Crash & Burn IC

[3SecondCultist]

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"Crash & Burn"

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The brilliant skies fall on Vathirond. A once bustling town, it has seen better days. What was once the foremost eastern Brelish city, its streets wear a kind of tired spirit now. Despite the weather, there are few roaming about. The various members of the city watch - complemented by the heraldry of the Brelish Border Patrol - seem just as lethargic in their patrol routes. This city is dying a slow death. And there needs no more explanation of the root of the sickness than the wall of dead grey mist not ten miles from Vathirond's borders. The edges of what was once Cyre stand as a grim reminder of mortality to all who call this border town home.

Each of you has made your way here, whether by magic, trade road, or lightning rail. The sentries let each of you in without too much trouble, after cursory examinations of your papers. Even the fortifications are worn down, although a team of construction crews does seem to be working on installing a new palisade to the north. You are greeted with a lukewarm welcome by nearly all who you approach, although most accommodations such as food and general wares are easily sold. Many of the buildings in the city proper have been shuttered and closed, abandoned to the elements. Those of you in the know have heard rumors that this entire settlement is to be condemned, and only the Orien enclave around the lightning rail station will remain. Somehow, you get the feeling that the house wouldn't enjoy the loss of business.

But none of you are here for sightseeing purposes. Your missives all gave the same meeting point: in front of the statue of Queen Wroann, near the town square. The old stones of Vathirond betray its history as the foundation of the nation of Wroat, before there ever was a Galifar. Perhaps in the days to come, it will be forced to return to its roots. The statue itself is hard to miss: the former royal's features are strong, poised and staring out at an invisible danger. In one hand, she wields an engraved scepter, and in the other a great blade striking down at a serpent beneath her feet. The figure standing in the statue's shadow steps out as the first of you approach. A rail thin man in civilian clothes, but everything about him screams highborn. At the very least, he's obviously a military brat of some kind.

"I was starting to think nobody was coming."

[bcool999]

Ethan

Stepping out the lightning rail station dressed in his darkweave civilians clothing, Ethan takes a look around Vathirond. It was the closest he had ever been to the Mournlands, and despite all the stories he heard about the place, the dead grey wall a few miles out of town were formidable indeed. "Gods what a dump... Are you sure we are meeting here Shim?" Ethan says to his 'squire' who accompanied him on the torturous train ride through Thrane.

[Mechanix]

Autumn

"You should know I always arrive on my own time. Travelling by foot has grown... hazardous lately."

The tall woman throws back the hood of her cape - not anything impressive, but a worn-out green travelling cloak, stained by mud and rain, torn by thorn and brambles. The silver beads tied in the enchanted braids of her hair shimmer and jingle in the sun. She takes one lolng look around, casually pushing her untidy hair behind her shoulder, and finally her amber, slit-pupilled eyes fall on the man.

"These are trying times, and I should like to know what warranted such a trip."

[3SecondCultist]

The man steps forward once more to address you. His eyes are dark and his features stern. If you look closely enough, you can see the first traces of silver where age has begun to set in. in fact, there is something imminently notable about his features, as though you've seen them somewhere before. Maybe in a book, or at a gala long ago. He carries what looks like a plain sword in its sheath, and you get the feeling that he knows how to use it.

"You are indeed in the right place, Major. My office does not make such mistakes." His voice effortlessly adopts a new drawl, and his posture changes slightly. If he wasn't waiting here for you, he could have been anybody. "Yer here cuz you were summoned. That's all. And y'all came, by the looks of it. I guess y'all can call me Kor." As soon as he says the name, the man returns to his initial character. "I suppose you should follow me now. I assure you, if I meant harm to any of you, you would have already been crossed off."

With a lazy gesture, Kor waves towards the northern edge of the city. As far as any of you know, the only thing there worth visiting is the headquarters of the Brelish Border Patrol.

Spoiler

Show

Anyone is welcome to roll Knowledge (Local) or Knowledge (Nobility) to recognize this man.

[Rofltrollcopter]

Joresh walked off the train with a copy of the Sharn Inquisitive with the headline Hijackers Foiled: Terror on the Golden Dragon tucked under his arm. Out of all the strange and wondrous things he had seen in Khorvaire, he was most intrigued by the concept of the media. The mass dissemination of information to all citizens of a country opened up several interesting possibilities. He looked up and saw the pale mists of the Mournlands just a few miles away, and his mood became somber. It was a reminder of how much was at stake. The day-to-day struggles of life in Khorvaire amounted to nothing in the face of the true threats.

He slowly made his way towards the town, shedding his disguise as he went. He pulled the colored contacts from his eyes and shifted his stance back to his unnaturally graceful gait. He didn't bother hiding his identity as a Kalashtar anymore.

Joresh strode into the square, pausing for a brief moment to gaze up at the statue of Queen Wroann. It was an odd feeling, to mourn for the loss of a country he never knew. In Joresh's opinion the fall of Galifar was easily the greatest tragedy in modern history, and the consequences were still felt to this day.

I take it you sent those missives? Joresh considered peering into this man's mind for answers, but he resisted the temptation.

[n0ble]

Calandras

Ethan

Stepping out the lightning rail station dressed in his darkweave civilians clothing, Ethan takes a look around Vathirond. It was the closest he had ever been to the Mournlands, and despite all the stories he heard about the place, the dead grey wall a few miles out of town were formidable indeed. "Gods what a dump... Are you sure we are meeting here Shim?" Ethan says to his 'squire' who accompanied him on the torturous train ride through Thrane.

As Calandras gingerly steps off the train and into the station he too takes in the surroundings of the city. "Whatever gods have protected this city have long since left major. Even so, I feel as though the missive was correct, sir." A hint of derision rises in an otherwise innocent voice as he says the words gods. Inwardly the factotum glumly reflects on where he's been taken War makes everything more ugly he sighes.

The man steps forward once more to address you. His eyes are dark and his features stern. If you look closely enough, you can see the first traces of silver where age has begun to set in. in fact, there is something imminently notable about his features, as though you've seen them somewhere before. Maybe in a book, or at a gala long ago. He carries what looks like a plain sword in its sheath, and you get the feeling that he knows how to use it.

"You are indeed in the right place, Major. My office does not make such mistakes." His voice effortlessly adopts a new drawl, and his posture changes slightly. If he wasn't waiting here for you, he could have been anybody. "Yer here cuz you were summoned. That's all. And y'all came, by the looks of it. I guess y'all can call me Kor." As soon as he says the name, the man returns to his initial character. "I suppose you should follow me now. I assure you, if I meant harm to any of you, you would have already been crossed off."

With a lazy gesture, Kor waves towards the northern edge of the city. As far as any of you know, the only thing there worth visiting is the headquarters of the Brelish Border Patrol.

Spoiler

Show

Anyone is welcome to roll Knowledge (Local) or Knowledge (Nobility) to recognize this man.

The Factotum's eyes flit to the major, with a look that says something between 'told you so' and apprehension. Quashing his fear, Calandras looks at the firs the major and then Kor, searching his mind for an answer as to who the mysterious individual might be. "The Border Patrol Station?" Calandras inquires innocently as he can, as his eyes calmly scan the kalashtar and green-cloaked woman.

Spoiler: OCC

Show

Knowledge (local) roll to see who this guy is: [roll]1d20+6[roll]
Whoops messed it up, gonna post it in the OCC thread.

[bcool999]

Ethan

Sighing as the highborn who wished to be called Kor threatens them while showing of his theater skills, Ethan says, "Saber rattling right at the start huh? I had a great spot back home for that without being dragged half way across the five nations thank you very much." Catching the glance Shim sent him, he holds off telling 'Kor' that he could put three bolts in him before he got halfway to drawing his blade and instead says, "Lead on." before falling into step behind the man.

[CandyLaser]

Orlov - traveling as Beren - made his way to Vathirond by lightning rail. During the journey, he inspected the machinery and magic that made the lightning rails with a critical eye, noting things he'd have done differently. As his destination grew closer and the dead-gray mists of the Mournland loomed larger on the horizon, his thoughts turned maudlin. The death of Cyre had nearly been the death of his House, as well, and being so close to this reminder of the terrible day when the House was torn apart cemented his resolve.

On arrival, he disembarked, along with a few other passengers, and made his way to the stature. When he got there, Kor and the others were just leaving - so he scrambled to catch up. As he joined the others, he introduced himself. "Beren d'Cannith, at your service. Does anyone know where we're heading?"

[Rofltrollcopter]

Joresh sighed audibly at the sight of the pissing contest between the two military men. He felt the beginnings of a migraine coming on. Harath's presence had been particularly distracting lately, and even the slightest agitation could be amplified by the spirit's influence.

As the ragtag crew began to move along, he caught the gaze of the Karnathi's assistant. Joresh returned it with a nod, dismissing the man from his mind completely.

<He is a sharp one. I think you'll like him.> Hero spoke into his mind.

Is he now? Joresh thought. So he isn't some lackey after all. He gave the man a second look over.

<I'm going to say hello> <Please don't>

Calandras suddenly heard a voice speak into his mind. It sounded like an eager ten year old boy.
<Hi! I'm Hero. It's really nice to meet you. What's your name?>

Joresh ignored the errant psicrystal and turned around to greet the man catching up with the group. We are going to the Border Patrol Station. Only the Soverigns know why. Perhaps something came out the Mournland. He offered him his hand. The name's Joresh by the way

[rypt]

Esara

A white-feathered falcon alights on the top of the queen's scepter moments before Esara steps into the square. With her hands tucked into the pockets of her coat, she approaches the assembled group at a relaxed pace, an appraising eye looking over each of the others in turn.

"More than I expected," she remarks as she steps nearer, weighing the likelihood that the size of the group had been dictated by practical concerns rather than political ones.

Once she has taken measure of the diverse party gathered to her left, she turns to the wisp of a man standing to her right, meeting his gaze with a spark of recognition and the slightest hint of a smile. When he introduces himself simply as Kor, forgoing any title or honorific, she bows her head respectfully but says nothing.

Amused by the possibility that none of the others realize that they have been summoned by the crown prince of Breland, her smile widens fully at the Karrnathi's comment about 'saber rattling,'

[3SecondCultist]

As he walks, Kor only nods in agreement, letting you converse amongst yourselves. The particularly sharp-eyed among you notice that he is suppressing a smile at the first signs of your greeting. If he took offense to Ethan's comment about saber-rattling, he isn't showing it. "The Station, yes. I would tell you more about the mission now, but anybody could be listening out here. One can never be cautious enough." The seven of you following suit, he leads you up and over a few streets. Here, the thoroughfare is slightly busier with more workmen and what look like more of the Border Patrol men. It seems as though the local administration is placing the bulk of their defense along their northern promontory, as though preparing for a new threat from that direction.

After a couple more minutes of walking, you all arrive. The Border Patrol Station is what one might expect from a militia headquarters: a squat stone building, it has little in the way of embellishment. And yet, its heay functionality has a kind of grace to it, and the Brelish banner over the door gives it a kind of pomp that can only be found in this nation's more historic cities. Two iron doors and a set of barred windows are visible between the colonnade that is the entrance to the station.

Inside, you are met with legions of men and women more deadly than any who wield a sword: the sounds of their pens scratching out requisition orders on soft vellum echoes through the hall. The administrative office of the Border Patrol pays you no mind, though, as Kor leads you down one of the halls further at the back of the building. There, you are met with yet another barred door. There is something different about the air here, something reeking of abjuration. You can feel it brush against your skin, but never quite touch you. Kor turns smartly, opening the door with a key produced from one of his sleeves. "I will watch the door. He is waiting for you inside."

[Rofltrollcopter]

Thank you Joresh nods politely and goes into the next room.

[n0ble]

<Hello Hero. Long way from Adar aren't you?> Calandras thinks, smiling inwardly at the voices' cheerful, if misplaced, optimism. As the group makes there way towards and into the Border Patrol station, Calandras takes in the scribes. Always someone behind a desk he thinks as he remembers a previous profession, I wonder what they're writing. a man can dream I suppose As the group approaches the door, the abjuration in the air prickles Calandras skin ever so slightly. He waits for the Major to go before him.

[bcool999]

Ethan

Nodding to the others who arrive, Ethan remains quiet as they make their way into the border patrol station. Reminds me of a command tent. Ethan thinks to himself as he enters the door Kor opened for him.

[CandyLaser]

Orlov plays his role to the hilt, doing his best to seem a bit befuddled and entirely harmless. He looks around the Border Patrol station with wide eyes, taking in the sights - and doing his best to file away anything of political and military importance that he happens to notice.

He certainly notices the electric crackle of magical wards as he follows Ethan through the door that Kor opened. Professional, he thinks.

[3SecondCultist]

The figure to meet you at the door is massive. A warforged by the looks of him, and certainly a war veteran. Its plates are made of what look like adamantine, and vicious spikes protrude at almost every angle. His face is forged into a visor, and you can see two glowing red eyes underneath the metal shell. He wears a tattered cloak – one that appears slightly too small for him – over his shoulders, and carries a decorated greatsword at his belt. The way he stands seems awkward, almost, as if he’s uncomfortable in his own skin. Or perhaps he just doesn’t like interacting with people. Still, his figure is hard to ignore. He appraises all of you once, assessing your threat levels before letting you pass one at a time.

The room is large, pillars cutting up the light from the everbright lanterns on the walls. Judging by the size of the Patron Station, this room seems to be set square in the middle of the floor plan. There are no windows to speak of; your surroundings are polished stone. In the center of the room sits a large table, covered in maps of various cities that have been written on. The largest by far is a drawing of Khorvaire itself, with dramatic red 'X' marks over certain sites. It doesn't take a genius to figure out what is being mapped. All of you have heard of the recent attacks, of what's been going on in the major cities. The bombings. A minor attack in Stormhome first, and then three in Fairhaven, Korth, and now - just five days ago - Wroat.

"Come in and sit down. I'll have them bring chairs for you." The voice, spoken from the shadows, is accustomed to command. It is as deep as it is melodic, and the man it belongs to also fits that bill. He is broad in the shoulder and looks strong in the arm, with a great mane of white hair. He carries a large axe, and carries the distinct outline of armor beneath a great cloak and robe. By his side stir two massive tigers, with alternating stripes of black and white. The predators eye you with a keen intelligence... and a hunger that has yet to be sated. But with a flick of his finger, both animals stand down. He breaks out into an easy smile, as Kor prepares to close the door behind you.

"I take it that a few of you have figured out just who I am. For now, you should just dispense with the formalities and call me Boranel. Better yet, call me 'Bor'. Anything but politics, right?" The King of Breland lets out a great booming laugh. "I have a proposal, one I think might interest you. I learned a long time ago that 'traditional solutions' such as sending in military divisions doesn't quite get the job done, and that, for all the kings and queens, this world rests on the back of adventurers like you. I used to count myself among your number, but then I became... well, important. And now I must rely on outside counsel to help me with a mission."

"But before I can outline the exact parameters of the job, I need to know that you're willing to do it. I will be revealing classified documents of the highest clearance in this meeting, and those unwilling to aid me will be doing my magi a service by leaving now. Less memories to wipe, and all that." The twinkle in the older man's eye has dimmed slightly, and it casts his face in a more menacing light. But just then he breaks out into another of his celebrated smiles.

[PairO'Dice Lost]

Ignatius' mood has been fairly bleak since he arrived in Vathirond yesterday evening, even given the air of calm peacefulness around the shrine at which he stayed the night. Preoccupied as he was with old memories, he kept sneaking glances out the window at the wall of mist marking the boundaries of his former homeland, to the point that it took him an extra half-hour this morning to attain the proper state of mind for his daily communion with the Host

He thus traveled in dour silence to the appointed meeting location, nodded briefly in respect to those already present by way of introduction, and remained silent as Kor led everyone to the station. The royal heir, coordinating this himself instead of sending a trusted agent? And then serving as a mere door guard? the gnome mused to himself as his gaze wandered around the room--though trying to spot any written information of interest was likely futile given all the human-height desks. The situation must be even more dire than Mogan led me to believe.

Now, Ignatius nods respectfully to Kor as he follows the others into the room and is introduced to the king, the one person who might reasonably find a crown prince serving as his door guard, though that doesn't explain why Kor is doing so personally. His mood lifts as Boranel's cheer pushes the looming specters of the past out of his mind for now, and he focuses himself on the present. Aureon, grant me the insight to see this mission completed quickly and efficiently; Olladra, grant us your aid and keep us safe from those who would do us harm, he prays silently, before stepping forward and saying in a soft but firm voice, "Whatever the parameters of this mission, by Dol Arrah you have my full commitment."

[Rofltrollcopter]

<Oh! Good guess, or was that a guess? >

Joresh ease dropped on the conversation with a bemused expression. Few Khorvarians knew anything about Sarlona. Those who did would only know of the Riedran Empire, the massive country which spanned the majority of the continent and had a larger population then all of the Five Nations combined. For centuries, Riedra had spurned all contact with the outside world. It was only a couple of decades ago, in the waning days of the Last War, that Riedra began trading with the outside world. Still, Riedra was a mystery to the majority of Khorvarians. Foreigners that went to Riedra were only permitted to be in select port cities. In modern times, Riedran silks and carpets were a symbol of prestige for the elite. The Empire subsidized minerals, lumber, and other supplies used for the post-war reconstruction, which had been a boon for industry in the Five Nations.

If few Khorvarians knew anything about Riedra, it was a rare person who knew anything about Adar. The country was isolated from the outside world, due to a combination of its unique geography, the fifteen century siege by the Empire, and the Shroud. Adar had no formal relations nor conducted trade with any country in Khorvaire. Some Khorvarians knew that Adar was the original homeland of the Kalashtar. Any practical minded political analyst who specialized in far eastern affairs would say that while they sympathized with Adar's plight, the advantages that the Empire offered were simply too great to ignore. As long as they were willing to ship cheap products, who cares if the large Empire to the far east had no respect for human rights or the sovereignty of their neighbors?

As for Psionics, they were rare in Khorvaire. About as rare as Arcane Magic had been in his homeland. One of the first memories Joresh had of Khorvaire was walking through streets illuminated by magical lighting at night. Psionics and Magic had some similarities, but the knowledge was not easily transferred. Joresh's understanding of spellcraft would barely put him at the level of an apprentice, and he didn't doubt that the reverse would be true for a competent mage attempting to understand psionics.

As for the Kalashtar's war agianst the Inspired, they didn't speak of it to Outsiders. There were only very few exceptions to that rule. Partially it was done out of a sense of pride. The Kalashtar viewed at as their war, they didn't think they needed the help of outsiders. There was an element of truth to that. Adar had survived for 1500 years after all. Still, Joresh believed this would bite them in the ass someday.

Spoiler: Source:

Show

http://archive.wizards.com/default.a...ebds/20060925a
http://archive.wizards.com/default.a...ebds/20050808a

~~~~~
Thrane is the only country that hasn't been attacked yet. Joresh muses.

Joresh wasn't terribly fond of the concept of royalty. The concept of rank inherited solely through birth was a foreign concept in both Adar and Riedra. Furthermore, the ir'Wynarn family had proven that they lacked the ability to govern during the Last War. The whole damned affair started as one family feud. On the otherhand, Joresh wasn't an expert on Khorvarian politics by any means, but he did know that Boranel was one of the principle architects of the Treaty of Thronehold. King Boranel was a man to be respected. He abandoned his plan to use his psionic powers to probe the mind of their mysterious sponsor. Joresh wasn't that ambitious.

Joresh bowed before the King. Your Majesty. I swear that I will do whatever it takes to protect the peace. If you can forgive my boldness, why would you feel the need to call upon adventurers? Surely your servants, the Dark Lanterns, would be more then capable of handling whatever challenge we face.

Inside, he does his best to conceal his excitement. A meeting with one of the rulers of the Five Nations? It would have taken decades for him to get a contact of his stature. It seemed that Joresh's path to acquiring power was off to an excellent start.

[bcool999]

Ethan

Ethan hadn't met a king before, he had seen plenty of pictures of them in newspaper and such, but if he ever actually saw one in person it was usually at a huge event where he was just a face in the crowd. Still, he had to give the King of Breland high marks for having not only an adamantine warforged to guard him, but being introduced while flanked by tigers.

"Well... on behalf of Karrnath I suppose I should thank you for your invitation your majesty." Ethan says with a bow, "However, I also have personal reasons to accept this request since a friend of mine was too close to the attack on Korth for comfort, so I won't be backing out. I am Major Ethan Farstriker of Karrnath by the way, though you probably read up on all of us to some extent already. This," Says Ethan clapping Calandras on the shoulder, "Is my squire, Calandras Baal. I'd trust him with my life so I am sure you can trust him and myself on this mission, but I won't speak for him if he wants to back out now."

[3SecondCultist]

Boranel dips his head slowly at Joresh's question, running a hand down to stroke one of the tigers' manes absentmindedly. The great cat purrs, but its slitted eyes never leave you.

"The investigations are ongoing. But I can't trust my own people - they get paid to spy on others, why would I? No, getting aid from outside my own organization is key, especially when we're only beginning the investigation. It could be anybody, really. The Dreaming Dark, the Order of the Emerald Claw... the Lords of Dust, perhaps? You have heard at least some of these names before, I assume. Or it could be a new player on the scene. Either way, there are too many unknown variables to involve my people directly."

Around you, you can see Kor and several others who could be Brelani or just as easily be mercenaries for hire, standing guard around the entrance. Many of them continue to watch you, as though waiting for any of you to turn on the king and sign your death warrant. Boranel furrows his wintry brows at his younger brother.

"Enough of that! If anyone was going to try and kill me, they'd have done it already. Besides, you'd have to be an idiot to try." There's that smile again, as he turns to Ethan now. "I have been made aware of all of your respective talents. You have an impressive record, Major. For all that our nations may be enemies once again very soon, I hold Kaius no ill will. In fact, I believe we can count on his support as well - unofficially, of course."

[Mechanix]

There's a twitch in Autumn's eye, and she suddenly seems a bit more uneasy. Kings and princes... Should I, like, bow or something? Make a curtsey? She shakes her head, chasing the thoughts, and inclines her head in respect as the king reveals himself. Not sure whether to speak, whether she has anything to offer. Then, her eyes rest on the two tigers, and she smiles slightly, a fondness in her eyes. After having remained silent for the entirety of the trip from the statue - merely staring at her companions in turn in a somewhat disquietin fashion - she speaks up.

"I have actually visited Fairhaven following the attacks. Tried to do some good, investigate a bit." she says, her tone cautious. The setting intimidates her. "I got nowhere, found nothing. I lack the skills and connection to achieve anything of that order. I would be glad to help those who may achieve better results."

[CandyLaser]

The fact that Orlov was here at all probably meant that someone had figured out that he wasn't simply Beren the good-natured tinker. That was unfortunate, and he made a mental note to go back and try to plug that leak later. It might be benign - perhaps Boranel had asked House Cannith to recommend someone, and the House leadership settled on Orlov. Another thing to keep track of, he thought.

Despite that there was no chance that he was going to reject this offer. The attacks were a concern for House Cannith, and anything that let him learn more about the current situation was valuable. Out loud, he said, "W...well, I'm not sure if I'm the man you want, but I'll do anything to help. These attacks threaten us all, and threaten the peace."

[n0ble]

<I never guess, Hero.> the thought crosses his mind in a monotone, noncommittal manner.

As the major clasps his shoulder, Calandras sheepishly dips his head "M'lord, if the majors on board then so am I. Especially if it means saving lives." he says with a feigned jovialness seemingly at odds with the seriousness room. Internally, his mind turns to darker thoughts Got to keep a close eye on Ethan, for both our sakes. Besides, the loss of life is... regrettable. The violence never ends it would seem he thinks with distaste. Still, that statement about being aware of our talents... sounds like a threat as much as it is praise.

He buries the thought in his mind instead choosing to look at the map. From an investigative standpoint it makes sense to start with the most recent of attacks. Regardless of motive, Boranel's involvement means I can give them something without placing Ethan in direct danger.

[3SecondCultist]

The King examines each of you in turn, watching for any hint, any sign of dishonesty. He seems to read something different in each of your faces: he comes away from Ignatius looking refreshed, and seems to share an instant sympathy with Autumn's intent. It's obvious he doesn't know quite what to make of Esara, and is impressed by Ethan. The lines on his face soften when they take in Joresh, and yet the king seems guarded around 'Beren'. Boranel looks to Calandras last, and his expression is completely unreadable. But eventually, he nods again. The King of Breland seems to have judged each of you worthy, in your own way.

"Let's get on with it, then. Nobody wants another Last War, and I don't get the impression that time is on our side." From one of the pockets of his traveling cloak, the king draws out a piece of parchment with a boar emblem on it. Inside is a few innocuous pages of parchment. Judging by the seal, and the heading: "From the desk of the King's Citadel", it looks like some kind of official report. Indeed, when the king places it on the table, you get a better sense of it. Boranel shifts his weight back in his chair, as if to indicate that you can and should read it.

Spoiler: After-Action Report - 12th day of Nymm, 998 YK

Show

Six hours since the event. Rubble still being cleared from Galifar Museum – many artifacts and civilians unaccounted for. Residual fires have all been suppressed, and all injured parties treated by House Jorasco healers at the scene. Bodies of all the deceased currently being stored in Temple of the Sovereign Host. Estimated casualties of the event in the low triple digits. Curator of the museum presumed deceased. Four squadrons of the King’s Shields dispatched to help with security.

Witnesses in the Museum saw suspect – hereafter referred to as ‘Assailant’ – enter the central atrium just after twelfth hour. Assailant was described as human male, dark hair, average height and build. Was wearing long cloak over civilian clothes, no visible weapons. Did not engage anyone once inside the premises. Assailant was seen smiling, walking into the middle of the crowd. Screaming followed, reported right before the event. Primary incendiary explosion went off immediately, with a sixty-foot primary radius. No survivors. Fire spread quickly to first and second floor wings of the museum. Ensuing structural damage collapsed atrium roof, blocking museum doors. Nearly ten minutes before guards arrived. No further sign of Assailant.

Questions in the issue of timing: the Museum’s new gala opening likely an attractive factor in terms of location. Assailant wanted to exact maximum casualties. Reports further suggest Assailant different in appearance from other attackers. Possible suicide, will need to investigate further.

"That's only the precis, but it sums up all of the more salient points of the report. Thought I'd spare you some bureaucracy. We only had a few people on the scene in the aftermath, so this is the result of many hours of interviews and interrogations of survivors, combined with a few low level divinations. The body of the Assailant was never found."

[bcool999]

Ethan

Reading through the lines of the report, Ethan nods as the details more or less match up with the attack in Korth. Whoever is behind this wanted to make sure there were massive casualties in low security public areas... They wanted it to be known that these attacks were deliberate and not something governments can cover up as accidents. With the public outcry and old hatreds still burning after the war, it seems as though this is a deliberate attempt to reignite hostilities...

Rubbing a knuckle to his temple in thought, Ethan says, "My first instinct is that this isn't any of the five nations doing this in any official capacity... bombing civilians and getting every nation on guard takes away the element of surprise if a nation wanted to get ahead in a new war..." Sighing Ethan continues, "However, you can't rule out dissidents in each country that wanted the war to continue so now they are stirring things up. Then there are other groups, cultists, fanatics, and more who just want to watch the blood flow once more. I think the best way to approach this is to first find out how they accomplish their strikes. Do we know what kind of incendiary they are using?"

[Rofltrollcopter]

Well said. Joresh nodded at the Karnathi's words. Except if the attackers' motivation was to stir up resentment agianst each other to encourage the start of another war, it obviously hasn't been successful. He inclined his head in the direction of the King. Nobody in the highest levels of government seem to seriously consider each other as suspects. At least that is the case in Breland, and you mentioned King Kaius was also supporting this project? What about Aundair and Thrane? If we presume that the same party was responsible for these attacks, it could potentially drive the Five Nations closer together.

He looked over the report and frowned. This doesn't exactly give us a lot to work with. Are there any similar reports about the attacks in Aundair and Karnath that the respective authorities have made available to us? Perhaps there is a common element that might become more apparent if we have a chance to compare them to each other. Thrane is the only major country on the continent that hasn't been attacked yet...

Spoiler: Rolls:

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Based on the description from the AAR, does it sound like any form of psionics were involved?

Psicraft: (1d20+17)[37]
Knowledge (Psionics): (1d20+14)[18]

[n0ble]

As the kings eyes look at him, Calandras matches his stare with a blank look. He knows something, not sure what but he knows. As the King places the document on the table,Calandras walks over in a slow gait, regarding the document with the others.

"Hm" he says, nodding in agreement with Ethan and Joresh "What kind of things went missing? You said many artifacts and other magic items were missing in the fallout. Could the attack have been a cover for something else? A theft of some sort? Especially how so many eyes are drawn to the civilian casualties and how it will inflame the peace amongst the Five, I doubt people would be worried over missing items. Even if none of the attacks resulted in thefts, it might bear thinking about them as a distraction for a larger purpose. Regardless, I should like to examine the site of the attack in more detail, should the opportunity permit me to of course."

Spoiler: DM Only

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I'll have to consult Aborghast at a later date, he or the Blood might know something. At the thought of the vampire Shimmris feels a slight tremor of rage course through his body before squishing it back down. Wrong place to get mad Shimmris, very wrong place.

[CandyLaser]

"Hmmm... was the explosion magical or alchemical in nature?" Orlov asks. "This report leaves that out. Given the size of the blast, I'd suspect magic, but, well, enough alchemist's fire in one place could cause quite a blast."

[rypt]

Esara

The King's Protector is every bit his reputation, and under his iron-eyed inspection, Esara deems it prudent to remove her hands from her pockets. She steps lightly into the windowless room, surveying the polished stone and the collection of maps spread across the table. Her elf-blooded eyes linger on the red 'X' crossed over Stormhome and her faces flushes with warmth, her hands tightening into fists. As Kor begins to close the door behind her, she scans the table's periphery, searching out the only one for whom the heir to the throne and commander of the Citadel would willingly volunteer himself as a simple sentry. From his seat across the table, the Bear of Breland, King Boranel ir'Wynarn, smiles as only a king can smile. Esara seems to relax somewhat, exhaling a steadying breath.

When Boranel asks her to commit to his cause, Esara steps nearer to the table. "I suppose this is what an investigation looks like." She shakes her head. "I wouldn't know because no one in my house has bothered to conduct one." It is obvious she could say more of the matter, but she stops herself there. She looks up at the king and smiles a courtly smile, a difficult smile. A smile that promises all the things a smile shouldn't. "You can count me in."

[3SecondCultist]

Rubbing his hands over his bushy eyebrows, Boranel sighs, a rattling thing. "Yes, these are many of the questions my operatives have been asking as well. The problem with obtaining information about these attacks is that so few see them coming, and the sheer intensity of the explosions leaves little in the way of bodies for us to try and divine from. We're operating under the theory that they're magical - or perhaps psionic - in nature, but we don't know where the explosion itself is coming from. Most of those in a position to see something are dead now." Rising from his chair for the first time, the ruler of one of the most prosperous nations of Khorvaire slowly makes his way around the great map on the table. He stares at it for another deep moment, as though it will reveal its secrets that way.

"As I have said, there are those in power who want to see these attacks go away. But that hasn't stopped the people of Khorvaire from returning to a more... barbaric mindset. Public pressure on my office is higher than it's been since the Treaty of Thronehold was signed." When he laughs this time, it's nowhere near as cheerful. "Even as a king, I am not above the laws of my country. If these attacks are allowed to continue, who knows what could happen? Did you know there is talk in Breland of resorting to a parliamentary system after my death? They could just as easily impeach me a bit earlier than scheduled, if I lost enough support. A wise ruler thinks towards the future like an adult, not just about the present circumstances. No, I suspect whoever is behind this will be successful if they are not stopped."

"Obviously, I have yet to give up hope. Kaius is sending me the report from the Korth attack by trade road, paid off a group of independent contractors such as yourselves. My office should have it within a day or two. Patience is the price of secrecy, unfortunately. If you like, I can ask them to forward it to you. Nothing from Aurala yet, she's been lukewarm on this partnership from the start. The feelings are mutual, though: I don't trust her either. As our unofficial team on the ground, you will have free reign to coordinate whatever investigations you deem appropriate."

And after all that, he returns Esara's smile, meeting her gaze and holding it for a moment. He seems to understand the significance of what the Lyrandar scion isn't saying.