Finn lifts a letter from Makfert. When Finn gets a moment to inspect the letter. The contents are just a laundry list of errands. Although there is a strange quality to the paper, where there is a slight glint when looking at it from certain angles.
The elevator door opens as Makfert walks into Melkus's office, closing the door behind him. The bakery is now full with people buying baked goods for the day. You can hear the clatter of plates and utensils. There is also din of people chatting away.
Varlan sniffs the air, "I for one would vote for a cab. It might be a little slower, but the price is more reasonable. Perhaps meet beneath the large clocktower at the station?"
With that he hails a cab, then waits for anyone else who cares to share the space -- and hopefully the fare.
As Varlan settles into the cab, he looks around at the others who decided to join him. "Well...I had expected some small task like the Alliance usually hands out. This is an unexpected turn of events. It seems such an important task, if you believe all the rumours, that I find myself wondering if we are meant to succeed."
Varlan nods, then smiles in appreciation of the compliment, ""Tis the product of my life's work," he says with obvious pride. "Though it is much more than a fashion statement, it is ... you may not properly comprehend this..." He holds up one of his hands for Norros to see as the gauntlets begin to grow sinuously from his wrists once more before retreating again. "It is ... who I am. Part of me, as I am part of it."
He pauses to gauge Norros' reaction before adding in a quieter and more thoughtful voice, "There is still much more work to do, and much to learn, but it is a beginning, at least. Perfection takes time."
"That's some project. Although perhaps a bit gauche, so why? What perfect thing will it do perfectly? I would assume such a device to be necessary prosthesis. But I see no limp as you walk, and those hands looked homegrown to me." Norros is now smiling as he talks. He's clearly giving you a soapbox and a listening audience if you're eager to show off.
(To solve the transportation debate I will blend the 2)
Everyone is squished into a cab and travels for a few miles before the car starts experiencing engine trouble. You can hear a loud rattling noise coming from the engine. The cabby driver, An elven woman with dark hair tied into a bun pulls over. She hops down and pops the hood revealing a cloud full of steam billowing from the engine. "I am sorry the old gal gave up the ghost.There's a train stop not too far from here. I am really sorry and here take these rail travel vouchers" So the party travels to the trains station and redeem the vouchers for tickets. Soon after they are seated in the 2nd class train compartment. A steam whistle can be heard as the train pulls out of the station. The cityscape whizzes by as everyone gets to know each other. An hour passes before they reach the Pauperis District train station.
(( Re: Transport, I had just assume we'd go by different means and meet "under the clock tower" at the station, but ll together gets the intro's done! ))
"That's some project. Although perhaps a bit gauche, so why? What perfect thing will it do perfectly? I would assume such a device to be necessary prosthesis. But I see no limp as you walk, and those hands looked homegrown to me." Norros is now smiling as he talks. He's clearly giving you a soapbox and a listening audience if you're eager to show off.
"Gauche you say? Hmm...," Varlan looks a little surprised by the thought, staring for a moment at his fleshy hands as the gauntlets threaten to return. Eventually he shrugs and looks up, "...aesthetics are a matter of taste, but for me both form and function are inextricably linked. It may not be fine silk brocade, but it has considerable functional benefits to compensate."
"The body that we were all born with is a truly remarkable creation. It is an intricate machine the likes of which we can not -- yet -- hope to fully replicate. But it has its weaknesses." He leans forward in his seat, happy to espouse the virtues of his grand plan. "It is, as you say, fleshy: It is easily broken and hard to repair. I myself waited a full year to have a limb replaced, but that time was a revelation to me. I learned what it was like to be imprisoned in failing flesh, and ... by virtue of a prosthetic ... I learned the limitations of the simple machine. Of course, prosthetics have come a long way since then, but the lesson was valuable."
"This..." he flourishes both hands to indicate his body and armour, "...this is better than armour and better than a body. I am a synthesis of man and machine. Were I to lose my arm again, this armour would compensate -- after I recovered from the trauma of course -- and, because it is part of me, noone would be able to tell the difference except when the armour was removed."
He draws a breath and looks down at his hands as the gauntlets re-emerge, sparks now playing over their surface. "By harnessing galvanic forces I can inflict grievous harm by a simple touch, and I can use those very same forces to enhance my life force. I can even -- given a little time -- reconfigure my outer shell to become something faster, stealthier and able to launch bolts of galvanic force a considerable distance. But that..." he laughs and nods to Norros, "...that is something that I find gauche! Though I have on occasion found use for the speed and silent footsteps." He seems lost in memories for a moment before focusing again.
"Well...anyway." He clears his throat and looks around the cabin, conscious once more of the small space and that the others may not be as interested in his tale as Norros, "Suffice to say, I strive to perfect the hybrid strength that the merging of man and machine affords us. Neither is superior to the other, but as with so many things, they are together greater than the sum of their parts."
Thordahr sits back in the train car listening to the conversation contemplating. After some time he interjects, and says, "How do you determine where the machine begins and the flesh ends? And at what point is the man more machine and no longer a man? Can the machine be healed by magical means like Lady Elestine provides her followers like myself? "
Varlan nods, "A good question and a fascinating philosophical point. One which I have pondered often."
He leans back in his seat and looks out the window pointing to the array of vehicles on the road in the distance. "Consider the many years ago when horse-drawn carts were the standard mode of transport. Where did the machine end? Was the driver part of it? Were the horses? The cart by itself is inert: It requires the other components to function."
"If you prefer something more modern, consider this train: Without a stoker and a driver it will not function. And I don't even address the maintenance crews for either!"
"It is my view that they are composite machines with biological and mechanical parts, each functioning together, and each greater than the sum of its parts. So it is with me."
He waits for a moment, then takes a deep breath before continuing. "But to answer your specific question, let's go back to the cart. If the horse becomes lame it will need to be healed (or, in a sadder world, sent to the knackery). If a wheel breaks, it will be sent to the wheelwright. If the suspension breaks it will likely go to the smithy. If the driver becomes ill, they will go to a healer."
"So it is with me: when my armoured skin is damaged, I need to remove it and go to a smithy, and when my fleshy internals need repair, I go to a healer."
"Hmmm, fascinating philosophy indeed. I will bring up the question in the next roundtable for discussion with my brethren. They are not as inclined towards combat as I, and spend most of their time in their studies instead of martial prowess. I imagine it's a question that will keep them busy for weeks!" Thordahr says, a wry smile appearing on his weathered, dwarven face.
Finn yawns then looks about quickly as if surprises and hoping nobody noticed. “Fascinating, really! I think they just accidentally gave me decaf back at the bakery is all…” (Deception: 7 )
“Let me ask you this though,” she continues as she readjust her green hair with the white stripe back into a well kept poneytail. “If your people bits are just parts… And you are greater than your parts… Aren’t you basically saying you are better than all us fully people people?”
Finn takes off her glasses and uses a handkerchief to wipe them clean. “Cause I frankly think I’m perfect just the way I am…”
“And what do you make of this?” She asks handing Varlan the piece of paper she stole earlier,, not leaving room for the previous questions to be answered. “That guy who showed up when we were leaving must have dropped it… Seems like nothing, but the paper seems odd, don’t it?”
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Varlan is about to answer Finn seriously then smiles at her subsequent comment. He is once again about to launch into an answer when she presents the unusual piece of paper. Raising his eyebrows, he takes hold of it gingerly. Dropped, eh? Need to keep an eye on this one. He glances atFinn before sniffing the paper and holding it up to the light
"Interesting. I wonder if there is any magic involved? Though such a question will have to wait."
He spends a few moments examining it closely, trying to determine whatever he can by mundane means.
Varlan also sees the strange glint when looking at the paper from certain angles. The glint seem to allude to something more, but it does not reveal itself through mundane investigations.
The train pulls into a Pauperis train station. Upon leaving the train station, the stark contrast between districts is very apparent. It is currently late morning. The buildings are at different levels of dilapidation and some of the buildings are boarded up. The pungent odor of trash assaults your nose. There are several miners rushing to work as they run towards the train station. The people's clothing is more threadbare with patches and many are gaunt with sullen expressions. You can hear the crying of a child in the distance and arguments near a food stall.
(Finn is very familiar with this district and can act as a guide. The only clue so far is Tebith's Lounge)
Train - 1 gold Cabby - 5 silvers
Finn lifts a letter from Makfert. When Finn gets a moment to inspect the letter. The contents are just a laundry list of errands. Although there is a strange quality to the paper, where there is a slight glint when looking at it from certain angles.
The elevator door opens as Makfert walks into Melkus's office, closing the door behind him. The bakery is now full with people buying baked goods for the day. You can hear the clatter of plates and utensils. There is also din of people chatting away.
Varlan sniffs the air, "I for one would vote for a cab. It might be a little slower, but the price is more reasonable. Perhaps meet beneath the large clocktower at the station?"
With that he hails a cab, then waits for anyone else who cares to share the space -- and hopefully the fare.
(( @DM: How does the fare get split? ))
(1 person can pay the fare and each member can take turns paying for transportation)
Norros follows Varlan. "The cost doesn't worry me, but I would like a chance to get to know the team better."
Paladin - warforged - orange
(During the ride over to Pauperis District everyone can take time introducing your characters and getting to know each other.)
(I have 1 for train and 1 for cabby. I will let the next person choose the transport method)
As Varlan settles into the cab, he looks around at the others who decided to join him. "Well...I had expected some small task like the Alliance usually hands out. This is an unexpected turn of events. It seems such an important task, if you believe all the rumours, that I find myself wondering if we are meant to succeed."
"I think we are meant to succeed. If we weren't, he'd have buttered us up." Norros shrugs. "That's an interesting fashion choice you're wearing."
Paladin - warforged - orange
Varlan nods, then smiles in appreciation of the compliment, ""Tis the product of my life's work," he says with obvious pride. "Though it is much more than a fashion statement, it is ... you may not properly comprehend this..." He holds up one of his hands for Norros to see as the gauntlets begin to grow sinuously from his wrists once more before retreating again. "It is ... who I am. Part of me, as I am part of it."
He pauses to gauge Norros' reaction before adding in a quieter and more thoughtful voice, "There is still much more work to do, and much to learn, but it is a beginning, at least. Perfection takes time."
"That's some project. Although perhaps a bit gauche, so why? What perfect thing will it do perfectly? I would assume such a device to be necessary prosthesis. But I see no limp as you walk, and those hands looked homegrown to me." Norros is now smiling as he talks. He's clearly giving you a soapbox and a listening audience if you're eager to show off.
Paladin - warforged - orange
Sieghart would be in favor of the train, as it would be a faster mean of transportation.
(To solve the transportation debate I will blend the 2)
Everyone is squished into a cab and travels for a few miles before the car starts experiencing engine trouble. You can hear a loud rattling noise coming from the engine. The cabby driver, An elven woman with dark hair tied into a bun pulls over. She hops down and pops the hood revealing a cloud full of steam billowing from the engine. "I am sorry the old gal gave up the ghost. There's a train stop not too far from here. I am really sorry and here take these rail travel vouchers" So the party travels to the trains station and redeem the vouchers for tickets. Soon after they are seated in the 2nd class train compartment. A steam whistle can be heard as the train pulls out of the station. The cityscape whizzes by as everyone gets to know each other. An hour passes before they reach the Pauperis District train station.
(( Re: Transport, I had just assume we'd go by different means and meet "under the clock tower" at the station, but ll together gets the intro's done! ))
"Gauche you say? Hmm...," Varlan looks a little surprised by the thought, staring for a moment at his fleshy hands as the gauntlets threaten to return. Eventually he shrugs and looks up, "...aesthetics are a matter of taste, but for me both form and function are inextricably linked. It may not be fine silk brocade, but it has considerable functional benefits to compensate."
"The body that we were all born with is a truly remarkable creation. It is an intricate machine the likes of which we can not -- yet -- hope to fully replicate. But it has its weaknesses." He leans forward in his seat, happy to espouse the virtues of his grand plan. "It is, as you say, fleshy: It is easily broken and hard to repair. I myself waited a full year to have a limb replaced, but that time was a revelation to me. I learned what it was like to be imprisoned in failing flesh, and ... by virtue of a prosthetic ... I learned the limitations of the simple machine. Of course, prosthetics have come a long way since then, but the lesson was valuable."
"This..." he flourishes both hands to indicate his body and armour, "...this is better than armour and better than a body. I am a synthesis of man and machine. Were I to lose my arm again, this armour would compensate -- after I recovered from the trauma of course -- and, because it is part of me, noone would be able to tell the difference except when the armour was removed."
He draws a breath and looks down at his hands as the gauntlets re-emerge, sparks now playing over their surface. "By harnessing galvanic forces I can inflict grievous harm by a simple touch, and I can use those very same forces to enhance my life force. I can even -- given a little time -- reconfigure my outer shell to become something faster, stealthier and able to launch bolts of galvanic force a considerable distance. But that..." he laughs and nods to Norros, "...that is something that I find gauche! Though I have on occasion found use for the speed and silent footsteps." He seems lost in memories for a moment before focusing again.
"Well...anyway." He clears his throat and looks around the cabin, conscious once more of the small space and that the others may not be as interested in his tale as Norros, "Suffice to say, I strive to perfect the hybrid strength that the merging of man and machine affords us. Neither is superior to the other, but as with so many things, they are together greater than the sum of their parts."
Thordahr sits back in the train car listening to the conversation contemplating. After some time he interjects, and says, "How do you determine where the machine begins and the flesh ends? And at what point is the man more machine and no longer a man? Can the machine be healed by magical means like Lady Elestine provides her followers like myself? "
Varlan nods, "A good question and a fascinating philosophical point. One which I have pondered often."
He leans back in his seat and looks out the window pointing to the array of vehicles on the road in the distance. "Consider the many years ago when horse-drawn carts were the standard mode of transport. Where did the machine end? Was the driver part of it? Were the horses? The cart by itself is inert: It requires the other components to function."
"If you prefer something more modern, consider this train: Without a stoker and a driver it will not function. And I don't even address the maintenance crews for either!"
"It is my view that they are composite machines with biological and mechanical parts, each functioning together, and each greater than the sum of its parts. So it is with me."
He waits for a moment, then takes a deep breath before continuing. "But to answer your specific question, let's go back to the cart. If the horse becomes lame it will need to be healed (or, in a sadder world, sent to the knackery). If a wheel breaks, it will be sent to the wheelwright. If the suspension breaks it will likely go to the smithy. If the driver becomes ill, they will go to a healer."
"So it is with me: when my armoured skin is damaged, I need to remove it and go to a smithy, and when my fleshy internals need repair, I go to a healer."
"Hmmm, fascinating philosophy indeed. I will bring up the question in the next roundtable for discussion with my brethren. They are not as inclined towards combat as I, and spend most of their time in their studies instead of martial prowess. I imagine it's a question that will keep them busy for weeks!" Thordahr says, a wry smile appearing on his weathered, dwarven face.
Finn yawns then looks about quickly as if surprises and hoping nobody noticed. “Fascinating, really! I think they just accidentally gave me decaf back at the bakery is all…” (Deception: 7 )
“Let me ask you this though,” she continues as she readjust her green hair with the white stripe back into a well kept poneytail. “If your people bits are just parts… And you are greater than your parts… Aren’t you basically saying you are better than all us fully people people?”
Finn takes off her glasses and uses a handkerchief to wipe them clean. “Cause I frankly think I’m perfect just the way I am…”
“And what do you make of this?” She asks handing Varlan the piece of paper she stole earlier,, not leaving room for the previous questions to be answered. “That guy who showed up when we were leaving must have dropped it… Seems like nothing, but the paper seems odd, don’t it?”
Varlan is about to answer Finn seriously then smiles at her subsequent comment. He is once again about to launch into an answer when she presents the unusual piece of paper. Raising his eyebrows, he takes hold of it gingerly. Dropped, eh? Need to keep an eye on this one. He glances atFinn before sniffing the paper and holding it up to the light
"Interesting. I wonder if there is any magic involved? Though such a question will have to wait."
He spends a few moments examining it closely, trying to determine whatever he can by mundane means.
Investigation: 14
Varlan also sees the strange glint when looking at the paper from certain angles. The glint seem to allude to something more, but it does not reveal itself through mundane investigations.
The train pulls into a Pauperis train station. Upon leaving the train station, the stark contrast between districts is very apparent. It is currently late morning. The buildings are at different levels of dilapidation and some of the buildings are boarded up. The pungent odor of trash assaults your nose. There are several miners rushing to work as they run towards the train station. The people's clothing is more threadbare with patches and many are gaunt with sullen expressions. You can hear the crying of a child in the distance and arguments near a food stall.
(Finn is very familiar with this district and can act as a guide. The only clue so far is Tebith's Lounge)