RP:The Iron Sun Debriefing
Summary:
In response to a bulletin offering a bounty for the return of the missing leader of the Iron Suns, a gathering of ragtag heroes gathers at the Garrison Outpost to volunteer their services. Among these makeshift heroes is a hexblade with an eye on the prize, and a traveler with a heavy conscience.
Garrison Outpost
Built upon and into the southern face of the plateau, and overlooking the heart of the city of Rynvale proper as well as its merchant tradespaths, is the Garrison Outpost. Visible enough to have become a new landmark on the island, a series of towers run along the top edge of the cliff face creating the illusion of the prongs upon a crown. The entire rocky formation itself is a fortress. From each tower, a high powered polybolos keeps vigilant gaze upon the island and each of its coast lines. Encircling the shaft of each structure in a spiral formation are seemingly endless murder-holes from which smaller ballistae and crossbowmen can fire. Not a patch of land around the outpost is susceptible from an enemy that cannot be fired upon. At the base of each defensive bastion awaits a gate that leads into the intricate network of tunnels, barracks and weapons storage facilities that are hidden beneath the barren wasteland of the plateau, as well as access to the observatory viewing platform built into the southern cliff face. Each entry way, however, is defended from attack by the guards inside each adjacent tower as well as from those directly within. These ivory stone sentinels serve as beacons of hope to the inhabitants of Rynvale. Never again will the forces of darkness find their island home to be easy prey.
The outpost has seen much since the days of its original construction under the Fold. A former waystop to stop the forces of the Empire under control of the Parasite by the name of Vuryal, its purpose had waned in intervening years. The Fold's quiet collapse saw it turned derelict, the walls beginning the slow decline that befalls all stonework. The war machines rotted and the stores were plundered. A second invasion saw a renewed need for this fortress, but none stepped forward...that was, of course, until the Iron Suns laid claim. Mercenary by nature, founded by the rune smith, it swiftly whipped the outpost into shape again. The walls were repaired and renewed, the polybolos stripped and new designs put in their place. Over the walls hung, proudly, tapestries that claimed the Iron Sun's symbol: that of a stylized image of Sol, the solar arms replaced with the workings of a cog. The great entryway laid open, though guarded, allowing a view of the insides of the fort. But before a glimpse could be caught a pair of guards forbid entry until intent was declared. Mere curiosity seekers were turned away. The outpost was not for those seeking only to satisfy long standing bets or hopefuls looking for an easy job or pickings. Those that sought the bounty staked by the company were admitted inwards deeper, halted again by another company member. Not a guard, this time, but perhaps worse: a clerk. All sorts of information was requested. Name, origin, experience, outfit, gear, and any exceptional abilities magical or mundane. There was an enormous amount of grumbling at this from those that were filing through. Some suspicions that a certain 'iron handed bastard' was just trying to spy were met with a sputtering insistence that the information granted was merely to allow those seeking to assist to be directed to the paths that may be more fruitful. Whether truth or fiction, the questions seemed to be a good deal shorter thereafter, speeding the process for many after. Once through the hurdles the courtyard was finally opened to the adventuring seekers. Unlike what one might expect from a mercantile outfit, there was a great deal less of the men at idle about. While some games of dice or drinking were about, the clusters were small and few at it, if any, wore the sigil of the Iron Sun. Most of the people milling about were wildly different in their gear and in some case, species. All seekers for the monstrous bounty offered for the head, safe and sound, of a certain smith. Outnumbered, the members of the company were on edge. Most tended to their gear or other busy work, and the air was tense. For now, everyone was behaving. Over time, groups of people, seemingly random in their collection, were called up and ushered deeper into the outpost, coming out again after some minutes.
Quintessa was riding atop her faithful, yet highly aggressive, mount, Bloodbeak. Eight inch talons dug into the earth as the armoured bird stalked through the landscape, his rider's mismatched eyes scanning the forest, trying to avoid the feral dragons that roamed north of the port town. There had to be some clue out here to the whereabouts of this missing Ranok, after all, Quintessa's research told her that he was something of a guardian of this island and no guardian would have dealings out here without some sort of evidence of their existence. Even her best friend/rival Karasu had let slip that an expert runesmith lived out here last time the Mage's Guild had business in the foggy forest, and the changeling was certain that she was talking about none other than the abnormal human, Ranok of Rynvale. It didn't take long for the hex blade to catch wind of the Iron Suns and the location of their fort, and the Golden Cockatrice she rode soon came into view of the guards stationed within. "Yes, I'm here for the bounty, let me through!" Yelled the strange girl as she dismounted her three meter tall bird. Quintessa hated administrators and clerks alike, and her frustration is clear as she glared and gnashed her teeth at them when they grilled her for information. "This is what I have!" She showed them her weapons, her mundane katana and twin darksteel daggers and she explained that the cloak she wore was an invisibility cloak. She told them several times that she was Arh'Nuk's chosen and that she was a recognized member of both the Mage's Guild and the Necromancer's Guild. "I am Magister's Daath's apprentice!" She grumbled, "I hold the keys to House Dragana and all of Larewen's collected knowledge! I'm not some tourist looking to make an easy gold piece!" The changeling might of had a terrible attitude, but she was serious about this job and wasn't here to muck about with pencil pushers.
Kanna clutches her transcribed copy of the bulletin sent out across Lithrydel and Rynvale. For weeks after it was first announced that the runesmith had gone missing, she had debated whether it was worth her energy to seek him out. Their last meeting had not ended well, yet she was concerned. The bardess is an unusual sight as she approaches the garrison, accompanied by a wolf that is nearly her own size. Curiosity had always been her vice, and it was present again by her appearance. If there was something she could do to assist, then perhaps she could be of assistance. "Please wait for me here. I don't think I'll be long." She asks of her companion. The russet wolf seems to understand her request, and trots off to a distance where a feathered steed is stationed. The golden companion ruffles its feathers defensively as Amante approaches, but Amante pays it no mind. The wolf sits back on its haunches unceremoniously and looks back at the bard. Kanna takes a breath and presents herself to the guards before the entrance. "My name is Kanna. Traveling bardess. I was in contact with the man mentioned in this bulletin around the time this says he disappeared. If possible, I can lead you to that place. The ruins are hidden inside the forest outside of Vhys." The colorful woman is let through and brought before the clerk. "Weaponry?" She tilts her head and flashes a flirtatious smile. "I don't really think I need weaponry, seeing as I've already snared you. Didn't you notice?" At some point while she spoke, vines had snaked from the earth and through the cracks of the stone floor, coiling around the clerk without touching him. She lays out the musical instruments in her bag, along with one dagger. "I'm a bard, you see, but I have a curious relationship with the plants." The yelling draws her attention to another room where the hexblade is demanding access. "Tessa, you're here as well?" Kanna blinks before a grin stretches across her freckled face, the first since arriving on the island.
The clerk was of that tranquil sort that was equally at home among a hundred books and ledgers as they were being a bureaucratic pain in the ass. Quintessa's rant doesn't even cause him to raise an eyebrow, but each remark earned itself a frightfully quickly written entry in the book. "Noted, ma'am. The beast must stay outside, if you please. Stables are to the left of the gate." Once her golden mother clucker is squared away, Quintessa could join the courtyard unaccosted by most there in. Despite the collection of toughs, it seems the creepy aura she gave off afforded her own space. That was, at least, until she was joined by Kanna. Amante was given the same treatment, though the russet wolf earned a few looks. Some of the members remembered a certain fire and singed smith that returned from it some time ago...but no. Surely coincidence. As Quin and Kanna mingle, other members waiting drift by. A great many fortune seekers had, at least, made the venture to the island to try their luck. Some were attempting to poke around, whether to dig up clues or to get into mischief was difficult to tell. More then one Iron Sun was being subjected to endless questions, grousing, or a mixture of both, contributing to a sort of slow boiling chaos in the courtyard. Of note were the ones keeping still or to themselves, showing a small hint of discipline or patience that would likely see them further. A small group of humans, a tall and wiry looking draconian, a half orc, a willowy elf, and a human wearing a black leather jacket. The latter seemed to be an adventurer for all the most he stuck out, but not when he turned his back. The jacket carried the sigil of the Iron Sun, showing him to be an unusual member. Blond, cocksure, and hair greased, the moment the man lays eyes on Kanna a comb materializes in his hand to slick back already flawless hair, a grin already growing on his face before a hand from another company member materializes equally as fast. The conversation is difficult to hear over the general mull of the crowd, but the words, "Keep it in your pants, Johnny." can be heard. The grin disappears and professionalism returns to the human man and he turns, with great reluctance and a flashed wink at Kanna, back to work. In time, the doors open on the outpost and out comes a guard. Out loud, he reads off a series of names, "Kessien Craggen. Quintessa. Kanna Tsuji. Dragall Atodash. The...Mysterious Stranger?" The guard scratches his stubble as a typical rogue type unpeels from the shadowy corner and files up. Following are the draconian, who clutches a slender spear, and the half orc.
Quintessa was annoyed but she wasn't violent. Yet. At least the staff here felt some sort of reprieve from the wrath of the strange girl while she was distracted by Kanna, the pretty bard she could just gush over all day long. "Of course," She said to her with a flip of her hair, "If there's adventure and excitement to be found, you know my pale little fingers will be all over it," She laughed loud and creepily, probably causing a chill to run down the spines of some here. It isn't until they start calling role does the hex blade become foul tempered again. "Quintessa of Black Pond," She corrected, breaking away from the friendly conversation with her friend, Kanna. The changeling couldn't help daydream about Kaaname whenever she spoke to her or her half-sister these days, but daydreams are quickly cast aside as annoyance took hold once again. "Hold on a moment, Mysterious Stranger?" Mismatched eyes glared daggers into the roguish fellow, "We were allowed to use pseudonyms?" It was far too late for that now and she forgets all about the cool names she had been thinking up. The hex blade moved forward but didn't stray too far from Kanna. Bards complemented her fighting style nicely and she knew that the human girl would make an excellent ally for this new quest she had accepted. Everyone else here was regarded with suspicion by Quintessa, but she didn't pay them much mind she just wanted to hear the details about this job.
Kanna smiles sweetly at the overly greased man when he flirts, and immediately resumes a neutral face when he turns away to resume whatever it is he's doing. A cute face only gets her so far, but keeping up a charade for the opportunity to pickpocket a few gold from men who can never hold their liquor makes her attuned to exactly the type of person the clearly arrogant man is. When she is called, her eyebrow raises. "I don't have a surname." She corrects, though it is poised as more of a question. Part of her is surprised that she was actually selected for the task. Thinking back, doubting herself seems like exactly the sort of thing Ranok would have scolded her for, even though he knew nothing about the bardess. Cornflower eyes peek out from under her fringe and examine the others called out one by one, giving them a mental evaluation not by their possible usefulness in battle, but of their possible threat to her. So long as her lupine companion could come with, she felt rather safe around most of these people. Quintessa surprisingly seemed like the safest person to stay close to, along with the draconian. The so-called rogue could pose a problem. Kanna had dealt with enough to know she wasn't fond of surprises from strangers.
"I'm thinkin' he's actually called 'Mysterious Stranger', cuz I sure 'n hell was asked a buncha questions." Unprompted, and in response to Quin's grumbling, the draconian offers his opinion. Tall and wiry, and possessed with a lithe grace, the frame of the draconian is one more of agility then it is of brute strength. Eyes of amber, slit like a reptile's, sharp and calculating, peer from a young face. Red scales are scattered across his body, concentrated on the cheekbones and spreading down the neck. Two wings as long as his body sprout from his shoulder blades and are generally kept tight to his body so as not to knock things about as he moves. Currently clad in a splint mail chest piece and toughened leathers elsewhere, it's obvious the man values his flexibility over flat defense. He wasn't sticking around for conversation, though, as he joins the others at filing into the outpost. A set of stairs, a hallway, and one more door admits the small group into an office covered in maps. Standing behind a desk, which held a heavily annoted map filled with cryptic markings, stands an older woman. With her hair of blonde, with strands of silver in it, her face was set stern and there was an air of authority. On her hip sits a wickedly sharp curved blade, though she currently wore no armor. When everyone has filed into the room, she waits for them to settle like a school teacher over an unruly class. When they have, she speaks, "Greetings. My name is Alis Bryndle. I am what currently passes for the leadership in the Iron Suns, given current circumstances, and it was my choice to post the bounty that brought you all here." Her hands come out from behind her back in the parade rest she'd be standing in, adjusting a small token sitting on the map before you, "As you all know, a man critical to my operations has gone missing. One Ranok of Rynvale. I've allowed assembly here to offer what limited information we have to facilitate a smoother return. But first." Each person in the room is fixed with a stern look, "While I have no ultimate authority over any of you, I will warn you that this is no game, and it is no competition. The reward will be offered to any that contribute notably. Infighting will not be tolerated." Perhaps it had not struck any in the room, but the sum offered was quite large. Enough to kill over. At once, not everyone in the room is entirely comfortable with the others so close, but Alis continues, "That being said, I will begin." She bends over the map and allows the rest to do so, and she lays out the information. The last time he'd been seen, having been well over a year ago. Lists of known haunts, locations he frequented, worked on, or may have had association with. The list was extensive, and few offered tantalizing possibilities. She does pause and warn against visiting his home, noting that the last group that tried have yet to be seen again. As she returns to the map, the draconian speaks up, "What about those plains south of Cenril? Anythin' there?" This forces Alis to stop and regard the draconian, a long pause, and a confused expression on her face. Finally she says, "No. Don't be daft. There is nothing of interest there. Simply because he was desert born does not mean he's gone there. Search the bloody thing if you want, though." She moves the conversation on, but the draconian's expression...Quintessa, being the closest to him, would see. The man seems to think he knows something the rest don't, but having been reprimanded, wasn't going to offer anything else.
Quintessa gave a sharp-toothed grin to the draconian as he spoke to her, "Eh, well, I've heard of stranger things than that... Um, what was your name? Dragall Atodash? Or were you Kessien Craggen, I wasn't paying any attention." When the group filed into the room, the hex blade felt a sense of familiarity. Gathered in the war room, discussing the details of the mission. This felt a lot like working for the Mage's Guild, except a bit more organized. Sometimes it felt as though the guild didn't have any leadership at all. At least the Iron Suns seemed to have a goal and a reasonable way to achieve it. Tessa couldn't help but grow more excited to more the woman spoke. A quick glance was given around the room as Alis warned that infighting wouldn't be tolerated. "Then we work together," the hex blade muttered, "Honestly, the more hands we have pulling the great chain of progress, the better." Mismatched eyes would become locked on the Draconian once more, her brows furrowing as she considered what he had said. In a hushed tone, Quintessa addressed the spear-wielder while Alis still spoke. "Hey," She said to him, nudging him with her elbow, "Come speak to me later. I'm not ready to rule out southern plains yet, and I think we could help one another." She would of course relay anything she learned from him to Kanna, the only person she trusted in the room.
Kanna is ushered into the room with little fanfare, except a visible discomfort at being cramped into such close quarters. Her eyes travel from map to map, making mental note of the markings on some, and attempting to mentally cross reference them to events she has overheard happening while traveling. She examines the map with a suddenly serious expression. The bounty was tantalizing in itself, but Kanna knew how to survive without. The fiasco in Frostmaw had been a cruel reminder that money would never be worth risking her life for. "Wait. There's ruins out in the Nameless Desert." She interjects, reaching into her rucksack and withdrawing a sand-colored leather booklet. Of course she keeps her notes color coordinated by defining geographical characteristic, doesn't everyone? Opening to a page of incomprehensibly tiny letters, she reviews. "There is legend of ruins of an ancient elven-human city existing at the southernmost point of the desert. Multiple cultures, long before international trade routes were established, also share a piece of lore regarding a palace hidden in the desert. From what little I know about him, Ranok is a man of eccentricities. Doesn't that seem exactly like something he would go off to investigate, especially if there was a chance of him finding lost technologies out there?" Her eyes travel up to meet that of the leader of the search. Realizing she might have overstepped a little too late, she lowers her head and pockets the book of notes, suddenly full of that self-doubt that plagues her so. "I guess... that's just my take on the matter. Apologies."
Quin's feeling seems to be fairly uncommon. The half orc was fingering the haft of his greataxe while eying the others. Mysterious Stranger had, somehow, managed to find a shadowed corner and was broodily muttering to himself. The draconian was shuffling a little nervously, mixed between glances at the others, then back to Alis. Kanna's mention of the desert causes his face to twist, and it was clear he regretted mentioning it at all. Whether it was from embarrassment or something more was hard to say. Alis herself barely keeps her annoyance from her tone, "As I said, you can look in the sands if you want to. This is by no means a list of orders. What you do when you leave this room is entirely of your choice. Now if you'll allow me to finish?" Terse, hands upon the map, her look dared further interruption. The rest of the information dump goes smoothly enough, and Alis wraps it up with, "I have second thoughts about this, but have you any questions?" She waits, a long pause, then, the half orc speaks up, "How do you guys know he's still alive? Been gone awhile. Maybe he's just dead in a ditch." Alis' lips purse, but the question was valid. She straightens, arms returning to parade rest, "The reasoning is more then I can reveal here, but the Runesmith has been known to create failsafes. Even the release of a will from some lockbox has not happened. Those of us that know him cannot imagine there is no 'and then'. There are other reasons, but those are classified. Next." Mysterious Stranger speaks, his voice oozing, "And if he is....returned not quite as you left him...?" The woman shoots him a deadly look, "Then you might want to reconsider your values and whether it's wise to damage the goods if you want your reward." Her tone, and the fatigue of having this conversation multiple times over the course of the day are taking their toll on the soldier, and her attitude was not exactly forthcoming for more questions. Unless Quintessa or Kanna had anything to add, the group would be allowed to file out so the next could come in, more rivals to that ultimate prize.
Quintessa didn't have anything else to ask or add, but the idea of dredging through the hot sands of the nameless desert was looming on her mind quite unpleasantly. She had the information she needed and would collaborate with Kanna later to discuss the next course of action. It wasn't likely that brooding rouges or crude axmen would be of much use to her, so they would be ignored unless they had something else to say. The draconian might be useful, but she didn't like the way he shut up when the idea of traveling to the desert was brought up again. Either way, the hex blade has the information and the permission she needs to get started and she already had a few things in mind she would need to research once returning to Xalious. This mission, though, she would keep a secret from her guildmates for now. If nothing else happened, the changeling exited with the others.