6Q's [Eberron D&D4E] In-game

[Polmac]

Welcome Gentles to the 6Q's

Welcome to Sharn. The city of Towers, The city of Daggers and the City of Oppertunity. Steeped in ages of magic and intrigue. Built upon the legs of older civilizations. Grown bigger by building upwards towards Siberys.

You have been searching for some action all month, and maybe today you have found it. Plastered on the vertical surfaces of the Middle Dura are posters. They all seem to scream adventure. Each says the same thing "Are you looking for trouble in all the wrong places? Have you wanted to make a name for yourself? Want to find treasure from time undescovered? Come find your action in Upper Dura at the Cannith Ale House, Today at Mid-Sun".

(Changing NPC Speaking to Sienna)

"Neener" Intrigued at what such a collection of miscreants might be like, Neener decided to check it out. So he hopped on Pluck's back, and the two flew to the ale house. There, Neener snuck in and hid among the rafters to watch the fun.

[Ghost49X]

Rhoghar arrives early, the Silver scaled dragon born sits at the table and orders a pint of fresh water. With a courtly nod he greets the other people. "I am Rhoghar, are you all here for the poster? Ether way I am pleased to meet you."

[Camelot]

Dubh enters the inn and approaches the table when addressed by Rhogar. "Indeed I am, and pleased to meet you as well," Dubh replies, "though I have to say I'm not too keen on the 'trouble' aspect of the query. My name is Dubhshlaine, Illusionist from the University of Wynarn. What do think this adventure entails?"

[Ghost49X]

Searching through a large backpack resting under his feet Rhoghar pulls out one of the posters and studies it quietly. "Hmm, it seems to appeal to the opportunistic as well as the inexperienced, I would take that as a hint towards the higher risk end of the scale." Rhoghar passes the poster to Dubh. "As for myself, I bring the might and the light of the Silver Flame to the endeavor. What ever evil dare stand against us will be hard pressed."

[Shular]

Neener

Neener follows the conversation of the newcomers from his vantage point above. They seem more interesting than the rest of the people gathered. He barely stops himself from laughing out loud at the pomposity of the dragonborn. There's one, he thinks to himself, who could stand to be taken down a notch or two. The elf mage, on the other hand, would require more caution. Fey arcane practitioners could be dangerous. And Neener should know...he IS one.

[ArcturusV]

The door opened slowly, a feline face peeking out from behind it at the interior of the Cannith Ale-House. Slitted eyes glanced left and right, and there was a sense of tensed muscles ready to bolt at a moment's notice on that face. With nothing happening after a few heartbeats she opened the door, slinking in.

The shifter was clearly out of place here, constantly scanning the room, fidgeting until she spied something that seemed familiar. Something she also had crumpled up in her left hand. A certain poster that she had ripped down from a wall.

Nodding with determination she made a straight line for the table the others were at, she slapped the poster on the table with a thump, plopped down in a chair, and gave the others a predatory smile, "Guess we're all here for the same thing," she said with a light tone.

[Camelot]

Dubh keeps a close eye on his coin purse, as it just occured to him that the poster might have been a ruse to attract several wealthy adventurers to a crowded room where they would be distracted by each other. When the shifter arrives, he smiles and says, "It appears that way. My name is Dubhshlaine, Illusionist from the University of Wynarn. What would your name be, if I may ask? If we are going to be joining each other for 'action,' we should probably know what names to shout in the heat of battle." Dubh's smile then fades a bit as he realizes that what he just said could be taken as an innuendo, but nonetheless awaits a response.

[Hircine]

Riven Markov - Revenant Warlock

Aimlessly wandering the crowded streets of Middle Dura, Riven's gaze shifts wildly, observing a number of spirits floating unseen amongst the masses. He feel a great sadness for these once powerful entities that are nothing more than ethereal beings who have been lost along the march of time. Continuing his leisurely stroll he passes a busy storefront where he spots the phantom of Urbik, god of masonry. The spirit quickly disappears from sight and in its place is a poster. Approaching the flyer he gives it a once over and quickly believes it to be a sign from the old gods.

Riven makes his way to one of the lifts, he rides the circular platform until it reaches the upper level. Not sure where the alehouse was located he pays a guide to give him directions. Arriving at his intended destination he pulls the door open and steps into the dimly lit taproom. Fluttering out from somewhere within the warlock's robes his crow, Visancourt finds a place to perch in the rafters.

The revenant makes his way to the only vacant table and quickly snags a chair. Sitting down he glances at the other patrons but chooses to remain silent.

[Polmac]

You glance from side to side at the other tables from your vantage points. You see all walks of life, from the Biggest of Bugbears to the tiniest of Goblins, from well dressed Humans to middle-class Elves and Dwarves. And even a pixie of two standing on tables. Most of the people here look shiftier than down near the Cogs, but they keep to their tables.

Overhearing some from the table next to you. "What does yous think this could be for?Who is we looking for?" "We will see when the lady comes out of her office, Droog"

Standing by an interior door stands a Warforged the height of a goliath, but the girth of a tree-trunk, one hand converted into a hammer. It appears his unmoving eyes scan the room for anything out of place as if there might be someone to throw out of his Mistresses Bar. His head lifts as he scans the rafters and his eyes glint as they lock onto ... the bird that came out of the "Thing's" Robe.

Numbers float out of the tables, Your table's number is 4. "Ooh, Shiny, What Number is Dat, Can I touch it Jackal?" "Go ahead Droog." "Ouch Dat hurt, look'a the scar that'll leave, Jackal" "By the way, that is the number three, like the number of brain cells you have in that noggin of yours."

[Shular]

Neener

Neener has an internal debate with himself. Should he stay hidden above, or join a table. Seeing the other pixies decides it for him. He can't let THEM get all the glory. Motioning Pluck to stay in the rafters, Neener dives off the wooden beam and glides down to the table of those whome, a few seconds before, he'd been eavesdropping.

He is the smallest pixie in the room, no more than 6 inches tall, and wearing the tiniest hide armour (those knowlegable in such things suspect it might be rat, but there with a grim aura to it), but he has little problem making his presence known. He nods his head regally to the others, then makes a point of examining the number. "4! A wonderfull number! The number of elements, of seasons, and of leafs on a lucky clover. If this is your group number, then I think that I shall grant you the unique pleasure of my acquaintance. I...am Neener, speaker to animals, master of the blade, and," he continues, glancing at Rhogar with a gleam in his eye, "hard presser of evil."

[ArcturusV]

Lacking the context of "Hard Presser", Talia stared at the pixie as if it had grown a second head, "Well, I suppose if we need someone to hump a vampire into submission you'll be the first one I contact," Talia said, letting off a single sharp laugh. She kicked up her feet onto the table, leaning back in her chair, trying to bluff herself being more at ease than she actually was with everything that was going on. And not going all that well with it. She still fidgeted and ticked nervously.

"Talia. Purveyor of objects that have been 'dropped'... with alarming frequency considering the value of said 'dropped' objects."

[Ghost49X]

@Neener
"Well met little one, it is always a pleasure to meet someone who stands against the forces of evil." Rhoghar bows from where he's sitting. Looking at the crowded Ale house Rhoghar takes a deep breath in anticipation "Seems like this drew quite the crowd, anyone else starting to get excited?" with a draconian grin spreading across his face he looks at the other people sitting around his table.

@Talia
Noticing her discomfort at the social situation he tries to smile warmly "Greetings and welcome Lady Talia, do not worry you are in good company amongst us"

[Camelot]

Dubh had stopped paying attention to the niceties at his table to eavesdrop on the table nearby. He notices the floating number hurting the hand of the less-than-intelligent patron and takes mental note of it. In case the 'action' mentioned on the poster happens sooner than expected, anything else that can cause pain will be useful.

His attention is drawn back to the table when the pixie flutters down from the rafters. "Quite a list of titles you have there, fellow fey." He looks around at the menagerie gathered at table four. "I would say that I am excited, in a manner of speaking. May I ask, is there anyone besides myself learned in the arcane arts?"

[Shular]

Neener

"KNOW arcane arts?" Neener responds with raised eyebows. "I AM arcane art," he finishes, fluttering his multi-coloured wings.

"But then," he continues, taking on a more pensive pose, hand on chin, "I don't really know much arcana. Does that mean I don't know myself? Hmm. Yo wench! Beer!"

[Hircine]

Riven Markov - Revenant Warlock

"Some misguided fools might consider my talents to be arcane, though they would be wrong. My powers are a gift from the Old, Dead, and Forgotten Gods.", he claims as his crow descends from the rafters, settling on Riven's shoulder.

[Polmac]

At the next table, you spot the "Party", which includes a male Dwarf that is wearing nobles clothing, "Well met I am Jackal and this is my hireling Droog", and ponts to the male Orc, nursing his inflicted hand. With scars over his arms and face you can deduce that he may have served a nation for the Last War.
You also see a male Human sitting and scribling on pieces of paper. He wears clothes of a peasent, with ink running down his sleeves. he waves his unused hand he introduces himself as Riann D'Canneth, fifth cousin tree times removed from the true bloodline.
Also sitting there is a female Kalishtar "Sugar, you can call me Madara, though you may not want to sleep afterwords."
Sitting in the last seat is an elf, with the similar markings as your ally, although, he wears red and black clothing. My family calls me Leodine."

From the other side of the room the Warforged moves slightly ahead, behind him the door opens and lets out a human female. She has the stature and garments of a noblewoman. She is fully cover from her neck to the floor in a dress, save for a single sleeve, from which you can see an eerie glowing tattoo, seething from enchanting blue to deep purple. She takes the stage next to her office, the Warforged follows her onstage. She places three fingers of her exposed arm to her thoat and starts to speak. "Welcome all to the Canneth Ale House, I am Elize D'Canneth, First Cousin of Merrix, and one of the ambassadors of Aundair. I have called upon adventurers to aide us on retrieving relics from ages long since buried. We, myself and the lead Investigator of the Age of Monstrosities, Professor Panice Lightouch, would like you to search for items to be placed into the Dezina Museum of Antiquities. It was a novel idea brought to me from the professor, and in turn repay you for your troubles. I will personally interview you by the tables you are sitting at. Although my assistant, Glaive" points with her free hand to the Warforged, "will come grab you and bring you into my office." Speaking to Glaive "Now Glaive, when I say grab them, I mean escort them into my office."
Glaive shrugs his shoulders and nods. With her speech finished she and Glaive take exit and walk back to her office.

[Ghost49X]

While waiting for their turn Rhoghar shifts around in anticipation on his chair. "Smells like the forgotten continent to me, who knows what we'll find there!" He looks at those gathered at his table "What say you all?"

[ArcturusV]

Talia was scowling by the time that the Lady finished her speech. In fact the shifter spit on the floor to her left, signalling her displeasure as the Lady disappeared into her office.

"Optimistic. I don't suppose you've ever done work like this?" Talia asked the Dragonborn who spoke about the Forgotten Continent. She shook her head slowly, "Coin better be too good to turn down, for a set up like this... still... looks like that tart up there did have some coin to spread around..."

[Camelot]

Dubh's eyes light up. "This is exactly the kind of task I have been searching for! Lost knowledge! Ancient relics!" He looks around at the other tables filled with adventurers. "Of course, I should have expected to not be guaranteed a spot on the expedition. I don't know about the rest of you, but I would go regardless of whether I was getting paid for it. Undoubtedly we would find a few things to keep for ourselves anyway."

[ArcturusV]

"What if almost everyone goes?" Talia asked the mageling. She nodded a bit, "Makes more sense, if you think about it. Only toss out the ones who are wholly unsuitable for the task. Kleptos, cultists, things like that. Then Lady Fancy Dress over there sends us ALL to get the loot for her. Probably tells us we'll get paid by the value of what we find or something. So she's got this whole place worth of eyes out there looking for stuff for her, finding more loot."

"... then you get the long ride home. People start thinking things... like if they put a knife into you that they can get the reward for their work, AND your work. In the end you got only a few people who 'made it back' trying to claim all the loot. Coin does that to people. And it's a lot easier not to pay, or do something else... to a few people rather than a full ale house worth..."

Talia shrugged after she said this all, "Pays to have some friends you can count on... if that is the set up. Might not be. Might in fact be exactly like that. If it is, it'd be a good idea to draw some lines of loyalty right here, right now. Make sure someone who knows what is up is willing to watch out for you."

[Ghost49X]

Elbows on the table and leaning forward "Indeed we may find those things, though I reckon that if we sign on it'll be on her terms not ours. Though the pay better be good if she expects loyalty and discipline from this bunch" Rhoghar nods towards the bulk of candidates in the room. "On the other hand, get a bunch of 'adventure hungry people' over in Stormreach then set up shop there and offer a good price for anything they find. Done like this it'll be cheap cause she doesn't have to give us a wage and the market will be alot smaller than if she waits in Sharn for us to get back."

"Miss Talia I'm more than willing to watch your back if I can have the same oath from you."

[Hircine]

"Humph, coin has little meaning to me. Although the prospect of finding ancient religious artifacts certainly has merit."

[ArcturusV]

Talia looked over the Dragonborn with an appraising eye, nodding slowly, "Seems like I can take your word for it. For what it's worth, I'll give mine. What value you place on my oath is up to you, but it's there to take."

[Shular]

Neener

Neener taps his foot impatiently. "I never understood you bigs and your focus on 'money' and 'honor'. They both seem to get in the way of having FUN. Now what's taking them so long?" He looks around for possible targets of mischief.

[Ghost49X]

"Honor is not a goal but an ideal, little one" Rhoghar takes a swing of his drink giving the pixie a moment for his words to settle in "One does not seek honor, you have it or you don't. When you do what is right even when it is not to your advantage, when you walk the rightious path even while others doubt your integrity; this is known as honor. There are those who know honor and those who pretend to know honor but only you can know truth about yourself; in here" Rhoghar taps his chest.

[ArcturusV]

"Or in a slightly less preachy manner... hard to have fun if the guy standing next to you sticks a knife in your chest ya little humper," Talia explained bluntly to the little one. "It's more practical than anything," she leaned back in her chair a bit, stuck her boots up on the edge of the table, "But life ain't worth living unless you can have some fun. And coin makes fun a lot more effective."

[Polmac]

You all notice as the tavern begins to empty slowly, it seems there is something not right. Table after table is ushered into the office but none seem to come back out. A female Gnome comes around with drinks for the table, excuses her tardiness with the lateness, something about all out of thimbles and needing to run back to her sewing chamber. You count the 6 chairs and 4 people sitting in them, unless you count the pixie standing on the table, that means there are "5" chairs filled.

[Camelot]

"That is strange," Dubh comments, conveniently ignoring the conversation about honor, "why has no one come back out after their interview? Is there a back door that they are being seen out through? You do not think..." He stops, not wanting to jump to extreme conclusions.

[Shular]

Neener

"Hmm," Neener replies, "my pixie sense is tingling. Excuse me."

With that, he flies back up to the rafters, attempts to conceal himself in the shadows, and summons a large (relative to him) but light blade.

Spoiler

Show

Fly up and land on the rafter, stealth [roll]1d20+14[/stealth] to hide, then summon pact blade (minor).

[Ghost49X]

"An instant travel ritual to the location in question upon acceptation of the contract? Or a second waiting room to prevent people from discussing the specifics of the interview? Strange that they didn't mention anything beforehand." Rhoghar leans in and lowers his voice "be prepared, I agree this may not be what we came here for. Dubh, can your magic cover our escape should it be necessary?" with this Rhoghar lets his hand rest on the huge warhammer beside him.