View source for Checking Out the Wreck

It's Korday, Vhast 19 10:12:20 1019. The full moon isn't up. The tide is high and ebbing.
Fair weather clouds drift through the blue sky from the west, along with the wind. The sunlight on the snow is dazzling, and it gleams on the ice.

H05: Redridge Mountains
----
High upon the mountain face, a sheer cliff leads to the shoulder of the moutain. Time and weather have worn many cracks into the face of the rock, making assent possible, but no sane person would dare to climb it, certainly not in the dead of winter. But then, [[Munch]] isn't all that sane, and some would argue he's not technically a person. Regardless, the metal [[barbarian]] clings to the stone, exposed to the elements, far from much of anything but a sudden way down. Stubby little wings are tucked tight against his back, the leathery folds rippling in the icy wind.

Approaching from the southwest, a griffon rides the air currents from the southwest, bearing a rider. The winged beast flies near the cliff but while still about 100 meters from the mountain's face, the rider jumps off, falling rather slower than is natural toward the snowy wilderness below. The griffon lands upon the top of the cliff.

Munch pauses, twisting around a little to peer at this new development. After a moment, the metal man shoves off from the cliff, and plummets downward a fair distance before his stubby little wings snap outward. Far too small to be of any use, the wings spread and stretch, flowing like warm rubber, grabbing at the air and slowing the fall to a mere drift... only to finally rip and shred, the stress too much to endure, and the metal man freefalls again... the last few feet, landing with little more than a thump and a look around. His wings retract, the bones and support arch shrinking back to their orginal size, flapping a little to shake off the last of the shredded membrane, a new layer already starting to regenerate. "Oy! Where'd ya go? Can't see in all this shrubbery!"

Hearing and seeing Munch from the place where he struck the ground, [[Ga'Elian Faravanilas|Ga'Elian]] blows a trio of quick notes on his hunting horn to indicate his whereabouts. He is standing next to the badly broken corpse of a dwarf, who had evidently smacked hard. Laying around are various broken pieces of the wagon... the seat here, a wheel there. The elf calls out, "Good day, Munch. I'm trying to figure some things out about this. Wanna give me a hand?"

Munch trots closer, slowing and picking his way more carefully upon noticing there's things to be careful about. "Sure, I was getting bored climbing. Looks messy, but kinda obvious. He a friend of yours, or something?"

Ga'Elian replies, "No, indeed. I found this wreckage yesterday while I was riding Erithamiel aloft. When I came to look into it, I found a curious box just over there." He points. "It was clicking and whirring, and the writing on it was glowing. So, I went to look at it. I don't know the ancient tongue, but I could discern that the writing was in Kulthian. Just underneath it was a wooden crate that looked fairly plain on the outside, but was padded inside, as if made specifically to contain and conceal this fancy box. Knowing that the ancient Kulthians had wrought devastation with their ambition and craft, I regarded the box as significant, if potentially dangerous, and so determined to make haste to bring it to someone who could deal with it properly. Accordingly, I flew it straight to the Artificers Hall in the City, where a the head of Kulthian Studies, one Professor Argus Bumblebottom, agreed to investigate the box itself. He asked me to return here and see what I could discover of its origin and destination." He looks again at the dead dwarf, and says, "I'm just surprised that this fellow wasn't eaten by wild scavengers in the meantime."

Munch mmmms. "Kulthian isn't that rare. Most artificers speak at least some. Might be some tinker's pet project. But, might be something serious. Glowing words tend to be important stuff." Stepping carefully over to the body, the metal man leans close, magicicite eyes clicking softly as his face splits open a slit, a long black tongue flicking out to taste the air. "Cold and wet out, most scavengers are holed up. But ruckus would have attracted attention of -something-, would think."

GAME: Munch rolls perception: (19)+17: 36

 <OOC> Ga'Elian says, "Looking for anything specific?"

 <OOC> Munch says, "Poison is what springs to mind, would ward critters away. Or any sort of chemical taint. Drunkeness, stoned, whatever. But generally just see what's to be seen. Entirely possible I know the guy. Not likely, but possible."

 <OOC> Ga'Elian says, "Got it. You've never seen him before, and he doesn't appear to have been chemically tainted. He did soil himself, as is entirely likely when one goes plunging over an icy cliff in the pre-dawn hours to one's own death. Mostly he just looks... smashed--literally. He appears to be approaching middle age, and was a storm dwarf. Looking through his pockets, etc, shows no signs of artifice or the paraphernalia of it, but there is a sheet of vellum with neatly calligraphed writing giving directions to a certain warehouse in Alexandria, and a name, '''Huldith'''."

Munch pokes carefully fora few moments, rather more respectful of the recently departed than certain rumors would suggest. "Come to think of it, that box to mentioned might have scared animals away. Any case, looks like we have a clue. You happen to know a 'Huldith'?"

Ga'Elian walks around looking around at the wreckage and the surrounding environment. "I think anything to be found out will likely be upon his person. I don't see any other parcels, and the wagon bits seem to be nothing but, well, wagon bits, but this board has Dwarvish runes on it. Do you read Khazahd?"

Ga'Elian shakes his head. "Sounds like either a Khazad, Gnomish, or Aesir name if I had to hazard a guess." He brings the rune-marked board with him to look at what Munch has discovered.

Munch says, "Nah. Kulthian and Draconic. Thought of picking up dwarf-speak, pretty sure some of my components are from [[Dun Mordren]], but never got around to it. So got a possible source, and maybe a destination. Figure can head there and ask, find some info. Maybe a secret cult and a deadly ambush! ....I've been bored recently."

Ga'Elian nods. "Good, that's what I came back here for. If there is something sinister, maybe we will find it. I'm going to take a moment to see if I can make any sense of these runes, then." He holds the board in front of him and studies it for a moment, then glances around at the remaining shards of wood.

GAME: Ga'Elian rolls Linguistics: (20)+5: 25

Ga'Elian says, "Well, I don't know Khazadi names, but I think this rune means something to do with commerce or business." I think a visit to this warehouse is probably the next step. Thanks for your help."

Munch nods. "Not a problem. Be happy to head with you to this warehouse. If is any trouble, are few in the city better able to deal with it. I can't say as I really expect trouble, but sorta hope."

Ga'Elian grins, "If you were biological, I'd accuse you of being an adrenaline junkie. Sounds good, my friend. Let's go see what the deal with this 'Huldith' is, shall we?" He turns away and sounds a long blast on his hunting horn, which is soon afterwards answered by a screech from overhead. The griffon comes into view, spiraling gracefully closer. As it descends, Ga'Elian says, I suppose we should bring the body to the authorities. Don't you? I can lay him behind me on Erithamiel's back."

Munch nods. "Was about to ask your plan. You head to the Watch, I'll jog straight to the docks district, figure we'll meet up about the same time. Unless you think Erithamiel can lug all three of us."

Ga'Elian watches as the griffon touches down and shakes out his feathers. He replies, "It'd be slow going, especially in this terrain, but he probably ''could''. But airborne, I don't think he could gain altitude with such a burden, even if I magically strengthened his wings. No, I'll meet you there after delivering the body."

[[Category:Logs]]