You have all been on the retainer pay of the Adventurer's Guild for a few weeks now, given fair coin for inactive service and lodging within the local guild hall in the city of Wroat. The current head of the guild within the city is Guild Master Renfold, a middling age human who wears noble's clothing, but does not care to be in the current style. His hair is cut short, in sharp contrast to the local style, his hair an indeterminate shade between blonde going grey, and has steely grey eyes.

You have each received a missive to meet up for an assignment in his business office, a room you have been in only once before. It is here that his character shows. The room is full of bookshelves from a variety of topics, his personal desk sits with the back to the fire. There are a few chairs spread out before it, as well as a reading couch. Maps, ledgers, and a variety of paperwork marked his desk the last time you were within the room, and little has changed. The man keeps a strange bird rumor holds that he found while exploring Xen'drik, a bird that apparently can speak and has human-like intelligence. Its plumage is a bright green, with a collar of deep blue, followed by a crown of crimson red feathers. Its' curved beak seems ill equipped to be a bird of prey, as you enter, it watches each of you, its' beady black eyes taking in everything about you. Guild Master Renfold is not waiting for you, even though he is known for his punctuality.

Jack arrives as soon as he was able to get away, and finding the door ajar and the room empty, he sets to perusing the books within the bookcase, he has no intent to read any of them, and it is a reminder to himself that he should start his own collection of facts and information, perhaps a proper spellbook would be a good start, what he understood of magic was like the wizard in the sense of a few minor magics that he just knew the others were arcane, but  not the same at all...

He was taking in the titles on the spines, and the books that lacked one, he would look at the title page.....if very interesting he would glance at the table of contents....

He whistled softly as he did so....waiting for the guildmaster to arrive and give him an assignment.


He also touches his good luck charms that he keeps around his neck, an assortment of many things.....

As he spends more time, he eventually looks at the bird, guessing from its beak what it may like to eat or consume from it's native lands....
Knowledge nature....09:52, Today: Jack Springhill rolled 18 using 1d20+6 ((12))
This message was last edited by the player at 13:53, Wed 10 Aug 2022.

Quietly Radira entered the room. Her movement was graceful like a feline and every step measured. She watched Jack's back, like the huntress approaching unwary prey. Her surroundings were unfamiliar. Her life among her people had been simple, some might say primitive. But the Shifters of the Eldeen Reaches had found their home in those lands. It still pained her she felt the need to leave her home. But the hunt continued, and took her to this room. She felt no need to speak to Jack, so she quietly padded to the corner to crouch.

A moment later the tapping of claws on the floorboards announced the arrival of her companion. It was a great black dog, its nose scarred and its eyes wary and distrustful. Anyone could see at a glance this beast was a mean piece of work. Radira had named it for its purpose; Fang. The Eldeen Reaches were a hard land leaving little room for kindness, certainly not for luxury pets. But those with the skill could bend nature to their will and prosper. Radira had tamed and trained Fang, but she was his alpha and he had a purpose in the pack. A pack of two, Radira noted grimly. But perhaps that was about to change, as the taskmaster might give her a hunt..

Jack knew that the newcomer was certain she  had come unnoticed into the room, but the truth was exactly that, Jack had neither heard nor seen her, but the bird he was studying had reacted to her presence and he knew that someone had entered the room.

Although his polearm was not in the room with him, one hand was still the spiked gauntlet and his hand axe was tucked into his belt...within easy reach of the other hand.

He kept himself in profile, showing neither the handaxe nor the gauntlet to the woman..

The dog was an impressive brute, he had no disdain for animals, in fact he appreciated them very much, but he had dealt with them before, dogs would take the spiked gauntlet bait to bite and he would shock the creatures to death easily enough..though he preferred not to..

He nodded to the girl, a single time, but since she liked silence he did not say anything.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:41, Wed 10 Aug 2022.

The next through the door was the familiar sight of one of Cannith's battle constructs. Three years ago the production of these created soldiers was banned, and the self aware creations controversially made citizens.

This construct was late model, incorporating mithral in the composite plating, this explained the relative lack of noise produced. The warforged stepped far enough to the side to allow someone coming in behind space to pass. The warforged scanned the room just once before settling into a standing at ease stance without comment. The construct was still as a statue a habit among warforged that unnerved some, subtly though the eyes stayed somewhat mobile; flat crystals seemingly focused on trying to discern book titles.

Shortly after the hulking Warforged, a dwarf walked in, almost seeming out of place.  He held himself in a different light, proud and confident.  His clothes shimmered as he walked, and fabric was of the finest quality.  He wore an impressive Gemmed ring on his finger, a Mithril band with an assortment of stones along its edges, and a large center cut ruby in the middle that seemed to glow.  He carried what appeared to be a small satchel at his side, the strap coming over his shoulder.   As he stepped in, he took a quick look around.  After, he smiled brightly, his well-groomed beard shifting slightly as he spoke.

"Well, pleasure it is to meet yah.  I suspect you were all summoned here by the headman, same as I?"  He moved further in and looked at each of them before continuing.  "Names Magnus.  Member of the Warding guild." He took a look at the Warforged first.

"So amazing.  Still gives me chills thinking about the sheer skill it took to craft one of you, much less make you independent and sentient.  Ah, I see your composite plating is Mithril.  Beautiful.  Simply exquisite." He said, his eyes almost looking over the Warforged like he was still on an auction block, before he then moved towards the one hiding in a corner.  He didn't step to close, and gave the wolf a wave.

"Why are you sitting way over there lass?  I suspect the boss is goanna want us to be sittin in the chairs he set out for us.  No need to be nervous or shy."  He said, offering out his hand for her to take.  AFter all, it would be ungentlemanly to leave a women crouched on the floor like an animal, even if she sort of was one.

Jack smiled at the newcomer.....
"Well met, Magnus, I am Jack Springhill.  No one else has said anything, they seem to be very conscientious in  the seriousness of their tasks. "

Jack glances back at the bird....
"A most interesting species......"


"I hail from a small farming town, but near enough the mountains to be dangerous.  Pressed into a local lords militia, and was placed with the scouts, I was already good with a bow, polearm and spotting traps in the woods...part due to kobolds from the foothills and part from irresponsible trappers....since then I have been seeking more knowledge and adventure."


He glances across the room....
"Seems likely we will be spending some time together......"
This message was last edited by the player at 13:55, Thu 11 Aug 2022.

Not entirely sure Magnus had asked the group a question, Sparky was slow to speak up. The compliment about being well constructed elicited very little response but not none. Warforged might not be the most expressive race, but they certainly had emotions. Sparky's lower hinged jaw and head raised slightly, barely noticeably. Obviously pride if you weren't inclined to dismiss the idea something built having feelings. In Cannith training camps Warforged who won training combats were praised, most Warforged took pride in things that would help them win fights, because this is the training Cannith imprinted into them in the first formative months of their existence. Being well constructed wasn't something a Warforged could control, but there was no denying it's importance in a fight.

Jack's introduction made less sense to Sparky. Definitely not Brelish, we embrace Democracy. Not a Mourner either. Doesn't seem Aundairi, or Thranish. Lightning rails go most everywhere these days. Could be Karnathi, but hard to imagine him among the zombie hoards. Could be a Reacher, but a Reacher would probably take more interest in the druid. I bet he's a Marcher. She's most likely a Reacher, and House Kundarak I believe is Karnathi in origin though their bankers end up everywhere.

"Orders to report here for a mission, did not mention Master Renfold himself." The construct spoke plainly in a strangely flat voice as most Warforged did. The pacing was slow enough to suggest, this was an observation based on Master Renfold's absence not special knowledge about what was going on. Otherwise the warforged hadn't moved since assuming this at ease stance.

Radira had rarely seen warforged. The Last War had spread across the continent but the deep forests of the Eldeen Reaches held little of value to the Five Nations for them to see the need to send the false men to wage battle there. This specimen concerned her. At first she believed him to have been made of silver, the moon metal, but as he passed she could smell it was not so. Still, the false man was clearly dangerous. A weapon made to kill. She found it odd to let such things wander free. But the so-called civilized folk were full of such folly.

Her study of the warforged was interrupted by the arrival of the dwarf of the shifting colors. Such garb went against Radira's like night and day. Clearly the dwarf felt no need for stealth. Indeed, such riotous colors were like a warning of poison she knew from many bugs. She did not know what to make of him. His assumption she was nervous or shy was off the mark however. She was wary. Wary of strangers, her surroundings. And like a cat she would rather watch and observe, and move only when it was in her interest, not when he wanted..
This message was last edited by the player at 16:00, Thu 11 Aug 2022.

As the man he had yet to address was the first to speak, and gave a slight bow to the women, before withdrawing his hand and moving on towards the fellow against the books.  He spoke about being in a militia, and how he was a scout and such.  And how they might be spending time together.

"Well met, Jack.  Which Milita did you fight with?  And perhaps we might be able to aid one another in knowledge seeking.  I tend to make traps, and the like.  All part of my services. Some of the best protection in Khorvaire."

He went to sit down in a chair, as he moved it in a way to see the other three still, the Warforged speaking.  "Well, it was an assumption on my part.  After all, this is his office.  But I had recieved such an offer as well.  Quite the group, if we have a scout, a.."  He paused as he stared at the wolf girl.  "Attire and the pet remind me of Druids.  So I am guessing that is what she is.  And then, of course, one of the best units of protection from the Last War."

Jack watches as he knows that pretty much everyone is listening to his answers....

"I served with House Vadalis, I am from a very small place indeed, known as greenblade village, my family has a small farm near to the village proper, if that helps.  Always travelers coming through so meeting people was easy, because news spread everytime anyone came through and especially if they stay the night."

Jack is pretty excited about the whole thing

“Locally since 959  Sylbaran, Greenblade, and Erlaskar, have had a treaty and militia; as we expect no help to prevent a future occupation, so that was my initial training.”


"I have also spent a bit of time in both the Byeshk mountains and the towering wood...Not places to roam without proper care."
This message was last edited by the player at 00:59, Sun 14 Aug 2022.

He had not intended to be unobtrusive.  He had not intended to to be hidden and silent.  He had merely sat down in a corner opposite the desk near a softly glowing lantern set upon a table next to a very comfortable looking chair, after quietly selecting a book from the shelves, on the pre-Galifar history of Khorvaire, seemed to be missing, a book the young man has opened across his lap, and is currently reading.  It is the quiet scrape of parchment against parchment, heard only during a lull in the conversation, as he turns the page, that attracts attention towards his presence.  He continues to read until he can feel the gaze of everyone else in the room upon him.  Then he looks up with a friendly smile.
Well, hello there, he says simply in Thranish accented Common.
This message was last edited by the player at 15:23, Tue 16 Aug 2022.

The Warforged having no need to blink, watching the office door was a bit confused by the man awkwardly failing to sneak through the only obvious entrance with no means of cover, and more than enough light for the construct to see perfectly clearly, but as he seemed only interested in grabbing a book and rather than try to steal it, sitting in a chair the reaction wasn't immediately hostile. The construct stepping out of the way of the entrance had been in anticipation of Master Renfold entering through the only obvious door so keeping that in peripheral vision was the most natural thing to do.
The initial thought was that this new man was embarrassed to be arriving late, but Master Renfold wasn't there yet so it was all for naught. The Warforged a veteran, wasn't going to snitch on someone over sneaking into a briefing late. Grabbing the book might have seemed thief like but then no sane thief would attempt to sneak into a crowded business office full of armed mercenaries and a rather large dog waiting to begin a meeting. Taking the book seemed more a cheeky rascal sort of decision sitting down in a reading chair seemed to suggest waiting for the meeting as well. The dress suggested this man was a friar of the Silver Flame, and the behavior was a far cry from the exhausted war hardened Crusaders the construct had fought beside in Cyre.
The Warforged twitched, it wasn't much but it was a rather un-Warforged-like behavior as the comparison triggered the vivid memory of that menacing grey mist that killed everything that it touched. The instinct to run was strong but there was not mist here, these allies weren't dying in the impossibly large spell that had seemed like it would consume all of Khorvaire, the crushing weight of the guilt of survival pressed down, but no word of it was volunteered.

"Hello."

Jack turns finally revealing beyond the bow and arrows, what he has on his person a hand axe in his belt and a spiked gauntlet on his hand....

So here we are....I am glad I left my polearm in my room, this office is getting a bit crowded."

Updated my ooc post....FYI
This message was last edited by the player at 13:15, Tue 16 Aug 2022.

Radira had noticed Jusepus as he entered, but had simply watched. But it was when he spoke up she noticed the pendant he wore. The Silver Flame. The Purge. She snarled at the monk, her body tensing to pounce. Fang picked up at his master's fury and similarly tensed.

"Curse you and your kin murderer! Why are you here?"

This got the Warforged to shift out of standing at ease, into a resting boxer's stance. The constructs eyes moved between the two members of clergy.

"I have a duty to preserve the peace. Keeper Jolan Sol, spoke against attacking natural born shifters 179 years ago. Illness is not kinship. The Puritan heresy is in opposition to accepted canon. His vestments do not indicate he is a Puritan. He does not appear old enough to have taken part in the Silver Crusade. Religions are an academically interest."

The construct seemed inclined only to try to talk the two of them down.

OOC:
Taking mild liberties with the knowledge check they have a +14 to the relevant check (other worldly whispers invocation) it's only mildly uncommon knowledge and that's mostly because they have the names and dates
This message was last edited by the player at 14:30, Tue 16 Aug 2022.

He cocks his head at the shifter's outburst.  Actually, I was invited.  I'm truly sorry about what happened to your kin, but I was not even born when that happened, nor have I murdered anyone.  He shrugs.  As a priest, I am primarily a healer and a sermonizer.  Though, I do not really like giving sermons.  Most people do not seem to want to hear them.

Magnus listened to the man speak about his time with House Vadalis.  And then about some of his travels.  Animal Handler but said he was a scout..  possibly indicating ranger of some sort.

He was going to reply when he noticed another walk in.  He took a book then took a seat, Magnus watching him a minute with bemused interest as he suddenly spoke.  Again he was about to set a greeting when the druid sparked off at the newcomer.

Sparky was trying to defuse the situation and he got up between the two. "As our metal friend says.  I doubt this fine gent was part of those crusades.  But if just seeing the symbol males yah that irate, I would steer clear of Sharn near the 25 of Barrakas.  Its a day dedicated to one of the Fathers torn to pieces during the crusades."  He stated more to just give friendly advice then anything before turning to the newcomer.

"Well, a flamer as well?  We got quite the assortment growing.  If our employer ever gets here it will be an interesting job to say the least."
This message was lightly edited by the GM at 05:38, Thu 18 Aug 2022.

Jack for his own idea starts to leave the office....even the hallway would be a better place to be..

"I for one will be somewhere other than guildmaster Renfold's office when people make bad choices for themselves...this business should be held until we are no longer in sanctuary.."

Having John Wick flashbacks.....

"He joined them." Radira replied to those who made the case for Jusepus' supposed innocence, slowly getting up from her crouch, the fury clear in her eyes. She she spoke her lips peeled back showing elongated canines.
"The Silver Flame hunted my people. Burned children on the stake by the hundreds. Tried to eradicate us like we were a plague and nearly succeeded. They are the greatest evil on this continent. And he JOINED them!"

I did not join The Church.  I was an orphan of the war who they took in.  For that, I am thankful, Jusepus informs.  Otherwise I would have had to fight for survival in some war-ravaged town or in a refugee camp.
He gives a sigh.  The Purge happened a long, long time before either of us was born.  You were not one of the victims, I was not one of the perpetrators.  Are you going to spend your life feeling an anger and a hate that are not your own?  I, for one, have no hatred within me.  You are the first shifter I have met, and I find you absolutely fascinating.  You can do something I can scarcely conceive of, and I want to ask you all kinds of questions.

The Construct nodded stiffly. "Many shifters joined them, Fathen the Martyr, the priest of the Silver Flame, Magnus mentioned, famously a shifter. You seem to have been given only one view of the event. The Silver Crusade took place in a time of Pandemic. The werewolf and rat infection had spread to all cities of Galifar. A man infected with the curse would unthinkingly murder his own family in his fevered transformation. People were more ignorant back then. You know they thought Shifters and Lycanthropy were connected to Rakshasa. Ha." The warforged seemed to awkwardly attempt a joke with this last factoid as evidenced by the flat unvaried tone was punctuated with a laugh. They looked to see if the others appreciated how absurd and backwards people were two hundred years ago. Whether they'd calmed the Shifter any.

"I remember studying this, I thought that surely everyone blamed the entire unfolding events upon the deviant mechaniations of the rakshasa's.  Now that I think about it I never read the histories from either side, I read the works of events based on my local region, second hand reports at best, certainly not the generational trauma that has followed....The animosity remains strong..."

The bird shuffled slightly at the argument between shifter and priest, clicking its beak in agitation. The beady black eyes watched with interest, before it opened its beak. "Master Renfold will arrive shortly, shortly. He says no blood to be shed, no blood to be shed. CAW!" The bird spoke, ruffling its exotic feathers and flapping its wings as it adjusted its grip on the perch.

Raining calm and serene, Jusepus does not feel he is being argumentative with the shifter woman.  He is merely explaining why she should not be angry with him.  Meanwhile, she seems to be the one spoiling for a fight.
I do not want to shed blood even when it is necessary.  Bloodshed here is far from necessary.  So very far from mecessary, he says politely.

Jack only gets a step or two away from the bird when it speaks, he stops and returns to examining the bird now that it has spoken, he had suspected the bird was more than meets the eye.....perhaps a magical bond of some sort...

Falling into his arcane training he goes ahead and examines the bird with detect magic, perhaps he too would one day bond a familiar to his service, it is something he had yet to understand... Casts detect magic...

"A long long time ago, in a place far far away....."
This message was last edited by the player at 15:29, Thu 18 Aug 2022.

The shifter snorted at how the others in the room weakly attempted to explain away the Purge.
"The greater part of my people was hunted to extinction. But if this was such a terrible mistake, where are the apologies, the reparations? What has the Silver Flame done since to make right the genocide? Nothing! They regret nothing! And they will happily do it again one day. Murderers and hypocrites all! And fools are any who flock to their blood-drenched banner. All happy to slay innocents, women and children, in the name of their faith."

PM

As Radira rails against the follies of prior generations, a small doorway of energy opens behind the desk, stepping through is the vaguely familiar Guild Master Renfold. He wears robes of deep blue and muted brown fringe, with a high white collar around his neck. He looks around the room, snorting slightly, before taking his seat.

"Be that as it may, Radira, not all shifters were innocent during that time, and while I do not condone the actions in which I do not agree with, the past is the past, and it is better to learn from the mistakes of it so that history does not repeat it. Perhaps Jusepus can change your mind about the modern followers of his faith.

Now, you have all been summoned here as part of your contract with the Adventurer's Guild, and to fulfill a work order we have received from a Lord Braun ir'Vachlan. He is requesting the services of dedicated guild members to aid in the transport of the bodies of fallen knights from the Last War to return them to their families in Karrnath. He himself has been here for a few days, waiting for the Guild to agree to the terms of the contract, and will accompany you on the lightning rail with the cargo. Part of the reason I was delayed was the...delicacy of dealing with nobility, and Karrnathi nobility at that.

Although you have not worked as a group before, the Guild believes that as solo agents, you will never have the opportunities to advance quite like you would as a group. Perform well, and you might earn the favor of Lord ir'Vachlan, but you will prove that you are capable agents to be sent on more interesting and far-reaching missions to the Guild itself.

You were selected not just because you have been solo agents for the Guild, but also because your skills would potentially mesh well.

Magnus for his knowledge of traps and artifice, Radira for her wilderness skills, Sparky for their unique eldritch talents, Jesepus for his healing magic and martial skill, and Jack for being able to fill in any gaps the group might hold." He spoke, indicating to each of you in kind. The bird remains at its perch, having been preening itself while the Guild Master spoke.

As the guild master enters Jack snaps to attention his instincts from the militia still sharp and crisp, once the guild master is seated, jack stands at ease.  He listens as the guild master outlines the assignment.


Jack smiles as the word capable rolls around in his mind, it is the thing he wants more than anything else the world of knowledge and secrets were still waiting for him and who knows what he might discover if sent into places he has never been before....

Jack waits to see what maps or other information is forthcoming, before he adds anything....

Jusepes is about to say something when the guildmaster makes his rather dramatic entrance.  He stands silent as the man speaks his peace, first about Radira's tirade, then about the job at hand.
Thank you, sir, for inviting us to this mission.  I am sure we will make you proud, he offers when the GM has finished
This message was last edited by the player at 08:25, Fri 19 Aug 2022.

Radira held no belief in Renfold's words on the Silver Flame's changed nature. But as the taskmaster continued on explaining the job at hand her thoughts hurried to keep up with the nature of the mission. She had never met any nobility, nor recognized their authority. She would make her own judgement of the worth of Lord ir'Vachlan. The task to transport bodies seemed a wasteful one of effort and time. A small distance to a nice burial spot she could understand, but to go through all this effort seemed excessive. But if this is what the lordling desired, then she did not mind taking his coin. It seemed like a straightforward task and the cargo being largely worthless meant it likely would not be the target of raiders.

But what piqued her interest most was something that Renfold had passed over as something plain and commonplace; the Lightning Rail. Radira had heard tales of the marvel of House Orien. She had never expected to set foot on it herself, nor to see one of the distant great cities rumored to house a thousand thousand people. Such a journey was a rare opportunity. It would allow her to see a corner of the world she had never considered.

She nodded acceptance at Guild Master Renfold.

"Sparky" had move to standing at attention as Renfold entered and offered a quick salute. After listening attentively and waiting for the more eager responses the construct asked, "what state are the bodies in, what state are they expected delivered in? Cargo, or passengers, sir?"
This message was last edited by the player at 19:18, Fri 19 Aug 2022.

Jack nods at Sparky
"Yes what are our assets, liabilities, and what is the threat assessment of this cargo and other cargos, passengers that will also be on the conveyance, and expected hostilities?"

Guild Master Renfold shrugs at the questions. He seems little interested in the details, but this could be feigned disinterest. "From what has been explained to me, the bodies are in coffins and marked by their family crests. By preference, the cargo should arrive as it was sent off, though I am sure if the Karnnathi should object, accidents do happen and all we promise as part of the contract is to protect the cargo to the best of our ability. As for passengers, there will be Lord ir'Vachlan and his retinue, whoever else has booked a ride on the rail, the crew of the rail, and that is about it. The bodies should not be...currently mobile, if that is a worry. For information about other passengers, you may have to ask House Orien. Expected hostilities are anyone who may have a grudge against the Karnathi, so your list is quite long. Who has the money and time and access to knowledge about this trip, that is harder to pin down, but I would expect a strong force if they were to try." He spoke, resting his fingers together thoughtfully.

Jack listens and steeples his fingers as he appears deep in thought....

"So it seems we should  gather ourselves and be set to go as soon as possible, since the longer we delay the more who might catch wind of rumors and formulate contrary action..against us."

"Are we attempting the Mournland Line or taking some other means of conveyance? I thought  House Orien vehicle now refused to travel along the Mournland lines." Straight to the point "Sparky" asked about the plan. The non-stop theoretical time would be about three days from Wroat station to Fort Zombie the first Karrnathi station but this would take you through the abandoned Merrol Station in the Mournlands. Normal people couldn't simply book passage House Orien refused, though it seemed entirely plausible House Vachlan had gotten special dispensation and a House Orien train would make the dangerous trip. The alternatives were either they'd transfer to a private train willing to make the dangerous leg of their journey, which would mean transferring the coffins from one train to another probably twice or transfering to boat or airship to cross the Mournlands. While it was a useful question the Construct didn't give any indication this was unexpected or frightening, just details that would aid in planning their escort behaviors.

Guild Master Renfold pulled out a map of Khorvaire, one which highlighted the various road and rails across the continent. "As you can see, there is an alternative rail that bypasses the Mournland, which runs through Hatheril, Sword Keep, Passage, Fairhaven, Thaliost, and the last stop for your group Rekkenmark in Karrnath." He spoke, pointing out the route.

Jusepus positions himself so he can inspect the map.  He cocks his head as he muses over the cartography, admiring the details and artistry of the map.
It seems the obvious route to take.

Guild Master Renfold actually smiles at Jusepus's comment. "And who really wants to experience the Mournland? At least, not without an army and a prayer to the gods?" He spoke, settling back into his seat.

Radira had heard the stories of the Mourning and the deadly wasteland that was left behind. Of the things she wanted to see of the world, that place was not one.

"I believe that clears everything up, at least for me....."

Jack reaches behind the door and pulls his polearm out from behind it....

At the words "...experience the Mournland...", Jusepus seems to shiver, as if experiencing a sudden draft.  I think not even with the backing of an army.

"I assume this is a standard contract, with no special riders?"

Jack having retrieved his weapon moves toward the door

Magnus looked over at the two battlers before the bird talked.  He had himself a seat amd as the man himself started to go over the details.  He watched in silence as he absorbed the information.

Few questions were asked, and the leader said they were going by lightning rail.  He looked at the route and frowned a bit.  The path was... Tricky.  He looked over at the monk a moment before back at the map.  Going over the new bridge.

"Master Renfold.  While I agree this path is safer then taking the possibly destroyed tracks of the mournlands. But, Thrane and Karrnath are far from friends.  If undead are detected can House Orion help us should the need araise?

Radira tired of the questions. They spoke of weakness and doubt.
"You all worry too much about that which you and the taskmaster cannot change. If there are enemies, we will face them. The noble set the route. He is coming with us and such a man likely values his own hide. He will have thought of these things. If you want to mewl like cubs, bring your fears to him."
This message was last edited by the player at 16:04, Mon 29 Aug 2022.

Sparky's eyes blazed like lightning at the question of who wants to visit the Mournland, but despite the tell-tale sign of powerful emotion the construct replied neutrally. "Wasn't aware they had managed that. I had expected House Lysander to tie up the process endlessly in committees and court intrigue.

"We are traveling to Karrnath. Necromancy is legal there. Undead are ubiquitous, most are used for farm labor to bolster food production as they recover from the famine. Zombies being mindless made them inferior on the battlefield but easy to mass produce and easier to justify keeping as property. Karnathi Knights could be more extraordinary sorts. They have mundane knights but I've seen Bone Knights pale grim figures dressed in skeletal armor, and have little reason to doubt the stories of vampires and spectral Knights, too many first hand accounts. That's why the question of burial, passenger, or spell component arises. Is Karrnath still under martial law?"

OOC: Source books say they're under martial law and still suffering an extended famine, but I didn't want to assume. Zombies are used to fight crop failure.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:12, Tue 30 Aug 2022.

Guild Master Renfold shrugged. "The task is to protect the cargo, protect the enterourage, and ensure the arrival of both. House Orien agreed to the details of Lord ir'Vachlan plan. He has shown me his orders come from the King himself calling for the return of fallen soldiers. If there are undead, the lightning rails are considered neutral ground, so attacking the rails is a bad idea, even during the war. House neutrality is useful Martial law is still enforce in Karrnath." He spoke gesturing to the route that the train would take as he spoke.

OOC: There are inroads being made into the famine, mostly by importing food via rail.

"Sounds as if everything is in order."

Whatever happens, says the Thranish clergyman, it sounds like this should be an interesting job.  He gives a small smile and moves to return the book he had been reading to its place on the shelf.

Provided there are no further objections or questions, Guild Master Renfold hands the closest individual a writ and summary of the contract. "Lord ir'Vachlan will be waiting for you tomorrow morning at the Lightning Rail station. It is there that all of you will sign the contract and finalize the Guilds involvement. Until then, you have free usage of the fascilities here. I wish you luck, but given your talents, I doubt you will need it. May your journey be uneventful and swift." He spoke, dismissing you group from his study.

Jack surveys the facilities and decides that a recon to the rail station might be a useful bit of mischief

But whom to invite?

“Say Sparky have you been to the station yet, I thought it would be fun to check out before morning.”

"Back in '94 we were shipped by lightning rail to Vathirond then marched into Cyre to protect the supply lines for the joint Brelish-Thrane operations." The delivery of this statement may have been flat but the recent history wasn't hard to work out. The the joint Brelish-Thrane operations began in the early winter of '93-'94, the day of mourning which wiped Cyre off the map a day that would live on in infamy was Olarune 20th, 994 YK the last month of that winter. Sparky would have been some of the last troops to arrive, unwittingly marching into what would become an arcane holocaust the likes of which had never before been seen and had never been seen since. But the description didn't sound much like a fun lightning rail ride in luxury cabin. "Stations are patrolled for import control and taxes, it's like a port. Trains seldom spend more than a few minutes at stations. The trains make money by running quickly and efficiently." The constructs head tilted slightly, The statements about trains almost sounded like a question.

"I will take that as a no then, perhaps a bit of sleep prior to the morning is something I should do instead.  I wonder who all will be there..."

Jack leans on his polearm as if he is suddenly tired...

The wild woman in the back watched the exchange. The false man intrigued her. It spoke so neutral, its face unmoving. Such a strange and unnatural creature that was uncannily calm and yet clearly capable of great violence. Warforged. Living weapons. They were perhaps the second largest crime of the Last War, after the Mourning.

Her mind went back to the mission. The Taskmaster had concluded his explanations and clearly wished for them to leave. Likely he tired as much of the questions as she had. She nodded and rose. Fang was at her heel as she quietly left the room. She wanted to go outside. These buildings of civilization still felt suffocating to her. Tomorrow she would go to the trains. She had no idea how long the journey took, but she would be enclosed in one of the metal boxes for the duration. Best to look at the moons while she could..

Jack watches as the others depart and waits to see if anything happens here, otherwise he will retire for the evening and meet everyone in the morning.....

Magnus sat for a minute as the meeting concluded. So far, it seemed an interesting group.  The mission had some risks, however he can review the contract tomorrow at the tracks and decide how best to manipulate it if he can, or what dangers might be involved if they are listed.

Between it being a Dragonmarked house property, and that there will be both nobility as well as another prominent Dragonmarked member, conflict should be non existent.

He looked as others started to get up and leave, and bounded after the wild girl.  "Please, wait up.  You were pretty quite during the meeting.  Would you care for some company lassie?  We dont see many shifters in the Mror Holds "

The monk gives a nod of acknowledgment to each of his soon-to-be companions as the head out the door, and he watches them thoughtfully before he leaves as well.
He heads for the nearest Silver Flame temple, where he had been staying.  There he will gather his meager possessions to rejoin this group of individuals after an afternoon of work and a night of meditation and self-reflection.

Radira slows down her prowling step and turns to look down at the dwarf calling after her. His garb and way of acting still struck her of being almost an opposite of her own. But he would work with her on the task. They would form a pack. Sniffing him out might be good before they get started.
"Mror Holds." She tasted the words. Dwarfs lived in the mountains, or so she heard from the stories. Perhaps these mountain-homes were called holds? She contemplated the dwarf.
"You may come. We will speak. We are of one pack now."
She continued outside.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:00, Sat 10 Sept 2022.

Once everyone leaves the young man, finds nothing interesting to do, so eventually turns in for the night....

Magnus thought on her words as she walked.  Broken speech, probably not used to conversing woth people.  He rubbed his beard and nodded.  "Aye, suppose we are at that.  Interesting to think of it that way.  Well, I believe the Guildmaster called you Radira?  So tell me, he mentioned your wilderness skills.  And I believe you mentioned the Reaches.  You a member of those Wardens of the Woods?". Magnus asked, trying to get to know their companion from the woods.

"No." Came the simple reply. But Radira sensed the dwarf wished to know more of her. She decided to oblige him.
"I come from there. But there are many sects of druids. Many tribes. My tribe is of my people. Shifters. Our traditions are different from the Wardens. We look to the Moons, and those who speak for them. The Wardens look to the Great Druid, who we respect but do not follow. But there is no strife between our sects."

Radira stepped outside as they talked. Immediately she looked up to see the sky once more, free from the confines of the building. She took a deep breath. She knew where every moon was, night and day, even if she could not see them. She could feel them, each pulling at her. Whispering in words she could not understand. Feeding her inner beast, the ancient lycan blood, giving her strength. Every shifter drew power from the moons, or so she believed. Her people's bond to them was strong. She tried to imagine life without it, as the other races had to, but could not. She thought it must be an empty existence. She looked down at Magnus.

"Where do your people draw strength from?"

Magnus walked amd listened as the shifter spoke about different druidic sects.  He had heard that but knew little beyond they exist.  As she spoke of the moons and how they gathered their guidance from them he saw her pause as they exited.  Yes, not comfortable within the walls of structures as evident.  He was sure he could pull some strimgs and get her a room with a roof window or near the observation car.  So she didnt feel claustrophobic.

When she asked her question, he tilted his head to the side.  "Well, complcated question.  If you mean as a dwarf, then the answer would be the very stones.  Said we were born of Eberron itself, and why we are so close to the underground, the mines, the mountains.  If you mean my house?". He rolled up the sleeve of his robe, up to his bicep, showing off a Dragonmark.  "I suppose some of us draw power from these.  But, as a whole, the wealth and bounty of the stones.  Most dearves are natural crafters.  We fo love to build with our hands."

Sparky watched Jack leave quietly but eyes gleaming. In truth the construct wasn't opposed to minor mischief like this, but felt it was too likely they'd make trouble for themselves and unlikely to be all that pleasant. That one, Jack would need to be watched, to make sure a hand was there to lift him out of trouble when he stepped into it.

They readied to head back to the books for some reading, but stopped to listen to the religious discussion. The enigma of Moonspeaker tradition which seem wholly disconnected from Vvaraak's prophecy, and the first Orc druids, was of course interesting, but there was little hope the shifter was a scholar of such things, perhaps an elder could give some answers. The best tact would be to be polite interested and interesting, until better opportunity for inquiry became available. "Not to put too fine a point on it. We are strength. Dwarven crafted weapons are solid strength multipliers, but we Warforged are martial strength made form. Dwarves live and work the mountains, but we forged for war are stone, wood, metal and dragonshard made life." Despite the monotone, there was enough of a pitch drop in the construct voice at the end to actually sound a bit sad about it.

Radiza bent down to take a closer look at Magnus' arm. Her eyes traced the mesmerising pattern.
"A dragonmark? I have  heard the tales.." She mused. Then she rose again, contemplating the strange magical connection.
"My people do not possess them. But they are somehow tied to the world, of that I am sure, so it is said among my people. But I like your first answer better. Stone, the very solid ground we stand on. That is a thing of great strength, and your people must surely be connected to it for your skill at crafting it and even living so deep within it. Your people share that bond. Is that not a far deeper connection than that offered by the dragonmark within your House?"

She then looked sadly up to the Warforged.
"Life, as you say, yes. To see your kind is to know you do live in body. But I sense your despair, warforged. Yours is a crafted people. Outside of nature and the intended pattern of things. There is no higher power to call your own, or any purpose but the one you were build for or make for yourself. As the moons call to me, and the earth we trod lends strength to Magnus, you are disconnected from such things, are you not?"

"Sorry you misunderstand. You draw distinction, where there is none. The Dragon Eberron crafted the races of flesh. A crow builds it's nest with wood and mud, how then is the farmer in his cabin any less of the world.
We Warforged are as much a part of Eberron as any other. Your "nature" is an aesthetic idea of how things aught to be, not unlike the church of the Silver Flame who sought to impose their aesthetic values on what was. We were created in the liminal space between strongly held opposing ideas. Holy War, Political War, They call it the last war, not because it was the most recent, but because it is unlikely anyone would survive the next one so there must never be another war. Our most unifying aesthetic is war, war was the intention behind our creation, war was the forge that made us who we are, and yet we must prevent war for the good of all." The monotone of the construct was ever hard to read. The eyes dimmed slightly as if absent in thought they showed no sign of anger or distress, but began walking slowly towards the reading room.

"Do not compare me to the Silver Flame, warforged!" Radira hissed, her feral nature drastically presenting itself with bared fangs.
"Theirs is a false faith, stained with the genocide of my people. You think you carry wisdom? Why do my instincts tell me that all you do is parrot that which others have spoken?"

Jusepus had not gotten as far as he would have liked when the voice of the shifter grew in volume and vehemence.  This is not a conversation in which he wishes to be involved, but to which he is, unfortunately, drawn.
He follows the sound to the location where she argues with the warforged.  Expecting the shifter to attack when he makes his presence known,he steps into view with trepidation.  His stance is natural, non-threatening, loose, with his hands at his sides, his gaze unfocussed to tale in all around him, his feet shoulder width apart.  And, when he speaks, his voice is calm, collected, and serene, almost matching the monotone of the warforged.
For all of your bluster about the zealous history of themember od the Church of the Silver Flame, even in regards to those of us who are too young to have been involved in the murder of your people, it seems to me that YOU are the one filled with hate and prejudice.  One of my teachers once said, "One must be careful when fighting monsters, that they do not become like the monster they fight."
You, my dear, have become like the monster you hate.

Radira did not relent. In fact, her claws seemed ready to rend flesh from bone when Jusepus appeared, but she held back from physical conflict. Instead, she spoke bitterly.
"What rubbish. None of your kind have changed into Shifters. But call us monsters you do. Who cares this was in the past? My people are still driven from their ancestral homelands to the far ends of the world to this day. All the things taken from us, the Silver Flame never thought to return. No, they profess their holiness and say 'it is of the past' as if that excuses their crimes. It does not. Blood clings to the Silver Flame, and will until it has made full amends to my people. Until then all who adhere to its wishes share in its sins. You cannot overlook the Purge. It had defined your faith."
The Shifter's agitation transferred to Fang, who similarly became restless as she continued.

"I know it must be hard for you, boy. You want your patron to be shiny and holy and good. But it isn't. It is a thing of evil and genocide wearing the mask of benevolence. What it has done once it will do again. All it takes is for it to decry a new target as evil, and the Purge begins again. What will it be? Another round against the Shifters and the Lycans? Or the 'monsters' of Droam? Maybe the soulless Warforged? Or now that you have a theocracy, perhaps your neighboring nations?"

Magnus listened to Radira as she asked about the connection to the earth being stronger then that of the drsgonmark.  He laughed a bit when they were interrupted by the strange Warforged.  Listening to him, talk about they were martial strength iven form he raised hos brow.

That was when the conversation once again turned ugly, as the Warforged was.. insulted?  Hard to tell, but of course he had to try comparing the feral girl to the silver flame.  Was the warforge trying to get a rise outta her?

As the Warforged started down philosophy Magnus rolled his eyes.  "Sparky was it?  Your logic appears flawed to me.  A nest may be of nature, but does not make it natural.  Just as these stone streets and buildings.  Stone is from nature.  Stone is natural.  The building is not.  So while you might be of nature, your still crafted.  Anothers hands made you, or several.  You were built, sensless.  Inanimate, until whatever the creation forge did to you to animate you.  Give you life.  And yet, still most still so mechanical.  When granted freedom, many regiments remained wgere they were for days.  They had to be ordered to leave and disperce.  Your right in that you were a tool, a piece of equipment little different from the skeletons and zombies Karrnathi armies used.  And you are foolish if you think wars will end."

That was when the Flamer showed up speaking how Radira was a monster being as close minded as those she fought against and condemned.  Was this pick on the shifter day?  He quickly stepped between the two.

"Eh, we all ot histories.  But insultin each other aint gonna do naught but make this job harder. She obviously hot some ruffed fur when it comes yo the flame.  And its gonna be hard enough since we gonna be going through Thrane, luckly its the top part and only the one stop is on our trip is Thaliost.  So it should be easy.  Lets keep cool heads, and learn to work together.  The Guildmaster did say that this might become a more permanent arrangement."

Radira fired back at the Flammer and he stayed between the two to keep in the middle.  "Radira, it is in the past.  Its ok to not forget or forgive.  But you need to learn yo control ypur anger and show temperance.  The Church does good works and runs food kitchens, and many of your kind are among its members.  Like all faiths and beliefs it calls to some more then others.  The Flame calls to him the way the moon calls to you.  You are both drawn to it.  As you say hos faith makes him culprit to the crimes of his church are you held account by the horrors spread by your kin?  The werewolves that would turn whole villages?  Or the attacks by shifters from the woods against the encroaching civilization they deemed was unnatural?  Or any of the other events that the Church used to justify their Silver Crusade?  Do you condem the Flamers that hod shifters?  Or the shofters that acted as scouts for the crusaders to ferrit put Lycan dens?"

Radira felt her hot blood surge. As the dwarf's words tried to soothe and find reason, she could barely hear them. With iron will she urged her inner beast to still. When she finally cooled, she listened to the last part of Magnus' plea.
"Shifters and Lycans were never aligned. That's how the whole purge started, based on lies. We understand them better than most, can interact to some degree as we sometimes share the land, but they are too feral for even us to reason with for long. As for my people attacking interlopers.."

Her hard stare, now filled with a cold anger, returned to Jusepus.
"..we have been driven to the far end of the world. When you corner any animal, there comes a point where it turns back and fights."

The others had journeyed outside and they were obviously having discussions of major importance and also some heated tensions exist for some of them, once they have fully cleared out Jack waits around a bit, before he too is in the streets....

He considers the area around and looks back and forth.....what excitement awaits around this area and is there indeed trouble to be found...perhaps a rapscallion selling an arcane tome, or some beggars to get any local rumors....


21:07, Today: Jack Springhill rolled 23 using 1d20+5.  spot
This message was last edited by the player at 01:07, Thu 22 Sept 2022.

In reply to Radira Tuva (msg # 70):

Really?  Have you personally been driven to the far enda of the world?  Or, were you simply born there?  Jusepes voice remains calm, showing no signs of anger or rancor.  Are you going to continue living in the past?  For that way is where death and a repeat of those events lie.
His eyes go unfocussed as he stairs past her.  I see the past, I know the past.  And those are very uncomfortable truths.  Horrible things were done by both sides.  Your people's claws and fangs are no cleaner of blood than the swords and arrows of the Silver Flame.  But, the Silver Flame was born of Hope, and Goodness triumphing over Evil.
He shakes his head sadly as his gaze returns to the present.  Sure, there is Darkness in the Flame.  Just as there is Darkness in all of us.  But, which one survives in you depends upon which one you choose to feed.  I choose to feed the Light.  I choose not to live in the past,but to live for the future.   One where, hopefully, if I extend my hand in friendship, you won't try to rip it off and slap me with it.
He shrugs.  I have no ill-wil,l or hate, or fear, for you.  Just as I hold no ill-will, or hate, or fear, for changelings.  Or orcs.  Or goblins.  Or dragon-kin.  Or Cyrans, for that matter.   He shrugs again.  None of us is worthy of hate directed at us for being who and what we are born.  It is what we do that determines that.

Jack spots a small sign  on a shop that is adjacent to the main road...
"Emeralde Tomes and Crimson Phylacteries".....

"This holds some promise..."


He walks through the beaded curtains into the incense filled air.....(ad lib)...

"Hello?"

Casts detect magic through his arcane attunment....

He looks into the melange of curiosities, baubles, trinkets, and other knick knacks......
This message was last edited by the player at 14:32, Fri 23 Sept 2022.

"Lies and deceit. I was born in a different land than my ancestors because of the Silver Flame. That is another way how its crime endures. But tell me, serpent-tongue; What people have shifters massacred? Burned at stakes for the crime of existing? Hunted down to the ends of the world? Whose blood do we have on our claws as you say?"

Radira prowled, watching her enemy intensely with feline eyes.
"The mistakes of the past being repeated is exactly what you are doing. Throwing allegiance to a monstrous force that conquers nations and commits unspeakable evil in the name of so-called good. So eagerly you spread its lies and defend it, ignoring the horror it spread because it does not suit you to think on it, nor do you make any effort to have it account for its misdeeds."

"Interesting, I read more metaphysics than history, but even Shifter scholars I'm aware of either claim Shifter are a stabilized lineage of the more chaotic and infectious lycanthropes, or that lycanthropy itself was a Demonic or Daelkyr based curse that split from the Shifter line. On it's face it seems like you're conjecturing an untestable claim to vilify a your chosen victims, precisely the sort or crime against reason the Puritans used against your ancestors. The lyncanthropic inquisition was a response to millions being slaughtered at random across Khovaire mostly by infected wererats and werewolves but we're going in circles.

Perhaps a softer question of lunology would help break the ice. I was forged under Zarantyr the storm moon. Zarantyr influences the mark of Storms born by the house Lyrandar and is connected to Syrania the Azure Sky which manifests in Sharn, which is as close to home as I have. Those made under Zarantyr are said to possess wild unbridled and boundless energy.

What about you Jusepus, when were you born? They say more Paladin of the Flame are born under Olarune, than in any other month, though a skeptic I believe this was more to do with certain unofficial sacraments of Promisetide." The Construct "Sparky" Buzzed slightly with inner power talking about boundless energy, but mostly seemed to want to position itself as a scholar above and separated from the underlying conflict.

OOC: In modern terms she just asked Jusepus what his astrological sign was.
https://eberron.fandom.com/wiki/Calendar
https://www.worldanvil.com/w/e...s-of-eberron-article
Each month is named after one of the twelve moons. Olarune is associated with both the Silver Flame and Shifters.

"Millions? You are delusional warforged, or very poorly informed. What nations have lycanthropes burned to the ground? What cities razed with every man, woman and child to reach such numbers? None. And even if it was but a fraction, their crimes are not those of my people."

So, you say that no shifter,in all of history, has ever committed a crime or an act of unmitigated evil?  None?  Not even just one?  Not ever has a shifter harmed an innocent?  ai would have to say that you are either blissfully ignorant, intentionally ignorant, or an outright liar on that.  But, admittedly, I have no actual proof of that.  Other than there not being a single other species in the world that can boast that.
He shakes his head but gives a small smile.  I was a small and frail child, an orphan of The War in a refugee camp, he explains, near death when I was brought to Flamekeep by one of The Flame's paladins.  They healed me.
Fed me.  Clothed me.  Housed me.  Raised me.  Cared for me,  Taught me.  Trained me.  Gave me a life, a family, a sense of purpose.  Would your people have done the same for me?  Or, would my death just have been "the course of nature"?
He turns to the warforged.  I don't know when I was born.  The closest I know to my birthdate is the day I was rescued, which was in Therendor.  Hells, I don't even know how old I am; the priests estimated I was about four years of age when I was found.  But, if I take the day I was saved from death, as a kind of "re-birthday," I am seventeen.
His gaze and attention return to the shifter.  How many werewolves and wererats are responsible for the ultimate fate of people who have "gone missing"?

"What a poor argument you make, zealot. Of course Shifters have killed just as any race, but we never banded together to exterminate another people off the face of the world, nor a nation, as your power-hungry and murderous superiors have in times past, times that seem to come again as you now claim land as your own. And the crimes of the lycantrhropes are theirs. I do not defend them. The sickness makes them moon-mad and dangerous, even to my people. They can still infect us, you know? And the cures only rarely work."

She looked over the boy. She understood his loyalty to his saviors, but it made him blindly loyal.
"I cannot speak for what a Shifter might do when they find an abandoned human babe at their doorstep. That is up to the Shifter, or tribe. We would not take one in, that much is true, as our ways do not fit humans. But perhaps we would pass it on to the human tribes or druids. It would be a small burden to do so. Perhaps you would have grown up under the Great Druid's tutelage. And perhaps the Shifter does not want to bother, and would have ignored your plight. Is it not the same for humans? How many passed you by before your masters came? Who is to say they did not adopt you just so you would become their little preacher, serving their own ends?"

"You don't know the history Radira. I do. The Lycanthropy surge of 830 saw several changes to the observed behavior of the curse/disease, the best known is that prior only those born lycanthropes could spread the condition to others. Now Lycanthropy can be spread by those infected later in life. Entire towns WERE wiped out by the disease. That is well known.
But there seem to have been other changes as well. Druidic scholar observed that even previously kind breeds of lycanthropes such as werebears became violent and sadistic. There is also the matter of Sharn. Sharn had multiple wererat nests, the infection rate spread the curse through the lower city with ease. Infected wererats marched together against the church of the Silver Flame in armies as if an organized attempt to break the ward holding the Overlords in Khyber.
The shifter tribes were not innocent bystanders in this. Several tribes aligned themselves with and even seemed to worship the Lycanthropes an apparent corruption of the Blessing of Olarune theory of Lycanthropy, which seems likely to have been a cynical geopolitical land grab that went very poorly in the end. Most tribes seem to prefer neutrality but the Lycanthrope positioned themselves to use the Shifter tribes as a shield. Add a bit of perfidy by Lycanthropes, sympathetic shifters, or possibly infected shifters and you end up sparking the slaughter you describe. And yes Puritans saw this and spuriously concluded all Shifter were culpable should be slaughtered but the official stance was shifters were innocent until they personally committed to the lycanthropic cause.
These details lead me to believe the confluence of moons of moons explanation is unlikely to be complete. Personally I find the Demonic Overlord loosening it shackles, most likely in which case the goal of it's using perfidy to get shifters slaughtered was to drive a wedge between two orders of sentinels that defend Eberron. After all it is Olarune the Sentinel who brings more paladin of the Flame to be born that month than any other.
I am incapable of sleep and have no war to fight to occupy my days. If I'm not working I'm reading. I have read several thousand tomes on the matter. I know more of religious matters than most priests even those who are scholars."
The construct locked primarily on Radira, gazing hard through the crystals where the eye should be. Points of lightning burned at a constant low intensity producing a barely audible buzzing sound.

Jack stands still but keeps looking around.....

"Hello?  I have coin, I am a customer......"


He takes in all the curiosities of the shop, perhaps there is a dusty tome of magic to be found here, or some trinket to add to his growing collection of odds and ends......
This message was last edited by the player at 13:34, Tue 11 Oct 2022.

Jusepus shrugs at Radira.  Perhaps we can learn from each other one day.  Until then, however, we will still have to work together.  At least for a while.
He looks around.  I think I could use a meal, and I do not feel like returning to the temple, yet.  I wonder where I can find a decent tavern.  Or,at least one that washes the glasses sometimes.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:43, Fri 30 Dec 2022.

Jack pokes around the shop and looks at everything possible, seeing no apparent deadline....