wizard noted the familiar box in the neighboring room. "You brought cremfel?" She asked. The goblin nodded. "Thank you, Fenic," she offered sincerely.

Alara slipped into the neighboring room, greeting her colleagues politely as she helped herself to a cup of tal and a pastry, intent of cleansing her palette of the taste of musty tea and despair.


Lower Northedge/North Market/Discreet Investigation and Security Services
Far, 27 Rhaan, YK 998 (Early autumn)/1700
Weather: Temperature normal for the season (cool), no wind, light rain (outside the towers)

Fenic looked up as Ogham walked in. “Remember to turn in your receipts,” the fastidious goblin said automatically, then noting the wet warforged, “What did you do, sit under a bucket? Don’t drip on the new carpets!”

Liutbrand came out of his office. “Tal is set up in the conference room, boss,” Fenic said.

The goblin took the letter from Rotom. “I’ll post it with the Redeker bill,” he told the kobold.

“Everyone is gathering in the conference room, Mr. DePoe,” Fenic informed the sneak thief when he arrived.

Then the goblin’s light was blocked by the large shadow of Korra, and he looked up at the barbarian woman. He listened to her story and scowled. “And just how do I keep the books if I have to take your word on how much you pay the informants?” he snapped with annoyance. “Fine, fine. DePoe can probably get the bracelet back. We are certainly not paying six hundred gold for it. I will update the file.” He picked the file up out of an OPEN CASES box and opened it, scribbling a note inside.

The goblin had a much bigger smile for Alara. He accepted the bank draft and frowned, looking it over. “That bad, eh? Kundarak. Those dwarves move quick.” He tossed the bank note into the proper file to be cashed and smiled at Alara again. “Aye, from that Aundarian place you like around the corner.”

With the firm assembled, Fenic left Liutbrand to the day’s debriefing and returned to his end of day paperwork.

[OOC=Feel free to insert character RP shop talk here.[/OOC]

About an hour later, Fenic knocked on the conference room door. “Sorry, boss. Courier just dropped this off for you.” He handed over a note.

The note was brief and to the point.

“I’m calling on you for a job. I can’t write the details, but it pays well and requires your skills. Meet me at the airship dock on top of Lyrandar Tower. Come armed.”

It was signed by Sergeant Germaine Vilroy of the Sharn Watch. She had been the human officer charged with cleaning up the oil theft perpetrators after the firm broke the case, so you have worked with the gruff, no nonsense woman before.

"Fenic," Korra says, without leaning closer or posturing menacingly (or at least with as little menace as she can muster), "Know this. Health important. Call Korra liar not good for health."

Without another word, she turns and goes into the conference room.

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