Book 1: Murder on the Lightning Rail

[Bitom]

Thaliost wasn't always the end of the Line for the Lightning rail. The White Arch bridge used to span Scions sound and link the Eastern and Western halves of the rail. But no longer. Thaliost wasn't always part of Thrane, either, and its Aundairan roots are apparent in every building and every face.

A small group from Karrnath disembarks from a House Orien coach. They were on a similar House Orien barge before that, and soon they will climb aboard the Hose Orien lightning rail. Three of the five are persons of some import. Two halflings are members of House Jorasco, being sent far south to the Sharn to take on various tasks for the house. Alain Wythbone is the senior of the two, being sent to take over the running of the large Jorasco hospital in Sharn. The Younger one, Cedric Toes-of-Gold is on a more vague public service mission. Standing taller than the Jorasco halflings is Grael Silkwood, a diplomat. He is being sent to take over ambassadorial duties in the far-away city of Sharn. The two unimportant members of the group are his servants. One, a stoic, silent warforged who goes by "brace" is obviously a bodyguard. The other, a Gnome woman named Thallin, has less obvious duties.

The coach has already arrived, and House Orien workers are doing the business of getting it reversed on its track of conductor stones. Soon, it will be ready to board for a long trip.

OOC

Welcome od to the game, this first section will move along pretty quickly as the lightning rail stops and picks up each PC (and a bunch of NPC's) in turn.

[od]

Cedric tosses his long black hair back and wraps a leather thong around it binding it into place. Taking a second cord of linen for decoration he steps onto the train with an odd air about him, as though he's heading to a King's throne to spit in his face. The defiance is palatable as he heads down the aisle to his seat, and takes it. Looking out he window like a prison leaving jail, his eyes look at the landscape with utter disinterest. The iron in his spine seems to melt away as his backside hits the cushioned seat and he leans back sinking into it comfortably. His odd hat, rounded with a thin rim drifts over his eyes and his intention to sleep is clear. As the other halfling heads into the cabin across from him his brow furrows enough to raise the lip of the hat and make eye contact with the one across from him. He grins for a second at the scowl for his un-houselike bearing and sends a sly wink the way of his forced traveling companion before sliding his door shut and seemingly drifting off.

Moment later he stands and heads off in search of the dining car to see what kind of women are making the journey and hopefully grab a nip of snuff.

[Bitom]

The other two spend most of their time conversing together and trying not to involve themselves with Cedric. Thallin questions him briefly about his trip, his plans, and his life, but it doesn't turn into much of a conversation before she is called away and sent on some errend for her boss. When she returns from the errand, she seems to have lost interest in speaking with Cedric. Or more likely, she was told not to. During the entire 20 hour to Fairhaven, Brace does not speak once.

[od]

Cedric spends his time fraternizing with the other folks on the train primary, rarely rubbing elbows with the other high breeds. He drinks and plays dice or cards with whomever he can convince to have fun with him, and he is constantly on the prowl for female companionship. He never mentions his house, and his dragonmark is rarely shown just occasionally noticed. All in all he simply enjoys himself, reveling in both the freedom and the experience, treating what many would consider a boring trip as a vacation.

[Bitom]

The rail pulls into Fairhaven and comes to a rest there. Many of the passengers from the first class coach Depart for the Aundairan capital, but none of the Karrnathi passengers disembark.

Two men get on board and stow their gear in their cabins. Both are clearly Cyran by feature and bearing, and both also appear to be soldiers. One of them, a blond-haired man with large shoulders and an easy smile makes his way immediately to the dining car.

OOC

Welcome Vardaen to the game as the other Cyran.

[Vardaen]

The other Cyran that boards carries little in the way of gear, for travel, combat, academy studies, or otherwise. He is dressed in a simple tunic of brown and gray, with no disernable heraldy on it. His belt is worn, his boots muddy, and the hem of his pants are frayed. Its clear he's seen much better days, but there is a spring in his step and his coin purse hangs heavy on his belt, a hand always nearby it. Tucked under one arm is a copy of the Korrenberg Chronicle, a few days old, and free off the Rail Platfrom having been discarded by someone a few days ago. He has all the features of those men from Cyran on his face, the gray eyes, the dark hair, and the look of pain that never seems to leave them ever since the Day of Mourning. He walks with a cane, an ivory headed carved crane sports a handle in the shape of a Displacer Beast, the tentacles of the creature hanging down and huggin the rare wood shaft of the walking cane. In haling deeply he checks in with the ticket taker and then heads to the dining car to get himself something to eat, and someone to talk to. His gait is that of a military man.

[od]

Cedric eyes the newcomer as he enters the dining car, with feigned disinterest. The cane however, and the purse match their bearer like plaid and polka dots. He mulls over whether he cares enough to ask the bloak when he realizes what time of day it is. Glancing around he comes to terms with the fact that the only empty seat in the car is at his table. His disinterest turns almost immediately to matter of fact not give a shitness in a heart beat, his odd hat slipping down his head as he leans back.

[Vardaen]

Denamere pauses at the door of the car and looks around. His eyes light on the only truely open seat in the car, right next to Cedric. Wonderful, 24 cars and the only seat is next to a blasted halfling. He makes his way down the car, his cane *clip*clop* on the wood panneled floor. He pauses at the seat and smiles, "I believe this seat is mine." He flurishes with his newspaper pointing at the seat.

[od]

Cedric pushes his hat up and looks at the human raising an eyebrow. "I doubt your ticket mentions what table you eat at friend...but as its the only sit here you're welcome to use it."

OOC

It's just a table in the dining car (I put myself where you said you were headed), not our actual seats. I'm up in the fancy pants area. : P

[Vardaen]

OOC

Yeah I spoke to Bit

"It wasn't a question." He takes a seat across from the halfling at the only table in the dining car with any space. He flags down one of the House Jallanda serving girls, to order. "Do you happen to have any Cyran spirits?" He orders anything they might have that was made in Cyre before its fall, if not then just a Breland Whiskey, "And something to eat, fresh catch of the day will do, no shellfish however." He unfolds the Korrenberg Chronicle on the table, and leafs through it, hanging his crane on a post on the side of car between the windows.

OOC

The Chronicle...if that's ok Bitom.

http://www.dicefellowship.org/~vardaen/ ... ssue1f.pdf