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Sex, Violence, and Magic: Adventures in Eberron (Penny & RestlessPanda)

Oooh we'd need to get that fixed ASAP. Crow really hadn't put any stock into the kind of religous malarky that the woman was spouting, and she almost laughed out loud at the mention of pamphletts. But when the arm went rogue and fists were thrown, she stepped in quick.

Kicking back with her foot to put a little distance behind the two she swung her arm out, as the spring sprung a long cable snaked through the air like lightning. her hope was to scare the girl and pull her back and away from Rolin, and hopefully not start a gang war in the streets.

24 to hit, and 1 damage. And she wants to pull the girl away from Rolin
 
The whip wraps around the woman's forearm and yanks her almost off her feet. She stumbles past Rolin before stopping in front of Crow. The whip comes free from her arm; it hasn't hurt her severely, but it has drawn blood, and she clamps her other hand over the cuts as she backpedals away from both Crow and Rolin.

"Alright, alright!" she exclaims, her eyes darting between the Crow and Rolin. After reconsidering her options, she scowls and pulls open her shirt, revealing herself to both of them. "There, satisfied?!"

After several seconds, she pulls her shirt closed again. "Fuck you. You're not getting any pamphlets," she spits before turning and running off.

Rolin, who looked guilty enough to begin with, looks utterly mortified by the woman's display. He grimaces, his head in his hands, before releasing a long sigh of regret. "Damn it. You should have just let her hit me. It was all my fault anyway."
 
"Don't let it get to you. I have a hunch she was some of Oskar's muscle, or at least, connected to someone meant to slow people down from getting to people who don't want to be found. Come on." She retracted her whip with a snap, putting the safety back on and walking up to Rolin. "Let's keep going, don't want to run the risk of him going rabbit and bailing before we get there." As the began to walk, she noticed he was still on her other side. So she stopped, walking around to his prosthetic side, and hooking her arm around his.

"There." She said with a grin up at him. "Now you don't have to worry about getting handsy with someone unfamiliar. Let's go, shall we?"
 
"You think so?" Rolin rubs his chin. "I didn't think of that."

He looks down at Crow as she intertwines her arm with his. He blushes slightly, glancing away for a moment before giving her a shy smile. "That's nice of you. You sure you're alright with it pawing at you? I'm trying to keep it under control, but you know I might slip up sooner or later."

In fact, hooking her arm around Rolin's does a lot to keep it under control. It puts his hand at an awkward position to grope her, and when it starts to move, it doesn't get far before Rolin notices the movement and resumes conscious control of his limb. The walk continues without any more awkward moments until Rolin extends his free hand, one finger pointing forward. "There."

Rolin is pointing at a squat wooden building squeezed into the corner between two towers. A clear, but artless sign above the door reads Oksar's Magic Emporium. The door is open and a steady, most likely magical light glows from inside. Through the doorway, a red-haired dwarf passes in and out of view as he crosses the room, not seeming to notice Crow and Rolin outside.
 
Crow giggles a little bit. She likes this one flustered. After they walked a while she spotted the workshop in question. Her eyes narrowed. Oh great, a dwarf. More than likely he'd be stubborn. She untangled herself from Rolin and walked for the door. "Okay, you stay here for now. When I wave at you, come in. I want to feel the guy out first."

She stopped before going in and looked at him, smiling ruefully. "And keep a hand on your hand. Keep six feet from people, k?" She winked and walked inside the workshop.

Looking around the shop, she tugged on the collar of her shirt, pulling out a mechanical pen and rolling it across her fingers. "Hello? Anyone here?"
 
Rolin plants himself to the side, near the shop's entrance but not visible from inside. He crosses his arms and nods at Crow with an ironic smirk. "Standing by for deployment, ma'am."

The shop's interior is claustrophobic and lit by the steady, yellowish glow of two magic lights above the counter. Two warforged with studded leather armour integrated into their forms flank the entrance, their heads brushing against the low ceiling. The counter is bare, but a miscellany of magical doodads crowd shelves on the walls of the shop's rear half, out of reach of anyone in front of the counter. Behind the counter is a dwarf with carrot-orange hair, looking up at Crow with with a intense and eager expression.

"Morning, miss!" he says, leaning on the counter. Without a clear view of the outside, he's probably not aware that they've just passed noon. "I'm Oskar. What are you looking for today? I have a bit of everything, and whatever I don't have, I can get."
 
"Love to hear it love to hear it." She said, rubbing her hands together, the pen between them. "I'm mostly browsing for insporation on a project, but you never know when you just need something ya know?"

her eyes scanned the place for anything leaning in the direction of prosthetics, also eyeing the warforged. Those could be a problem. "I'm looking to get some augments for my glove." She said, raising the mechanical half gauntlet and wiggling the fingers. "Maybe an extra cantrip or two, but I'm worried about overloading it and causing the whole thing to bust. I haven't really had enough experience to make it specialized yet so, I'm looking for all the help I can get. Anything you'd reccomend for an arm with attitude?"

Right now she's feeling him out. Not trying to get any kind of real information outside of how he'd handle a new customer, and if she's getting scammed. Underplaying whatr she knows of course.
 
"An arm with attitude, eh?" Oskar chuckles, stroking his beard. He leans forward and examines the gauntlet. "Let's see what I've got on hand, so to speak."

The dwarf moves to one corner of the shelf, pointing to one item after another as he moves along the rear perimeter of the room. Many of his goods could be considered magic-adjacent rather than truly magical in their own right, such as material components and foci, while most of the rest are low-powered magical items such as potions, cantrip scrolls, or basic tokens. Nonetheless, there are easily several hundred gold pieces of magical goods lining the shelves of this shop, and he may even more valuable goods secured out of sight.

"Let's see, let's see," Oskar says, returning to the counter. He spreads a collection of material components out in front of Crow. "We could incorporate some of these materials into your glove. They're used for casting spells, see? Here's some copper wire - that's used to send messages, like House Sivis. Very convenient if you need to tell someone across the way without anyone knowing. We've got a couple of lodestones here - magnets. That's used to magically repair something. You look like someone who wants to keep all your equipment in tip-top shape. We could work this feather in, too. That's used to stop you or other things from falling. Did you hear about that girl who got hit with a brick the other day? She'd still be here if she had this. Very useful in the City of Towers."

He runs his hand through his beard, looking up at Crow, then shoves the material components to the side of the counter. "Ah, this is kid's stuff! You don't want this. I can tell you're something special. Let me get you the prime gear."

He moves to the back shelves, plucking up a flat stone and a polished orb of obsidian. On the same shelf, Crow can see what looks like a warforged hand, but smaller - even smaller in scale than Rolin's arm. It looks like it would fit a gnome or a halfling. Oskar returns to the counter and puts down the two stones.

"This here's a cleansing stone," he says, holding up the flat stone. "It'll clean your clothes, your hair, everything on you. No more bathhouses, no more laundry! What an investment, eh? House Ghallanda uses them in the best of their best inns. And this is a focus orb - with this, you don't need any of these." He motions vaguely towards the material components. "Just hold it and cast. But! It's more than that - it protects you against necromancy. I got it from a veteran of the Karrnathi front."

He pauses, looking Crow up and down slowly and thoughtfully before nodding sagely to himself. "You know...I think I have something perfect for you."

Without taking her eyes off her, Oskar reaches under the counter and pulls out a lockbox, setting it almost reverently on the countertop. Pulling on a chain around his neck, he draws a small key from his shirt and unlocks the box. "I don't show this everyone, you know," he says as he does so. "Only people that will appreciate it."

From inside the box, he pulls out a well-crafted tinker's multitool. With a flick of his wrist, the tool transforms into a calligraphy pen. With another flick, it becomes an awl. Then, a hammer. A ladle. A paintbrush. A compass. "The true universal tool," Oskar says, his voice almost a whisper. His eyes glint with the look of a man sharing a treasured secret. "There's power in this. Not just for any artisan - magic power. Only a truly gifted artificer can get the most out of this."

He holds Crow's gaze for another moment. There's a sound behind her, and she realizes the warforged have moved, most likely to prevent her escape if she decides to snatch something and run. Oskar reverts the final object to a multitool, then tucks it into the lockbox. It remains on the countertop, but he rests a hand atop it. "So. You like what you see?"
 
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There was certainly a LOT going on in here. And she'd probably have a field day taking everything here apart and seeing what made them all thick. But alas, she did not have the money nor the time. One after another the dwarf showed her things, hyping her interest and pulling it away before she could really look at it too closely. Curious. He was certainly a salesman. And with teh warforged behind her she was sure he'd dealt with more than his fair share of trouble. A shame really, he seemed like someone who'd she'd get along with on a proffessional level.

Oh well.

With a final click of her pen she tucked it behind her ear as the pearl enlayed device whirred ever so slightly. "I certainly do. You have a lot of cool stuff around here, are you a part of any of the guilds?"

Her hand rests on the box itself, and attempted to glean any other information out of it that the man might be hiding. But more than that...

"Multitool aside, there's a couple things that caught my eye. Because I'm not just here looking for my newest project, I'm also here looking for the origin of something. Nothing concerning the families or officials, just... career curiosity. I recently came across an arm that seems to be a bit jittery, and I tracked it to this location. Amazing piece of work, nothing like any of the warforged that I've ever seen. And I spotted a small hand on the back wall that reminds me of it."

She's using the pen to cast Identify for any additional info. If not, she's not gonna push to get her hands on the multitool. Right now she's mostly focused on the arm and the hand and where it came from.
 
I think technically this would identify the lockbox, but I won't split hairs (this time). If you have Tasha's Cauldron of Everything, the item is a +1 All-Purpose Tool. Just in case:

All-Purpose Tool
Wondrous item, uncommon (+1), rare (+2), very rare (+3) (requires attunement by an artificer)
This simple screwdriver can transform into a variety of tools; as an action, you can touch the item and transform it into any type of artisan's tool of your choice (see the "Equipment" chapter in the Player's Handbook for a list of artisan's tools). Whatever form the tool takes, you are proficient with it.

While holding this tool, you gain a bonus to the spell attack rolls and saving throw DCs of your artificer spells. The bonus is determined by the tool's rarity.

As an action, you can focus on the tool to channel your channel forces. Choose a cantrip that you don't know from any class list. For 8 hours, you can cast that cantrip, and it counts as an artificer cantrip for you. Once this property is used, it can't be used again until the next dawn.

Also, if you don't have Tasha's Cauldron of Everything, let me know, because it expands on the Artificer class and uses certain rules I plan to use in this RP.

The item in the lockbox is definitely a cut above most of the stuff in this shop. It's well past what one would expect to see for sale in this part of the city, and it would not be surprising if it were the most expensive item in the building. As Crow puts her hand on the box, she feels Oskar's hand tighten its grip, gently but firmly pulling the lockbox back and away from her.

"Guild?" Oskar repeats. "Absolutely not! Guilds take fees, so members charge more, but they get away from it because the guild covers for them and tries to force out honest, self-reliant workers. And the Houses are worse! No, I'm independent. I live on my reputation and on providing the best deals in Callestan."

He smiles proudly, but the smile disappears as Crow continues. When she mentions a "jittery" magic item, he breaks eye contact and grumbles. "Nothing jittery about my products. Sometimes buyers get something they don't know how to handle, but that's on them."

He doesn't looks back at the hand. Instead, he glances behind Crow, most likely making eye contact with the warforged behind her.
 
"Uh huh, sure sure. Look, I don't want to cause a fuss. I'm not here to ruin your rep, or make a scene. You're a businessman! You got your priorities. No need for things to get sour." She holds up her hands defensively. Also, she cracks the first and second finger of her gloved hand with her thumb, and a whirr-click could be heard.

"I just wanna know about the origin of the arm I came across, and the hand behind you on the shelf. Preferably without anyone needing to become less than civil. What'll it take?" Her glance back towards the warforged did have her worried... She hoped Rolin was nearby and could pick up a hint...

Held Action, Firebolt on the first thing that gets physical with her. As long as its words, she's not causing a scene. However if she DOES have to fire, she's letting out a call to Rolin
 
Oskar's eyes lock onto Crow's glove at the whirring-clicking sound. It's clear he's liking this visit less by the second. Again, he glances at the two warforged behind Crow, this time without even the slightest effort at subtlety. At the same time, he draws the lockbox back with his hand and places it under the counter, his right hand remaining there, out of sight. Whether Rolin is ready to help is not obvious, at least with Crow's back to the door.

"Look, no one here wants things to get sour," Oskar finally says gruffly. "But I can't tell you my sources. It's not like I've got contracts with the Houses or something, anyway. Half of what you see in here, I bought from someone I'd never seen before or since. If you want to figure out where that arm came from, you won't get the answer here.

"And by the way, if you're thinking of getting less than civil, just know I've got protection. Even if you get away today, they will find you, and you won't like what happens."
 
"Oh. Is that a threat?" She grinned, lowering her hands. "Please tell me it is." There was a slight... Something off about how she said that. "Hey Rolin, I'm coming out now." She called over her shoulder. "You mentioned the guild.... I wonder what they could do with this place if they got their hands on it." She glanced back at the warforged, then back to the dwarf.

"Cause while the authorities may not give a shit about what happens here, I'm sure people with far more influence would love to get their mits on some of these things. Your protection...." She put her hands on the counter and leaned in "Wont mean much with people who simply have more money than you. But fine." She put her hands behind her back and smiled. "I'm not gonna through the first punch, and I don't think you will either. So I wish you a good day sir."

And with that she turned and made an effort to leave. Again, ready to fight if things went south.
 
"The guild ain't gonna mess with me!" Oskar scoffs. His protest comes fast and forceful - maybe a bit too forceful, as if he's trying to convince himself as much as her. "You think any guild member wants to live in this place? You think they're gonna want to pay guild fees and protection? You think the Boromars are gonna let 'em - "

Crow turns to see Rolin on the other side of the warforged, now not even trying to hide himself. The warforged directly behind Crow steps aside, giving her room to walk out the door, but close enough to grab her if she makes any sudden movements. The other warforged is standing to the side, watching her intently.

"Don't you walk out of here!" Oskar demands. Immediately, the warforged steps back into place, blocking the entrance. Behind them, Crow sees Rolin's eyes sharpen, his hands curling into fists, ready to strike.
 
She doesn't look back at him, in fact she isn't even looking at the warforged. She's looking at Rolin. Crow gives him a smile, her hair bouncing slightly. Then she looks over her shoulder at the dwarf.

"So what? You're going to detain me? Pretty sure that's kidnapping. You're gonna have your friends here rough me up for trying to leave? That's assualt and battery." She turned her attention to the warforged and smiled at them. "Gentlemen, or ladies, it's hard to tell, I just want to be on my way to track down information. And I really wouldn't want to get in a scuffle with you two, you seem far too intellegent for mere gruntwork."

She meant this very sincerely, as in the low light and well.. robot bodies, it was hard to tell at times. "Would you allow me through? Or..." She looked back at the man behind hte counter. "Are we going to talk civilly?"
 
Rolin tries to smile back at Crow, but still looks anxious. He keeps his eyes on the warforged, waiting for them to move. The warforged, always hard to read, don't seem to react to Crow. They may be particularly stoic, or they may be exactly as intelligent as appropriate for this grunt work. The Treaty of Thronehold that ended the Last War gave the warforged full rights as persons, allowing them the freedom to pursue any profession or life path. In addition, they don't need to eat or drink, and while they do need to rest, they don't need to sleep, so they don't need nearly as much money for groceries and rent. It takes a certain lack of creativity and mental flexibility to have all that opportunity and fall right back into the same sort of work as they did during the War.

"Like you'd be the first one to get held in a room and smacked around in Callestan," Oskar says sarcastically. "But that's not what I'm gonna do. I'm telling you this because that boy outside's a slow learner. You keep asking questions about that arm, and eventually you're gonna attract the wrong type of attention, you understand? You don't want to piss off the guy who sold me those prosthetics. For your own sake, just let it go."
 
She turned back and looks at Oskar, arms crossed. "We could avoid all of this and you just fuckin tell me already. I give you my word I'm not going to drag your name through the mud or anything if this DOES turn south. Or would it be better to point me in the direction of someone who could tell me more?"

Crow knew she didn't have the money to bribe him, even with buying something she wanted. She let out a sigh. "I'd really rather not go asking to the wind, but if it's SUCH a big deal that you're not even gonna give me the chance to find what's at teh other end of this.... Then fine. I'll go stirring up trouble elsewhere."
 
Oskar growls in frustration. "Look, I've already said too much. I'm not in the business of spilling secrets. I'm serious, though - don't go looking for trouble. The guy's got money and power and isn't responsible with either one."

He makes a hand motion to the two warforged. "Get her out of here." The two step aside and allow Crow to leave.

Rolin looks relieved once Crow is back out in the sun. He turns and puts his hand on her back, guiding her away from Oskar's. With gives one last look over his shoulder, making sure they're not being followed, then turns his attention to Crow. "Let's get that lunch and we'll talk about what you learned. You got a place in mind, or should I pick?"
 
"You pick." She said, hooking her arm around the metal apendage and letting out a pouty huff. Whoever the guy was dealing with must have been a big deal. She'd never seen anyone be so tight lipped about a faulty product, even if they were a shill. That being said, who woulda sold something so secritive to a person this far down in the less reputable side of town? As they walked she made sure to disengage her glove, putting the safety back on.

"Thanks for sticking around back there. I really didn't want to have to come to a fight but..." She shrugged slightly as they walked, her eyes watching people as they moved. She was curious if that girl she ran into earlier was with his protection or not... Then again, how much protection could he afford? So many questions.
 
"Alright," says Rolin. "I know a good spot."

As before, the stone, wood, and metal arm occasionally twitches in the cook of Crow's arm, but Rolin notices its movement and stops it before it can make a scene. Along the way, Crow spots the woman from earlier, approaching (and being rejected by) a man with a pamphlet in hand. Rolin takes Crow across a couple bridges and down a flight of tower steps to a large, semi-permanent stall set against the side of a tower. The centrepiece of the stall is a vertical rotisserie slowly rotating inside a metal box, open on the front and back, whose sides glow red on the inside with magical heat. The meat appears to be a enormous slab at first, but closer inspection reveals it to be constructed of several thin slices. Another compartment atop the box allows for the roasting of vegetables. At Rolin's request, the cook - a grey-haired, balding goblin wearing an apron patterned with stains of a variety of colours - slices off several strips of meat and wraps it up in flatbread with several roasted vegetables, runny sauces, and spices.

After paying a handful of silver, Rolin takes the food and guides Crow to one of the battered wooden tables arrayed in front of the stall. "I love this place," he says, sitting on one uneven chair and handing Crow one of the shawarma. "You get a good mix of meat and veggies for the price. I don't know if it's good meat and veggies, but you're mostly tasting the sauce anyway. So, what did you learn?"
 
"Not much unfortunately." She said, sitting and resting her chin on her hand. "He's very secretive, seemed VERY set on not telling me whoever he got it from. Guy almost seemed scared... Which means two things." She took a bite of the shawarma. It was tasty. "One, whoever he got them from is from higher up and probably either gang or noble affiliated. No one is that loyal over details without having a knife in their back. Second, I don't think whoever is 'protecting' him is the one who gave him the arm. Most of what he had in there was kinda meh, save for a multitool and a hand."

She sighed, pushing the hair out of her face. "I'm sorry I couldn't get more out of him, but I don't think this road is going to lead us anywhere... and without a lead, I'm not sure how to help you."
 
The shawarma's taste is both bizarre and overwhelming, so loaded with sauces and spices that Crow cannot even identify the meat or taste the vegetables. Whether that is good or bad depends on whether the eater prefers intensity or subtlety, as it provides the former in spades and none of the latter.

Rolin looks concerned at Crow's pessimism. "Well, hold on," he says quickly, his shawarma hovering near his face while his other, natural hand gesticulates. "Let's not give up yet. What do we got?

"I know the hand you're talking about,"
he continues. "A little one on the back shelf - goblin-sized, right? It looks like warforged, same as this one, except smaller. So wherever he got them, he got more than one, right? But he's scared of whoever it was. Someone who's probably not part of whatever gang he's paying for protection - and who's supplying product better than just about anything else in the store, you said. Right?"

His free hand stops gesticulating, closing into a fist. As he speaks, he counts off the points on his fingers. "So, we know his supplier is someone who: can make good product, can make a lot of product, is powerful, and isn't part of his usual gang. Any idea who that could be?"
 
Shortly past noon, the shawarma stall is going through its lunchtime rush. The cook is carving, cooking, and wrapping at a furious pace, with waiting customers lining up and those already served filling up the tables. People of all kinds - except rich - are moving to and fro throughout the area, and the smell of meat and spices flows rich in the air.

Suddenly Rolin jumps. "Hey!" he shouts, reaching behind him, but his hand finds nothing but air. Sprinting away is a scruffy-looking goblin, a coin purse in her hands.

"She took my money!" Rolin shouts, then jumps up from his chair. He attempts to chase the goblin, but she ducks between two people, and Rolin slows as he attempts to push through them.
 
"Oh for fucks sake!" Crow jumped up, dashing forwards and sliding down low between people to get through faster. Being short had it's advantages, as the goblin was clearly showing. "Get back here you short stack!" she shouted, clacking her glove with a spring. She didn't WANT to hurt the pickpocket but...

"Get back or I'm gonna string you up like a holiday turkey!"

She gives chase
 
With a low slide, Crow bypasses the crowd, keeping eyes on the goblin pickpocket. As she leaves the stall's seats, the goblin snatches a half-eaten shawarma from the hand of seated bystander, leaving him with nothing more than sauce smeared over his fingers.

"Hey...!" the man protests impotently, watching the goblin's back, as Crow rushes past him. Behind her, Rolin shoves the two people aside and follows after with strong, confident strides.

Ahead, the goblin nears a corner. Nearby is a beggar accompanies by two dogs, one standing and one sitting, both looking bored but attentive. As the goblin nears, they turn their head to track her movement. As she passes, she throws the shawarma down, scattering its contents on the ground next to the corner. Eagerly, the dogs jump forward, scarfing down the spilled foodstuffs as the goblin runs on.

This is a chase complication! Roll a DC 10 Dexterity (Acrobatics) check to get past the dogs without trouble. Otherwise, you lose five feet of movement, either because you trip over the dogs, have to go around them, slip on the sauce, whatever - get creative! Regardless of what happens, roll a D20 at the end of your turn; with a 1-10, you inflict a chase complication upon the goblin.

The goblin is currently 30 feet ahead of you and 40 feet ahead of Rolin.
 
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