Metropolis (The World in Waiting) - Chapter One

[Phoenix]

"Thank you, you've been of great help."

Taran sets off to explore this area, though feeling a bit uneasy about it. Hopefully he and Twitchy can keep a much lower profile. Unfortunately, having directions and knowing where you are going still doesn't mean you'll actualy get there in this big metropolis. After a few wrong turns and an extra ferry ride, Taran is able to reorient himself and finds himself in The Steel City.

"We're going down again Twitchy, but this isn't going to be home." Taran says to his companion. Twitchy twitches nervously, showing the trepidation that Taran feels. Taran checks the time and thinks to himself 'Should I realy do this at this late in the day?' Having found a way to talk himself out of it for at least the day, Taran looks to find a merc bar. Perhaps he can get the name of the nobleman who lost his kid, and perhaps even a description of the kid.

[sblock]Gather Information check (DC 15) +11 - Failure
Diplomacy check (DC 12) +13 - Success
[/sblock]

The echo of steely clangs ring out for a dozen streets out of the Steel City, and the smoke from the forges can be seen from suburbs away as it billows into the sky far above Taren. By the time the halfling and his companion wander through the various dirty constuctions that act as warehouses, forges, construction shops and smelting area, the night is upon them.

The inns and taverns of The Steel City are far from few and far between, with dozens clumped in the crude 'marketplaces' that serve as ore trading areas for the craftmen that live and work in the suburb. A building that looks like it was once a small lighthouse*, now converted into a tavern, called The Shaft is bristling with mercenaries tonight with few inside its walls without the touch of iron on them in one way or another.

The appearance of Taren in such a place is met with inital hostilities, but it seems that after a few drinks the appearance of a midget with a pet mouse causes endless mirth in the building, eventually leading to drinking, then more drinking. Through the haze of alcohol that Taren is required to imbibe in order to gather information, the night eases its way into morning, and as the halfling drifts off to sleep in an old bed in the upper levels, he feels that the answers he had been given through the night were less than helpful, especially when so many of them involved someone else's body parts, external fluids, or crude jokes about elven men...

[sblock]The buildings and suburbs of Metropolis are old and there has often been efforts to record the history of the various suburbs, but often the people and places that record the history of the city fall on ill times and much is lost. Hundreds of buildings such as the lighthouse are scattered throughout the city, even though there is no significant body of water for navigation for miles. What their previous purpose was, few now know.
[/sblock]

 

[Phoenix]

"Good Sah" Ghost cries to the heavily muscled orc "a little assistance would be appreciated, you wouldn't believe the day I've had. Praps you could see your way clear to opening the grill so I could exit this damp, smelly sewer?"

The orc looks about confused for a moment, trying to find the source of the voice. After a similar call for help from Ghost, the man looks down in surprise at the sewer-drenched elf far below him. "'Ang on chief, I'll get ya out."

It takes less than an hour for the man to get the tools to force the grill open, then lowering rope down to assist Ghost from his predicament. Rising to the surface and into the dirty smog-filled morning of the Steel City, Ghost notices the dozens of makeshift tents that make up one of the many ore markets that scatter the suburb. His exodus from the sewer has gained no small amount of attention from the crowd and at least a half-dozen large men with swords, axes, and chainmail armour wait nearby to judge the dirty elf's actions.

 

[Phoenix]

If only he knew who she were... was? She would have him slain!

But she couldn't, now, could she?

But her first plan was to get clean. She'd never been so dirty in her life, and she couldn't stand it. And the thought of bathing in a public bathhouse made her sick to her stomache - but that is what she'd do. She'd wander the street, confused and unknowing, looking for a bathhouse in which to bathe and clean her clothes.

And nevermind trying to get help from the peasants anymore. Ungrateful swine...

[sblock]Diplomacy check (DC 10) +18 - Success
[/sblock]

In a world completely alien to her past the window of her carriage or the doors of her temple, Alexis wandered lost for hours, desperately searching for a public bathhouse to rid her of the uncleanly peasant look that she was sporting.

Trying to keep to the 'better' streets that would most likely hold what she desired, Alexis eventually discovered The Sylvan Grove. The tavern was well kept, though very old and in disrepair, but sported a sign that proclaimed that they possessed a working bath that 'A Faire Unicorne Maiden Would Bathe Within'.

Within ante-chamber of the building an elegantly groomed half-orc in a slightly tattered and dusty blue suit watched Alexis' approach. His initial reaction to the woman was similar to others in the street, at least the look on his face was that of disgust. How ever his lips were quiet and Alexis' elegant voice and coin allowed her entrance, a warm meal, a slightly moldy but comfortable room, and finally a relaxing moment in the grove.

The bath was shaped like a small pond and sunk into the floor, tepid water slowly dribbling from a rusted pipe in the wall. Once the pants that decorated the grove may have been vibrant, but the toll of years and poor maintenance had killed or sicken most of them, turning the chamber into a mockery of its former self.

 

[Phoenix]

Ba'aktar nods, "The others better be ready when we go in. Follow me."

Once he's done grumbling he starts pacing briskly towards the building's doors. Ba'aktar unlatches his khora from his belt and when he's close enough to make an assumption about the condition the doors are in he'll pick up his pace (and assuming they'll give after a bit of punishment) and work his way up to a sprint before launching himself at a door in an effort to smash it apart. If they look solid he'll just try opening them, and if that works he'll just stroll in and start yelling and smashing things. And if that also fails he'll try going in through a window, climbing to the second story if he must.

Once he encounters a priest or guard he'll try taking them hostage, or if there is too much distance between them he'll take a child hostage if there's one within easy reach (though he wouldn't actually harm the child, he'd try to look like he would) and getting the information they need from them that way. If there's noone he can take hostage he'll act generally threatening and if they don't back down he'll kill them (or try) if they back down he'll take them hostage. If they're stubborn after that he'll kill one of the oldies that are within sword's reach, which includes the hostage if they're an oldie (or try, assuming old = will drop easy) or failing that just shout and threaten the child hostage, mention something about burning the orphanage down, etc, etc.

[sblock]Strength check (DC 12) +18 - Success
Yu'olan attack roll +13 - Hit
Yu'olan damage roll - 8pts (subdual)
[/sblock]

The doors look old but sturdy and Ba'aktar makes a snap decision, charging the double doors with all his might. There is a solid crunching sound as the door's latches give way, forcing both of the old doors inward with great force, slamming against the stone walls within.

Within the temple proper a small group of six children scream in panic and run into the back rooms, the old man attending them isn't as fast. Completely surprised by his sudden entrance, the man can only take a few steps backwards before Yu'olan charges past Ba'aktar and raises the pommel of his blade to slam with a meaty thunk into his face.

Looking down at the old man who writhes on the floor grasping his shattered nose, Yu'olan smiles at Ba'aktar in pride. Ba'aktar easily lift the old man to his feet with one and and Yu'olan grins evilly at his bloody face.

"Ok then, tell us where yer gold is or Baaky 'ere will stick them teeth into you." Yu'olan crudely follows up his threat by grabbing the man between the legs and squeezing.

Little more than a crimson bubbling comes from the mouth of the elderly priest and Yu'olan gestures the half-orc to put him down. "I'll work on this one Baaky, you go chase them kiddies or find another one, let's get this over with fast."

With his mind set now on hostages, Ba'aktar steps into the back room where the children have fled into. The rear chamber is little more than a few tables with crude knives and forks scattered about with tin mugs, on the far side of the room is another door which is wide open. Through the archway the children huddle around the legs of a second old man that wears the same robes as the previous, this one however begins to chant and wave his hands at the intruder...

 

[Bront]

[sblock]Gather Information check (DC 15) +11 - Failure
Diplomacy check (DC 12) +13 - Success
[/sblock]

The echo of steely clangs ring out for a dozen streets out of the Steel City, and the smoke from the forges can be seen from suburbs away as it billows into the sky far above Taren. By the time the halfling and his companion wander through the various dirty constuctions that act as warehouses, forges, construction shops and smelting area, the night is upon them.

The inns and taverns of The Steel City are far from few and far between, with dozens clumped in the crude 'marketplaces' that serve as ore trading areas for the craftmen that live and work in the suburb. A building that looks like it was once a small lighthouse*, now converted into a tavern, called The Shaft is bristling with mercenaries tonight with few inside its walls without the touch of iron on them in one way or another.

The appearance of Taren in such a place is met with inital hostilities, but it seems that after a few drinks the appearance of a midget with a pet mouse causes endless mirth in the building, eventually leading to drinking, then more drinking. Through the haze of alcohol that Taren is required to imbibe in order to gather information, the night eases its way into morning, and as the halfling drifts off to sleep in an old bed in the upper levels, he feels that the answers he had been given through the night were less than helpful, especially when so many of them involved someone else's body parts, external fluids, or crude jokes about elven men...

[sblock]The buildings and suburbs of Metropolis are old and there has often been efforts to record the history of the various suburbs, but often the people and places that record the history of the city fall on ill times and much is lost. Hundreds of buildings such as the lighthouse are scattered throughout the city, even though there is no significant body of water for navigation for miles. What their previous purpose was, few now know.
[/sblock]

Taran continues to banter with the crowd, hoping that perhaps some soul's mouth will open a bit with more lubrication. He laughs at the jokes, and occasionaly tries to tell a few to try to fit in.

 

[Festy_Dog]

With his mind set now on hostages, Ba'aktar steps into the back room where the children have fled into. The rear chamber is little more than a few tables with crude knives and forks scattered about with tin mugs, on the far side of the room is another door which is wide open. Through the archway the children huddle around the legs of a second old man that wears the same robes as the previous, this one however begins to chant and wave his hands at the intruder...

Ba'aktar took a moment to scowl. Magic was always a problem, and he had no doubt it would always remain a problem. He ducks out of sight behind the archway, intent on keeping himself out of line of fire (or any kind of harmful energy for that matter). Assuming his evasive action was fast enough he'd dash up beside the archway take a moment to yell at the priest.

"Give it up, pink-skin. We're here for the gold. We've got your buddy, so just tell us what we want to know and you'll come out of this..." Ba'aktar's yelling pauses for a second, "...alright."

If this doesn't cause cooperation Ba'aktar will dash through the archway and tackle the priest if possible, or just smash through the wall next to the archway if it looks the worse for wear.

 

[D20Dazza]

Ghost Hound Elf Bard

His exodus from the sewer has gained no small amount of attention from the crowd and at least a half-dozen large men with swords, axes, and chainmail armour wait nearby to judge the dirty elf's actions.

"Why thank you Sah, I do owe you a great debt of gratitude. What is the name of my hero so I can immortalise you in prose" the elf bows at the waste, sweeping his arms out in a magnaminous gesture of thanks. Ghost continues, his voice rising in volume so that those gathered in the immediate area can all hear. "Let me tell you how I came to be in this predicament."

"It was a dark night and the clouds hung leaden in the sky, a steady rain beat a tattoo against the brim of my hat as I made my way through the streets of Metropolis. I was on a job, hunting the most vile of predators, a kidnapper. This demon in a man's skin had abducted the daughter of a man for his own nefarious purposes. A daugther that the father doted upon, a girl yet to see her ninth summer, a girl who was the apple of her father's eye, a girl whose virtues were as pure as the driven snow." Ghost stops to draw breath, his voice shaking and his eyes filling with unshed tears. Drawing a deep, shuddering breath the elf continues

"I tracked this man from The Apartments to the Ivory Markets and then to the sewers below this sprawling city. I was right on the dastardly demons tail, close to catching him when I was waylaid by close to a dozen ghouls." Ghost dramatically draws his mace from beneath his cloak and reenacts the battle with actions and words before the startled audience.

"And then, 6 bodies around me and with 6 more ghouls gathering in the shadows I did what any sane man would do and I fled. For a day and a night I ran. I ambushed the ghouls one by one as they caught up with me, my elven heritage saving me from their paralytic touch. I had survived the posse of undead but in doing so had myself become lost. Until this morning when I was rescued by this sterling citizen" Ghost claps the orc on the back "you have done this city a great service and I would do a feature piece on you in the Independant. Once I've finished saving this girl you and I will have to have a chat" Turning to the crowd Ghost smiles and shrugs his shoulders.

"Anyone got a cigar? Mine are ruined and after what I've just been through I could really use one"

OOC: I'd spent an hour or so typing my action, trying for some Salvatore like fight scene descriptions, and then accidently closed the window and lost it all so this is the abridged version.

 

[Phoenix]

Taran continues to banter with the crowd, hoping that perhaps some soul's mouth will open a bit with more lubrication. He laughs at the jokes, and occasionaly tries to tell a few to try to fit in.

[sblock]Gather Information check (DC 15) +8 - Failure
[/sblock]

Taran talks with the morning crowd, many remembering him from the night before and freely conversing with him. Many mercenaries had heard the tale of which Taren speaks, but know none of the mercenaries involved, nor the particular nobleman. The best that Taren can discover is what he already knows, the location of the sewer entrance which the group explored.

Soon after breakfast The Shaft empties, with all of her patrons returning to work and leaving Taren to decide on his next move.

 

[Phoenix]

Ba'aktar took a moment to scowl. Magic was always a problem, and he had no doubt it would always remain a problem. He ducks out of sight behind the archway, intent on keeping himself out of line of fire (or any kind of harmful energy for that matter). Assuming his evasive action was fast enough he'd dash up beside the archway take a moment to yell at the priest.

"Give it up, pink-skin. We're here for the gold. We've got your buddy, so just tell us what we want to know and you'll come out of this..." Ba'aktar's yelling pauses for a second, "...alright."

If this doesn't cause cooperation Ba'aktar will dash through the archway and tackle the priest if possible, or just smash through the wall next to the archway if it looks the worse for wear.

[sblock]Ba'aktar initiative +13
Priest of Urbanus initiative +14
Ba'aktar Will Save (DC 15) +17 - Success
Intimidate check (DC 25) +20 - Failure
Priest of Urbanus Attack Roll (AC 19) +20
Spiritual Weapon Damage Roll - 8pts
Ba'aktar Bull Rush check (DC 6) +25 - Success (24ft movement possible)
[/sblock]

Ba'aktar's eyes widen as he throws himself behind cover, desperate to avoid the priest's magic. The old man's words come to an end a split second before Ba'aktar's reflexes can kick in and his legs begin to grow heavy, his arms stiff and his chest heavy. With the last of his reserves the half-orc strains against the magic, his anger rising inside him, forcing his body to move!

Somehow Ba'aktar's legs carry him behind the archway and out of sight, the magic fading from his bones, allowing him to rub his sore legs and prepare his next move.

"Give it up, pink-skin. We're here for the gold. We've got your buddy, so just tell us what we want to know and you'll come out of this..." Ba'aktar's yelling pauses for a second, "...alright."

The old man's reply is barely perceivable, but Ba'aktar can definately make out a pig reference in it. Looking about he notices that the walls are too strong for him to force his way through with any success, or speed, and so Plan B is swiftly initated.

Bursting from cover, the six foot four form of the towering half-orc goes barrelling toward the priest and his children, eyes hardened and shoulder set for impact. Too late does he hear the last of the spell as it is intoned. Awaiting him, materializing in mid air, the form of a floating sledgehammer swings directly at his face.

The momentum of Ba'aktar works against him, and the sledgehammer slams into him squarely on the cheek, causing a painful cracking sound and spinning the half-orc around violently. Keeping his feet barely, Ba'aktar looks around once more with bloodlust in his eyes a roars as his feet take him faster that ever forward.

The priest barely saw it coming.

One massive arm outstretched easily caught the old man's neck solidly, and swinging him around and down Ba'aktar them him to the floor like a paper doll. With a solid thumping noise, the old man lay on the floor, his children screaming and cowering in the corner of the room. Gasping for breath instead of casting spells, the priest desperately rubs his throat to get feeling back, barely aware of the tower of half-orc flesh that now looks down at him.

 

[Phoenix]

"Why thank you Sah, I do owe you a great debt of gratitude. What is the name of my hero so I can immortalise you in prose" the elf bows at the waste, sweeping his arms out in a magnaminous gesture of thanks. Ghost continues, his voice rising in volume so that those gathered in the immediate area can all hear. "Let me tell you how I came to be in this predicament."

"It was a dark night and the clouds hung leaden in the sky, a steady rain beat a tattoo against the brim of my hat as I made my way through the streets of Metropolis. I was on a job, hunting the most vile of predators, a kidnapper. This demon in a man's skin had abducted the daughter of a man for his own nefarious purposes. A daugther that the father doted upon, a girl yet to see her ninth summer, a girl who was the apple of her father's eye, a girl whose virtues were as pure as the driven snow." Ghost stops to draw breath, his voice shaking and his eyes filling with unshed tears. Drawing a deep, shuddering breath the elf continues

"I tracked this man from The Apartments to the Ivory Markets and then to the sewers below this sprawling city. I was right on the dastardly demons tail, close to catching him when I was waylaid by close to a dozen ghouls." Ghost dramatically draws his mace from beneath his cloak and reenacts the battle with actions and words before the startled audience.

"And then, 6 bodies around me and with 6 more ghouls gathering in the shadows I did what any sane man would do and I fled. For a day and a night I ran. I ambushed the ghouls one by one as they caught up with me, my elven heritage saving me from their paralytic touch. I had survived the posse of undead but in doing so had myself become lost. Until this morning when I was rescued by this sterling citizen" Ghost claps the orc on the back "you have done this city a great service and I would do a feature piece on you in the Independant. Once I've finished saving this girl you and I will have to have a chat" Turning to the crowd Ghost smiles and shrugs his shoulders.

"Anyone got a cigar? Mine are ruined and after what I've just been through I could really use one"

OOC: I'd spent an hour or so typing my action, trying for some Salvatore like fight scene descriptions, and then accidently closed the window and lost it all so this is the abridged version.

[sblock]Perform - oratory (DC variable) +23 - Great Success
[/sblock]

The crowd grows silent and listens to Ghosts tale, momentarily forgetting his stench and filth to enjoy Ghost's performance. Once it comes to an end there is a small applause from a few select people, but the faces of the hardened workers is enough for Ghost to recognize that he has touched more than a few of them. A robust dwarf steps up and strikes the elf on the back with a meaty thump and laughs, passing him a short, partly smoked cigar with a wet end soaked in saliva.

"There ya go lad, sounds like you deserve it!"

There is a chuckle in the air from a few of the workers and several warm smiles as the dwarf and orc grab Ghost with hands covered in furnace gloves. The dwarf calls out, "Methinks that we had better by this lad a drink!"