"Lost your voice huh?" Saralyssa is instantly caught up with this and moves over to the old warforge. "Hmmm..." She says, drumming her fingers on her thigh as she thinks. "Could be the old style silver Span Vibrator they use to use..." She cocks her head at the warforge for a bit. "Any idea how old you are by chance? You look like a series IV, but it is hard to tell these days..."
Everyone seemed to be ok with the situation, 'Maybe I am being too paranoid'she thought to herself. She watched as Saralyssa got to work on the Warforged, magi tech was beyond Wisp's scope of knowledge; she envied Saralyssa a bit though, Warforged, air ships, all of that was much more concrete, logical, trying to decipher another persons intentions however was much more abstract. There was no guide to the mortal soul.
Deciding it best to go along with the rest of the group so as not spark any suspicion Wisp stepped out from behind the others, "I'd sure like a space in that cart, I don't take much room and my dogs are barkin something fierce"
Urmdir looks over the wagon and the supplies. He then begins moving things around, attempting to create as much space as possible while evenly distributing the load. "There you go. I will walk, but this may help."
Land Vehicles: 8
He seems dissatisfied with the result. "Well, it least I didn't make it worse."
Siggur opts to walk as well, still keeping an eye on the road side for herbs. Mostly he is concerned about being on the open road with a cart, a bigger target. Being pursued wasn't new. He and Urmdir had been on the run from their homelands for a while now. But in such a large group on such an open road. The situation made him uneasy.
"Thank you for your generosity. I am Siggur. I know a little medicine if you have physical ailments."Siggur looks the merchant up and down.
DM:
Medicine:12 checking the merchant for overt illness or injury.
The merchant looks around nervously and motions Siggur to sit beside him on the wagon. “Well... perhaps there is something you can help me with.” He whispers self-consciously. “You see, I have certain... digestive complications, if you know what I mean. I’m sure I can trust you to keep it confidential?”
Oh..." Saralyssa says as the old warforge indicated it's series. "Well, I am not an engineer, but a designer." She says with a sigh. "I'd suggest finding an engineer to take a look."
Walking along near the wagon, she keeps watching the collection of herbs, really thinking of how to make a herb scanner.
Seeker will walk along side the older warforged in a comfortable silence.
(when they stop for the night, between his smith’s tools, tinker’s tools, and his artisan’s blessing ability, would Seeker be able to fix his voice, and/or generally fix him up?)
With Saralyssa’s assistance Seeker locates the problem: a faulty vocalizer. It proves relatively simple to repair, and within an hour Tank has his voice back.
”My thanks, friends.” He rumbles. “It has been many months since I last spoke. I had almost forgotten how.”
Just as the sun begins to rise above you, its warmth evaporating the morning fog, you see a temporary checkpoint set up further down the road. A thin woman with a pinched face, a short dwarf with a mohawk and a tattoo of a bear across his chest, and an ogre in chains operate the checkpoint. The woman waits for you to approach impatiently, a roll of parchment clutched in her hand.
The wagon contains an odd assortment of merchandise from across the continent, from Aundairian garments and cheeses to trinkets and clocks from Zilargo. None of the contents of the wagon appear to be particularly valuable, but they will certainly fetch a respectable sum at the market.
Tank turns his rusty head to look Seeker in the eye. “I do not know of whom you speak. Tell me more about this god.”
Seeker will cheerfully walk beside the wagon.
"Lost your voice huh?" Saralyssa is instantly caught up with this and moves over to the old warforge. "Hmmm..." She says, drumming her fingers on her thigh as she thinks. "Could be the old style silver Span Vibrator they use to use..." She cocks her head at the warforge for a bit. "Any idea how old you are by chance? You look like a series IV, but it is hard to tell these days..."
Everyone seemed to be ok with the situation, 'Maybe I am being too paranoid' she thought to herself. She watched as Saralyssa got to work on the Warforged, magi tech was beyond Wisp's scope of knowledge; she envied Saralyssa a bit though, Warforged, air ships, all of that was much more concrete, logical, trying to decipher another persons intentions however was much more abstract. There was no guide to the mortal soul.
Deciding it best to go along with the rest of the group so as not spark any suspicion Wisp stepped out from behind the others, "I'd sure like a space in that cart, I don't take much room and my dogs are barkin something fierce"
Urmdir looks over the wagon and the supplies. He then begins moving things around, attempting to create as much space as possible while evenly distributing the load. "There you go. I will walk, but this may help."
Land Vehicles: 8
He seems dissatisfied with the result. "Well, it least I didn't make it worse."
The merchant climbs onto the wagon and lashes Th e reins. “Off we go!” He says, and the wagon begins to roll down the road.
Tank stares at Saralyssa uncertainly before tapping his left arm. “Series III” is inscribed in the metal, barely legible under a covering of rust.
Siggur opts to walk as well, still keeping an eye on the road side for herbs. Mostly he is concerned about being on the open road with a cart, a bigger target. Being pursued wasn't new. He and Urmdir had been on the run from their homelands for a while now. But in such a large group on such an open road. The situation made him uneasy.
"Thank you for your generosity. I am Siggur. I know a little medicine if you have physical ailments." Siggur looks the merchant up and down.
DM:
Medicine:12 checking the merchant for overt illness or injury.
The merchant looks around nervously and motions Siggur to sit beside him on the wagon. “Well... perhaps there is something you can help me with.” He whispers self-consciously. “You see, I have certain... digestive complications, if you know what I mean. I’m sure I can trust you to keep it confidential?”
Oh..." Saralyssa says as the old warforge indicated it's series. "Well, I am not an engineer, but a designer." She says with a sigh. "I'd suggest finding an engineer to take a look."
Walking along near the wagon, she keeps watching the collection of herbs, really thinking of how to make a herb scanner.
Seeker will walk along side the older warforged in a comfortable silence.
(when they stop for the night, between his smith’s tools, tinker’s tools, and his artisan’s blessing ability, would Seeker be able to fix his voice, and/or generally fix him up?)
(Seeker, you can make an Intelligence check, adding your proficiency bonus for your Tinker’s Tools.)
(Can Saralyssa give him advantage by giving the help action?)
14
With advantage 14
Intelligence is not his strong stat...
With Saralyssa’s assistance Seeker locates the problem: a faulty vocalizer. It proves relatively simple to repair, and within an hour Tank has his voice back.
”My thanks, friends.” He rumbles. “It has been many months since I last spoke. I had almost forgotten how.”
Just as the sun begins to rise above you, its warmth evaporating the morning fog, you see a temporary checkpoint set up further down the road. A thin woman with a pinched face, a short dwarf with a mohawk and a tattoo of a bear across his chest, and an ogre in chains operate the checkpoint. The woman waits for you to approach impatiently, a roll of parchment clutched in her hand.
Urmdir marches forward, ready to face whatever comes.
Saralyssa will try to get a peek at what the cargo the wagon is carrying, that the man and his old warforge was so worried about.
Perception: 20
Seekee will walk beside the older warforged, deep in conversation, "So have you accepted The Becoming God yet?"
The wagon contains an odd assortment of merchandise from across the continent, from Aundairian garments and cheeses to trinkets and clocks from Zilargo. None of the contents of the wagon appear to be particularly valuable, but they will certainly fetch a respectable sum at the market.
Tank turns his rusty head to look Seeker in the eye. “I do not know of whom you speak. Tell me more about this god.”
"Well that's a strange sort" Wisp said from the wagon where she'd been resting her feet, hinting toward the checkpoint ahead. "Is that an ogre?"
"Don't suppose they are looking for us do you?" Saralyssa asks, touching the pouch with the key in it briefly.