Eberron: Entrance to Adventure [IC]

[DiscipleofBob]

Noname

Noname did the warforged equivelent of raising an eyebrow. "Why would they question the loyalty of a warforged? It seems so... unnecessary." Noname was genuinely confused. A humanoid soldier sure, their minds and hearts were fickle, but a warforged was a machine, only meant to serve the purpose of those who would use it.

[Karaswanton]

Michael

Our people are known for their loyalty to their unit. My unit was from Karnath, I was...defecting to the Thrannish side. I suppose I'm one of the few Paladins guilty of treason.

Michael chuckles at the realization, a strange sound to hear from a warforged.

[DiscipleofBob]

Noname

"I see... That makes sense." Noname nodded thoughtfully. "I don't think 'treason' is an appropriate term though. A soldier who drops their sword is careless, so if the enemy picks up the sword and uses it against them, the sword is not at fault, only the soldier for incompetence." It was a direct quote from one of the martial texts Noname spent years reading. Most of those quotes were hardwired into his warforged brain at this point. Speaking of which, Noname started to casually look at their surroundings, hoping maybe to see a bookstore to visit later.

[estradling]

Cymran

The young man continues walking while listening, hearing Nonames talk about the sword he can't help but ask, "Noname, have you ever wondered why your creators made you intelligent? I mean if all they wanted was something that obeyed orders why not just make a standard construct?"

[DiscipleofBob]

Noname

Noname gives a bit of a warforged chuckle, always an uncomfortable sound for others. "Oh, silly human. A standard construct will follow orders to a 'T', to be sure, but what happens if those orders are detrimental to its cause? If someone were to create a golem and tell it to go to the enemy camp and slaughter everyone, it would do so, barring the fact that the path it takes doesn't have any obstacles in it. If it came across a ravine, it wouldn't know what to do next, and may very well just plunge itself in. Furthermore, what happens if it comes across the wrong camp, or the camp was already taken over and filled with allied soldiers or refugees? The golem would continue its master's orders and slaughter all of them despite the original purpose of the orders no longer being served. However, a flesh and blood soldier carries with it many burdens, such as needing sleep, food, and drink, as well as cure magic to heal their wounds. A fleshie will have its own consciousness and moralities to follow beyond the orders given to it by its masters. A fleshie is also tempted by material goods and pleasures and may commit treason to further its own ends.

"A warforged combines the best of both worlds. We are soulless machines who will follow orders and kill without question, yet we are just sentient enough to strategize and plan just how best to execute those orders. We can learn from experience and thus improve ourselves. If we break, we can repair each other (at least those of us who have been programmed with the proper crafting skills). We are not flesh soldiers, for we do not need sustenance or sleep, nor are we subject to committing treason or succumbing to such temptations. We are not complete constructs, for we have reasoning and learning capabilities. And best of all, the more warforged soldiers a particular army has, the less flesh soldiers who are likely to become casualties of war." Noname pointedly explains the 'way of things' in a clear lecture, as if proud of his machine status, completely unaware of how Michael or the others would react to this.

[Karaswanton]

Michael

Micheal's expression turns sour.
I happen to be of the opinion that were are not soulless. Furthermore, we are as capable as any other race of having moral virtues...or vices.

[Maurkov]

For various arcane reasons the rain storm ends as quickly as it began. The clouds disperse and the Eye of Dol Arrah blazes down, making the causeways and towers steam. Travelers, servants, and merchants stream out of the cafes and restaurants and resume their errands, while others (the locals) merely shake off their oil cloaks and continue.

[DiscipleofBob]

Noname

As the sun blazes down, Noname's shiny black adamantine plating seems to cast a glare on random parts of the walkways. "Don't get me wrong, I have nothing against those warforged who shun their nature and the purpose for which they were created and try to mimic the weaknesses of the fleshed races. It's a natural response to the end of the war for which we were created. I think it's very..." Noname scratched his "chin" in thought for the word he wanted to use. "..interesting to see warforged branch out and try different facets of life." Noname's cheerful tone in his 'apology' completely showed his naivete on the subject. As the weather cleared, Noname looked up at the skies. "Hm... I should see if there are any nearby books on meteorology. It'd be useful to be able to predict coming weather patterns..."

[Maurkov]

Limna and Jinna spend several hours with a charming group of half-elf sailors who are happy to answer any number of questions from certain even-more-charming if land-loving ladies. Their strategy in dealing with threats on the blue is first to outrun, second to negotiate, and third to fight.

They've heard of this new pirate menace. Only lone ships have been attacked, but with overwhelming force: The victim ship stops dead in the water (water elemental? tame kracken?). The pirate ship just sails up, deck loaded with hobgoblin archers, and demands goods. If anyone's given them resistance, they haven't lived to tell, and the pirates, for their part, haven't roughed up anyone who surrendered.

The Brelish Navy has tried baiting them with a Q ship (heavily armed vessel posing as a merchant ship), but the pirates didn't bite.

[estradling]

Listening to Noname answer his question, Cymran felt Naberius tug at his metal leash. The bond was good this time, Naberius couldn’t act with out Cymran’s permission, but it didn’t mean he wouldn’t try. A gravelly mental voice spoke in his head, “He answered, exactly like I expected him to. Come on let me respond.”

“Let him finish first.” Cymran responded in his mind.

“But he talks so much.” He whined almost like a puppy.

“Oh like that is going to be a good augment coming from the likes of you.” The vestige didn’t reply. “Ok now remember I have to work with him, so don’t get him mad.”

Naberius turns his one of his three heads toward him and with gives a very human-like sly grin, “Trust me... This is what I do.”

“Oh gods no.” Such a comment left Cymran with a sinking feeling in his gut. Naberius was good, much better then Cymran was himself, but he wasn’t always as good as he thought he was.

It the real world the mental discussion happened in a blinking of an eye, hearing the warforged response, Cymran’s grin widens, and a twinkle comes into his eye. When he answers to the sensitive ear it sounds like his voice when just a little bit deeper.

“So you were given intelligence, so that you could take an order and then adapt that order to new situation, or changes that the order could not take into account. Something other constructs can’t do, but us ‘soulful flesh bags’ can. Without the limits that we fleshie have of free will, and the need to maintain our form.” The Naberius/Cymran summarized Noname’s answer, before moving on.

“Now your last order was to ‘be free,’ to develop and use ‘free will.’ Now being fleshie that has always had free will, I can’t say I truly know how hard it is to make such a change. I do know that many other warforged have done so. They have followed this order and have adapted and fulfilled the order as they have been created to do. Yet you, my Nonamed friend, seem to be stuck, construct like on the minimum and most literal interpretation of that order.”

“Now I suppose you could make the case that you have obeyed your orders to ‘be free.’ And with your freedom you have chosen to be a slave to whomever you call master. However that strikes me as such a twist and dodging of the orders intent, to make it be what you really want. A twisting and dodging worthy of being on the same level as any fleshie who is gives into the temptation of their own consciousness, morality, and material goods. So with every effort you make to avoid becoming like us fleshies, you sink your self that much closer to us.”

[DiscipleofBob]

“So you were given intelligence, so that you could take an order and then adapt that order to new situation, or changes that the order could not take into account. Something other constructs can’t do, but us ‘soulful flesh bags’ can. Without the limits that we fleshie have of free will, and the need to maintain our form.” The Naberius/Cymran summarized Noname’s answer, before moving on.

Noname processed the summary before nodding in agreement. "Yes, this is correct. If the term 'fleshie' or derivations of the word are offensive to you, feel free to suggest an alternate classification for non-warforged races."

“Now your last order was to ‘be free,’ to develop and use ‘free will.’ Now being fleshie that has always had free will, I can’t say I truly know how hard it is to make such a change. I do know that many other warforged have done so. They have followed this order and have adapted and fulfilled the order as they have been created to do. Yet you, my Nonamed friend, seem to be stuck, construct like on the minimum and most literal interpretation of that order.”

"With all due respect, I am afraid you are mistaken. My last orders were only to 1) Experience more of the world, 2) Find a greater purpose, and 3) Not to desginate a new superior officer without careful deliberation. Free will is only necessary to me as far as intelligence and reasoning capablities go."

“Now I suppose you could make the case that you have obeyed your orders to ‘be free.’ And with your freedom you have chosen to be a slave to whomever you call master. However that strikes me as such a twist and dodging of the orders intent, to make it be what you really want. A twisting and dodging worthy of being on the same level as any fleshie who is gives into the temptation of their own consciousness, morality, and material goods. So with every effort you make to avoid becoming like us fleshies, you sink your self that much closer to us.”

"Strange... Do you call your weapons, tools, and soldiers 'slaves?' I was under the impression that the word 'slave' has different connotations, usually implying suppression of free will and manual labor." With any else, this would be a rhetorical question of a now heated debate, but Noname was honestly confused with Cymran's words. "Unfortunately, I do not follow your logic. I have no orders as such to practice free will nor do I have any reason to do as such, as such an element would be detrimental to my ability to receive orders. As such, I have followed my orders to the best of my ability, which fulfills my primary function. I hope that clears up the misunderstanding." With the last sentence, there was some hint of pride in Noname's voice. Noname didn't reply with hostility, discomfort, or even distaste. In his mind, he was only correcting some inconsistencies in Cymran's assumptions.

[Karaswanton]

Micheal

His devotion to duty is praiseworthy, but I have a feeling that morals would not prevent him from carrying out atrocities if ordered to do so.

Swords and tools aren't called slaves because they are inanimate objects. We can think, and act. Now, you may prefer to follow orders in lieu of making your own decisions, I won't begrudge you your lifestyle if that is how you prefer it...provided my morals don't conflict with your orders in any case.

But please, don't expect all of us to act according to our last orders. I for one, like my free will. Sure, there are some problems sometimes, but I prefer solving my own problems, my own way.

In any case, I think we should find a Capitan and a ship for our expedition.

[estradling]

Cymran


"How you chose to interrupt your orders, and live your life is up to you of course. Thats not the issue or point I was going for." Cymran with Naberius taking point wasn't upset set or getting heated. He was enjoying this.


"From what you just said I now think I can cut to the heart of this matter. It is my contention that you have an order that either you don't know about, or you are choosing to ignore. Now the nature of this order allows you to ignore it and still follow it, which sounds paradoxical, but do to the nature of the order it really isn't."

"The order in question is found in the Treaty of Thronehold. To end the last war the leaders of various side got together and worked out a new set of orders that would end the war. When they signed the treaty those orders applied to their warforged and everyone else on their side."

"Now perhaps you don't know about the treaty or what orders where given therein. If that is the case then when you aren't committed to another task I would encourage you to go research it and learn for yourself what the orders are."

[DiscipleofBob]

Noname

He took note of Michael's discomfort. Such tensions between future comrades were not healthy, and it was the sort of thing he expected from the flesh races, not something a "true warforged" would succumb to. Nontheless, it was probably best to try and make amends before things got worse. "I apologize, Michael, if you find my words uncomfortable. Making moral judgments is not a part of my function. It is not my place to form conjectures on the decisions of other warforged, and I hope our future working relationship will not be hindered by this conversation.

"Cymran, while I believe you are confusing the orders of a commanding officer for the terms of a treaty, I think it would be best to continue this conversation later. I have only heard of the Treaty of Thronehold from my previous commanding officer, and have not yet had the chance to procure a copy, but rest assured I will do so at my next possible convenience. For the time being, however, I think this discussion is making our comrades unsettled, so we should concentrate on the mission at hand. There will be time for discussion later." He talked as he walked down the streets of Sharn, following whoever seemed to be heading in the right direction, but after being lost in the conversation, he couldn't help but notice the length of the trip. Their employer should have selected an establishment closer to the docks for this type of mission. "Are we getting close to the docks?"

Spoiler

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Cymran: (1d20-2)[16](14)
Michael: (1d20-2)[20](18)

[estradling]

Cymran

"Only in that Treaty are orders that your Commanding Officer should be obeying. But you are quite right we should table this for another time. Time to find our selves a ship and a captain willing to take us where we need to go."

Once into a likely area Cymran begins talking to people trying to locate Aelowim

Spoiler

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Cymran uses Naberius's Silver Tongue ability to take 10 Diplomacy checks (for a 22) to move people to friendly. Then once friendly he asks about Aelowim

[Maurkov]

The ladies move to other establishments and eventually find themselves seated on either side of an enormous, bestial, but not-too-aromatic bugbear. He sailed as privateer out of Darguun during the war, when his ship would attack those of Zilargo and Breyland. He never ventured into the Hilt as his deep-drafted vessel would be out-maneuvered by the ships of the inland waterway. He was eventually sunk by a gnomish airship (and he's still bitter).

He is very surprised to hear about the hobgoblin crew; That's pretty distinctive and they have to make port somewhere. He orders another tea with honey and gazes at Jinna. Licking his nose he asks, "Ever been to Darguun?"

[cintain]

Limna

Trying to conceal her disgust just a bit too much, Limna shoots a furtive glance at Jinna, then at the bugbear.

She swallows hard. Where do you think that a crew of hobgoblins would be likely to make port? Might they be from Darguun, or perhaps somewhere further east?

[Maurkov]

Cymran quickly discovers that Aelowim is a captain who works for the GB Concern. Polite inquiry locates their office. More polite inquiry reveals that he is present, and if you are willing to wait, will be available shortly. Ten minutes later a murmur of raised voices can be heard through the wall. After fifteen, three stalwart dwarves depart through the waiting room. Then you are shown in.

Aelowim is a heavy, aging human with hollow eyes and ruddy features. His salt-and-pepper beard reaches his collarbone. He is seated behind a stout desk which is buried in papers. He holds a tattered quill with ink-stained fingers. He looks up from his work, and might have bolted if it weren't too much effort. Plus, you're blocking the door. He sets his chin instead. He doesn't stand, and he waits for you to speak.

[The_Snark]

Jinna

Jinna, by contrast, appears completely at ease, lounging (as much as one can lounge on a stool) next to the bugbear. "Nope, never been," she shakes her head. "What with the war, and all of that. Y'know. How long would it take to sail from here to Darguun? You must've made the trip a few times."

[Maurkov]

The bugbear is distracted by Limna's questions. "Dunno. Many coves in the Hilt. They might camp anywhere. But no R&R makes even hobs unhappy.

"I would need to see their flags to know where they're from."

Turning back to Jinna, he says, "You would like Darguun. You would be," he makes grunting sound from deep in his chest, "very popular.

"A deep water vessel could reach there in twenty days. A coastal must follow the peninsulas of Zilargo; forty five days, maybe."

[estradling]

Cymran

"Greeting Mister Aelowim." With a wave of his hand to he gestures to the others in his group. "My friends and I come to you today, because we understand that you had an unfortunate turn of events. We understand that one of your ships has been misfortunate enough to run in to pirates. We were hoping to learn more about what happened, so that we could adjust our travel plans accordingly."

Spoiler

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Cymran uses Naberius's Silver Tongue ability to take 10 Diplomacy checks (for a 22) to move Aelowin to friendly

[Maurkov]

"Take the lightning rail," he says, ruffles some papers, and looks around for the ink pot.

((Some people don't start "indifferent."))

[Karaswanton]

Micheal

Adjust our traveling plans, eh? I suppose that is true...we will need to adjust traveling plans in order to attack the pirates. And we don't have to broadcast our intentions to everyone.

I'm afraid the rail won't work for our particular venture, sir, could you perhaps give us some basic information. We could compensate somewhat you for your time, it's obvious you are rather busy.

Spoiler

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Diplomacy(1d20+2)[10]
Probably not going to do better, but it doesn't hurt, and maybe the small compensation will give us a circumstance bonus?

[Karaswanton]

Also, if it is obvious that Alewim is looking for the ink pot, Micheal looks for it and hands it to him.

[DiscipleofBob]

Noname

Spoiler

Show

Sense Motive check to realize that his teammates are purposely lying for a reason.
(1d20-2)[2]
lol, no.

He looked at Cymran, then at Michael, then at Cymran again, before directly addressing the merchant. He couldn't understand why Cymran and Michael were asking "We are interested in any information you have about the pirates' attack patterns so we can intercept them accordingly and eliminate their threat." He carried a greatsword as a weapon, but that didn't mean he was lacking in blunt instruments.

[Maurkov]

Aelowim

"Yes, yes I am rather busy," he says, gesturing from one stack of papers to another, "justifying losses to the owners that resulted when they declined to provide adequate security and doing it diplomatically enough to keep my ship and my post."

Michael steps to the desk, and Aelowim pushes his chair back, one hand going to free his rapier. Michael reaches under a paper and sets the ink in view. Aelowim stops. "Thank you."

Pulling his chair back in and retrieving his quill, he says, "the Concern gets a percentage of any deals I do here, and I don't feel like earning them any money right now." He says rather gently, "So. Get out."

"Ginny!" he shouts past you, "I'm going to lunch. No more visitors. And show these out."

[cintain]

Limna

Limna looks at Jinna, then back at the bugbear. A shift in expression passes over her face and she smirks, briefly.

So, who would you say the hobgoblins are working for? I mean, I heard that the pirates have some sort of magic that makes their victim ships stop dead in the water.

[Karaswanton]

Michael

Very well, thank you for your time.

On the way out, he talks to Ginny:
Apparently Aelowim is too busy for us, do you know of anyone else we could talk to about this matter?

[Maurkov]

The bugbear shrugs.

((The primary export of Darguun is mercenaries. Anybody can hire them. He might have more information, though, on black markets and general piracy.))

---

Ginny is apologetic, shooting a reproachful look at Aelowim when he crosses the entry room on his way out. She takes your names and says that she'll find someone else who was there and have them contact you.

Back on the street, Aelowim is still in sight, strolling.

[cintain]

Limna

Limna shoots a glance at Jinna, wondering why she is keeping quiet in the middle of all this and feeling a bit weak asking her questions. Still, she presses on, trying to look confident.

So, where would those pirates go to sell the goods they have stolen?