Starfall: Shattered Reality

AC: 15 | HP: 36/36 | Initiative: +8 | Passive Perception: 14 | Spell Slots: 3/3 (1st) "Yes, I thought someone in your field would appreciate its craftsmanship" Aedric smiles at Skrip as he fiddles with the bow-staff's mechanisms. ”Ah yes, is that who bought up your scrap stores too?” he gestures over to Eandri, reffering to her Genasi comment. "That string poking out there gets pulled down to string the bow, yeah you got it, retracts back into that cavity" Aedric very intentionally keeps the tinker's mind busy with the interesting mechanism, while pressing the Genasi issue ever so slightly. His relaxed demeanor hides the scrutiny he examines the Gnomes with, his eyes flicking between the two for any information pertinent to their mission.

Eandri Venos AC: 16 | HP: 32/32 | Initiative: +0 | Passive Perception: +13 | Pact Magic: 2/2 | Spell Slots: 3/3 (1st) Strange how naturally the two of them fell into a rhythm. Aedric providing the distraction, with Jarren adding to the mess, allowing her freedom to pursue her own objective. At least, that was her hope. It was possible that she was a fool, and that Skrip had been playing her since the moment she walked in. There was only one way to find out, and so she pressed the issue. "I've been back and forth all morning looking for scrap metal, and every... single... vendor..." She struck her gauntleted knuckles on the countertop with each word. "... has had the same result. Some variation of 'sorry Ser' and a tale of some mystery Genasi who just cleared them out that morning. It seems my foul luck continues then?" She wasn't quite sure how she was going to twist this into Skrip providing her with more information on the Fire Genasi in question, or either of their two companions, but it was the only lead they had. Hopefully, if there was any trace of a lie in his answer, the Stalker would sniff it out.

Jarren AC: 16 | HP: 41/41 | Initiative: +2 | Passive Perception: +12 | Battle Meditation: 3/3 As Skrap approaches Jarren he moved from reviewing the forge to the old man. As much as the younger man was the one doing the primary work, the space was defined by the older of the two. "I find that craftsmanship often speaks clearly enough, and though our crafts differ, they" Jarren gestures to he tools, goods and the general atmosphere around him "certainly speak well of you." Jarren says then noticed the older Gnome looking at the pommel , Dwarven Darksteel. Jarren drew the blade, he did not twist the blade ever so slightly as he would when facing a foe. The sound of leather and wood scraping on metal, a very ugly sound, often had enough of a deterring effect that battle could be avoided before blood was drawn. Jarren drew the blade in a clean manner devoid of aggression and twisted the blade to present the Gnome the sword pommel first. "It was payment for services rendered, it changed the balance, but already feels as if it was always a part of the blade." There was a chance of danger here, though the chance was minimal, the sword itself was nearly twice the size of the Gnome and perhaps half its weight. Even should the Gnome point the weapon against him, Jarren did not believe that the battle would be a balanced fight. The strength of a smith was not to be underestimated, but practical battle experience stood firmly on Jarren's side, and a pitched battle of three to two did not bode well should this not be what Jarren believed it to be. And besides, Jarren was as much a weapon as the steel that he carried.

Scrap Shack Aedric does not see any ledgers. This room is purely meant to be a workroom it seems with a few items sets out on "display" incase someone was interested in buying. "Well, some of our finer cuts of wood were taken, our furniture, lots of random junk metal we planned to smelt... and a good bit of Gold. You all shouldn't have too much trouble in town, though it can get rowdy right now I guess." Skrip explains as he recalls the incident. At the demonstration of Aedric's Bow-staff, Skrip takes it and repeats the motion as you did to familiarize himself with the weapon. "I have heard of design's similar to this but never actually seen one. How smooth and unique. It needs a little oil in the joints and a cloth to clean it every now and then. Thats a highly complex tool." Walking over to a table nearby, Skrip grabs a small bottle with a faded white label. He pours out a small amount onto the joints where he believes they need it. Skrap who has been watching this without shame in the fact that he's likely messed up the piece he was working on and needs to start again. He shoves a red hot rod of metal back into the coals of the Furnace's fire and Skrap approaches the group. His eye mainly catching Jarren and his demeanor compared to the rest of his party. "Your quiet arent'cha? Something catch yer eye or are ya daydreaming?" Skrap's jaw drops a little bit as he finish's and he stares intently at the Pommel of Jarrens Blade. "That there's old Dwarven Metal, it's Darksteel and it's Hard to come by. tougher than steel and highly conductive. I haven't seen that in years." The old geezer of a gnome doesn't ask or make any kind of motion, but he does look at Jarren and then the weapon a few times expectantly. Seems he wants to hold it. Skrip being too busy working on Aedric's Bow-staff and Skrap is inspecting and trying to eye Jarren as well as his blade. Eandri goes ignored for a moment though her comment is heard off-hand. "I'm sorry miss are you looking for someone?" Skrap asks seemingly not paying too much mind to his own question. Show this Skrip and Skrap Skrip: Skrap:

Nightmare summoners, yeah!

Eandri Venos AC: 16 | HP: 32/32 | Initiative: +0 | Passive Perception: +13 | Pact Magic: 2/2 | Spell Slots: 3/3 (1st) The fact that they were low on supplies was telling, a sign that they were on the right trail. "Out of stock?" This directed towards Aedric more than the two Gnomes. She noted the Blunderbuss, but chose to ignore it, a task made easier by the fact that it was a purely mundane implement. The Fellstaff slumbered in her grip, uninterested in those before it. "I swear, if that red headed bastard has cleared out this place too before we even got here? I might scream." The Faith of Empirin might have considered lying a fundamental sin, yet it seemed that both its soldiers were oddly proficient in it. It was a performance, and one that she was adept at. Her time under the Old Hound had taught her how weave deceptions, and weave it well. The best lie was the truth, both the easiest to speak and the easiest to keep track of. Falsehoods took effort to maintain, each thread potentially unraveling the next if it was dropped. The truth though? That was easy to remember, easy to repeat. It just had to be twisted a little, made to serve her. She told herself that it was made to serve the Empire, but wondered too if that was another expert twist.

Jarren AC: 16 | HP: 41/41 | Initiative: +2 | Passive Perception: +12 | Battle Meditation: 3/3 As they entered the Scrap Shack Jarren did not feel a sense of foreboding. And as the Gnomes made their presence known, they did not seem like the necromancer types, nor those with a chip on their shoulder beyond the one of working with family for a lifetime. It had been a lifetime since Jarren left home, even then he was dedicated to swordsmanship. A craft that he may continue to master for the rest of his life. Or so he hoped. Once there was nothing to learn or challenge to overcome he was not sure how he would continue. Perhaps taking an apprentice. But that was still years off, and perhaps never as the life of a traveling sword for hire did not tend to be a lengthy one. As the new Empirim approached the Gnomes and offered a distraction of their service Jarren witnessed how easily the lie came to the man. Jarren was not sure of him, Eandri treated him like a live snake, tame enough to travel with, but still at arms length. But then, how did she really view him? Though it has been a while since he had left her for dead, what kind of mark does that leave upon a persons mind, let alone her body, the way she favored the side from time to time was a constant reminder to Jarren that his actions have consequences, and that he needed to be more mindful for who he had direct his sword. Jarren took notice of the blunderbuss, These two were very particular about their security, had they wanted to dissuade the party they would have been able to do so with one shot. Though with such a weapon they would want to make it count. That or there was more to their security system that he was not able to see. The larger room settled him a bit more, the room was one for work, and their craft was of all kinds. They were craftsmen first and foremost, Jarren resisted the temptation to pick up a tool to witness the more crotchety ones reaction. This was not his play, he was a blade brought along for when trouble appears. He let the hunter lead this interrogation, keeping an eye on Eandri to see how she responds or plays into the unfolding scene.

AC: 15 | HP: 36/36 | Initiative: +8 | Passive Perception: 14 | Spell Slots: 3/3 (1st) Aedric takes stock of the scrap shack's interior, looking around to see if there's any signs of a business ledger or some record of past orders within the area. "I'm sorry to hear that, what did they take?" he replies to Skrip's mention of the recent theft. ”Should we be on our guard around town, or have the thieves been caught yet?” "I was wondering if you could take a look at my bow-staff here," Aedric's left hand holding his staff gives a sudden hard twist of his wrist and segments of the staff twist and move, locking into the curve of a longbow. "It's beginning to stick just a little when I switch it back and forth." It seemed like as good an excuse as anything to be coming into the shop, and besides, some extra maintenance never hurts.

Scrap Shack With the first word to respond to the source less voice being "Hunters." Eandri and Aedric hear a loud Ka-click! Silence remains as Eandri continues to explain their reasons for coming. The moments are awkward, and everything is quiet. A quick THUNK and not but a second later you all can see the door off to your right open just slightly as a voice from within shouts to you. "We're busy but come on in, workshops in the back." With that you are granted entry to the shop it seems. The front room being for work or some kind of minor storage space? Slowly approaching the door, it is only after a few steps that the party notice's a Large Blunderbuss resembling a miniature Cannon. This cannon is mounted to the wall and hidden behind the crates on your right...It was pointed at the door this entire time. It seems stationary and unmoving at the moment. The continuous sound of metal on metal rhythmically pounds itself into yours ears. Its an annoying yet soothing sound coming from the next room over. "Paps grab the Tongs and hold the Hammer already I have work to tend to." A younger voice pipes up as the sound slowly dissipates before increases in rythm. "Ya Brat better not tell me what to do again! I'll make better work than ya anyways." The older voice gives a rebuttal and shouts once more at the younger one. "YES, THEY ARE FINE! Ya shoulda been worried more 'bout the prototype ya brat." "Shut it GEEZER! If ya end up hurting her with that stupid explosive, then I'll plant my boot so far up yer A** ya will need a druid to untangle it!" A funny moment of silence before the older one speaks out one last time in confusion. "Yer what now?" With this little argument ongoing, It's easy to peak in and see 2 small gnomes working in a large room filled to the BRIM with forging equipment. There are a number of Blacksmiths tools, carpenters and woodcarvers kits, Leatherworkers tools, a few sets of tinkers tools scattered about on different tables. Some seem to be on display and others look to be in the midst of being used. A jewelers kit sits on a very clean table on the left side of the room right next to the door you enter from. The gnomes within this room are of two very separate ages and have a serious resemblance to each other. The young one wears thick and heavy leather gloves with a leather apron and goggles to help with the heat of a forge. It is hard to see his face, but the voice surely gives him away as it is easily recognizable. The second elder Gnome is quite the opposite in his attire for he wears this overalls and gloves. Other than that, he only adorns some goggle and the very bristled wild man's beard and thick bushy eyebrows that are darkened by grey and blackish soot. The younger gnome approaches as the door opens to the party. "We were robbed recently so we are bit on edge, try to play nice please. We are a bit low on stock unless you need materials or tools. If not, I can make anything you need." The young Gnome extends his short arm expecting a handshake from somebody forgetting the size difference for a moment but sticks with his guns and waits for a response. "THINK YA MEAN I"LL MAKE IT BRAT!" The elder gnome shouts at him and you all. The younger gnome picks up a wrench and throws it at the forge behind him missing his elder by a mile and it was obviously intentional. "I never introduced us...My name is Skrip. Grumpy bones over there is Skrap. So what can we do for ya?" Show this Skrip and Skrap Skrip: Skrap:

Are we hunting?

I tried doing an evil run with Dark Urge...I am not yet ready. I have a few more games in me before I go that rout.

the Dark urge is horrifying. that story is much more extreme than I thought it would be. I'm nearly at act three and wow it is just a murder fest without mercy. When you play a barbarian (bear heart)/druid (moon) and that dark urge transformation...I have hundreds of hp. I didn't think i would be that hard to kill. I might as well be a boss myself...the creators truly did go all in on the variety of ways you can play the game. I am now interested in making a monk/rogue or a fighter/paladin to see the level of damage I can get.

your not sure where the voice emanates from. The acoustics in the room are scrambling and make it a difficult to pinpoint any direct sound. What you can make out is that the voice belongs to an old man. the Popping sounds familiar but for the life of you…you can’t remember. Almost like its on the tip of your tongue. there is a seriously one-sided fight happening in the arena. With the level of injuries and amount of wounded, one would imagine that this should have been shut down but no. The crowd nearby still cheers as combat sounds off. The Clerics look exhausted and the Black robed physician does his best to show no signs of slowing. It is obvious to your keen eye of his tiredness and that he seems to be directing the more seriously injured be moved to a different location.

Eandri Venos AC: 16 | HP: 32/32 | Initiative: +0 | Passive Perception: +13 | Pact Magic: 2/2 | Spell Slots: 3/3 (1st) How easily she fell into the old habits, the old ways. She'd never been assigned her own Stalker before, but she'd traveled and trained with them on countless occasions. Always watching, always watching her. She shivered at the idea of it, at the ways in which they moved in the dark. Eyes searching for who knew what, some flaw in her, some corruption. They could be like ghosts when they wished, wraiths hidden among shadow. It wasn't magic, at least not as far as she understood it. The Stalkers just couldn't be seen by her eyes in the dark. It was the thing that made them such a threat, both to those that they hunted, and to herself. If he judged her fallen, he would come for her in the dark of night. She had a Stalker now, assigned only to her, and so she had him go first. That was the way things were, between Hound and Stalker. He was the one who watched, the one who tested the prey's dark magic first. He would be the first to face them, leaving her more room to maneuver. "Hunters." She called out in answer, for there was little she could do to hide the fact that their company were clearly mercenaries. Even with her cloak covering her insignia, they might well guess they were Empirin. "Looking to buy, with luck. Sick of walking from shop to shop only to be told they are sold out already." She didn't like to lie, it was a sin under the Faith, but one that Hounds were permitted to partake of.

Likely won’t have time for a post today, but I’ll roll a quick perception check here for the scrap shack.

I’m going to make my rolls here really quick here while I have a moment. ^^”

Scrap Shack There isn't any real way in other than the door from this side. The gate has no entrance either from your perspective here. If you were to try and walk the perimeter, then you would find that there is barbed wire in the rear of the property covering the wire fence. There is the feintest of metallic sounds; Metal on Metal, Pounding away at a slow tempo. When approached, the door itself is locked as well as the other door next to the gate. A clicking sound and then the sound of a door slamming shut is easily heard before a voice shouts. "It's Open!" Trying the front door again and it is indeed open. The room is fairly simple. There are two desks, one in the front of you at the far end of the wall and to the left against the wall. Their sits an array of blacksmithing and tinkering tools atop both desks. A small makeshift forge in the far back-left corner. There are some crates immediately to the right as well and a door. "Who are ya an' what do ye want?" The voice is heard again a bit muffled though shouted so it can be heard. It sounded as though it comes from a room to the right. The skrap shack Whoever decides to enter first, may i have a perception check please? Skrip & Skrap - Show this Skrip and Skrap Skrip: Skrap: City stroll During Nululia's exit and stroll to head to an inn. There are a few to choose from and she is directed to them easily. However she is most likely going to need to head through the center of town. She too hears small pops and explosions. The sound is familiar (history check if your curious). You pass by the ground of the recently improvised Fighting arena. With a few moments to glance, you see an immensely irregular number of patients. Many are wounded, some have holes in them, ripped off limbs and one person seems to be in mourning. out of all the white-robed clerics using their magic, there is a single, black-cloaked man with the beaked mask of a raven. He uses no magic but keeps up with the others. It is hard to see his methods. The option to investigate this is there but your option of leaving this to the capable hands of the towns medics is also an option. You're close to an inn that is told to be the most popular as far as fun goes known as The Familiar Fey and most likely the most crowded. There are two more and one is most well-known for its alcohol, called The Molen-Water Pub. The third gets such a bad reputation that it takes you at least ten minutes before you can get somebody to tell you the name and location. It is called Bottoms Up. the war-like arena you can make a history check to try and determine that popping sound. Also a perception or insight to determine the situation of the arena

AC: 15 | HP: 36/36 | Initiative: +8 | Passive Perception: 14 | Spell Slots: 3/3 (1st) Aedric nodded in response to the comments about the imp, silently filing away a note to investigate the mayor later if the opportunity arises. "Let’s ask around inside then," he says while following the others towards the entrance. ”Although it wouldn’t hurt to keep an eye out for a business ledger while we’re inside.”

Nululia Ashteross Level 4 Cleric of Peace, Accursed Acolyte AC: 18 | HP: 26/26 | Initiative: +4 | Passive Perception: 16 | Passive Investigation: 10 | Passive Insight: 16 | Cleric Spell Slots: 4/4 1st Level, 3/3 2nd Level | Channel Divinity: 1/1 Nululia takes her time to perform the ritual. As she carefully flips each card from the deck into a pattern, she divines the answer to her question from the Goddess. It turns out that heading to the Doctor was a terrible idea. Only Woe is to be found there. So, with that, she decides that perhaps, it would be better to start heading off to the next area. She was surprised to see an imp suddenly appear and take the woman in armor to...wherever they disappeared to. She was left blinking in confusion as she watched the group leave without so much of a blink of an eye to that imp. She guessed things were alright then? There was no cause for alarm or concern for their friend? With a shrug, she took her time and took in her surroundings and the people. The changeling's name was Opal, and two of the folks here seem to draw the ire of the rest of the tavern for some reason. With a quiet sigh through her nose, she decided to go find lodgings she could stay for the night, and prepare to continue her journey. She stands up and starts to leave the Mercenary Guild to find an inn. OOC: Meanwhile, Player is trying to find a reason for Nululia to join the party...😅

Jarren AC: 16 | HP: 41/41 | Initiative: +2 | Passive Perception: +12 | Battle Meditation: 3/3 "The Nightmare that we fought earlier had killed several before we were able to stop it. Should this Necromancer summon one or more others, many will die horribly." Jarren offered "As for the imp...it is something to be tolerated at this time." Jarren's mind continued to linger on the two goons who took note of him. He was not sure about their intent and was hesitant to let them out of his mind, but not to the detriment of the momentary danger. Lerisel would look after the small fey, they would be safe enough. Now he only had to worry about attacks upon himself, something that he thought would be very stupid in his present company. And as for the crier earlier. Even Jarren knew that it was dangerous to decry the Empire as he has heard of what happens to Heretics, and none of it was good. Perhaps they may need protection here soon, though Jarren was not sure how much his current companions would be able to help considering their affiliation.

Eandri Venos AC: 16 | HP: 32/32 | Initiative: +0 | Passive Perception: +13 | Pact Magic: 2/2 | Spell Slots: 3/3 (1st) Eandri startled when the Imp appeared, clearly on edge. Her opinion on the creature was immaterial in the face of what it represented, in the response it elicited from the Fellstaff. A tidal storm of alien emotions and flickering images played out in her mind every time she saw it, every time it appeared. She tried to push the images out, push them down. She knew they didn’t come from her, didn’t come from her own mind. They came from the power she bore, that which she held in her clenched fist. Had she taken a step towards the Fiend, or had the Fellstaff moved her. She couldn’t say. All she could do was battle the unknowable urges within her, try and suppress them, to impose calm and order in her mind. The Stalker was watching, after all. And just as quickly as it appeared, the thing vanished, taking Lerisel with it. Calm returned to her mind, the urge to devour subsiding, but replaced with anger that the creature would steal her companion. “The Lord Commander holds their contracts, binds them to his service.” She answered Aedric’s question, scowling at the thunderous noises as they walked. “It wasn’t my place to question the wisdom of such a decision.” But she was questioning it, making sure the Stalker knew of her discontent about the Lord Commander of the City binding Fiends into his service. Even an Imp. Was it not a Sacrilege against the Faith? If the Old Hound were here, would he have commanded them to take action against the Lord Commander? Did he have that sort of authority? She wondered if he’d have acted even if he hadn’t. “The situation here is complicated.” She added, once they were away. “Master Jarren, Knight Lerisel, myself and a few others stumbled upon a horror, a sin against the Faith and the Empire. The are known as Nightmares, creatures of shadow conjured into this world by Fell magics. We fought the thing, and we were victorious. However, it could not have come here without help, there had to have been a summoner. The Lord Commander rewarded us for our service, but when we were dismissed Mayor Kondoc Kindizok approached us as asked that we seek the very same. The Mayor provided us with information, though he didn’t explain the source, stating that he had reason to believe there was a Necromancer operating on the North end of town who was responsible for the Summoning.” In truth, they’d been told very little as to why. “The Lord Mayor didn’t have a name, but he knew that the Necromancer and their allies had been buying up large quantities of wood and metal scrap. Hence, the Scrap Shack. If we find no leads there, we will try the store known as Rusty’s Board and look for the same. We are looking for three individuals who have been purchasing these things. A Fire Genasi with flaming hair and red skin, a cloaked figure with an injured arm, and a young pyromancer with dark hair. We suspect the last two are human, but don’t know for sure.” Not wanting to trespass, even if this, she looked for a gate or other manner of accessing the side entrance that wouldn’t involve leaping the fence.

Holy shit I missed a post. I will be correcting that mistake today.

AC: 15 | HP: 36/36 | Initiative: +8 | Passive Perception: 14 | Spell Slots: 3/3 (1st) "Well that was, err, unusual. Have you had run-ins with that little fiend before?” Aedric gestures vaguely, refering to Tep. It didn't seem to be summoned by any of his knew acquaintances, but such strange occurrences more than justifies Aedric's presence here. "Anyways, back to the task at hand. Should we ask around inside about our suspect, or poke around the yard ourselves for anything of note? I'm still getting caught up to speed with the details of the mission, so feel free to take the lead, and I'll be here to help if my talents are of use," he says to Eandri and Jarren while absent-mindedly strumming his fingers on his fellstaff.

I really enjoy that they are not shoehorning you into one specific story, that the grand arch is similar, the individual playthrough feels unique each time.

Nice, I’m on my first playthrough, but pretty far into act 3 with my gith wizard. Enjoying the race choice with me feeling extra invested in the gith storyline.