IC: After the Last War - an Eberron Story

Time of Day: dusk to early evening, around 7pm.
Weather: Clear, with few clouds directly over the moon. There is a low lying mist at this level, which would be cloud cover for the lower levels of the plateau.
Illumination: Both the streets and interior of the gallery are brightly lit by magical light. The only areas of shadow seem to have specifically been allowed to exist, so as the give the artworks near them an even brighter radiance than was provided by the spotlights over them.

Sharn is a vibrant city full of life and action. It is the cultural center of Breland, and quite possibly the world. Only here can you sample cuisine from Reidra, buy imported crafts from the barbarians of Argosian, buy religious trinkets from vendors from Aerenal, and buy art made by the newest additions to the free population of Sharn, the Warforged. Several prominent demi-human artists of all sorts have begun sponsoring warforged of all sorts, but none as flamboyantly or as passionately, as Da'ren the Painter, an elven artist with a penchant for helping struggling artists of all races, but most recently warforged,

The reception is being held at a gallery in the University District of the Upper Menthis Plateau. It is a gallery normally devoted to fine art, as well as ancient antiquities of all sorts, but especially those of Elven or Goblinoid origin. Three of Da'ren's artists served with several goblin mercenary bands from Darguun and began a retrospective of their time in the military serving with goblins and exploring both the realities and the stereotypes associated with goblins, hobgoblins, and bugbears. Nightmarish horse creatures terrorize goblin innocents, massive dogs the size of elephants savage and destroy whole villages in other works. Tasteful nudes of hobgoblin celebrities and public figures are also included, both male and female. Also included are renditions of Sharn from its Goblinoid days, as well as striking pieces of the ruins of goblin civilizations still able to be accessed in the depths of Sharn itself. All in all it is a fresh look at goblinoid races from the eyes of a trio of impartial observers. How much one enjoys the subject is a matter of personal taste.

To an eye not trained in the nuances of art, much of the art here seems to be quite primitive. All but a few pieces that is. Irik seems to be working towards a more classical style with near lifelike qualities to his painting. All of the portraits and nudes are his. The other two, however, are much more prolific, and outnumber his works four to one. There are over 20 paintings here, and the artists seem eager to discuss them. The gallery the reception is in covers a large space 100 feet across in either direction, with an expansive stained glass window over the entrances that spans the north wall. It depicts some giant battle and is supposedly a recreation of a mural found in Xen'drik on an ancient temple.

Still, there are other reasons to go to these exhibitions. First, of course, is that of the drinking and eating. Massive buffets filled with all kinds of foods to fit all kinds of palates. Spicy and earthy hobgoblin cuisine, light and surprisingly sharp foods from Aerenal, hearty, but flavorful cheeses from Audair and Zilargo, dark beers from Thrane and northern Breland, and even a few delicacies from Reidra and Xen'drik. Fine liquors and heady mixed drinks of all sorts were available, kept cool or warm, as needed by small magical warmers and coolers.

Of course the other primary reason to go, aside from the art or the refreshments, was the company. People from all of the houses tend to make at least an appearance, as do folks from all the embassies and major families within Sharn itself.

Adriana, Pasha, and Izora arrive together. Whether close friend or just favored acquaintance, the three are hard to find too far apart in situations like this. The appearance of a warforged (Cogsowrth) is uncommon, but not out of place. Da'ren, for his part is playing the gracious host, introducing his benefactors and benefactees. The artists, Alik (Hobgoblin for Chaos), Irik (Hobgoblin for Law), and Al'Jol (Hobgoblin for Storm), have all take goblin names instead of names in the common tongue. Each of them is clustered around a Hobgoblin brute referred to as Margaash. Near him, in the livery of a Deneith mercenary uniform, is a relatively tall human looking man (Hudwin), acting as a bodyguard for the leader of the Blackbloods (Ja'khor) mercenary brand which does quite a bit of business with House Deneith, and usually lets them handle security just to avoid trouble with the watch. Off to the side, hired as security for Da'ren, is a dour looking dwarf (Skjoldur). His job is not to maintain the security of the elf, per se, but rather of all of the "priceless art" that is here.

Others present include about a dozen other demi-humans of all sorts. Some from the dragonmarked houses, others from local government, or local ruling families. All sorts, really.

JIC: 8, 15, 17

Margaash seems to be enjoying himself, admiring a few of the nudes of hobgoblin singers and actresses of some repute. One in particular catches his eye: (Hobgoblin female, moderate strength, high charisma, quite comely; standing in a pose with a sword. Her stance, her arms and the sword, a traditional hobgoblin weapon, cover the most egregious of things but leave very little to the imagination) "I've got to say Irik, you caught her skin tone perfectly. I've met her you know? Last month my crew and I handled her security on a trip to the capital of Breland for a recital. Best job I've ever had really." He looks over to Hudwin. "You do know that no one's going to mess with me here, right? Go relax, look over the art, get yourself something to eat. Live a little! You won't have easy assignments like this all the time. If we run into any problems, it will be after we leave."

JIC 6, 11, 12

Pasha stands just inside the entrance to the gallery, along with Adriana and Izora. She has known Adriana a long time and is comfortable in her company. She had met Izora more recently, since starting to work as a courier for her House. Carrying financial documents and valuables around Sharn had certainly expanded her social network.

Pasha tugs at her cream surcoat, trying to get the lovely garment to obscure the studded leather armor she wears underneath. She smiles as she remembers Adriana's withering look at her appearance. But I don't feel right without my armor. I feel … naked. Besides, you never know what could happen. Especially when people start drinking.

Pasha scans over the crowd, noticing the groups admiring the art, those admiring the artists, and those admiring the refreshments. She also notices that Da'ren the Painter is completely in his element, exclaiming over each guest in greeting, and gushing copious praise upon his students. She bites her tongue to keep from laughing at the look of complete disgust on Skjoldur's face. Poor Grumpy. Could there be a worse assignment for you? Her eyes travel to the artists clustered near the hobgoblin brute. "So, Adri, I bet I know where you're going first. Just remember to give them time to answer the first question before asking another." She smiles good-naturedly at her friend. "I think I have some parchment tucked in here somewhere if you need it…"

JIC: 16, 9, 8

Cogsworth headed straight to the north end of the gallery and gazed up. He had originally been skeptical about attending, but was now glad he had. He addressed a delicate looking half-elf in a powder blue dress as she started to pass him by.
"Did you know that this window was re-cast in 988?"
He glanced back toward the stained glass and continued, "It was a joint effort by the Dwarven artisan Togar Tordannon and the Elven glass maker Vadania Amakiir." After a moment's thought, he added, "The window originally depicted a Brelish war band, but was replaced by the current mural after a confused Pteranodon got loose in the lower districts and flew through it."
Cogsworth looked back down in time to see the blue flurry of the half-elf's dress as she fled back toward the crowd. He glanced over and saw a young human who had walked up and was staring at him quizzically.
Cogsworth continued, "Details on the mural they recreated were documented in the Korranburg Chronicle: 14, Nymm 984, after The Bright Spear adventuring company brought back drawings from Xen'drik."
The young man cocked his head and asked, "Are you part of the exhibition?" He wore one of those floppy hats that seemed to be one of the more prevalent fashions.
"Not in the least, " replied Cogsworth, staring at the hat. "I can see why you might make that mistake, what with me being a warforged, but I never really cared much for painting."
Cogsworth looked back up at the window.
"They had to put it down, you know."
"What?"
"The Pteranodon."
"The Pteranodon?"
"Yes." said Cogsworth, turning back to the hat. "It was a poor, piteous mess after crashing through that window."
"Huh?"
"Very sad really."
"Very strange," mumbled the young man as he walked off.
Cogsworth stared after him, watching the floppy hat bob and shake as he retreated.
Hmm. I wonder if I should get myself one of those.

Knowledge (local): 1d20=14+8-22 (to describe the stained glass), or
Knowledge (history): 1d20=14+5=19 (to describe the stained glass)

JIC 2, 8, 13

The elven painter looks over the crowd that has come to see the exhibit. What a wonderful crowd. And my boys seem to have done very well with the art. He wanders about among the crowd, greeting everyone he knows by name, and introducing himself to those he does not.

He notices a delicate looking half-elf in a powder blue dress hurrying away from the Stained glass exibit. "My dear Issomil, what seems to be the problem?".

Issomil replies "That warforged over there."
Da'ren looks at Cogsworth. "Did he cause a problem?"
"He was talking about... historical things. I hate historical things."
"But, darling, the room is entirely filled with historical things, but they are not doing anything", he pauses, "dangerous at the moment. Why don't you go to the buffet and get one of those strawberry tarts you love so much. I had them made especially for you."

Issomil brightens. "Thank you, Da'ren. You are always so considerate." She flounces away toward the strawberry tarts.

Da'ren walks over to the warforged by the stained glass. "Cogsworth, did you have to startle poor Issomil like that again? You know that she cannot stand history." he says in a jovial tone.

JIC: 20, 4, 4

TheMaskedFerret wrote:

Da'ren walks over to the warforged by the stained glass. "Cogsworth, did you have to startle poor Issomil like that again? You know that she cannot stand history." he says in a jovial tone.

Cogsworth glanced back in the direction the half-elf had retreated, "Issomil? Was that her name?"
Cogsworth reached up and scratched his head. "I wasn't sure we'd met. They all look alike."

Cogworth shrugged, adjusting the bundle across his back, then pointed back up toward the window, "Isn't that craftsmanship, great? An ideal blend of dwarven and elven manufacture. It even manages to glow in the moonlight. I can only imagine how it looks during the day."

"Oh, " Cogsworth shakes himself and turns back toward Da'ren. "Thank you for the invitation. I'm still not entirely sure how you found my new flat over in Den'iyas. I just moved in three days ago."

Hundwin isn't exactly nervous around so many people, but he isn't exactly comfortable either. His employer has dismissed him for the moment. Big Dog, Hundwin's loyal wolf companion, stands watch over Margaash's conveyance. So, no one will likely be able to tamper with it without crossing the massive canine guarding it.

"Are you enjoying the art?"

The speaker is a young shifter woman dressed in the fashion of this city, Sharn, but she has her hair braided with feathers and beads that speak to the Green Bough Tribe of the Eldeen Reaches. Hundwin nods his head to acknowledge that she has spoken to him.

"I find the art... interesting..."

"Yet you spend more of your time looking at the people than at the art," observed the woman.

Hundwin nods. "Occupational hazard, my lady. I am employed to guard Master Margaash this evening, though he feels safe here. Still, I will do my duty and watch for danger to him."

"I am Krisnys Riverking, and you are...?"

"Hundwin Beastmaster."

Krisnys frowns in thought. She points to Hundwin's attire. "You dress like a Shifter tribesman of the Eldeen Reaches; you braid your hair in the fashion of a Shifter tribesman of the Eldeen Reaches, and you bear the name of a Shifter tribesman of the Eldeen Reaches, yet you are human. This strikes me as a potentially interesting tale. Will you share it with me, brother?"

Hundwin is quiet for a moment, his eyes still searching the room as he tries to determine if he can trust Krisnys Riverking or not. She is too serene and calm for him to get a read on her as he can with others, but he notices a rune tattooed on the back of her hand as she raises her goblet to sip from it. It is the mark of the Gatekeepers, a noble sect of Druids from the Eldeen Reaches. He assumes, then, they she is likely a Dreamsight Shifter.

"I am not human. I am an inu yokai of the Hengeyokai from Riedra."

"I have no idea what any of that means," Krisnys says.

"Yokai are... shapeshifters. In my natural form I look like you, only with more pronounced animal features. Inu yokai are hound shifters. I can appear human, or I can appear as a large hound, but I am not a lycanthrope. I suffer no curse," Hundwin adds hastily. "Henge, the god you call Balinor, made my people this way so that we would learn to judge others by their actions, not on their appearances. We lived in a place called the Valley of Peace, in the shadow of the Jade Palace, which is actually a temple and monastery. All the clans worked and lived together, Hare and Hound, Crane and Snake, Tiger and Monkey, Panda and Sheep, Fox and Rooster; all watched over by a might paladin called the Dragon Knight and his Five Stalwart Companions, and we were led by the wise Jade Master. It was a good life until the Inspired decided that the Valley of Peace should belong to them. We fought, and we held for a generation or two, according to my father. We even offered our valley to the Kalashtar as a refuge when they were driven from their lands by the Inspired, but it was for nought. Father smuggled us from the valley along with a few other families from some of the other clans so that a remnant of our people might survive."

Quote :

The member 'Gideon Shaw' has done the following action : Dice roll

#1 'd20' : 15 + 7 (Perception) = 22

--------------------------------

#2 'd20' : 5 + 4 (Sense Motive) = 9

--------------------------------

#3 'd20' : 17 + 7 (Perception) = 24

Krisnys nods at his explanation. "I would keep that explanation to yourself if confronted by devotees of the Silver Flame. Our lycranthropic ancestors suffered no curse either. Oh some did, but most of the good races, like my family of the bears, did not infect anyone. Destroying those mad creatures that would spread our gift like a disease is in fact a good thing. But had not calmer heads finally prevailed, they would have destroyed us who did not have any such gift. Even today, I as a Moonspeaker Druid, experience long looks from these zealots for my ability to take on the form of a bear or doe. Still it is good to hear of others who have learned to live in peace, even if that peace did not last forever. It is my hope your kin take back this Valley of Peace. Later, after you are done with your task, I would hear more tales of this place. Not it's downfall, but rather it's life, such as you know. I know of a garden nearby with trees and plants from the Eldeen reaches, and another not far from it, with plants and trees from Adar. There is a place with architecture and woodlands from Reidra, but it has always seemed off to me. I cannot explain why, and besides might bring up bad memories for you." She does not seem to wish to dredge up the bad memories, but she is also very interested in Hudwin at the same time.

JIC: 9 ,10, 7

Cogsworth wrote:

"Oh, " Cogsworth shakes himself and turns back toward Da'ren. "Thank you for the invitation. I'm still not entirely sure how you found my new flat over in Den'iyas. I just moved in three days ago."

"Well, Cogsworth, I may have had a hand in you getting that flat. I heard that you needed to leave your other place because of, well," he whispers "termites." Da'ren resumed his normal tone of voice. "So, your landlord didn't want to have a warforged there. Something about clanking. Anyway, I paid a visit to him, and made sure that he would let you move in. It required me to wait until his daughter was around and mentioned that someone who did not ... accept warforged could never be invited to one of my parties."

Da'ren chuckles, then sighs. "There they are now." An unattractive human girl and her portly father walk into the room. "Don't forget to say Hi to your landlord." He winks at Cogsworth. "He will be surprised at the guest list."

JIC 2, 18, 6

"I thank you for your advice, sister," Hundwin says. "May I make an inquiry?"

"That is an inquiry, but you may make another," Krisnys replies.

"I do not know what manner of... being that is," Hundwin says nodding his head toward Cogsworth. "Is that a 'warformed'?"

Krisnys smiles warmly. "The term is 'Warforged, and yes, he is. Have you never seen a Warforged?"

"Not really. I have heard tales, but I am only recently come into... 'civilization'. My father and mother work with House Vadalis. We are... gifted animal trainers. I have spent my entire life until now in the company of animals and or the humans of House Vadalis or our Shifter tribe. I think I may be what you might call 'sheltered'."

"You won't be for long in Sharn, young brother," Krisnys chuckles. "Come. Introduce yourself to the Warforged. Make a new friend."

JIC: 12, 13, 13

Da'ren wrote:

Da'ren chuckles, then sighs. There they are now.

Cogsworth looks over to the two humans Da'ren pointed out. The older man is wearing a purple overtunic and robe. It is finely made, if somewhat threadbare around the edges. It made Cogsworth think of a plum. The younger girl with him, only slightly rotund and quite obviously his daughter, is wearing a dark green dress with black highlights around the sleeves and hem.
Avacado, he thinks.

Da'ren wrote:

Don't forget to say Hi to your landlord. He winks at Cogsworth.

"Let me go take care of that now." Cogsworth replied and immediately went to intercept the two.
The father stumbled to a stop as Cogsworth approached, forcing his daughter to a stop beside him.
"Good Evening, Master Nelview." said Cogsworth with a small bow. "I'm your new tenant, Cogsworth. I just moved into the flat over Master Grell's shop."
Cogsworth turned to gesture toward his host, "Master Da'ren told me ..." Cogsworth trailed off, noting that Da'ren was no longer there, but had wandered off, probably to greet more guests.
"My..." Cogsworth started, then recalled himself and turned back toward his new landlord.
Nelview had removed a handkerchief from somewhere about his person and was using it to cover his mouth. Cogsworth, oblivious, continued on.
"Master Da'ren informed me that you had some concerns about noise issues. I assure you that warforged are no more noisy than typical tenants. Other than the occasional explosion, you'll probably never even know I'm there."
Nelview paled but was saved from having to respond by his daughter.
"Are you one of the artists?" she asked.
"Hardly, " he responded, turning to her. "I can understand the assumption considering I'm a warforged, but I never really cared for painting."
"I believe the artists are somewhere over there, " Cogsworth gestured vaguely behind him, "Over past the buffet."
At the mention of the buffet, the daughter became distracted and pulled her father away in the direction that Cogsworth had indicated.

Conversation aborted, Cogsworth turned back to face the room. As he did so, he noticed someone across the way gesture in his direction. It looked to be a shifter Cogsworth had come to know. Somewhat surprised, he hurried over.
"Mistress Riverking." he said as he approached. "Wonderful to see you. How is the Green Root coming along?"
Krisnys laughed, "It's coming along fine, Cogsworth, but it's still going to be awhile. It doesn't grow very well here in the city, you know."
"Nonsense, " he said. "I've not known anyone with more talent for growing greenery than you."
"One week? " he asked.
"Two."
Cogsworth sighed.
"This is Hundwin Beastmaster. He is attached to Margaash as security for the evening." she gestured to the figure beside her. "He's never met a warforged before."
"Indeed, " Cogsworth replied, sizing up the young man. "Quite pleased to make your acquaintance, then. One can only hope we meet your expectations."

Pasha wrote:

Poor Grumpy. Could there be a worse assignment for you?

Well, I've had worse assignments. Not many, though. Skjoldur adjusted his tunic - a somewhat pointless gesture, as the uniform was as spotless and unwrinkled as it had been the day he received it - but he did it anyway. Rule number one: attention to detail. Hopefully it, combined with his expres​sion(he had practiced "the look" in front of a mirror until he could adopt it in a heartbeat) would discourage any attempts at small talk from the guests. He again scanned the room, mentally tagging the most obvious threats.

1d20+5=15

Two humans, though one in the company of my kinswoman Prashka. Three - correction, now four - warforged. One shifter. And of course the hobgoblin. That the male human and the hobgoblin were also part of the security team was a trivial distinction.

1d20+5=13

I may not have armor, but I have options, Skjoldur mused. The wall sconce above me is just within reach. That chair is reasonably light. Several trays on the tables, and not a few knives as well. He checked the dagger on his belt. No substitute for my hammer, but you'll have to do.

Now for the less obvious.

1d20+5=18

The other patrons were behaving just as one would expect them to. Eating. Drinking. 'Oohing' and 'ahhing' over the sculptures and paintings. Shmoozing. If something were to happen, Skjoldur wouldn't be at all surprised if it was started by one of them.

He adjusted his tunic.

Izora glanced at Pasha as she attempted to cover up the fact she was wearing studded armour under her surcoat. It was impossible, but the attempt made the sheep that usually attended these things more comfortable. It's much easier to hide your armour when it's mage armour. Being a scion of her house made it easier to openly carry her weapons, but Izora hated, loathed, despised society parties. Another night, another party, another chance to "reinforce the positive image of House of Deneith" to the upper echelons of Sharn.

Remind me again how I keep getting talked into coming into these things. Da'ren always invites at least one person he is trying to make a point with. It stopped being amusing. She snarked under her breath as she watched her host send a Warforged to make a fat man and his plain daughter uncomfortable. She noted the smirk as his tactic succeeded. He is not as harmless as most would think.

The art was good she noted as she looked around the room for the hundredth time that evening mentally cataloging everyone there and who they were talking to. The security dwarf looked about as happy as Izora was to be there, but at least he was being paid. For some reason she always felt like a prized heifer being auctioned at one of these parties. Being paraded around to attract the attention of rich bidders was not her idea of fun.

But she liked Ari and Pasha and they made these ridiculous things interesting. She still hadn't decided who it was with the trouble magnet shoved up thier ass, but when the three of them went out it usually ended in a fight of some kind.

Should probably avoid the booze.

JIC: 18, 7, 10

Cogsworth wrote:

JIC: 12, 13, 13
"This is Hundwin Beastmaster. He is attached to Margaash as security for the evening." she gestured to the figure beside her. "He's never met a warforged before."
"Indeed, " Cogsworth replied, sizing up the young man. "Quite pleased to make your acquaintance, then. One can only hope we meet your expectations."

JIC 12, 17, & 5

"Thank you for your graciousness, good... uh, sir? Madam?" Hundwin stammered.

"Common pronoun misconception. While the Warforged lack sexual organs and are, in fact, genderless, generally the masculine pronoun is acceptable," Cogworth explained.

"Fascinating," Hundwin gaped. "Is it true that your people do not eat or drink or sleep? Can you dream? Are you composed entirely of metal because your, uh, 'muscles' look like plant fibers, and is it true that the mark on your forehead is unique?"

Cogworth made a noise that Hundwin realized was laughter. "I may not need to breath, young man, but you certainly do. Come, you breath and eat, and I will answer your questions as best I may..."

JIC: 19, 13, 8, 3

Adriana, Pink, and Izora enter Da'ren's party together. Adriana is adorned with a gold encrusted garnet necklace, gold armbands that wrap her upper arms only, and a garnet ring on her right ring finger in a Brelish blue strapless evening dress, exposing her shoulders and her dragon mark. She is very proud of her mark as she is one of the rare few to have had it since birth. It has afforded her many courtesies that she may not otherwise have been offered. She carries on conversations with Pink and Izora at first.

Pasha wrote:

"So, Adri, I bet I know where you're going first. Just remember to give them time to answer the first question before asking another." She smiles good-naturedly at her friend. "I think I have some parchment tucked in here somewhere if you need it…"

"Pink, you know me so well, sister. If it weren't for you I feel I would some how forget my head. Just so much going on all the time. So many things to do and accomplish. Must go talk to the goblin while I can gain his attention. Thank you sister for the parchment. Did you happen to bring a pen too? "

Izora d'Deneith wrote:

Remind me again how I keep getting talked into coming into these things. Da'ren always invites at least one person he is trying to make a point with. It stopped being amusing. She snarked under her breath.

"Izora, you already answered yourself. You come to Da'ren's parties to watch the excitement and see whom he has in his sights this time. You enjoy watching him make the others squirm. It gives you something to do."

Cogsworth wrote:

Cogsworth trailed off, noting that Da'ren was no longer there, but had wandered off, probably to greet more guests.

JIC 16, 2, 1 [Roll #441]

Da'ren wanders about the room, randomly greeting guests. He thinks 'I shall have a little fun with Skjoldur'!

Pasha wrote:

Poor Grumpy. Could there be a worse assignment for you?

Skjoldur is such an amusing fellow to Da'ren. All of that dwarven cynicism, rolled up in a crunchy package of armor and weapons. What fun!

Da'ren whispers loudly to no one in particular "Shhh. I'll be back in a moment.".

Stealth check to sneak up on Skjoldur: 1d20 + 3 = 6 [Roll #442]

For the amusement of his guests, Da'ren twists the ends of an invisible mustache, and then sniggers. As he swings his arm around to melodramatically wrap himself in a 'cape', he accidentally knock a glass off of a tray, where it shatters on the floor. He thin begins to walk up to Skjoldur in a strange manner, as if taking very small, quick steps would reduce the chance of his approach being heard.

The shattered glass focused Skjoldur's attention immediately. (See OOC thread.) Without moving a muscle, he watched out of the corner of his eye as the elf Da'ren started - tip toeing? - towards him. Maybe he's trying not to step on a piece of broken glass. It's also possible he's been licking his brushes too much. I've heard those paints'll scramble your brain but good.

For some reason that Skjoldur himself couldn't explain, he decided to nonchalantly turn away from the approaching elf. He began studiously examining the closest painting, a landscape depicting what Skjoldur believed to be pre-war Cyre. Let's see how this plays out.

Adriana wrote:

"...Must go talk to the goblin while I can gain his attention. Thank you sister for the parchment. Did you happen to bring a pen too? "

Pasha eyes Adriana's fashionable ("fancy-schmancy") dress and accoutrements and says "Oh, I think you'll 'gain his attention' all right. You might have to ask your questions more than once, though." Pasha winks at her friend. She opens a tooled leather purse attached to a Brelish blue cloth belt (her sole fashion concession to the evening's festivities). She brings out a small journal and a slender stick of charcoal also wrapped in Brelish blue and hands them to Adriana. "A pen would have been too messy. After all the attention you put to your appearance tonight, we couldn't risk an ink spill, now could we? You're all set now …"

Izora wrote:

"Remind me again how I keep getting talked into coming into these things. Da'ren always invites at least one person he is trying to make a point with. It stopped being amusing." She snarked under her breath.

Adriana wrote:

"Izora, you already answered yourself. You come to Da'ren's parties to watch the excitement and see whom he has in his sights this time. You enjoy watching him make the others squirm. It gives you something to do."

Pasha turns to smile up at her glowering friend. "And by the way, Izzy, you came because your House expects you to make an appearance." Her smile widens into a grin. "And because I beat you in arm wrestling. Again."

Izora wrote:

The security dwarf looked about as happy as Izora was to be there, but at least he was being paid.

She liked Ari and Pasha and they made these ridiculous things interesting...but when the three of them went out it usually ended in a fight of some kind. Should probably avoid the booze.

Pasha notes that Izora looks about as happy to be there as Skjoldur does. "Tsk, tsk, Lady d'Deneith! Let's turn your frown upside down! Come, have a refreshing beverage! Perhaps some fruit wine, or a sip of mead?"

Pasha halts her friendly banter to track a flurry of blue darting through the crowd. She watches Da'ren gracefully intercept what appears to be a startled girl in a powder-blue dress. Pasha cannot hear their conversation, but he appears to calm her, and directs her toward the desserts. Then she notices Da'ren skillfully nudge a warforged in the direction of two other guests. Father and daughter? They don't seem to like the warforged much, judging from their body language. Pasha realizes Da'ren has slipped away by this time.

"Dibs on walkabout!" Pasha winks at Izora as she steps away from her friend and enters the flow of the crowd, in search of Da'ren.

She nods imperceptibly to acknowledge Skjoldur's presence. She sidesteps to avoid a couple deep in conversation. She notes their hair is unusually braided, even for Sharn.

Pasha positions herself near the wall of paintings. She is aware that Skjoldur has been assigned to ensure the security of the artwork. Another pair of eyes can't hurt, she decides.

Quote :

The member 'Gideon Shaw' has done the following action : Dice roll

'd20' : 14, 6, 8

Hundwin hears glass breaking and looks around for the source of the sound, concerned that despite his employer's protestations to the contrary, someone has been stupid enough to try attacking during the party.

"Apologies, Friend Cogsworth, but I may have work to do," Hundwin says reaching for the kukri sheathed on his belt.

Quote :

The member 'Pasha' has done the following action : JIC

'd20' : 20, 15, 18

Da'ren wrote:

As he swings his arm around to melodramatically wrap himself in a 'cape', he accidentally knock a glass off of a tray, where it shatters on the floor. He thin begins to walk up to Skjoldur in a strange manner, as if taking very small, quick steps would reduce the chance of his approach being heard.

At the sound of shattering glass, Pasha instinctively tenses. She glances over her shoulder and sees Da'ren pantomiming...something...in a most melodramatic fashion. He seems to be heading toward Skjoldur, who is affecting nonchalance and pretending not to notice.

Well, I guess it's not a party until something gets broken. Da'ren, what are you up to now?

The breaking of the glass causes everyone in the room to turn and the low music to stop. However, never let it be said that Da'ren hires slow musicians. From the second they see Da'ren in his exagerated pose, the music starts anew, with each of his movements being echoed by the music, and a countering low and slow movement that matches to the dour dwarf's expressions.

(Note to GM when determining XP: +100 XP to Steven)

JIC: 6, 10, 3

JulianAmici wrote:

The breaking of the glass causes everyone in the room to turn and the low music to stop. However, never let it be said that Da'ren hires slow musicians. From the second they see Da'ren in his exagerated pose, the music starts anew, with each of his movements being echoed by the music, and a countering low and slow movement that matches to the dour dwarf's expressions.

Da'ren knew that he had revealed himself at the sound of the glass shattering on the floor. Well, now, here was obviously another opportunity to be the center of attention! Acting as if he had knocked the glass over on purpose (Bluff: 1d20+6=18), Da'ren continued his strange walk (Perform-Acting: 1d20+2=11).

Daren's policy when dealing with Skjoldur, because the dwarf was ostensibly assigned as security to Da'ren's functions, and one never wants to truly offend their dwarven security, was always to slip a little certificate to the dwarf, good for some alcohol at Skjoldur's favorite drinking joint. This certificate was generally calculated to give the dwarf a slightly worse hangover than the headache that he received from working Da'ren's various festivities. Generally, the certificates were worth two or three pints of ale. One particularly memorable certificate had been worth three tankards of Dwarven stout, on the occassion where the Half-Ork, Half-Dwarven werewolf had decided that she liked the smell of Skjoldur and spent the entire evening... sniffing around him.

Skjoldur could generally tell what sort of night Da'ren had planned, based on the contents of the certificate. This particular one, when Skjoldur opens it, is a reciept for an entire barrel of dwarven ale. The good kind of dwarven ale. The 50 gold a barrel dwarven ale.

With a flourish, Da'ren presents the certificate to Skjoldur.

Skjoldur took the small parchment, and started to tuck it, unread, into his jacket's inside pocket. He paused, sparing a glance at his employer (sense motive roll: 14) and chose to examine the certificate first. His eyes widened, then narrowed.

"The Flame take you, elf, " Skjoldur growled. Then the corners of his mouth suggested the slightest hint of a smile. "Either you are invited a dragon to this party, or you are wanting me to kill someone here."

JIC: 18, 15, 19

Smilingotter wrote:

"The Flame take you, elf, " Skjoldur growled. Then the corners of his mouth suggested the slightest hint of a smile. "Either you've invited a dragon to the party, or you want me to kill someone here."

Da'ren replied innocently (Bluff: 1d20+6=26), "I don't know any dragons."

"Well alright, then," Skjoldur replied with a particularly loud whisper. He made a dramatic show of scanning the room. "Who among guests do you want dead, and how..." Skjoldur paused, looking for the right word. "How... messily? Do you want it done?"