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

Crafty little stack of waffles... as the dogs lunged forwards her eyes flicked around the street she was running. She reared her hand back then sent the whip-cord flying, the lash catching on a lamp post. With far more finesse than she thought she had, Crow ran up a barrel, and partially up a wall, the cord giving her the leverage to keep her momentum. With a jerk of the wrist she pushed off from the wall, the whip snapping back into place with a crack as her feet hit the floor running. She wasn't gaining any ground, but she wasn't losing any yet either.

"Don't make me throw fire at you!" She shouted, her eyes darting this way and that to look for anything she could use to slow down the goblin, or speed up her own chase.

13 on Acrobatics, and 16 on Goblin trouble.
 
Crow looks around, but sees nothing at the moment she can use. The goblin, deliberately or accidentally, has found a location prime for not just running but even blocking line of fire; by ducking in and out the lunch crowd, she makes it difficult for Crow to even line up a clear shot. Thankfully, Crow sticks her landing and loses no ground to the goblin, while behind her, Rolin leaps over the hungry dogs and keeps running.

As the goblin continues to run, it's clear she knows the area and is choosing where to run deliberately. Crow sees the pickpocket take a sharp turn at the next crossroads, but rounds the corner before the goblin has an opportunity to duck out of sight. She only catches sight of little green thief for just a moment before she slips into a narrow doorway, pulling a flimsy door shut behind her.

"She ducked in there!" Rolin shouts, still running behind Crow. "Did you see that?"

If Crow tests the door, she'll find it's locked, but it takes only a DC 10 Strength check to shoulder through it. Because of Crow's urchin background, I'll also allow her to make a DC 10 Intelligence (Investigation) check to know where the goblin is likely to exit the building and go around, bypassing the door.

The goblin is currently 30 feet ahead of Crow and 40 feet ahead of Rolin.
 
"I see!" she said, her movement coming to a halt for a split second. Crow looked around frantically. She didn't recognize this building, she rarely came through this part of town. Cursing to herself she threw her shoulder into the door. To her surprise, it opened, and she scrabled towards the wake of the goblin. A thrill was coursing through her, pumping her full of adrenaline. Her eyes darted around, taking in the area as she moved and doing her best to keep up with the goblin.

"You haven't lost me yet pancackes!" she shouted, her lungs burning from the excersion. She needed to work out more...

Failed the Investigation with a 4, made the strength check with a 14. And Complication rolled with a 3. I'm not sure what I can influence here, but anything allowing me to get a little closer would be great. Or a clear line of fire.
 
The cheap door pops open under the brunt of Crow's shoulder. Whatever this tower's original purpose was, it seems to serve as cheap apartment housing now, as she finds herself in a long hallway lined with more cheap doors. At the end of the hallway is the goblin pickpocket, sprinting towards a shuttered window. As Crow watches, the goblin puts a hand on the windowsill and leaps upward, driving her shoulder into the shutters.

...only for their latch to hold and the shutters to rattle in their frame, but not open. The goblin bounces off the shutters and falls hard onto the stone floor, momentarily stunned. Rolin's coin purse, knocked out of her grasp, hits the floor and pops open. Silver and copper coins scatter and roll across the floor with a small, pathetic sound of metal on rock.
 
Maybe it was the energy running out of her, but as she ran to the goblin she grabbed her by the shoulders and pinned her down. Partially because she was banking on her weight to keep the smaller creature under her... "Gotcha!" she said, panting hard, looking down at the thief. She honestly didn't have the strength to pick up the coins. And hopefully Rolin would show, get his stuff, and they could just leave.

... Damn up close this one was cute.
 
The goblin starts to rise, but Crow reaches her before she can get to her feet. The goblin squirms and thrashes, but is unable to slip out of Crow's pin or throw off her body weight. Rolin enters the building a moment later, breathing heavily. Once he confirms Crow has the goblin subdued, he starts to pick up his money.

"All this for some coppers!" the goblin spits, glaring at the spilled coins. She again thrashes impotently under Crow, to no effect. "Greedy fucking bastards! You couldn't even let me have a handful of coppers?!"

"And silvers," Rolin mutters gruffly.

"Like you can't afford it!" The pickpocket gives up the struggle and lies under Crow, seething and panting in equal measure. "Walking around with a fancy magic arm while I'm trying to scrape enough together to eat tonight! Like it wasn't enough for you soldiers to come and take every job in the city!"

"Yeah, yeah. We're all struggling, lady."

"Bullshit! I've seen equipment like that before, always on some other rich assholes. I know that shit ain't cheap."
 
"There there, calm down. What's your name?" She made she she wasn't painfully holding the goblin down. Something she'd said caught her attention. Crow was slowly getting her breath back, and to anyone else this scene would have seemed a lot spicier than intended.

"Money's money, I get that. We're actually trying to track down where the arm came from because my friend here got a... well, a rogue bit of tech. If I let you up will you play nice?"
 
"Huh?" The goblin peers up at Crow suspiciously. "Why do you care about my name? What are you going to do with it?"

She makes a token effort to escape again, but it's nothing more than a few seconds of squirming. She's getting her breath back, too, and seems to be calming down. Crow's care seems to be well-placed, as the goblin seems fairly comfortable underneath her.

"Okay, you want to make a deal?" she asks. "I don't know where his arm came from. But I can tell you where I saw other people with the same sort of gear. Maybe they can tell you. In return, you let me go. Promise?"
 
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"Nothing, I just like knowing the names of people under me." She says with a cheeky grin. She sits up, still on the goblins lower half, but no longer actively forcing her down. "Sounds good. I know that the dwarf a few wards over sold it to him, scrappy guy named Oskar. Seemed real intent on not telling us jack shit."

She scratched her cheek with her gauntlet hand, thinking. Maybe this one could be helpful later? She didn't seem malicious, just hungry. She could understand that. "Have you ever had shawarma? I can buy you one if you like."
 
"Seriously?" asks the goblin, blinking up at Crow.

"Yeah, seriously?" Rolin echoes. "She just stole from me, and you want to buy her lunch?"

He shakes his head, then shrugs. "Alright, but you're paying for her."

The goblin studies Crow's face for a moment, apparently unsure if this is some sort of trick. Her hands come up in some half-formed gesture, hover in mid-air for a moment, and then drop to rest on Crow's thighs. "Okay...I like shawarma. My name's Nasree."

Her hands rub Crow's thighs awkwardly for a moment. "So, who's the person on top of me?"
 
"Don't worry about it." Crow said with a smile at Rolin. She grinned as the goblin half rubbed her thighs. "I've been hungry, I know how that is and it sucks." Pushing herself up, she offered a non-gauntlet hand to Nasree to help her up as well.

"Friends call me Crow, I live a few wards over and run a tinker shop. Let's get you some lunch and we can fill you in on the details."

And she would, not going into full detail on Rolin's situation, but giving enough that Nasree wouldn't be in the dark. She did however make sure to keep herself between the rogue arm and the goblin, just in case. Back at the shwarma place, she paid for one and had the three sit.

"... and we were having a 'Coulda gone better' lunch when a slippery goblin decided to get my attention. And here we are now. So..." She trailed off, sipping on a cup of water and keeping an eye on Rolin and Nasree. She really hoped this wouldn't be an issue...
 
The shawarma costs you five copper pieces. Also, you're still in the same ward as Oskar; you just moved to a neighboring district. It takes about thirty minutes to get from one ward to another.

Rolin still looks skeptical, but stands by, keeping an eye on Nasree as Crow gets up. As she does so, his prosthetic hand squeezes her butt before Rolin pulls it away and steps out of reach, his cheeks flushing briefly. Nasree's eyes silently follow the interaction before she takes Crow's hand and is pulled to her feet. "Thanks."

Rolin doesn't intertwine his arm with Crow on the way over, not wanting to give Nasree the wrong idea. Instead, he keeps his hands behind his back, his natural hand grasping the wrist of of prosthetic in a modified, military at-ease position. Crow can tell it's a bit too stiff to do in the long-term, but over the short walk back to the shawarma place it keeps his arm from wandering, as it can't slip free from his grasp without him noticing it. When they return to the shawarma stall, Rolin is amazed to see his and Crow's half-eaten shawarma still lying on their table despite the crowd.

"They're still here!" he exclaims, then looks over at the grey-haired goblin cook. "You looking out for us, man?"

The cook gives a loose, sloppy salute with his knife hand and grins at Rolin, though he shoots Nasree the stink-eye. Nonetheless, he doesn't protest as Crow orders her a shawarma, whipping it up with the same speed and care as he gives to all the other orders.

Nasree is clearly hungry, tearing into the shawarma, but visibly fights to urge to immediately devour it in favour of savoring each bite. She moans happily, if not slightly erotically, at the flavours in her mouth. Halfway through, he pauses to give it a look Crow recognizes - she's wondering whether to save half for tomorrow - but the meal is too messy to possibly be preserved, so she finishes her meal then and there, licking the sauces off her fingers before leaning back in her seat with a satisfied sigh.

"I've heard of Oskar," Nasree says. "I've never been in his shop, though. I can't afford it, and they look out for people like me. But I know he's where you go to get magic stuff without, you know, leaving Lower Dura. I've seen a few people in the ward who have the same types of limbs as your friend has, but I don't know if they're twitchy like his.

"I'm pretty sure they're all war veterans. One of them just has a hand, he's some sort of trainer in Malleon's Gate. Two of them are mercenaries in Stormhold, up in Middle Dura - one's got an arm and one's got a leg. I think they're buddies, 'cuz I keep seeing them around each other. One's a halfling in the Stores who I think is some kind of big shot in the Boromar Clan, but I don't know much about her. That's not a good place to be a goblin, even though I've got nothing to do with Daask. The last one's an old guy in Cliffside. Both his legs are replaced. I think I heard he was a pirate from Lhazaar."
 
She knew that Rolin and the others weren't totally on board with Nasree being around but... She couldn't help it. She liked helping good people, and the goblin wasn't explicitly bad. As they sat down she handed over the money for the food, settling in as she listened.

And the more she listened, the more her tone shifted. The information was good but... It didn't add up to much. "And none of them are twitchy? The hell..." She frowned, her finger tapping on the table in thought. "That.... Hm... Honestly I wouldn't know where to start. Maybe I could look at their prosthetics, but... that's assuming they'd even let me get close enough to see." Crow sighed, leaning back in her seat.

"What do you think Rolin? Any of these names ring a bell?"
 
"I don't know if they're twitchy," Nasree stresses. "I don't know them personally. I've just seen them or heard of them."

"I only came to Sharn after the War, but I might have heard of them," Rolin shrugs. "What's their names, Nasree?"

"The one in Malleon's Gate is Tariic. He's a hobgoblin."

"Tariic...wait, I think I did hear of him from some of the other veterans in the city. He was a mercenary in the War. Now he runs training drills. If you get a job in security or...you know, gangs, your boss might pay for him to get you some specific training or get your team used to each other. What about the mercenaries in Stormhold?"

"I don't know their names. I've just seen them walking around, but most of the guards there are House Deneith. Real professionals, you don't want to fuck with them."

"No, you don't. I seen their work in the War. I don't figure they'd walk around with twitchy limbs. House Deneith has enough to money to buy them new ones anyhow What about the halfling?"

"Her name's Bree. Like I said, she's some kind of big shot in the Boromar Clan. Even if her arm's fucked, she wouldn't tell you. It would make her look weak."

"And the pirate?"

"I heard his name is Tack Bluewater."

"Bluewater!" Rolin leans forward over the table, his eyes going wide in shock. "You're telling me Bluewater's got one of these?"

"Two of 'em. Both legs."

Crow recognizes the name. Tack Bluewater was a pirate captain from the Lhazaar Principalities who picked up a privateering license from Breland during the Last War. Far more talented on the waves than most of Breland's navy, many in Sharn credit him with protecting the city from attack by sea throughout the War. His name was well known both for his victories at sea and the chaos his crew caused in Cliffiside whenever his crew had shore leave. When the Treaty of Thronehold was signed, he officially announced his retirement from sailing, but still lives in Sharn and leases out his ships.

"Bluewater's damn old," Rolin says, scratching at his chin stubble. "Old people like to talk - at least, my grandparents did. Maybe he'll tell us something."
 
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Listening to all of the options, Crow nodded, her gloved hand taping a slight rhythme on her bouncing leg. She was itching to get to the end of this but she was no where close to the finish line. if anything she was farther away than before... But that just meant she had a lot to do. It'd been a while since she'd been to the streets turning clues and hunting info. And she felt she wanted to be more than a simple mechanic living out of a closet.

"Well then... I guess that would be the next step. But first..." she looked at the two of them. "I know you came to me for information but this is turning out to be way bigger than a faulty arm. I don't know how deep you want to get in on this but..... I know I'm going to be looking into it." She smiled a little at Rolin. "I don't expect you to follow through, but there's a nagging in the back of my head that doesnt want to let this go. And I'm never gonna climb the ladder staying where I am."

Crow turned to Nesree. "And... Well, I don't want to assume you'd be at all interested in coming along either. It's not like I have anything to offer, and I know things started a bit..." She chuckled nervously. "Rocky, to say the least. But I wouldn't mind your help in this. You're fast and nimble, and that's hella useful."
 
"Are you kidding me?" Rolin asks with a grin. "I'm not going to back out now. It's my own arm! Maybe it don't seem like much to you, but you've made more progress today than I have in all the time I've been trying to get to the bottom of this. Of course I'm going to stick with you!"

He leans forward slightly. "Besides, I'm not the type who just sits back while others do the work for me. I'm a farm boy - I do my part."

Nasree looks less gung ho. She peers at Crow carefully for a moment before speaking. "Alright," she finally says. "I'll help you, but I don't work for free. I want three square meals a day, and a place to sleep, so I don't have to go up and down the city every day to get here. Deal?"
 
"Sounds good to me." She smiled and looked at the little ground. "Alrighty so... I think our next move should be to go see Bluewater in the morning. Old folks get up early, and he's a sailor yeah? I doubt he'd break out of his routine in his lifetime. So maybe we can start there? Head to Cliffside or wherever he perches these days and see if we can't get a little more information..."

That and she'd need to do some scouting beforehand. A shop keep with secrets was one thing, but a pirate? She'd need to come prepared.

After this she'd prolly go looking about for any kind of wiskey or wine that a pirate might find appriciative.
 
Nasree's eyes climb on her forehead, surprised, when Crow agrees to her terms. She probably expected to be argued down. She leans back on her seat, looking very pleased with herself.

"We're hardly past noon now," Rolin says, leaning on the table with his left arm. "We could probably talk to Bluewater today."

"No, she's right!" Nasree responds quickly. "Let's wait until morning. Because he's old, and...the other stuff she said."

"You just want to get more meals out of her!"

"Nuh-uh!" Nasree looks like she's about to protest, but it takes a few seconds before she can come up with a counter-argument. After a second, she gives a grin that's both half-guilty and half-shameless. "I want a good night's sleep, too."

She turns to Crow. "I'll earn it, though! I heard some old mercenaries in Malleon's Gate talking about Lhazaar pirates. They like any kind of booze, but they really like rum. Everyone in Lhazaar drinks rum."

"I figure Bluewater can afford his own rum," Rolin says. "You think he'd still appreciate the gift? Can't say I've got much experience with how rich folk think."

Nasree thinks she's secured herself a sweetheart deal, but her standards are quite low, even by your standards. She's satisfied with a poor lifestyle, meaning her "three square meals" will cost you 6 copper pieces a day and securing her lodging will cost you 1 silver piece a day, unless you can provide a place for her to stay for free.
 
"Oh don't worry, you will earn it all right." She smiled at the goblin, maybe with a bit more edge than was needed. "We can spend the rest of the day figuring things out and deal with the rest tomorrow. We've had lunch, I don't have any outstanding work that needs doing back at the workshop, so lets head over to Malleon's Gate. See if we can find something that'll wet the Captain's whistle."

She stood, rolling her neck with a crack and clapping her hands together. "Unless he's lost touch with himself, I doubt Bluewater has changed that much. The life of a sailor can be treacherous. They appriciate things more than the typical noble or political figure." She shouldered her satchel and secured it. She liked Narsee, but she didn't totally trust her. Not yet anyhow.

The meals could be covered. And as for lodging, she was gonna share Crow's bed. At least, thats the plan.
 
Nasree grins nervously, not sure how to respond to Crow's statement. Rolin chuckles before getting up from the table. He linked his arm with Crow's before the three headed off to Malleon's Gate. Crow's familiarity with Sharn makes it a quick trip; she can tell Rolin is unfamiliar with these shortcuts, but Nasree seems to know her way around as well.

Sharn was built on the remnants of an older city, which itself was built on an even older goblinoid settlement. Goblinoids have been a part of Sharn before Sharn even existed, as most them live in Malleon's Gate. That history doesn't translate into affluence, however. Like most of Lower Dura, Malleon's Gate is dirty and poor, with only ghostly remnants of earlier, more prosperous years. While Crow and Rolin aren't the only humans in the district, most of the people on the street are goblins, hobgoblins, and the occasional bugbear, along with a sprinkling of more exotic peoples; most of Sharn's "monstrous" immigrants settle in Malleon's Gate, and Crow knows she's entered the district when she sees an ogre and a minotaur posturing at each other in front of a mildly interested crowd. One race that is conspicuously absent are halflings; while Callestan is a battleground between Sharn's criminal organizations, Malleon's Gate is absolutely under the control of Daask, a violent gang of monstrous immigrants from Droaam, and halflings - or anyone associated with the Boromar Clan - would be wise not to come here.
 
"Rolin keep your loose goods protected... and Nasree try and steer us clear of anything you might think would be a threat. I get the feeling we'd lose if a fight broke out here..." Though her words were cautious, her eyes were wide and looking around. How had she not been to this side of Sharn before? Everyone looked so... More. Maybe it was because she was used to dealing with human sized and shaped problems, but this place was facinating in a... It was hard to put into words. She was nervous, but intreged.

She'd like to ask around about Bluewater, and/or find some sort of lead on what he might consider valuable or a good offering.
 
"It's fine, just don't do anything to start a fight," Nasree says, though she is clearly nervous. "Don't put a hand on your weapon, or start shouting, or look anyone straight in the eye, or show your teeth, or do anything, or say anything, or look at anything. Stop. Looking. At. Everything!"

Crow may or may not have been to Malleon's Gate before, but anyone raised in Sharn has at least heard of it. Up to a few years ago, it was mostly just goblinoids, but many monstrous mercenaries decided to settle here after the end of the Last War. Despite Nasree's warnings, there is not actually that much risk of random violence here; most monstrous persons looking for a place to live ended up in Droaam, so the ones who settled in Sharn are mostly those who prefer less violent humanoid society. Old habits die hard, however, and Crow would be wise not to push her luck.

There is relatively little information to be had about Bluewater. Bluewater's home and business are located in Cliffside, as are the sailors that are most likely to deal with him. Crow does manage to find a few former naval mercenaries, but they tell her the same thing she's heard before: he'd probably appreciate a gift of rum. One recommends coconut water to mix with it, but she already seems pretty drunk and is probably just recommending what she, herself, likes.

While they are exploring Malleon's Gate, however, Rolin makes eye contact with a passing hobgoblin. Both slow to a stop, then slowly circle each other. The hobgoblin holds Rolin's gaze with a long, unblinking stare, which Rolin returns. Nasree stops in the street, not even breathing, and watches as the two slowly approach each other. Finally, the hobgoblin's hands snap up and he pounds one fist into his palm, hands in front of his chest.

"Rolin!" he announces. "It has been too long!"

"Gudruun!" Rolin responds with a grin. "I wasn't sure it was you!"

"Returned," Gudruun nods. "You humans look so similar. Except for your arm, that is. I hope you lost it gloriously."

"Yeah," Rolin's natural hand reflexively moves to his right shoulder. "I mean...just doing my duty, is all."

"Are you embarrassed? The strength you lost is repaid in honour. Wear your sacrifice with pride. Your nation owes you deeply."

"Yeah, I wish they thought so," Rolin mutters bitterly. He scowls and takes a deep breath before smiling at Gudruun again. "Hey, you ever hear of a fellow named Tariic? Another veteran, has a hand like my arm?"

"Who hasn't?" Gudruun smirks. "You seek yet more glory, I see. I told you, years ago, the blood of a hobgoblin runs through you. Do you want me to take you to him?"
 
"That would be super helpful." Crow said with a smile. She gave Rolin's arm a reassuring squeeze. She could tell he was more than a little iffy when it came to the arm... Although now that she thought about it she didn't know how he lost it, other than it just being lost to the war.

The idea of hobgoblin blood though made her flush for a moment. She'd heard of how tenacious they were... was Rolin like that? He seemed way to soft but looks could very much be deceiving.
 
Gudruun pauses, looking Crow up and down. "Who is this that presumes to speak for you? She does not look like a warrior."

"It's fine, Gudruun," Rolin says, holding up his left hand with his palm outward. "Lead the way."

The hobboglin nods, then turns and begins walking through the streets of Malleon's Gate with the confidence of someone of someone who's walked these streets a thousand times. As they follow, Rolin smiles sheepishly at Crow, having clearly appreciated her reassurance but also apologetic for Gudruun's behavior.

"Don't worry about him," he says. "It's not personal. That's just how hobgoblins are. I'm glad you'll speak up for me."

Immediately after saying that, his right hand grabs one of Crow's buttcheeks and squeezes. Rolin's smile disappears as he pulls his hand away, linking his arm with Crow's as he had before. Nasree, walking beside the two, gives them both a funny look.

No one gives Gudruun any trouble, and while a couple give Crow and Rolin a second look, no one bothers them either. After several minutes, they reach an aged but well-maintained front set into the stone of a tower. A sign above the door is written in Dwarvish script; Crow can't read it, but it's probably written in Goblin. Gudruun turns to face the trio before addressing Rolin. "You will find Tariic inside. It was good to see you again, Rolin. I must be on my way, but seek me out again. We will have to trade stories of glory!"

"Thanks, Gudruun," Rolin replies. Gudruun pounds a fist into his palm in front of his chest again, then leaves, disappearing into the crowd. Through the open door, Crow can see a grey-haired but fit-looking hobgoblin sweeping the floors of a room, training equipment pushed up against the walls. Metal glints from an artificial hand that appears similar in construction to that of a warforged.
 
"That must be him..." She says to herself, but low enough the present company can hear her. Her eyes glance about the room, taking a few steps in before clearing her throat.

"Um, excuse me? Mr Tariic I pressume? I was hoping I could have a moment of your time to ask you something." Hobgoblins, up close, were much bigger than she expected. And given the current surroundings, she didn't want to anger the man...
 
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