Into The Depths - IC

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Board Rider
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Into The Depths - IC

The walk to the Dorasharn is a rather simple, albeit lengthy, one from the Broken Anvil. The map Lady Elaydren provided you allows you to easily reach the lowest inhabited levels of the tower. Your walk down to these depths has proven to be interesting. The farther down you go the living conditions tend to become less...civilized.

The tunnels on this level are narrow and dark. There are sporadic slits in the walls that serve as windows and provide a view of crowded walls and foundations of other towers. It is still raining, albeit not as heavily as the night before, and rain sporadically finds its way into the tunnels.

Intermittent, and seemingly random, torches sputter giving off more smoke than light. The smell of sweat, garbage, and sewage hang heavily in the air as you make your way through small crowds of dirty people and trash. Quickly, each of you recognizes that getting from the lowest inhabited part of the tower and into the sewers is going to require some help.

A short time later you hear a loud commotion ahead of you. The tunnel opens into a large chamber. A random mix of humans, shifters, goblins, and various other humanoids too cloaked or dirty to recognize huddle around small piles of garbage sitting on three rotting blankets.

One of the goblinoids can be heard shouting over the commotion, "No pushing! No pushing! There's always enough for everyone at the Rats Market!"

deadDMwalking
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Margana's face is a mix of unabashed curiosity and distaste for the smell. She stares too long at heavily cloaked figures as though trying to identify whether it is someone she knows. Fortunately, with a heavily armed war-party with her, nobody makes an issue of her ignorance of social custom in the depths.

drumandfight
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No One walks as confidently as ever. Easily a head or more taller than most assembled, he knew it would be no use to attempt to fit in. So instead he goes for the full affect. If someone had an issue with the newcomers, hopefully his presence alone would be a deterrent.

"The smell here is very interesting. It reminds me a bit of the smells just after a battle. Sweet, but not in an enticing way. It is the sweet of rotten meat. This does not seem to be a preferable place to dwell."

deadDMwalking
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"The depths are usually where the poorest and most desperate congregate. This is usually a good place to make connections with the criminal element, as well. It is not a nice place to live - at least, not for nice people."

Darker

"Nonsense!" Swarbrick exclaims loudly, "That is the smell of opportunities! There may be a few of the more unsavory types down here, but we're also here, eh?" As he walks, he steps in something resembling a brownish ooze and attempts to scrape it off his boot and on the floor.

"Let's go see what they have at the Rat's Market today," He points toward the shouting goblinoid and starts that way, "That place seems popular."

drumandfight
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No One smiled at Swarbrick's cheerful demeanor. "He has the right of it! A place for opportunities. Morale such as Swarbrick's can change the entire course of a fight."

With that he turns and follows the swashbuckler.

Board Rider
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As each of you progress towards the small gathering the mixture of body fluids, trash and sewage becomes stronger.

The sad state of affairs of each humanoid is ever present as, upon closer inspection, or just getting closer, reveals that the huddled masses are down right dirty. Most of the goblins and shifters shrink away from each of as you get closer to the piles of debris. Whether its recognition, or her height, a few of the cloaked figures reach out to Dookie pleadingly, albeit sheepishly. Although difficult to see through the grime, the priestess recognizes she is looking at the faces of children. Another cloaked figure proves to be a badly damaged, and bent over, warforged. Cuts, gouges and chunks are littered across the war torn mechanical soldier. If this warforgred had a soul, it is as lost as it's missing left arm and, if anyone looks closer, it's eyes and vocal mechanism.

Reaching the piles of debris the goblin running the show eyes each of you warily.

"Hmmm...it's has been awhile since Skakan has seen adventurers in these parts. What brings you here to the Rats Market?"

Talanall
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Dookie looks up from where she was giving a copper coin to a particularly bedraggled street child, and favors the goblin with a lopsided grin. "Shopping. You look like a goblin who knows where to find stuff. Am I right, Mister Skakan?"

Wæs se grimma gæst Grendel haten,
mære mearcstapa, se þe moras heold

Board Rider
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A look of amusement quickly flashes on the face of the goblin and anyone who is interested can see a faint shimmer in the goblins crusty eyeballs.

But Skakan is apparently no fool and regains his composure, "Perhaps. But take a look at my wares. All sorts of useful items!"

With a flare the goblin spreads his arms wide,"I have got sealing wax, only partially used, for sixty coppers! Or how about this woolen blanket with just a touch of mildew for thirty coppers?"

The goblin merchant quickly focuses in on the group and quits the theater. Speaking lower and with more seriousness, "Or perhaps if I could point out a way to a certain valve cluster? What would that be worth to adventurers such as yourselves? One hundred silver?"

Wrench doesn't see anyone making any quick moves. If anything a few dispersed from the area and head back towards the tunnels. No One, meanwhile, paws through the piles and doesn't find anything of particular value.

drumandfight
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After pawing through the piles, No One moves back to the hunched over warforged. The glow of his eyes takes a darker tone as he inspects him. "What is your story, I wonder," he ponder aloud.

He looks back to Wrench. "Wrench, what do you make of this one?"

Darker

Swarbrick grins at Skakan and speaks in a loud, boisterous voice, "Well, you certainly at the purveyor of some high quality and wondrous items! How do you stay in business with such deals?" He looks to the other denizens of the underground market as if he's genuinely impressed with the selection and price.

"But a tour of the valve clusters, you say? Why that sounds absolutely delightful! I've always said I would love to see more of the city's valve clusters. Isn't that right, Dookie?" He pauses, "There was even one in particular that I wanted to visit, to get it off the ol' bucket list. What was that cluster, Dookie?"

Talanall
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Dookie grins at Swarbrick, and then at Skakan, and replies, "I bet Mister Skakan already knows!" She picks up a skewer of boiled rat meat, and suggests, "I'll just let you and him discuss that possibility, eh? Maybe have a little snack while I wait. If he can tell us how he knows we're valve cluster aficionados, why, maybe there's even a premium in it for him. Negotiate." Waggling the skewer, she shifts gears and asks the goblin, "How much? And do you have any mustard? I like rat with mustard."

Wæs se grimma gæst Grendel haten,
mære mearcstapa, se þe moras heold

Darker

Swarbrick nods to Dookie and turns back to Skakan, still holding his smile, "You heard my charming companion, what do you have to say about her little observation?"

Board Rider
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Skakans head cycles between Dookie and Vicks, "I know a little about a lot of things." the goblin begins coyly.

"And the skewer is a copper piece...I am afraid mustard isn't on the menu today."

This isn't Skakan's first rodeo and the merchant continues, "Information is going to cost you one hundred silvers! If you're not interested in purchasing anything I suggest you move on. I have customers waiting."

It isn't an incorrect observation. While there isn't a holiday stampede, there are various denizens gathering slowly in the area. Wrench is still fairly confident that nobody is looking for trouble, a few grubby humans are looking at Skakans wares, but his attention to the strange warforged has split his attention.

MinusInnocence
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Wrench follows #1's gaze over to the nearly disabled Warforged. He follows the warrior over and leans down perhaps five or six feet away, but speaking in a lower, private tone.

"I am like you. If you would permit it, I will see what I can do to get you up and running again. You're no good to anyone in this state."

"Every normal man must be tempted, at times, to spit on his hands, hoist the black flag and begin slitting throats." - H.L. Mencken

drumandfight
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No One's inner essence softens at Wrench's words. He was very grateful to have his companion around; his knowledge in the workings, inside and out, of their kind was invaluable to No One in particular as one often took damage in battle. However, it was clearly important for other reasons as this disabled Warforged was evidence of.

"Let me know if I can aid you in any way, Wrench."

Board Rider
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The warforged seemingly doesn't hear Wrench's words at first. Stopping momentarily, the heavily cloaked warforged stops and and tilts it's head in the general area towards Wrench but it is difficult to tell if it is due to Wrench or the parlay going on between Swar and the goblin merchant. If the battered warforged can see without eyes it appears it is difficult at best.

Wrench is interrupted by a little girl, perhaps no more than ten years old by the artifcer's quick once over, who kneels down next to him. In a quiet, innocent voice, the little girl offers, "He cannot see you." Giggling, the little girl stands and looks up at the massive form that is No One "Yooouuuureee biiig!"

drumandfight
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No One looks down and tips his head at the small figure. "Yes and you are small." His eyes have gone a much lighter shade of blue and he does his best to smile. Humans and the like tended to be more agreeable when smiled at.

"Do you know him?" He points to the damaged Warforged.

Talanall
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Dookie pays for the skewer with a shiny new copper, and chows down in a most unladylike fashion. Around a hunk of rat meat, she says to Swarbeck, "I fing da negotfiafons ur yur yob, Warmeg. Eems pensive uh ee."

Swallowing, she comments to nobody in particular, "Yeah, needs mustard. Or maybe some dill."

Wæs se grimma gæst Grendel haten,
mære mearcstapa, se þe moras heold

Darker

Swarbrick nods at Dookie's mumblings and says loudly, "Yes, it does, doesn't it! It's too bad, Skakan seems like such a nice fellow." Turning back to the goblin, "I'm sorry, but we are a bit short on funds but have an overabundance of time to wander around and seek another vendor. We'd love to give you some business and coin, but I'm sure we can find our own way... It really is just too bad." Swarbrick slowly starts to turn away.

Board Rider
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The goblin merchant shrugs, "I am sure you can. The human thought he could as well. Although, I haven't seen him around lately."

There is a definitive, knowing, edge and tone to the salesman's voice as he continues in goblin, "This isn't the surface and you're no tracker. This isn't where you belong."

The little girl giggles and offers No One a innocent grin, "We all know each other down here. My mom says, well, used to say, strangers are just friends you haven't met yet. What is your name? My name is Amanda." As a way of introduction she holds out a tattered doll to No One.

Darker

Swarbrick smiles back and glances up, "Isn't the surface? So that's where the sun has gone! I was wondering why my human eyes were failing me and I was bumping into all kinds of things down here in the dark!" Looking back to the goblin, with a slight change in tone, "How about 50 silver, then... to help this human and his mechanized companions out. A simple bit of information and you'll be a quick 50 silver richer."

Board Rider
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Reverting back to common, "I will go to ninety silver. Certainly, a well traveled party such as yours can swing that. I'll even walk you to the cluster. The dark can be dangerous down here."

Talanall
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Dookie runs the tip of her tongue around the outside of her gums, makes a face, and casually tells Margana, "The problem with unseasoned rat is the aftertaste."

Wæs se grimma gæst Grendel haten,
mære mearcstapa, se þe moras heold

Darker

"Oh! Such concern for our well being! But I'm afraid our foreign, surface dwelling appearance might have caused you to mistake us for some other more wealthy individuals. Perhaps we could go to 60 silver and even then I'll have to tell my dear sweet mother she'll need to skip a few meals this week."

MinusInnocence
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Wrench looks back over his shoulder. "#1. If you could hold it still, it may recoil at my touch." The Warforged's eyes dim as he turns back to regard the nearly disabled unit. He closes his fist and blows on it, then opens his hand to reveal a pulsing white light. As soon as the warrior complies with his request, the artificer lays his palm over the wretched thing's face. "Be restored. Return to the path of finding your purpose - not the one you were created to fulfill, but the one you were born with."

"Every normal man must be tempted, at times, to spit on his hands, hoist the black flag and begin slitting throats." - H.L. Mencken