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[IC] Eberron: The Plumbers


the magical equivalent to the number zero
Ogham is glad to see the others in the conference room, and he quietly watches each in turn for a few moments while continuing polishing his plates. The cleaning is just for the sake of it, because the remaining rust will not come off and there is not a single spot of dust or dirt left.

After delivering his own report - that there is nothing to report, sadly, because both the rodent network and the feline report came up empty - the warforged spots the mouse under the closet as it starts on the bread he had placed there. Lowering his hand to the floor, Ogham manages to convince the mouse to sit on his palm, bread and all, and triumphantly the druid holds it up before him.

He looks sideways at Rotom, pleased to show his new tiny friend to his much-larger-but-still-small kobold friend.

Then Fenic opens the door and startles the mouse; it rushes down and escapes to his home under the closet.

OOC: Do I know where the conference room is? (/ooc]
I assume so, since we're all working for this agency.

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DePoe seems momentarily confused and being called Mister, but follows Ogham into the meeting room and finds a corner he can occupy. Conscious of the place he is in, DePoe tries very hard to not touch anything that is new.


Alara sat through the meeting, quietly sipping her tea. When it came to her turn to report, she relayed the information concisely, and leaving out the pathetic tea party that had culminated events. She settled for making clear she believed the bank draft to be no good, and their clients having no means to pay.

"There's no blood in this stone," she concluded.


Possibly a Idiot.
Rotom nods and smiles to Fenic as he takes the letter. It was reassuring to have someone on staff she could see eye-to-eye with, literally and figuratively. Most people from Darguun made it into Sharn as dumb labor, or even just brutes with weapons. Though races like the Iredar and the Golin'dar are further looked down upon as barely being good for that. Even back home, her father, a warlord favored by Sora Katra herself, had to constantly deal with these predispositions from his piers. These kinds of attitudes lent to Rotom favoring correspondence when dealing with clients, even when her coworkers preferred a more personal approach. Plus, a paper trail was a handy form of proof should a client decide to shirk the bill.

Speaking of her coworkers, Ogham was a special case. He took his time to consider even the perspective of beasts. Even here in the middle of a staff meeting he could make a new friend. One day she will be able to help him with his amulet problem, she hopes.

Rotom takes up a sugar cube in her claws and offers it to the mouse, who then flees before grabbing it when Fenic comes back in with the note.

Rotom clicks her tongue when she hears the news. She had just finished tuning up her crossbow, looks like she chance to use it in action would come sooner rather than later.
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It was only once he'd settled into the space that DePoe notices the pastries. Deftly grabbing a pair and shoving one into a pocket he began to eat the other. "So, other than the new place, what's up Fenic?"


Liutbrand read the short note, then placed it on the table, so everyone else could take a good look at it. He wasn't particularly fond of sergeant Vilroy. After the oil theft investigation, Vilroy and Liutbrand had a few arguments. She was very skeptical of the agency's investigation, and insisted on verifying every little bit of it before arresting the culprits, almost letting them slip through her fingers. Clearly, the sergeant had little faith on the agency's abilities.

The note in front of him, while brief and concise, was proof that, on some level, Vilroy's opinion on them had changed for the better. "Perhaps she's smarter than I initially thought", Liutbrand mumbled, while drinking his cup of tal and munching on the excellent ashi bread. With honey. Perfect.

"I suggest you a take look at this note, people. Our latest jobs haven't paid up, and we're bleeding money here. Fenic can attest to that" Liutbrand turned to the goblin for a moment, who could only nod in response.
"I'm not going to lie to you. A job offer with no details, other than a supposedly good paycheck and a request to come armed. It's definitely going to be some dangerous crap. I want you to be aware of that".
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the magical equivalent to the number zero
Ogham takes the note as it is passed around and reads it briefly. He nods, then hands it to the next person.

"When we go?" he asks Liutbrand with that same voice all the warforged have except those especially modified. There is no expression in his face, naturally, but his voice seems a little excited about a new job.


Alara looked at the note, nonplussed, and passed it on. It was a measure of the company's desperation - and her own - that they were even considering this. If the Sharn City Watch was looking to get rid of a job, it would be unpleasant, impossible, or both. Still, she literally had nothing better to do with her time.

Poker-faced, she met Liutbrand's eyes and wordlessly nodded her assent.

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