One Does Not Simply Walk Into More Doors, Part 1

Log Info

• Title: One Does Not Simply Walk Into More Doors
• Emitter: Whirlpool
• Characters: Jinks,Vaera,Gaerth,Lysos,Lyme
• Place: Explorer's Guild, Skystation Alexandria, Dragonier
• Time: Tuesday, September 7, 2021, 9:30 PM
• Summary: Griva Brassbringer is putting more plans into motion! This time, she is looking for help from the explorer's guild and associates, to explore the lands of Dragonier. An airship has been chartered, and the group briefed on what to expect. They are looking for an acquaintance of Griva named Lotch Twinsday, who lives on the border. The border to a wight infested, seemingly evil dragon controlled land. The group takes time to purchase provisions and prepare, before boarding their chartered airship, which happens to be crewed almost entirely by gnomes. The trip is uneventful save for a harsh storm, and they touch down after several days travel, in the lands of the fallen nation. Leadership is discussed, but they decide to focus on finding where to go as they figure it out. The less time spent on the ground, the better.

Her name is Griva Brassbringer and she's well known within the city for her leadership of the so-called Resurrectionists, a motley group associated with Rune that seek the restoration of the fallen God of Magic known as Animus.

And she needs your help.

"Hello," she says, cheerfully, waving at the lot of you as you assemble within the conference room of the Guild of Explorers. "I've got a few things to go over and then we can get started."

It never hurts to get in good with an employer. It really doesn't. Bonuses are a thing, after all. So Jinks is wearing the little Animus-symbol pin he'd snatched from the Q&A&T. But then the understated little thing adorning the straight collar of his stylish leather doublet is probably easy to miss with more eye-catching jewels glittering about the gnome's tiny person; the gold coyote's head brooch with a gemmed emerald eye on his breast is anything but subtle. The dandy bard smells strongly of lavender and other complimenting, floral scents; he's fresh from the baths. His hair is pulled back and held in place by a crimson ribbon, his facial hair trimmed gneatly. Jinks has his bow strapped to his back, his brilliant mithral rapier at his hip, and his arrow quivers rattle quietly at the small of his back when he walks. He even has an adorable little pack of supplies that looks fresh off the rack slung over one shoulder as he enters. "So. I heard a joke in the Tarrace; do you think the shards of Animus are actual pieces of the god? If so, I think the nose piece would be the biggest. Because Animus... knows so much." The gnome sniffs and licks at the corner of his mouth. "It made me smile but poor Sabina had quite the salad to sweep from the stage after people were done throwing produce."

It was a job, and a listing. She wasn't sure what they were expected to do, what they could do, but she would listen at the very least,and like most, she had great respect for the divine dragons. If there was something to be done, she could do so, most likely. So she joined the growing group at the guild of explorers, standing close to the door as a somewhat imposing figure.

"Go over everything you can, please." She states, waving back.

Having finally faced at least some of the fallout from the shard hunting quests, Lysos has managed to work up the nerve to at least dip her toes into it... which is what brought her to the guild this day, answering Griva's call for another group of would-be heroes. Or at least would-be do-righters. Or at least ne'er-do-wells being directed towards something productive. She's found herself a seat on a bench, eyes on the increasingly famous dwarf woman while she fiddles with the laces on one of her gloves. Eyes mostly on Griva. The gleaming stones upon the gnome's person are distracting.

Gaereth was still getting used to Alexandria City, having just arrived only a few days ago. Growing up in Bryn Myrdrion, he didn't have the glassy-eyed, slack-jawed look of most newcominers to the city; instead he just noticed the similarities and differences between the two in a silent contemplation and even appreciation. Not being over-awed by the spectacle may have made an impression on the leadership of the Sunblades here, which would explained why they sent the neophyte paladin to this meeting to join the quest. For the most part, Gaeerth stayed in the background, listening to the explantions of the job and occsionally stroking the beard on his chin. All the while, remaingin passive. Even the joke from the gnome gets only a slight eye-roll.

Griva Brassbringer is a stocky dwarven woman (aren't they all?) who's greying hair and the lines around her eyes speak of someone heading into relative middle age.

She leans back, takes a swig from a flask and then explains: "So, as some of you know, the Resurrectionists, in working with the city, are preparing for a rite to pacify an Animusite relic that's ... dangerous, to put it mildly. In doing so, there is a specific someone whose help we're going to need, but ah ... he's ... not always receptive to guests from Rune, so we're asking you to go on our behalf. The hope is that you'll be able to get through to him a bit more easily. Just tell him that I'm calling in my debt when reach his abode and that you're adventurers from Alexandria. He'll be more willign to talk to you on the account of the latter than me on the former, but under no circumstances are you to hide or otherwise shade the truth with regards to the reason for your visit. As for where you're going to be going, I'll be arranging an airship to the locale for you."

Lysos makes a far more expressive face at Jinks's joke, going so far as to stick her tongue out. Griva diving into the details of the expedition keep her from providing comment, however... Lysos shuts her mouth and returns her attention to the Ressurectionist. "Ahhh. Well. What could possibly go wrong with revealing we're there on behalf of someone he apparently takes issue with?"

"Better to be turned down, than have a hidden betrayal discovered later."

The sith-makar chuffs and shakes her head. "I do not know what nose size has to do with mental capacity, perhaps I am missing something, or that is why the food was thrown. Still a bit of a waste."

"Where exactly is this airship going, what type, and how long will the journey be? I would like to know how long to prepare for."

"One of the comedy colleges has an unhealthy obsession with wordplay." Jinks asides to Vaera, waving off the joke. "A student group that calls themselves Pundits. They had this whole thing when Alexandria fell out of time about how the city won't be missed. Mist." He catches himself before the tangent completely derails the meeting and waves a hand subtly through the air. "We can talk about it on the ship if it's of interest to you."

"Simple enough," He clears his throat and gets back on task, "we get a few drinks in the fellow first. Then some Point diplomacy." Jinks suggests, turning to look at each of the tallmen in the room, then back to Griva as he climbs onto a stool sized for the smaller folk. "Any ideas what sort of spirits haunt his sobriety? A little social lubrication and we won't need to dissimulate OR obfuscate; not that I'm tall enough to cast a shadow over the Truth."

When Jinks speaks, Griva sinks into her chair. There is a look of pain that matches that which one experienced at the loss of a God.

"And who are we meeting with?" Gaereth adds to Vaera's line of questions in his barritone voice. If this was to be a diplomatic mission that required openness and truth, he could see why the Sunblades sent him. "As much information as you can provide us with about the person we will be trying to persuade, as well as the relevant history between you two, can only help us in our mission. Prevent us from accidentally bringing up sore topics that could antagonize him further."

"Weeellll.. if he turns us into toads or something because he REALLY doesn't like these folks from Rune," Lysos points out, "I'd argue that better... might be a matter of perspective." Then she shrugs. "Anyways, wasn't arguing for a deception... just pointing out that this sounds like a good plotline for a cautionary tale, is all."

"A former cleric of Animus and diviner," remarks Griva in answer to Gaerth's question. In fairness, it was a piece of information she was bound to share sooner or later.

"His name is Lotch Twinsday. There's no specific history between him and myself, though he should recognize my name from our days in the Parliament of the Magi together," she says, thoughtfully. "He's a good fellow, but he got a bit ... difficult when it came to the politics. Uncompromising. That can be an asset except for when you're actually trying to do anything useful. Still, his talents as a diviner were excellent but one could never be sure if he saw the future or just saw it through his own particular biases which made 'doing anything' difficult to hear. Still, we have need of someone like him if we're going to do this rite. A diviner will be particularly important, especially one as silled as Lotch is. Unfortunately, he makes his home along the border with Dragonier," oh no, "so you'll be heading into dangerous territory." A look towards Lysos, "You, in particular, will be of interest to him, given your reputation for misfortune."

At Griva's revelation, Lysos mutters, "Lucky me..."

"I will not let him turn you into a toad." She seems to reassure, though it was hard to tell when they sounded so monotone and lacked much expression. But they were tall and large enough it could be easy to believe them.

"So, Rune, and you may have worked together at some point. And what exactly are we requesting?"

She seems to think, nodding a bit to the gnome. "A city dissapearing into time is curious. I would hear more if there is time."

"A diviner, mm. Port?" Jinks smooths at his goatee in thought as he attempts to remember the specialist circles' predilections. Then frowning as he considers traditions varying between nations. "I'm guessing the Resurrectionists want Twinsday to come back with us to Alexandria and make sure this rite is done ri-- correctly." He grimaces as he barely sidesteps the insidiousness of the Pundit's influence. He never should've brought them up.

"... it was certainly something. And offered many of us our first introductions to the plasticity of of Time." He grins a lopsided grin.

Again, Gaerth simply listens to the conversation brought up by the others, occasionally nodding along. Eventually, thouh, he speaks up to move the main point along. "When are we expected to depart on this mission?"

Lyme slips in the back, pack packed. He's been quiet, though -- so who knows how much he's heard so far.

Lysos lifts her nose as if to sniff at Vaera's suggestion... but then, looking at the Sith Makar, she's reminded about just how big she is.. so she settles for a brief, shallow bob of her chin instead. "Or they need him to find someone. Or something," Lysos suggests.

"As soon as you're ready," Griva answers Gaerth, "You'll probably want to take some anti-undead precautions. Dragonier remains rife with wights on account of the whole 'Heth' issue."

She's undertating things fairly deliberately, but then, everyone knows Dragonier is one of the worst places on the face oF Gaea right now. TAnd that's where you're going.

Lucky you.

Lyme doesn't pale -- he can't, really, and that's a blessing. "Dragonier."

Lysos's lips curl into a bit of a half-grin. "Now there's a term just begging for endless wordplay," she remarks. "But I imagine it's been done to death already." Ahem. She pats her knees through her skirt, then slips off of the bench and straightens out. "Alright. So.. are we meeting at the airship in half a bell or so?"

GAME: Vaera rolls knowledge/geography +2: (16)+5+2: 23

GAME: Jinks rolls Knowledge/Religion: (3)+9: 12

GAME: Gaerth rolls knowledge/religion: (17)+5: 22

With the briefing winding down, Gaerth nods and makes ready to leave. "I'll be at the Temple of Daeus before we leave. If anyone wants more Holy Water for us to take on this mission."

"Dragonier. May those who fell find peace in the shade underneath the death singing dragon's wings." Vaera notes, bowing her head slightly. "Flying an airship through there sounds dangerous, I am assuming we are landing nearby and continuing on foot to where they live?"

Vaera seems to blink, and shake her head, before she stands straight again. "I am surprised they still live there, with the wights roaming the land. We should all prepare accordingly. Bring healing, and supplies for any potential diseases. And I know not if necessary, but it could not hurt to bring some form of silvered weaponry, arrows, or things of that sort."

"Ah. Well.. once you get to know me better," Lysos remarks to Vaera, "You'll understand why it's safer that I don't handle sharp objects." She casts a bit of a scowling look Griva's way at that, then shudders, pressing her eyes closed tight for a moment. Then she sucks in a deep breath, "I need to stop at a tavern for... supplies... first. But I'll be at the airship on time." And then she steps past Lyme to exit the room and building.

Lyme shakes his head. "Right." He sighs. "Meet you all at the airship."

"You can't go shopping for alcohol without me," Jinks calls after Lysos, mildly offended that the long-legged tallman would even think to refuse the helpful input of such a practiced connoisseur. He spins on a heel, waving as he quits the conference room. "Jinks, by the way. See you on the ship."

Now that's a weird gnome name. What ever happened to the classics. Like 'Celestabellebethabelle' and 'Mikdanterwompitous?'

5?"

... it isn't long before you're shuffled off to the airship station of Alexandria, a truly busy place if there ever was one. The great crafts take to the sky, some with thrumming mana-engine, sometimes belching fire, sometimes simply gliding aloft on silent wings in contrast to the louder ones. The variety is fascinating to observe and no two are alike.

Your's has a great balloon sitting atop it and it is full of the worst thing imaginable.

.. worst thing next to Jinks, anyway. Gnomes. This is why it's the worst thing next to Jinks.

Some of the air crew wave at you, welcoming you aboard with cheerful countenances and colorful uniforms. That is, to say, until they're finally informed where they're going by Griva Brassbringer. All that cheer goes away, but they salute and seem ready to do their duty anyway.

People. Real, actual, honest-to-Gods people. Jinks actually skips into a hop and pumps one fist into the air. There might be wights ungentrifying the lands formerly known as Dragonier at the end of the tunnel but at least the train going through it isn't piloted by -goblins-. With any luck he can catch up on the latest news from Clockwork Point. He'd gone shopping with Lysos for liquors and then past Coyote's house for a scribbled joke or two. Now he abandons the others to their horror and sense of impending doom as he throws his arms wide and greets various members of the crew in his native tongue.

Lysos should probably hide the liquor well or it might all disappear on the trip out.

Vaera gathered her supplies, some extra food, and made a few people aware of her departure. It was then that she moved to and up the airstation, where she had explored a few times. Hopefully it would not be a ship with an easily destroyed buoyancy mechanism-

She looks to the ship, and chuffs. It was still an airship, and would have to do. She greets the crew as cordially as possible for a makari, before she finds a railing to lean over.

Gaereth boards the airship, once he arrives. His white tabbard is spotless and rests over his half-plate armor, polished to a high gleam. He egages in a bit of small talk with the crew, seemingy unconcerned about the sheer amount of gnomes gathered in one place, much less responsible for the safety of thir journey. In the end, before the airship takes off, the young paladin takes a seat on a bench, leaving space for any who care to sit with him.

Lysos had slowed for Jinks when she realized he had a similar plan to hers.. and thus she arrives at the same time as him. Unlike him, however, her expression is all but joyous... less because of the crew, though, and more because of the... balloon. She stares at it for several heartbeats, then looks plaintively at some of the other airships in dock, as if this is some big mistake. Or joke. But no. So she slowly unshoulders string of wineskins, several joined together by a length of cord, and frees one of them. Then she pulls open the stopper, draws from it longer than a proper lady should... then replaces it. Then she takes a deep breath, and with great resolution joins Vaera, Gaereth and the gnomes upon the 'airship'. And while she doesn't hide the liquor, she certainly keeps it clutched closely to her body.

Flash cut to the smouldering wreckage of an airship with a deflted balloon sagging into a swamp.

Okay, not really.

Take off is painless. Spending time with gnomes? Painless, depending on who you ask.

Going toDragonier? Probably not especially painless. Still, you find ways to kill time and wait and wait and wait. There's a brief storm yoiu have to pass throiugh, giving you some un-fun turbulence to test your stomachs against, but aside from that... it's going well.

In fact, the gnomes indicate, after about forty-seven hours in flight, that you're nearing the locale in question. The airships are fast. That's why one risks using them.

Between his white hair, solid-black eyes, and ostentatiosu dress it's surprising that Jinks can disappear so utterly into the crew of his far more colorful brethren, but he does. It turns out the bard counts a cap that reads 'airman' among the many hats he's worn and any chance to be among his own People is a welcome one. Either that or his doppleganger is about tying rigging, hauling crates, or shoveling a bit of coal to help out and build a bit of comraderie. And two Jinks might actually be scarier than that Heth fellow people keep talking about.

Still, he's not the hardest of workers under any circumstance and finding him during a break to spin yarns about the mists and Alexandria's disappearance isn't hard. His tenor voice carries through the decks when he's working and when he's playing. When you can't hear him he's probably found someone to keep a quieter company with-- and nobody wants to witness that!

So here we are, closing in on Dragonier and Jinks is coming up from belowdecks looking like he's had an honest day's work. It's enough to make Animus' clergy go blind. Again. He drops his pack, weapons, and armored coat to the deck and takes a moment to hum one of the simplest pieces of the Hymn, cleaning his hands with a very basic manipulation of the weave.

"Aether-powered constructs are becoming high fashion for personal conveyance at the Point. Over mana engines. Can you believe that?" His honest smile and relaxed mood is decidedly off-putting.

Vaera was a quiet passenger, not speaking much, but keeping an eye on everyone coming and going, mostly watching across the railings. Her bow was strung, and she was careful to watch. Especially the closer they got to Dragonier. They slept on the deck too, for little time. Any work that was done was mostly cooking food, mostly meat. She had plenty to share with the others. She watched Lysos too at times, perhaps out of concern for the worried seeming woman.

Lyme is pretty wide-eyed, keeping close to the centreline and people (gnome) watching the whole time. He enjoys the industriousness of the crew, but learns not to ask questions. Just smile and nod.

For the durration of the flight to Dragonier, Gaerth mainly kept to himself. He's pleasant eugh in actual conversation, he just doesn't go outof his way to seek it out. As the airship lands, he does seek out and gives the captin and various crew members his thanks for the safe journey, then hoists up his backpack on his shoulders, straps his shield to his arm, and joins the rest of his companions on the ground. As they prepare to continue the journey, Gaerth brings up a certain subject that hasn't been broached yet. "Perhaps before we journey further into hostile territory, we should establish who is in charge of the mission?" His tone doesn't imply any desire to be in charge; he just wants a leader selected to cut down on any chaos that the group might encounter.

Lysos stays well away from the rigging, and anything else that looks more than passingly important. As Griva suggested, perhaps even understated, there's a bit of an aura of misfortune that follows her. The one time she ventured near the railings... not even all the way to them, just near! she nearly went over, a forgotten bucket having tipped and rolled from the other side of the deck to get tangled up in her feet. She also managed to lose her cloak at some point during the storm.

The tsuran takes this all in stride, however... for all the world looking like it's just another day in the life of Lysos. That doesn't make her sit any easier regarding the nature of the airship, however... but generous imbibing of what she has called her 'undead unguent' has at least fortified her as strongly against that as she claims it will help against the undead. And should she be approached, she's more than ready to share her tales of her last trip to Dragonier. The wights. The flesh beast. The dragon. Yes, she has tales to tell. None of which likely lessened the red Sith's possible concern for her.

In regards to the Sunguard's query about party leadership, all Lysos does is put her finger to her nose in something of a 'not it' gesture.

Vaera seems to consider the question. "I know these lands little, but for our travel, I will do my best to keep us on a safe path. Whether that constitutes leading or not, I am uncertain." She answers, checking over her gear once more.

"It's always the armored tallmen that want a clear pecking order," Jinks observes with a little laugh, the last of the grime falling away from his hands and forearms as little pink sparkles that wink out almost immediately. He rolls down the sleeves of his silken shirt and then grabs and shrugs into his studded doublet. "Her objections aside, the gypsy tallman is the obvious choice. I haven't been to Dragonier since it fell. It's been fifteen years, in fact, and our employer has already indicated that our contact would be interested in whatever malign twists of fate hovers about her person."

He reaches into the pack and collects his crimson circlet, donning it and adjusting the onyx stone set into it at a third-eye position. Then out comes a brothel's worth of jewelry to be set, pinned, clasps, and pierced about his person. "But I've no strong objection to any other option." He also looks the type to go rogue at a moment's notice, too.

"Usually because the armored tallmen think they should be in charge," Gaerth replies to Jinks with a solft grin. "But not in this case. I would propose Lysos, given her experience with this land. But she seems reluctant. I have no objections to Vaera leading us. She seems skilled in the arts of the wilderness and would be the one to gude us through the land, at any rate." He looks at the red sith-makar and nods to her. "If you wish, I will follow where you lead."

Regardless of who's going to be in charge amongst the adventuring group, the airship sets itself down along the ground near a rugged looking series of forested hills. According to the map and information Griva did leave you, the home is in the forest. You just need to find the door.

Lyme shakes his head, and pats his belt, checking his extra vials. "Or, you know, we could discuss such things." He shrugs a little, and looks out over the wilderness. "This is bound to be unpleasant enough without borrowing trouble."

"If Lysos has experience, that is just as valuable. I will trust her advice and judgement." Vaera seems to agree. "I would be wary of staying on the ground with the airship. We will need to return, but the forests may, or are, dangerous."

The red makari adjusts a few more things as she steps off, getting her bearings. "Lyme, what say you? We can discuss things, but the less time we linger, the better."

Lyme pats his morningstar, as well, self-soothing. "I think insisting on a singular leader probably doesn't work. We'll have our moments, I think. Let's go."

"We don't have to let it linger," Jinks agrees, looking out over the forests. "Zombies, zombies, zombies..." he mutters with a sigh. He tests the release of his basket-hilted rapier's scabbard and then hops down to the earth, steadying his quivers. He makes sure he has his scroll pouches closest to the front of his belt and then starts to follow those more wildernessly adept.

"We can discuss this on the way, definately," Gareth agrees, double checkinghis shield and his sword. "And my appologies to you, Lyme. I did not mean to overlook you as a poential leader for the party. If I have offended you, it is my sincere regret tp have done so." And he lowers his head to make amends. Other than that Gaerth is all ready to move forward into the woods.

Lyme absently palms some cranberries out of his ration pack, and pops them into his mouth. Sadly, they don't survive. He just gives Gaerth a look, "In your head, in your head." He chews thoughtfully for a moment. "It's fine."

GAME: Jinks rolls Survival: (3)+0: 3