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<blockquote data-quote="Eluvan" data-source="post: 1844779" data-attributes="member: 24812"><p>Okay, let's get this show on the road! </p><p></p><p> Spoiler text will be used [spoiler]on occassion[/spoiler]. I trust you not to read other people's - it really is more fun if you don't. </p><p></p><p> Speech in 'inverted commas' and, if you like, in <span style="color: red">colour</span>.</p><p></p><p> Thoughts in <em>italics</em>. </p><p></p><p> OOC infomation (such as rolls) should be ((enclosed in double brackets)). </p><p></p><p> Rolls should look like: ((Disable Device = [X] + Y = Z)) where X = the roll, Y = the modifier, and Z = the total. I trust you to roll your own dice. Again, it's more fun if you actually do so. If your rolls start to look dodgy, I'll start rolling them instead.</p><p></p><p> And that's the boring stuff out of the way. I'm leaving the opening post fairly open in terms of how your characters have come to this point. In your first post, please give a brief description of your character (just copy-paste from your sheet, if you prefer), and a brief summary (which can be whatever you want, within reason of course) of how you have come to Fairhaven, and how you were recruited for the job on which you are now embarking. The financial incentive was 800gp each. </p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p> The city of Fairhaven. The capital of Aundair, one of the five nations that once comprised the great and mighty realm of Galifar. Yet, in truth, a city whose history dates back even past that nigh-legendary realm, to the days when the fledgling nation of Aundair was still in formation, its borders being defined through constant expansion and retreat and its character being slowly created in the great forge of history. In those heady days when all of Eberron was a new frontier for the human settlers from across the sea, the first stones of this city were laid. Who, in those days, could have looked forward and foreseen the great metropolis that it would one day become? </p><p></p><p> Now it positively hums, teeming with activity and life. In the Royal Court of Fairhold, that monolithic creation that dominates the skyline of the city with its towering bulk, eighteen stories high, the wheels that keep the city running are turning constantly. Clerks pore through sheafs of paper, marking pertinent passages and scribbling notes. Archivists scurry through the great hall of records, carrying this and that file here and there, for all the world like fieldmice scurrying busily around collecting nesting materials. A great advocate stands in one of the public courts and delivers the speech that will save or damn the man who sits beside him, head hanging and mind reeling at the gravity of the situation he finds himself in. A diplomat from some exotic land bows low before the King of Aundair, profferring up a cushion on which lies a beautifully wrought crown studded with some kind of strange and beautiful gems. </p><p></p><p> On the streets, too, activity is everywhere. A merchant, lean and well dressed with a cruel look in his eyes, stands behind his stand and shouts confidently out into the crowd, enticing them to come and sample his wares. A wasted street urchin skulks silently through the crowd, stopping here and there to cut the strings of an unguarded purse, and in an unlucky moment is sighted and pursued by one of the City Guard, clanking after him in his unwieldy plate armour. The boy turns a corner and uses his instant of respite to use his natural racial ability to make himself appear as a small girl, a number of years younger than he had been, and then walks nonchalantly past the lumbering guard. </p><p></p><p> All of this and far more goes on across the city, yet none of it concerns us. We shall focus, instead, on the mammoth construction of the mortal races that now hovers a foot from the ground in a great paved courtyard on the outskirts of the city. Utilising magical force effects a stairway leads from the ground up to the flank of this thing, crafted from wood and metal and containing bound within itself the raw power of elemental air and fire and hanging now in the air like some kind of vast whale that swims through the skies. Climbing up this stairway now is a motley group, with little in common save that each of them seems somewhat more competent than the average man on the street. </p><p></p><p> An elf, a dwarf, a half-elf, one of the warforged, and a human with a somewhat odd look to him. Such the group is composed of. As they enter the airship, they find themselves in a rather luxurious interior. The ship is held and operated by a privateer, and clearly he has spent rather more time and effort on its aesthetics than House Lyrandar are wont to do on those they operate. Most of the interior is crafted beautifully of some kind of dark, hard wood and even the smallest details are carved into ornate patterns. Along the sides of the vessel long windows run, the panes made of expensive clear glass. Clearly the owner has quite some impressive funds at his disposal, as has already been shown by the fact that he was able to sub-contract House Deneith to hire adventurers as guards for the vessel. </p><p></p><p> To your left, stairs run up to a door that is currently closed tight. It seems that the workings of the ship are in that direction. To your right, there are a number of tables built into the ship with padded benches. Three people are already seated at these tables. One looks to be a wizard, as she is decked out in full robes and bears a staff carved with ornate runes. Another is a young half-elven man who lounges easily, propping up his head with one arm that is braced against the table, looking about ready to go to sleep. The final perosn is a human woman, about thirty by appearance, dressed very finely and looking around with a satisfied, proprietary air. As you come into the ship she stands, beaming at you. <span style="color: darkorange">'Aha!'</span> she cries, <span style="color: darkorange">'that's everybody. Rather a small crowd, but there it is. This is, after all, primarily a cargo ship and I believe most of the passangers we have are only here to look after the cargo, no? Anyway, do make yourselves at home, we have rather a long trip out to Lorghalan. I must be away, to get us airborne.'</span> With that she strides past you and through the door, with a manner that seems to suggest that any further questions you have should be worked out between yourselves.</p><p></p><p> ((If I haven't made anything clear that you feel I should have, let me know and I'll try to fill you in. You are pretty much supposed to be in the dark, however. You were hired, through house Deneith, to protect the cargo of this ship that is headed to Lorghalan in the Lhazaar Principalities, and that is all you know.))</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Eluvan, post: 1844779, member: 24812"] Okay, let's get this show on the road! Spoiler text will be used [spoiler]on occassion[/spoiler]. I trust you not to read other people's - it really is more fun if you don't. Speech in 'inverted commas' and, if you like, in [color=red]colour[/color]. Thoughts in [i]italics[/i]. OOC infomation (such as rolls) should be ((enclosed in double brackets)). Rolls should look like: ((Disable Device = [X] + Y = Z)) where X = the roll, Y = the modifier, and Z = the total. I trust you to roll your own dice. Again, it's more fun if you actually do so. If your rolls start to look dodgy, I'll start rolling them instead. And that's the boring stuff out of the way. I'm leaving the opening post fairly open in terms of how your characters have come to this point. In your first post, please give a brief description of your character (just copy-paste from your sheet, if you prefer), and a brief summary (which can be whatever you want, within reason of course) of how you have come to Fairhaven, and how you were recruited for the job on which you are now embarking. The financial incentive was 800gp each. *** The city of Fairhaven. The capital of Aundair, one of the five nations that once comprised the great and mighty realm of Galifar. Yet, in truth, a city whose history dates back even past that nigh-legendary realm, to the days when the fledgling nation of Aundair was still in formation, its borders being defined through constant expansion and retreat and its character being slowly created in the great forge of history. In those heady days when all of Eberron was a new frontier for the human settlers from across the sea, the first stones of this city were laid. Who, in those days, could have looked forward and foreseen the great metropolis that it would one day become? Now it positively hums, teeming with activity and life. In the Royal Court of Fairhold, that monolithic creation that dominates the skyline of the city with its towering bulk, eighteen stories high, the wheels that keep the city running are turning constantly. Clerks pore through sheafs of paper, marking pertinent passages and scribbling notes. Archivists scurry through the great hall of records, carrying this and that file here and there, for all the world like fieldmice scurrying busily around collecting nesting materials. A great advocate stands in one of the public courts and delivers the speech that will save or damn the man who sits beside him, head hanging and mind reeling at the gravity of the situation he finds himself in. A diplomat from some exotic land bows low before the King of Aundair, profferring up a cushion on which lies a beautifully wrought crown studded with some kind of strange and beautiful gems. On the streets, too, activity is everywhere. A merchant, lean and well dressed with a cruel look in his eyes, stands behind his stand and shouts confidently out into the crowd, enticing them to come and sample his wares. A wasted street urchin skulks silently through the crowd, stopping here and there to cut the strings of an unguarded purse, and in an unlucky moment is sighted and pursued by one of the City Guard, clanking after him in his unwieldy plate armour. The boy turns a corner and uses his instant of respite to use his natural racial ability to make himself appear as a small girl, a number of years younger than he had been, and then walks nonchalantly past the lumbering guard. All of this and far more goes on across the city, yet none of it concerns us. We shall focus, instead, on the mammoth construction of the mortal races that now hovers a foot from the ground in a great paved courtyard on the outskirts of the city. Utilising magical force effects a stairway leads from the ground up to the flank of this thing, crafted from wood and metal and containing bound within itself the raw power of elemental air and fire and hanging now in the air like some kind of vast whale that swims through the skies. Climbing up this stairway now is a motley group, with little in common save that each of them seems somewhat more competent than the average man on the street. An elf, a dwarf, a half-elf, one of the warforged, and a human with a somewhat odd look to him. Such the group is composed of. As they enter the airship, they find themselves in a rather luxurious interior. The ship is held and operated by a privateer, and clearly he has spent rather more time and effort on its aesthetics than House Lyrandar are wont to do on those they operate. Most of the interior is crafted beautifully of some kind of dark, hard wood and even the smallest details are carved into ornate patterns. Along the sides of the vessel long windows run, the panes made of expensive clear glass. Clearly the owner has quite some impressive funds at his disposal, as has already been shown by the fact that he was able to sub-contract House Deneith to hire adventurers as guards for the vessel. To your left, stairs run up to a door that is currently closed tight. It seems that the workings of the ship are in that direction. To your right, there are a number of tables built into the ship with padded benches. Three people are already seated at these tables. One looks to be a wizard, as she is decked out in full robes and bears a staff carved with ornate runes. Another is a young half-elven man who lounges easily, propping up his head with one arm that is braced against the table, looking about ready to go to sleep. The final perosn is a human woman, about thirty by appearance, dressed very finely and looking around with a satisfied, proprietary air. As you come into the ship she stands, beaming at you. [color=darkorange]'Aha!'[/color] she cries, [color=darkorange]'that's everybody. Rather a small crowd, but there it is. This is, after all, primarily a cargo ship and I believe most of the passangers we have are only here to look after the cargo, no? Anyway, do make yourselves at home, we have rather a long trip out to Lorghalan. I must be away, to get us airborne.'[/color] With that she strides past you and through the door, with a manner that seems to suggest that any further questions you have should be worked out between yourselves. ((If I haven't made anything clear that you feel I should have, let me know and I'll try to fill you in. You are pretty much supposed to be in the dark, however. You were hired, through house Deneith, to protect the cargo of this ship that is headed to Lorghalan in the Lhazaar Principalities, and that is all you know.)) [/QUOTE]
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