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 The morning finds the four of you in the Shattered Crown, the inn that like it or not, has become your home in High Walls. With the various favors and errands the lot of you have done around the ward, Flint, the inn's owner, has declared that the four of you are always welcome to stay under his roof, rent free. Flint himself is a retired magewright who clearly isn’t as retired as he probably should be. He has significant burns across his body, and the fire in the fireplace, candles and lanterns flare up slightly every time he passes by. On top of that, you often spot the dishes washing themselves back in the kitchen. This morning, however, he grunts as passes on a note requesting your presence at Cyre's embassy and that a skycoach will be waiting for the four of you. After he passes the note, Flint gives a low grunt and offers his thoughts on the matter, "Still don't know why everyone wants to pay to keep that place open when got starvin' people down here. It's a bloody waste, I say." As you walk the sky bridges of the ward, you see how the years haven't been kind to High Walls, and the familiar wear on the buildings is clearer than ever. Normally suspicious of outsiders, the residents of High Walls are much cheerier with the four of you, though. Not only do they know you, but they've seen the good you've done around the ward. After all, you're in the same boat as them, right? A few particularly familiar faces stick out. Birch, a female shifter, is rushing off to catch the elevator so she won't be late for her classes. She managed to get a merit scholarship to Morgrave University, and she's one of the ward's darlings. They all love seeing one of their own go on to make good. Cala Narain, a female human, has her bow slung across her back as she tries to whip a few ward residents into something that could be confused with a respectable guardsmen. After all, the normal Watch doesn't come here very often. She seems to knows what she's talking about, as she was a captain in the Cyran army before the Day of Mourning, but her lessons don't seem to be sinking into the residents that she's got lined up for drills... Wright looks up from his work, wordlessly acknowledging your group. In addition to working as one of the district's few smiths, the warforged has found a calling in creating a kind of sculptural armorsmithing and forged dozens of suits of platemail "self-portraits." Behind him, you see his latest work hanging from a stand. It's a bit rusted, but the helm does resemble Wright. A little, at least. Thankfully, the skycoach is waiting for you where the note said. It'd be a pain to have to take the elevators and stairs alllllll the way up to Ambassador towers. Whisking you away to the Ambassador Towers, you soon find that Lord Jairan ir'Dain and Tyrala (Just Tyrala. When asked about it, she says that abandoned her family name a long time ago.) are waiting for you in one of the embassy's meeting rooms. This one is much cleaner than the other, empty rooms you passed on your way in. Lord Jairan was Cyre's Ambassador to Breland. Now, he acts as the official representative of the refugees in Sharn. He's a man with average height and dark hair, wearing a slick smile that doesn't quite match his warm, brown eyes. His almost foppish wardrobe does look to have seen better days, with wear and tear barely kept at bay through constant maintenance. Tyrala makes no secret of her past as a deputy intelligence officer. She was collecting a report to deliver to Cyre's Spymaster when the Day of Mourning occurred. For her part, Tyrala is in a much more conservative outfit than Lord Jairan. With her simple green vest and long sleeved white shirt, she could have just come in from off the street, and given her previous intelligence work, she very well might have. Outside of the Prince Oargev, these two make up the highest ranking survivors of Cyre's government. Lord Jairan starts, saying, "I appreciate you're promptness this morning. There's a bit of a problem that I feel would suit your skills perfectly. There's been a string of disappearances in New Cyre. It's already hard enough to make the new city stand on its own when people are thinking that they might disappear if they stay out too late. The last person to disappear, a young woman named Sarafina, was one of the city's most gifted architects. She's done so much with the little she was given. It's fair to say that the city wouldn't be half as developed as it is now if it wasn't for-" Tyrala interrupts, saying, "Of course, if you don't want to do the Watch's job for them, I've been getting reports that the goblinoids of Dargunn have been venturing into Lyrenton and looting whatever they can find. Which, considering how long they've left it alone, makes me think they've found that something was there that they It's technically on this side of the Mists, but the monstrosities that poured out of the mists rampaged through the city. As such, it's long been abandoned, but I think we can all agree that pillaging the remnants of one of our cities is beyond the pale. Also, if you were to find what the were looking for in the first place, I'm sure we could arrange for some kind of reward for you." Jairan glares at her, but simply adds, "I'm sure the Prince would consider it a favor if you would find out what is happening in our city." He stresses the last word, trying to make it clear that he means that the city belongs to all Cyrens. Both having made their resepctive cases, the two of them look at you four for your response. Capfalcon fucked around with this message at 21:58 on Dec 21, 2015 |
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Dec 21, 2015 05:59
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Tyrala eyes narrow in annoyance, but she remains silent as Lord Jarian's smile widens. He says, "I'm glad to hear all of you say that. After all, what is Cyre if not its people?" After digging through a stack of papers, Lord Jarian produces four faded letters of passage, adding, "Just give these to the Terminus Station attendant, and tell them you're headed to New Cyre. They'll sort you out. I'd tell you what I know, but the guard in New Cyre is sure to be better informed than I am. " Once Lord Jarian finishes, Tyrala expression has returned to the slightly bored neutrality she had when she was waiting for your arrival as she speaks, "I'll set out in a few days to keep an eye on what the goblins find, but if there's anything you'd like looked into while you're gone, I'll see what I can do. After all, you're on official business, so it's the least we can do." Lord Jarian looks a little surprised that she's talking it so well, to be honest. After this conversation, feel free to narrate yourself making the preparations and onboard the train.
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Jan 2, 2016 07:49
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As you settle into your cabin for the two day trip to Starilaskur, which will be followed by another day of (hopefully) hitching a ride with a trade caravan to New Cyre, one of the very nervous female human peeks into your room. The woman is wearing a conductor's uniform and starts talking to Birchwen, "Um... I think there must have been some sort of misunderstanding. I... I beleive that any mounts like yours are to be lodged in the cargo car, not in one of the passenger cars." She's currently unfriendly, and will need to be friendly before she allows Casool to stay in the room, normally a DC 25 check Later, In the large lounge car, a few of your fellow travelers are passing the afternoon in pursuit of their own interests. And, well, one of them is Ahega. Or at least she is, until she shifts into one of the nearby hobgoblin mercenaries, who then shifts into one of the train's servers, and so on. Apparently some bored changeling is practicing duplicating the faces of the other passengers. The hobgoblins ignore it and return to pouring over some roughly sketched map of Darguun. And there is one woman whose unusual clothing makes her stand out even in this colorful crowd while also marking her as a Rideran. In fact, the Rideran throws a few nasty glares at Nethatari and Yevetari as soon as she sees them in the reflection of the window she's looking out. Once she's made her displeasure with the two of them known, she goes back to writing in a journal she holds close to her chest.
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Jan 14, 2016 04:39
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The girl looks much less nervous as Yeve assures her that the raptor is trained and quite friendly. She reaches out and pats him on the head before saying, "Well... I suppose we can keep this between us." Smiling, she punches your tickets and moves on. In the cabin, the Rideran returns Birchwen's glare without missing a beat. However, she pleasantly responds to Ahega's inquiry, saying, "Oh, yes, I've never even been to your countries." She starts to sigh, but catches herself and adds, "Still, I've been tasked to deliver a message to New Cyre, so I imagine I'll be back in one of these cities soon enough. What about you? Where are you and..." her voice pauses as she thinks how to address the others in your company, before deciding on, "Your companions headed?"
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Jan 24, 2016 07:47
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