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[retromach]

Hel-Shredder didn't see his clothes. Oboe music filled his ears, and he and much of the crowd were becoming entranced. Soon enough, he'd find his mind wandering away, forgetting anything was wrong, he knew. He couldn't tell who anyone was behind their masks, but there was food, and wine, and no one seemed frightened or ill at ease.


Sormias linked arms with the half-elf gentleman, and joined him for the evening. He spoke little of Aundair or it's political concerns unless she asked him, largely taking her to meet with other associates.

The first was an Aundairian merchant named Jurian Valleau. "What enchanting company you've found, Ambassador." He said, before introducing himself.

[Trissy-Tama]

[Redacted at Request]

[Weirdsound]

Mr. Shredder gives himself to the music, but as he does so, his remaining cohearent thoughts drift to it's magical nature. What could be the source of this enchantment?

(Arcane Disadvantage = 11)

[retromach]

Jurian Valleau, she discovered, provided the alchemical pigments that had gone into the creation of As Above, one of the paintings you'd been looking at earlier. He dealt with a manufacturer in Aundair, and imported paints here to Sharn. He was charmed by her wit and impressed to learn she was an aspiring artist. He spent most of the evening chatting with Sanho, of course, about matters related to shipping along the Dagger River, requesting some diplomatic intervention, but Sormias was encouraged to visit his shop when she had the chance.

Sanho agreed to see to it, and took Sormias on to their next meeting. A dwarven woman with thickly braided hair tied in glammerweave ribbons that made her hair seem like it was made of threads of gold. Her outfit shimmered like a jewel as she moved, and around her neck she wore an enormous necklace of gold and lapis lazuli that was certainly a religious icon of some kind. She was introduced to you as Annika Brishnon, Cleric of Kol Korran.

"I see the Sovereign of World and Wealth has facilitated a very fruitful exchange for you tonight, Sanho." She teased him.


Mr. Shredder was sure it was some kind of a Bard thing.

[Weirdsound]

Hel-Shredder continues to enjoy the music, before eventually making his way over to where the wine is kept and trying to figure out how to drink through his mask, the thought of removing it so that he may imbibe unhindered not even entering his head at the moment.

[retromach]

Hel-Shredder Rippedspleens doesn't really recall what happened from there. Only brief hints and suspicions that it may have been deeply personal. He awoke in his own bed, thinking, for a time, that it must have been a dream.

If asked, the staff inform him that he arrived, unconscious, on an airskiff that had been pre-paid, and he was carried to his room. No one had asked the name of the airskiff driver. He'd arrived dressed in his clothes, with his painting in a large scroll tube. He still had the mask, as if to remember the occasion by.

Curiously, as unsettled as he was, he also felt very relaxed, and at peace. He gains Inspiration.

[Trissy-Tama]

[Redacted at Request]

[retromach]

She laughed warmly and jovially. "Vassal Brishnon, servant of the Sovereigns." She corrected. "Kol Korran, if you want to get specific. You must be new to Galifar. The nobility here all have 'tir' or 'ir' at the start of their names. But by all means call me Annika, unless you're here to ask my blessing for Sanho's latest acquisition." She joked warmly.

"Where ever did you find her, anyway, Sanho?" She inquired. "She's not human, by the look of her." She looked Sormias up and down.

[Trissy-Tama]

[Redacted at Request]

[Weirdsound]

"You fucking blew it, YOU WORTHLESS SACK OF GOBLINDUNG!" Hel-Shredder roars loud enough to be heard in the neighboring rooms. He blew all that money to try and get in close with a faction, and all he had to show for it was an expensive painting, a mysterious mask, and likely a shattered friendship with the Abberation who was his date to the party.

---

After clearing his head, Mr. Shredder settles back in to working at his office, helping the house prepare for the next voyage of the Astral Kraken. He is perhaps a bit more mean than usual towards the interns, desk jockies, and dock workers who he views as below him out of frustration, but still manages to keep up his chummy demeanor towards those co-workers deemed worthy of his time.

He spends nearly as much time palling around the office with various elves and half elves, practicing their language, as he does actually working. Since Shredder is a dutiful, diligent, and loyal employee of House Lyrandar, he is careful to deduct this non-productive time from his own pay.

10 Days working as a House Agent (+1g)
7 Days practicing language (11/49)

[retromach]

Mr Shredder spends the week resolving a trade dispute with Aundair. It seems that certain trade lines were falling into disrepair as House Lyrandar headhunters were recruiting the bulk of seasoned river sailors. The house had been expanding as it's best professionals were finding new work on airships, leaving elemental galleons understaffed. More primitive, non-dragonmarked shipping companies were struggling, and a headhunters tariff was being considered. Fortunately, he was able to negotiate it away by promising a trio of newly commissioned airships to Aundairan routes.


Sormias spoke for a while about arriving in Sharn from another place, captivating a small audience. After it was concluded, she was urged to visit Annika if she ever needed a business venture properly blessed. She and Sanho ir'Lain retired to a diplomatic residence for the night. The next morning, she left with twenty galifars.

[Trissy-Tama]

[Redacted at Request]

[Cynicalwhovian]

Stella would give a glance to the mother before changing the subject. She would usually explain to someone, but the girl was unlikely to understand at this age. Maybe she would share more when the girl grew, if they remained in contact. "How much longer can you stay in this region?"

[retromach]

The crowd roared. A barker shouted to them. "Good evening ladies and gentlefolk! Tonight, we have Atil the Devourer, The Rage of Fallen Cyre. Fought for Cyre in the war, fights for coin today. See the Amazing Atil face off against last week's champion, Baron Thul!" A barker called. Mud-soaked rainwater fell and dripped from drains in the ceiling above, and into the gutters here, filling the air with hot and humid air. Here, among abandoned warehouses, criminals and the destitute bid scraps of silver over fights. Stadium seating ran up the slanted roof of a nearby warehouse that extended up into Middle Tavick's Landing. People cheered, and roared.

Atil gazed to his opponent. A haggard man, wrinkled, mixed with grey hair. He had a hook hand, and wore a mud-stained, torn Karrnathi flag over one shoulder. He looked like he'd been living in the cogs, from his rough skin, health and pallor. Atil could see from his posture and build that he'd seen military service. He could tell from the scars on his body he'd been pitfighting professionally down here. He gauged his style, focused on powerful jabs, and stomping feet. The stranger looked back, seeing only teeth.

Of course, biting wasn't permitted in this arena. It wasn't a fight to the death, it was a capitulation fight, no holds allowed. It left broken bones and bruised ribs, maybe the occasional concussion, but little more. It gave him no clue as to Atil's style.

[Wisdom/Perception 16]

The announcer moved away as the cheering subsided. An old rail engine bell rang, and the fight began. Atil's opponent was faster than he was, moving in with a quick forward punch, landing a series of blows, evading the first of Atil's strikes.

The two of them danced around, the fight wearing on. Atil, wary of the human's style, blocked reliably. He scored a few small hit before the railyard bell rang again, marking the two minute mark. The loser had now earned a share of the gate, whoever that would find up being. For now, the fighters seemed evenly matched, Atil's eye matching the Baron's

[Dex/Acrobatics 8]

Finally, Atil found his opening. His opponent came in to stomp in the side of his knee, having rushed up behind him. Atil grabbed the off balance man and hurled him to the ground. The crowd roared as the man's eyes widened. He scurried quickly to his feet, backed into a corner as Atil approached.

[Strength/Athletics 23]

How will Atil end the fight?

[retromach]

"We've still a little bit of money left. Another six weeks, at most." Stella d'Vadalis was told.