Crash & Burn IC

[3SecondCultist]

Clapping his hands together in a clear gesture of satisfaction - perhaps the first since you arrived - Boranel finally makes the motion to usher the seven of you out. The two tigers at his feet growl once more, and the silent warforged guardian takes it as a signal to move by the doors, ready to open them at a moment's notice.

"I will need some time to contact House Orien - or rather, my brother will. We'll tell them to meet you just outside of town, to the west just off the trade road. Don't go more than a mile out, I don't want anyone getting lost. But a big group such as yourselves teleporting out on the streets might raise uncomfortable questions, questions we want to go unanswered. If you need me, you know how to make contact." The Bear of Breland allows himself another smile. Even now, you aren't sure if he is trying to reassure you or himself of the stability of his situation. His is a surety born of noble heritage, but one has to wonder just how shaken this monarch has been by the Last War. He seems tired, somehow, as though his smiles have too often been met by some unkind workings in the world. It is a brutally honest face.

The portal has opened now, spilling the light from the Patrol Station back into the safe room. Boranel offers each of you his large, weathered hand to shake before you leave. "You know how to get in touch, should the need arise. I bid you all very fond farewells, and may the Host themselves guide you. Gods know, we might need their guidance know, hm?" He winks at Ignatius, before waving his hand. The spiked warforged makes it very clear that you are to leave, and soon. The king has made his decision.

[CandyLaser]

Orlov shook the king's hand, smiling gratefully. "We'll do all we can, your Majesty." After that, he let himself be hustled out. Boranel seemed dangerously perceptive, and there was little reason to spend any more time in his presence. The fact that he was vulnerable was interesting, though; a republican Breland would present many opportunities for House Cannith.

[PairO'Dice Lost]

"May the Host smile upon you and your country," Ignatius says as he shakes Boranel's hand, "as they always do, but in these troubled times most of all." Offering a small grin in an attempt to match the king's levity, he adds, "I'm sure I can put in a good word for you." Silently, Ignatius thanks the Host that the king gave the messenger stone to someone else; he's been mistaken for a marked scion of Sivis a time or two dozen in the past whenever handling Sivis items, and it's always an awkward experience he has no desire to repeat any time soon.

Once everyone has left the king's presence, the gnome sidles up to Orlov. "You idea to suggest teleportation to the king was an excellent one. I was loath to bring up a more expensive alternative plan, given that he'd already seemed decided on using the lightning rail and had spent quite a few dragons on our mission already, and I was torn between my duty to the mission in revisiting the Wroat investigation and my duty to the Host in saving as many lives as possible. You've allowed me to proceed with a clear conscience, and for that you have my sincere thanks."

[Rofltrollcopter]

Joresh accepted the King's handshake I will do whatever it takes. Joresh promised. Even if I have to protect Breland from youself

He turned to face Kor. Can you send a runner for us when its time to depart? I imagine we will find some place to hold up until its time to go. He strolled through the exit along with the others. It's a good plan. I'm not confident that we will find anything, but I will not mind being proven wrong.

Once they were back in the administrative room and far away from the special security measures set up for the King, Joresh began to think. The King blatantly ignored my question about why we summoned us to meet him in Valthirond... If his priority right now is to muster his army, why isn't he in the Capital or at one of the floating fortresses? Perhaps one of these drones has an answer. He focused, tapping into the inner reserve of power that all Psions possessed. He opened up his mind to hear the thoughts of the people around him. He was so used to having that particular ability that it became as natural a sense to him as seeing or hearing.

Spoiler: OOC:

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Manifesting Read Thoughts. Spending 3 Powerpoints and his Psionic Focus to activate Psionic Endowment.

The net Will save is DC 19.

Suppressing the psionic display using a concentration skill check. Joresh's concentration modifer is 15, so he cannot fail the check.

While they were going through the building, he walked next to the major. Ethan heard Joresh's voice in his mind, relayed by Joresh's psicrystal. <You raised a good point about the consequence of a Karnathi soldier getting caught in Thrane. We would be practically doing the enemies' work for them. Although that does give me an idea.... Anyway, it might be worth seeing if there is a way for you to publicly cut ties with your government. I know that's a lot to ask, but you yourself explained the potential consequences better then I could have. It sounds like King Kaius is on board with this project, so I'm sure getting reinstated after the mission is
complete would be trivial. >


Once outside the border patrol station, he stretched his arms and yawned. It sounds like we have some down time before we head out, so why don't we take the chance to get to know each other before we face certain death? I'll go first. The name's Joresh, my family name is of no consequence, and as you probably could have inferred from the questions I asked, I am a Psion. More specifically, I am a Shaper. For the arcane magic users among you, think of me as the equivalent of a Conjurer. I specialize in creating and manipulating matter.

Joresh closed his eyes and held his right palm outstretched. A shimmering rift opened in the air above him, and from that rift emerged a wooden goblet containing a red liquid. He grasped the goblet in his waiting hand and had a sip. The best part? Anything I create will dissipate after about 8 hours. So I never have to worry about hangovers. he winked. The catch is I can't do minerals, and very few of the objects I create are of exceptional quality. I would have a hard time trying to persuade someone to buy this vintage.

Spoiler

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Spending 1 power point to manifest minor creation.

As Kor mentioned, they aren't many Psions around on the continent, so hopefully I can pull out some trick that the enemy won't be able to anticipate. I can also..

<Your boring>

Suddenly, everyone in the group heard the voice of a loud ten year old boy speak into their minds.<AND I'M HERO. I JUST KNOW WE ARE GOING TO BE BEST FRIENDS. WE ARE GOING TO GET ALONG SOOOO WELL. BEST FRIENDS.> The voice had the enthusiasm of an eager puppy.

[CandyLaser]

"You're quite welcome," Orlov replied to the gnome. "I, too, wanted to see the blast site in Wroat, and teleportation is always the most efficient mode of travel."

[3SecondCultist]

Kor, being the only one to follow you outside, turns to the psion and by extension, all of you. For those of you paying attention, he seems to have remained impassive throughiut most of the meeting. At the mention of a runner, he nods straight away.

"If you like, we will dispatch a runner to your location before you need to head out. It shouldn't be more than an hour, so don't go too far."

As Joresh tries to scan the minds of those around him, he finds that he is unsuccessful. Apparently, paper pushing is a great way to avoid mental manipulation. Or at least, these particular Brelish are stronger of mind than others of their country. The streets of Vathirond are as they were when you entered. You can see a dump of an inn across the street, and at the corner a somewhat more hospitable looking deli. The aroma of fresh produce from the fields of northern Breland wafts down the avenue to meet you.

[bcool999]

Ethan

Clasping the bear of Breland's arm in a soldier's handshake, Ethan says, "Here's hoping that the next time we meet it will be at your palace celebrating our success. Instead of seeing one another from across a battlefield." Nodding to the king's guards and keeping his hands where they can see them, Ethan makes his exit. Only to be startled shortly after returning to the administrative offices by Joresh.

<Bloody Blazes Joresh! Warn a man before intruding on his thoughts! And what foolishness is it that you are suggesting? Break from Karrnath? Even if it is just for show I'd never even consider it. Besides, Boranel said my King is unofficially supportive of this plan which means if I turn traitor even as a ruse it wouldn't be guaranteed to be forgiven. I would have to set that up ahead of time. Besides, if we get caught it won't matter whether I am or am not a soldier, we likely will have failed either way, so best to be worrying about not getting caught rather than what comes after that.> Faced screwed up in concentration as he replies with this unusual medium, he glances over at Joresh to make sure it was successful before introductions start.

Ethan nods as Joresh explains his abilities, Psionics, magic, it's all the same to me really... before his mind gets blasted by a loud obnoxious voice, Great... I don't even know how to cover my ears when I am not even hearing the voice with them...

Turning to address Joresh, Ethan says, "Thanks Joresh, your abilities look quite impressive, but you may want to reign... Hero? In a bit if you can." Turning to the group as a whole, Ethan says, "Right, as you all heard when I introduced myself earlier, I am Major Ethan Farstricker of Karrnath, though lets keep it at Ethan for the time being. I was in the war serving as an infantry crossbowman. I worked my way up to a Major, and attended the military academy of Rekkenmark after the treaty was signed. I don't much care for magic since it messed me up pretty bad during the war once, but I won't hold it against any of you who practice it. I am a good shot with my crossbow," Ethan says as he brings the massive weapon to hand, which may be more accurately described as a small ballista then a large crossbow, you note as he draws it that he brought it to hand with exceptional quickness, and that Ethan doesn't seem to have any crossbow bolts on his person. "So if we run into any trouble, I might be able to dissuade whomever is causing us grief."

It is obvious from Ethan's smirk that he has undersold his abilities somewhat. His weapon is meticulously maintained and those who examine it with eyes attuned to magic can see that a small fortune must have went into it's enchantments. Besides that, the man himself holds it with practiced ease, and acts as though he could have the massive weapon's string drawn back and ready to fire in an instant.

[n0ble]

As Calandras shakes the King's hand a slight, if slightly sombre grin passes over his face, "Pity we couldn't meet in private. No matter, I'm sure we'll meet again." As he scoops up his payment from the table he turns one final time towards the King, "For whatever it's worth, I think your doing some good here your majesty. Best of Luck.

As he leaves into the hallway he shivers at the blaring voice from Joresh <Greetings, Hero, I'm glad to see you've maintained your optimism.>

"I suppose I'll chime in since the Major is, my name is Clandras Baal. Like Ethan over here I'm from Karrnath. I worked as a logistics and supply clerk during the war." And interrogator. he thinks briefly. In my time in the military I picked up a lot of skills and information, so I suppose I can do a bit of everything. I also have an excellent memory. But a supply clerk pension is crap. So I joined the Major as his squire, pays that much better." he says with a grin.

[rypt]

Esara

As she accepts the king's hand, Esara shifts one foot behind the other and bends low at the knees. "I admit it's been a few years since I've had the opportunity to curtsy," she says with a playful smile, as if to excuse any flaws in her form, a candid admission that seems somewhat at odds with the formality of the gesture. "Your people have always been kind to me," she continues as she rises, "but never moreso than in recent weeks." A clear reference to the Golden Dragon. "I see now that they are a reflection of their king. Thank you."

Joining the others outside, she winces when the telepathic voice of Joresh's psicrystal thunders in her mind. "Well, you're off to a great start," she says quietly, sarcasm heavy in her voice. "You let that one name itself?" she asks, turning to the kalashtar.

"My name is Esara," she says, stepping forward after Ethan and Calandras, "and I am a storm sentry, a protector of my house's airborne interests. I specialize in storm magic, thunderstorms in particular." She grins devilishly, adding, "A shock to no one, I'm sure. I would give you a demonstration, but a city street is hardly the place for such things."

For a moment, it appears as though she has nothing more to say, until a familiar white raptor swoops down to land on her forearm. "And this is Fiowyn," she says proudly. A rare variety of an otherwise common animal, the gyrfalcon's eyes betray a startling intellect. "She is keen-eyed and swift-winged and has been my companion for many years."

Spoiler

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I just wanted to mention that I made a small edit to my last post to better reflect the knowledge I would like for Esara to have about her house's airship operations. Given her history, I imagine Esara knowing the names of all Lyrandar airships, as well as their respective routes and schedules. I also imagine her being able to identify each of them by their appearance.

[CandyLaser]

In the spirit of friendliness, Orlov introduced himself. He didn't quite manage to partake in the spirit of honesty, though. "Beren d'Cannith, tinker and alchemist, at your service. I can only assume I'm here because of that - I suspect when we arrive in Wroat there may be some alchemical residue." As he speaks, he wrings his hands nervously, eyes darting from person to person.

[PairO'Dice Lost]

"I am Ignatius Icorralyn d'Sivis, a priest of the Sovereign Host, as you may have already gathered," Ignatius introduces himself. "One of the Sovereign Speakers, in fact; I'm a member of several different councils in Breland and Aundair--and was a member of several in Cyre, before the...before." A hint of old sorrow enters his tone at the mention of Cyre. "I handled healing and logistics for several Cyran units during the war, and healing, protective magics, divinations, and that sort of thing are still my primary specialty. Nothing as flashy or harmful as the other magic-users among us can do, I'm afraid; I don't have much of a taste for the more offensive magics. For that I rely on my bladework," he pats his sword for emphasis, "courtesy of Cyran military training and the favor of Dol Arrah.

"It's a pleasure to meet everyone," he continues. "It seems to me that we are a well-rounded team, quite well suited to both finding and hopefully neutralizing whoever is behind these attacks. I look forward to working with all of you in the days ahead."

[Mechanix]

The temptation of pulling the cloak back on her face is increasingly hard to resist for Autumn, as she stands outside with the others listening to them deliver their introductions. It makes her feel uneasy, exposed. Vulnerable, even. She knows it's not really her - rather an animalistic instict she herself brought out of her weretouched nature. She forces a smile, but speaks last of all.

"It's a pleasure to meet you all," she says surprisingly sweetly for someone of a gruff appearance, "I am Autumn of Your Lives. Not my birth name, but one I took for myself in the course of my deeds. People used to know me in the Reaches, but I've been wandering the wilds for a few years now, so I can hope those memories passed. I am a student of the ways of nature and survivalism by leisure, and a warrior by trade." She flexes her fingers - the nails seem to shift strangely for a brief moment, a trick of the eye; they are long and sharp, and black. "I fight with claws, teeth and rage. I hope none you is too squeamish when it comes to fighting, as I can be rather... brutal to those who deserve it. I expect we will all work well together."

[Rofltrollcopter]

Joresh winces at the volume of Hero's outburst, then listens quietly as the other party members make their introductions.

Hero responds to Calandras Baal, the one person who showed him attention. <Of course! This is all very exciting! We are going to save lives and fight monsters and all that good stuff! Joresh never stays in one place for a long time, so its nice to get a chance to know other people for once!>

For the first time since the party met him, Joresh looks sheepish and hesitant. I sincerely apologize for his.. behavior. He lifts a silver chain from around his neck, to show a small crystal about half the size of a man's fist. The crystal possesses a core of a yellow material, while the rest of the growth around it is a dark blue color. This is Hero, my psicrystal. He is a construct grown from a bud of my psyche. Despite his idiosyncrasies, he is quite invaluable. After remembering the earlier conversation with the Major, he adds I'm about to speak into your minds. Do not be alarmed. All Kalashtar had an inherent telepathic ability, so sometimes Joresh forgot that other races could be uncomfortable with it.

<Hero can receive and transmit messages from other people. The catch is that all participants in the conversation have to be within 30 feet of him. This will be quite useful when we need to discuss sensitive information, or if we need to coordinate in battle>

Spoiler

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Assume you can use Telepathy as long as your close to Joresh.

Joresh groans at Esara's 'shock' pun. That was uncalled for.

To answer your question Miss Esara, psicrystals are sentient. They usually come up with their own names, which reflects the portion of the psyche they were created from. Except it wasn't originally my psicrystal. When we were growing up, Lan always loved epic stories of battles between good and evil. He wanted to be a Hero...

Joresh chuckles at Beren's introduction. There's no need to be shy, your among friends here.

I'm sure the King had the best alchemists he could find examine the site in Wroat already. Something doesn't seem right here. Considering he was endorsing a covert mission in a foreign country, why would he invite some bookworm to join the meeting if alchemical knowledge was all he is good for? I don't know anything for certain. Either the guy is hiding information from us, or he is practically useless. Either way, he is great cannon fodder.

Joresh grinned at Beren. I'm sure you will be an invaluable member of our group.


Joresh smiled at the Shifter. It was somewhat endearing to see her act shyly, considering her great stature.
You don't need to worry about disturbing my appetite. As long as we get results, I could care less.

[3SecondCultist]

An hour passes surprisingly quickly, as each of you makes your introductions and heads around Vathirond to scrounge up some more gear before your trip to the capital. The turning of time finds each of you standing in the wooded glade beyond the city's perimeter. Nestled between the trade road and the lightning rail track, these woods are nonetheless quite spacious and still lively. Here, the sun-dappled leaves have yet to succumb to summer's end. You can hear the faint call of birds break through the foliage.

Suddenly, you hear another noise. A sharp 'crack' as only magic can make. From a nearby hillock, you see a party of three approaching. Kor leads the two Orien house members, each of whom is dressed in plain traveler's garb. And yet, you can see the silvery sheen of their dragonmarks on their wrists, their necks, anywhere that is not covered by clothing. They have wary eyes, as though not quite sure if they're in the right place.

[COLOR="DarkSlateGray"]"This is it." The commander of the Citadel is as impassive as before. His eyes are deeper waters than you can fathom. "Next stop: Wroat. These two fine gentlemen have offered their one time service to you. Be sure to thank them properly when you are through." Chuckling softly to himself, the heir to Breland strolls out of the glade as though he were at a ball.

An awkward silence ensues, as the two Orien heirs stand at the edge of the glade awkwardly. They seem almost hesitant to approach all of you together, or feel slightly out of place in this relative wilderness. They hold out their hands, in anticipation of a circle.

[PairO'Dice Lost]

Ignatius ambles over to the Orien heirs, smiling warmly to put them at ease. "Greetings, gentlemen," he says, "and thank you for offering us your assistance. May Olladra reward your generosity." He has no doubt that the heirs have already been well-compensated financially for their services, but it never hurts to be polite. He grasps the hand of one of the heirs and says "I believe we're all ready to go?" as he quirks an eyebrow at the group, implying they should come over and join him.

[Rofltrollcopter]

Joresh shrugs and takes the gnome's other hand.

[CandyLaser]

Orlov joins the others and readies himself to teleport.

[Mechanix]

"Hi," Autumn says somewhat awkwardly, one hand resting on the haft of a shiny decorated war axe she somehow acquired within an hour. "Thank you again for your service," she adds politely before joining hands with an Orien on the other side of the forming circle.

[bcool999]

Ethan

Looking rather nervously at the glowing dragonmarks, Ethan nevertheless joins the growing circle. Sighing in resignation to his fate Ethan says, "Just make sure everything of mine stays in the proper place, and I don't end up in a wall, got it?"

That said, Ethan closes his eyes and tenses up waiting for them to get it over with.

[n0ble]

Clandras steps forward, joining a pudgy hand with the Orien. I'll have to inform Aborghast of what's transpired when we reach Wroat. All notions of fear and apprehension vanish from his mind as he mentally prepares himself for the tasks ahead.

[rypt]

Esara

"Lets get this over with," Esara sighs as she steps forward to join the circle, Fiowyn perched on her shoulder. Making only brief eye contact with the Orien heirs, she makes certain to position herself between other members of the party.

[3SecondCultist]

The moment the seven of you bind hands, the two Orien heirs nod. A couple of arcane syllables and gestures later, they close the loop as two points of blue light emerge in the center of the formation. As they grow in intensity, the very air around you seems to warp and collapse under the strain. For a second, all sense of beginning and ending cease, and your bodies feel infinite, consciousness extending over all space simultaneously. Everything is darkness around you.

When you open your eyes again, your surroundings are vastly different. For one thing, the trees are largely gone, and you find yourselves in a farmer's field. The barn is less than ten meters away, with the farmhouse just a bit further than that. Under different circumstances, you might have been greeted by a herd of bewildered cows. Unfortunately, it happens to be pouring rain. You can feel the first barrage of droplets invade your clothing, inundating you with heaven's rain. The two Orien heirs set about profusely apologizing for not checking the local forecast before the teleport, but if you look to the west you can see the distant spires of Brokenblade Castle, the centrepiece of Wroat even through the blue-grey pall of the storm.

You can see the minor road from the farm extend and meet a larger trade road towards the city. There are several caravans and wayward travellers making their way to the capital along the northern bank of the Howling River - likely for safe haven from the downpour.

Spoiler

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Anyone is free to roll Knowledge (Local) to learn more about Wroat.

[n0ble]

Calandras pays the Oriens no mind as he looks off at Wroat, wracking his memory to see what he can remember about the city. Remembering little, the husky figure of the squire turns to the Major and waddles over to his side. Speaking to no one in particular, he flatly states "Shall we?" .

<If only you knew. True monsters are rarely seen. And when they are you'd be better served having never seen them.> he thinks knowingly at the psicrystal, in response to what it said earlier about fighting monsters. Aborghast. Thoughts of his superior send shivers of rage through Calandras' body, to the point where he almost loses his form to the rage bubbling inside. A moment of clarity cuts through the anger: Exercise control of all things. he recalls, and master all you control in turn. The hypocrisy of using his masters teachings to calm down is not lost on the squires psyche. A wave of calm washes over him as he looks to the sky. The rain. It always did make him happy. Calandras closes his eyes, looks skyward with eyes closed and breathes deep as the rain hits his face feeling the impact of each little droplet.Peace Shimmris. Its why your here, as much for yourself as for the rest of the world. Lowering his head, the fat squire wears a serene expression on his face that is seemingly at odds with his large frame, his mouth set in a tight line, his eyes unwavering.

Spoiler: OCC

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Knowledge Local roll: (1d20+6)[9]

[Rofltrollcopter]

Joresh curses as they emerge in the rainstorm. He closes his eyes and the shimmering, translucent portal appears once again. This time a heavy bundle of some unkhown cloth emerges. Joresh fishes a cloak out of the pile. There's one for each of you. The cloaks are made out of some unknown vegetation, but most importantly they are warm and waterproof. After pulling the hood up, he glances at the Orien heirs. You couldn't have brought us into the city itself? No matter, let's be off shall we?

Spoiler

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1 power point for minor creation.

Knowledge Local: (1d20+6)[15] (untrained)

[bcool999]

Ethan

Appearing outside of Wroat wide eyed and coated in a thin sheen of sweat, Ethan pats himself down and checks that all fingers and toes are accounted for.

"Bloody Hellfire," Ethan curses after his self check up and getting a look at his surroundings. To the Orien heirs he says, "Thanks for getting us here so quickly, but I'll be Damned if I ever travel that way again. I'd sooner cross the Mournlands barefoot."

He takes the cloak offered by Joresh and dons it, he then nods to Shim as he steps to his side. To the group at large, Ethan says in a commanding tone, "All right, we're on the clock now. We have a job to do and little enough time to do it in. So let's get moving! Look alive! With that, he sets a quick pace toward the city.

[PairO'Dice Lost]

"Thank you, gentlemen," Ignatius says to the Orien heirs, "and thank you, Joresh, how very considerate," he says as he accepts and dons the overcoat created for him.

As he follows Ethan and the group moves out of the heirs' hearing range, he leans over to Joresh and says softly, "Was the critical remark about the Oriens' targeting really necessary? They had already apologized, after all, and expecting pin-point precision after traveling over seven hundred miles is hardly realistic."

[Rofltrollcopter]

Your welcome. Joresh says to Ignatius.

Joresh followed behind the Major, but he barely managed to match the other man's quick pace. He rubbed his temples as he felt the beginning of a headache coming on. Harath's influence was manifesting itself through flashes of foreign emotions in his mind. The disconnect between what he was experiencing and the emotions caused by his Quori spirit was quite agitating. He frowned a bit when Ignatius confronts him.

<No it wasn't. Look, I'll apologize when we make it to the city alright? I'm just a bit stressed out since, you know, the whole continent is at risk, and the migraine I have isn't helping... Actually, do you know about any magical headache remedies?> He says the last part with a hopeful tone.

[Mechanix]

Eyes closed, Autumn takes in the rain, smiling peacefully as the water flows down her face and hands and slides off her travelling cloak. "It's okay," she finally says to the heirs, "I don't mind walking a bit to get there. Thanks for taking us so far." She shakes her head - droplets cascading - and sets out towards the city, a spring in her step - she needs to restrain herself to not leave the group behind. "Come on! A little rain and some walking through the fields isn't going to hurt anybody. Let's make haste."

[CandyLaser]

Orlov shakes himself as water seeps under the high collar of his coat. "I knew I should have gotten something with a hood," he moans to no one in particular. Then, remembering himself, he smiles at the Orien heirs and says, "Thank you, gentlemen. Will you be staying in Wroat long? We may have need of your services in a few days." He knew that teleporting to Flamekeep would be both expensive and illegal in the current situation, but it wasn't beyond imagining that they'd turn something up here that would require a quick trip. After receiving their answer Orlov turned and trudged off toward the city with the others.

[3SecondCultist]

The Orien react as you might expect, gratefully shaking your hands when appropriate. They start scowling at Joresh, though, at his accusation of inaccuracy. They tell you this was always the target destination, as teleporting into the city itself would have been conspicuous and Kor asked them to be discreet. Regardless, they trudge behind you, keeping largely to themselves. By the look of their traveling gear, they might not be staying long in Wroat, and when asked, they say they will be leaving tomorrow to Korunda's Gate on another assignment for their house. Furthermore, they say that they were paid only for a one-way trip, and you would need to do a favor for House Orien before they felt comfortable helping you again.

As all of you get closer to the city itself, the road begins to widen. To your left, the ground falls to the bank of the great rushing river, as it flows towards the city and eventually towards the great Dagger River that leads to the sea. Eventually, you see the great walls of Wroat emerge, and you are met with more of the outbuildings that surround the perimeter of Breland's capital. Eventually, your party comes to the gate itself, and you are asked for your papers. Each of your various documents is given a visitor's stamp, proof of your right to stay in the city for at least the next 48 hours without harassment by the local authorities. You also notice an extremely heavy guard presence as you head into Wroat. A battalion of war mages flies above the parapets, patrolling the skies for oncoming threats. The soldiers standing guard wear a shielded bear emblem. Those of you familiar with Breland's security apparatus recognize both of these as branches of the King's Citadel: the Wands and the Shields, elite operatives of spell and steel that safeguard the kingdom. For all of Boranel's words of peace, this is a nation on a war footing.

Once through and into the city itself, the atmosphere is quite different. Despite the rain, there are those who walk around on the streets attending to their business, mercantile, personal or otherwise. You can see a motley of different races here: dwarves walk beside half-elves, half-orcs beside gnomes, and humans beside all. You get the impression that on any other day, the capital would have been an extremely pleasant place to visit. But here, the air is... tense. You are met with a few open stares, but you don't get the impression that it's personal. Everyone is looking at each other with at least some suspicion. The storm clouds have yet to let in a ray of sun. And on every street corner, a squad of more Shields. Or are they regular guardsmen? It's admittedly hard to tell them apart, but you suppose it doesn't really matter. The two Oriens take their leave once inside, heading towards the bridge to the southern bank. But you know where your mission lies: the Galifar Museum.