Book 1: Authors cut: the Platform

[Bitom]

Passage is probably the most aptly named city on Khorvaire. Almost all travel through this part of the continent passes through here, passing the massive House Orien complex as it does so. The Lightning rail complex here is massive, used for the repair of coaches, and even, occasionally, the building of engines and binding of their elementals.

There are a lot of people on the platform, because as always, the train is late.

Two Human men who have recently abandoned prestigious jobs stand on the platform in the section reserved for the first class coach. Standing with them are two goblinoids and a warforged. The Big half-orc is easily recognizable to anyone who knows anything about the goings on of Sharn: Grondolian Hearthbagger, known to his criminal associates as 'Grondy' is the head of the TombCrawlers guild, one of the more powerful criminal elements in the giant city. He got where he is by simply surviving longer than anyone above him in the guild. Even so, it's confusing that he came to be in charge. Rumor has it that he's no smarter than your average half-orc thug.

What he's doing here is anybody's guess, but it's likely not legal. Like most of the leaders of the guilds, he maintains an air of respectability, but on Grondy, it doesn't sit well. He looks like the muscle that he was when he joined the guild.

Knowing the orc's identity makes the identity of the other two obvious. Axle the warforged, is Grondy's bodyguard, as if he needs one. The little Goblin is known as Grease, and serves as an assistant and spy to his boss.

OOC

Here's a temporary thread for Trogdor and Shurijo.

Also, I'm assuming that everyone's knowledge: local applies to Sharn, because that's where the game will be, so you've both at least been there before.

[Trogdor]

One of the two human men, the one with short dark hair and light blue eyes, is dressed conservatively in black trousers, a white shirt, a vest of Brelish blue to proclaim his heritage, and a darker blue traveling cloak over it all. He leans against a pillar next to a single bag, and reads a copy of a fairly recent edition of the Sharn Inquisitive. As he folds the paper over to read a new article, his eyes light on the large half-orc, narrow for a moment, then widen. It's a bit far north for a fellow like Grondy, he thinks, but then this is the platform for the train to Sharn. He shakes his head. I wonder what brings him to Passage?

But, after looking for another moment, he shakes his head and returns to his paper. It wasn't wise to offend people like Grondy. And as a prospective new resident of Sharn, he had no intention of crossing the Tombcrawlers Guild. Curiosity was necessary for his chosen profession. But in a case like this, it was also likely to be bad for his health.

[Shurijo]

The other human man looks down at the platform waiting on the Lighting Rail. Appearing a bit distracted, he doesn't seem to have noticed the Grondy or the half-orc's companions.

As he turns to look north along the tracks, hoping that the Lighting Rail is within sight, he tugs his hat down a bit further to cover his brown hair. The young man appears to be in his mid-twenties. His two luggage bags rest along side his feet. It will be a long ride to Sharn, he contemplates.

[Bitom]

Grondy and Grease gripe quietly to each other about the lateness of the train and about House Orien in general, looking to all the world like just a couple of passengers. Axle, as is common among his race, doesn't move or speak... at all.

[Trogdor]

The Brelish man with the paper folds it up and puts it in his pocket. Then he hefts his bag on his shoulder and moves over to the nearest attendant from the Transportation Guild.

"Any word as to when the train is due?" he asks once he finds someone. "Will it be soon, or is there time to grab a bite to eat?"

[Bitom]

The man nods. "Even if it arrived right now, we need to do a check on all the coaches before it leaves again. You have time."

[Trogdor]

The Brelish man nods his head, looks back down the track one more time, shakes his head and moves over to the cafe attached to the station, trying to get a seat where he can see the track. Waiting was all well and good, he thinks. But it was a hell of a lot easier with a nice hot cup of coffee and a good slice of pie - but barring that, he'd take what the station cafe could offer.

[Bitom]

The Brelish diviner manages to split the difference between the pie he wants and the dried meat he's expecting, and manages to buy a respectable meat pie.

As he's returning to his waiting, there is a flash of light as the coach pulls into the station, blazing with electrical discharge.

OOC

closing thread, welcome to the main thread.