Well this was a find do up. Some great hero you're turning out to be. His thoughts seemed his enemy as he turned to look at the fire, now quite actually blazing very nearly out of control, though the makeshift brigade was giving it their all. Maybe I should go help them? He watched for a moment and changed his mind...the team seemed well enough to do on their own. They were all moving as a unit...he would likely only get in the way.

He took some steps from the burning building, still not noticing that he leave his own trail of smoke from his makeshift poncho. Reaching into his belt-sock, he pulled out one of the few bullets he had scavenged and reloaded his pistola. That was at least reassuring to him. The well practiced maneuver calmed him a little, reminding him of himself. With a very minor single twirl, he slipped the weapon back into its coinpurse holster and turned to watch the old soldier once more, this time giving the bodies a bit more of an inspection. Maybe this is a good time to learn something?   He quickly moved a bit closer to the bodies, standing just behind the man, and after a moments inspection of his stance, mimicked it as he also looked over the bodies.

"Look dead to me. Not quite sure what sort of attack that did them in, but it seemed some sort of spell or power or something......right?" He adjusted his adopted stance just a little.

In reply to Darhill Trager (msg # 17):

Trager used two fingers to open the mouth of one of the men, looking at the residue inside, then stood back up.

"These two?" He shook his head. "The spell was just holding them. No, they killed themselves with a suicide pill. Probably in a fake tooth." He pointed to his own jaw.

He shook his head again. "That poor woman looked horrified at what she'd done, too."

He looked up at the bowler-hatted figure. "Are these the guys you saw?"
This message was last edited by the player at 15:53, Mon 21 Sept 2020.

His head tilted to the side a little, causing his bowler hat to tilt precariously as well. The very idea of it seemed wrong to him, but he had to admit to himself that he didn't know very much about arsonists and their morals.

He turned a bit at the question, but shook his head.  "Nahh, I only saw them backlit by the torches, couldn't make out their faces none."

EDi knelt down next to the bodies and started to pat them down, looking for anything in their pockets that might give them some more information. The stories he had heard around the campfires often spoke of hidden clues like that. He was thorough, but quick as he spoke.

"So what kind of fella keeps a fake tooth that kills him? I know humans eat a lot, wouldn't that be kinda dangerous or something? Or if they were hired by someone else, how much do you pay a fella to kill himself? None of it makes any sense to me."

"A fanatic," he replied grimly. "They're not paid, they're... misled."

Trager recognized a man in the brigade and approached him, placing a hand on his shoulder, his face softening. "Thank you for trying, William, but it is a lost cause. You and your men should focus your work on the other buildings, keeping them wet, keeping the fire from spreading." He patted the man's back, and retreated again.

"We should find that woman," he mumbled. He was growing more tired by the moment as his body crashed. "She should know she didn't kill those men." He took a deep breath, then bent his left leg, placed the edge of the shield on his thigh and leaned on it. The pain shot up his leg, sending brief sparks to his eyes, waking him instantly. He shook his head and looked about, trying to see if she had returned. "She is probably long gone, though."

In reply to EDi (msg # 21):

nothing found in the pockets

Adora was still reeling as she made her way through NeverWhere's twisting alleys. The smell of smoke still choked her and the calls for people to bring buckets made her stop and lean against a wall.

Her head reeled as she tried to break down what had happened. She had full control of the Arms of Hadar. She was only intending to entangle them. At worst they sould have gone unconscious. There was something wrong about this whole thing.

Still. There were two people there that had seen her and they would recognize that disguise if she went back as the noble. As the urchin, she turned and headed back toward the Smithy.

She peered from the gloom and saw the two witnesses leaned over the bodies, likely inspecting them. Adora wondered what they'd found about the men. She looked to the bucket brigade and saw that they had it well in hand, though the building was beyond saving. Stupid sloppy thieves she thought sullenly.

Curiosity got the better of her and she wandered over looking like a dirty lad in a ragged coat.

"'scuse me sir." she said in her most uneducated voice. "Is t'ose guys dead or somfink?"

EDi watched as the older man spoke to the brigade member. There was still quite a bit more he was going to have to learn about things around here. He wondered idly who told the brigade to go get the buckets. He looked back down at the bodies of the two men. He had found nothing at all in their pockets, and idea that seemed very peculiar to him...but the old man said that they were fanatics. Did that mean they didn't have belongings? Was that why they killed themselves. It was all so very confusing. Squatting down for a closer look, he wondered who was going to bury them? Was he somehow obligated since he was so close? He didn't even have a shovel, or know where to bury them at.

He was lost in this train of thought when a small voice snapped him back to the present. He turned quickly, his bowler hat slipping off and tumbling. _"Oop!"  He tried to grab it, only to send it bobbling back the other way, tossing it over his shoulder. The awkward stance of the squat shifted him backward as he bent for the hat once more, letting him land rather ungracefully on his backside. _{"Dern it all."} His hat was still behind him and he had to turn both to the right and the left to see which way was best for its retrieval. He stretched out and managed to snag the hat without tipping over further...and placed it smartly on his head, snugging it down.  _{"Heh....gotcha."}

He looked up at the voice that had spoken. It was some young looking human, dressed about as nicely as EDi himself. He wondered a bit where the person had come from.

  "Huh? Oh...yeah. Totally dead."   He waved his hand dismissively at the deceased duo. "They burned down that smithy we think..then killed themselves with their teeth or something." EDi hooked his thumb back over his shoulder, pointing towards the large soldier that had previously charged through a wall. "He said it was poison, and that they were fanatics or something. Didn't make much sense to me."

The skies flicker for a moment becoming very bright, then dark again a few times. You would almost swear the sun appeared for an instant.

She would have laughed at the antics before her, but she was still perturbed about what she had done. As the metal man went after his hat, she realized her mistake. He wasn't wearing armor, he was completely metal.

At his words about how the men died, a look of profound relief crossed her face and she felt like a weight lifted off her. She hadn't murdered them. "I... You mean dat lady didn't do it? I seen the things on the ground grab at them. From there." She pointed down the street.

The sky above, through the smoke, flickered and startled her. "What in the hells..." she exclaimed in her normal voice, forgetting her act momentarily. "Ah, well. That's good then, that is! That lady ain't in no trouble. Have a good night!" And she began to make a slightly awkward exit away from the scene, feeling much better about herself.

Trager continued to watch the bridgade rush about their duties. Efficient. Organized, he thought. At the very edge of his hearing he caught the young boy mention seeing the tendrils that had entangled the pair of now-deceased men. He turned to him as he spun to leave.

"Excuse me," he called, taking in his appearance. "Tell me more of what you saw, please."

He pulled a gold coin from a pocket on his bag and fingered it in his hand. I have so few coins left, but maybe he'll have information. He also looks like he needs it more than I do.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:37, Tue 22 Sept 2020.

The older man came over and she began to get nervous, especially when he began asking her questions. He pulled out a gold coin and for a moment, greed shined through. His house burned down and he was paying her?!

She put her hands behind her back petulantly. "I ain't seen much! I seen them two running from a building on fire all shifty like. Then I seen the pretty lady reach toward them and the things come from the ground and then them two stopped movin. The lady looked at them and freaked and the things vanished and she ran. That's it."

Looking at the man who spoke she added quietly. "Was that your shop?"

Trager towered over the child physically, which was not the feeling he wanted right now. He went to one knee and nodded along as the boy described what he had seen - it was plenty despite the boy saying he "hadn't seen much."

The boy asked the last question quietly, and Trager smiled sadly. He extended the coin, giving it to the boy. "Yes, son," he said, his normally gravelled tone softened. "It was."

Using his hammer as a cane, he stood, and looked at the fire. "Things can be replaced," he continued, voice stronger. "I'm just glad no one was hurt."

"Not true..." EDi spoke up, pointing at the soldiers lower half. "You got hurt...when you crashed through the wall and slid across the ground and crashed into that plant. Remember?"    He turned, pointing back down the way towards the burning shop where it had happened.  "It was right over there."

He took a few steps closer to the fire and watched for a moment, his hands placed on his hips to take up the maximum amount of space. He raised one hand, and held it aloft, feeling the intense flame from the burning building.    "Wow.....you can even feel it from way over here."

He held out the coin to her but she shook her head. Adora was no amateur. If she took the coin there was a chance he would notice the illusion and discover her. "No, sir, you need every one of those right now. You keep that." She smiled at him and then turned and walked down the street, much more at ease than before.

Strange kid, he thought, as the boy walked away. He eyed the coin, then the boy, judged the distance, and flipped it forward, spinning, arcing, to land just in front of the boy at his feet.

Trager turned and stared at the bowler ensconced figure as he described Trager's exit from the building. The details were so... incongruous, Trager couldn't help but laugh, and loudly.

"You've got a way with words, Tin Man," he chuckled.

Adora was in the middle of walking away. She had had her dramatic moment of being nice and not robbing someone, when she heard a sharp TING! followed by the obvious sounds of a coin bouncing off cobblestone streets before finally bouncing and rolling between her feet to rest on the ground in front of her. With a sigh, she looked up to the smoke filled sky and shook her head. What in the world had she done to deserve this?

She bent over and picked it up, looking back at the man. "I'll make this up to you, old man." She called before pocketing the gold and finishing her exit.

Trager laughed internally. She's not wrong, Trager. You are old.

He finally sat, on a bench nearby, taking his weight off his feet at last.

EDi turned a little as the man spoke to him, and quickly put down the hand he had raised to the flames. Perhaps it was poor form to admire the fire that was burning down his home. His back stiffened at the all too familiar nickname of 'Tin Man'.  Yup...he is a soldier for sure.

He did a slight turn on his heel, presenting himself formally. He reached up, barely grasping the brim of his torn bowler hat and gave it a slight tip. He spoke up a bit as well, trying to sound friendly.

  "Thankee partner. I been talking a lot more recently, so I'm still getting used to the whole back-and-forth part... but nevertheless, my name is EDi." 

He threw his moldly rub poncho over his shoulder, proudly displaying his chest. There, just to his left side was a leather patch in the heavy iron plate of his chest. It was roughly the shape of a shield, and looked to be poorly done in general. There, by the light of the burning building one could clearly see the three letters of his name, carved into the leather by something sharp, but probabaly not a knife.

EDi

"I just got into town today, pleased to meet you, though I"m sorry for the circumstances." He said with a slight bow.

Trager raised an eyebrow, then leaned forward to look at the leather "badge" on the figure's chest. He had met a number of the Warforged before; none had ever had names, just designations.

He tilted his head to EDi. "My apologies then, EDi," rumbled from his throat. "My men and I used to give nicknames to other Warforged who were assigned to us - not that there were many - instead of the numbers they were given. We tried to make them feel welcome."

His eyes unfocused. "Though that was... a long time ago. We had one," he chuckled, "Called 2468. We named him Even Steven." He laughed again, sounding like a dull roar in his chest.


His eyes settled back on EDi, a half smile on his face. "So my apologies, EDi." He placed his fist, palm inward, to his heart in salute.
This message was last edited by the player at 12:35, Tue 22 Sept 2020.

His hand waved dismissively towards the older man. This was already far more than EDi had expected to get, much less on his first day in town.

"Don't you fret none, partner. No harm, no foul." He saw the motion the man did with his fist...and awkwardly mimicked it.

He turned back slightly, looking over his shoulder at the still burning building. The brigade had managed to keep the vast majority of the fire under control and had stopped it from consuming other nearby buildings, but the damage to the shop was likely going to be irreparable.

"So...if'n you don't mind my asking...whats your plans for the rest of the night? You are wounded and old, and probably tired after the day, yes? Are you going to stay at an inn or something?"   He shrugged his arms in a familiar way, causing the rug poncho to fall back down, hanging on his shoulders once more and covering him down to just past his waist.

Trager looked at his legs. There was one small tear in the canvas pants, though they were streaked with dirt and dust from his charge earlier. "I'm really not injured," he replied, still inspecting. "There might be a scratch, but it's nothing bad."

He unstrapped the shield finally and lay it on his lap, face down, and considered the question. The thought hadn't even occurred to him. "I don't know," he said finally. "That would seem the most expedient. I... don't even know where an inn is," he admitted. He took a deep breath and then let it out slowly.

He had given up on strategic exit plans when he started the smithy. It seemed a part of his former life, too far separated from his current to really matter. The go-bag on his back was all that remained of what used to be a host of strategic options. He lifted the shield and set it upright on the ground and leaned forward on it, staring at the dwindling fire.

As much as he had told himself earlier he could start over again, he was much older now, and he knew he was watching his life burn before his eyes.
This message was last edited by the player at 13:03, Tue 22 Sept 2020.

He stood there, watching the man watch the last remnants of his home and business burn. EDi was unsure of what to do next. He felt some sort of bizarre kinship with the man, but was fairly certain the feeling was not reciprocated. He was a soldier after all. In his limited experience, he had already achieved more with this one than he had in his previous years, and from what he could tell, the man wasn't even drunk on ale or cheap wine. Unsure of what to do, he simply decided to do nothing, and stood there in silence as they both watched the building fall in on itself, consumed by the flames as the dead men lay behind them. It was a very surreal thing, to watch something that large and built, simply burn. The work that was put into it, and the work that came from the place itself, all seemed to vanish in his bright brass eyes.

It would likely be the talk of the district for a few days at least, the rumors would spread like a fire all their own. Though tomorrow or the day after even, it would simply be a mess for someone to clean up. Would they build here anew? Would anyone wonder about the old man who didn't burn to death in the fire? All this was far too much for EDi's mind to mull over all at once. Perhaps he should at least help the old man to an inn or something?

"Welp...not that its much coming from me, but you should still get to seeing yourself to an Inn or something. Can't focus too much on the past, or the future will hit you right between the eyes." With that, he turned to began to slowly mosey away, still idly looking around and seeing the sights.

Adora dropped her disguise about 3 blocks from the inn and strode in. The circumstances at the smithy still rattled her. Why would arsonists be willing to die for their crimes? It made no sense unless they were serving someone powerful, whose wrath was worse than death or they were fanatics.

Sitting at the bar she ordered the cheapest ale and nursed it, lost in thought. When the bar keep asked for payment she reached in her pocket and pulled out the smith's gold. She looked at it a moment and then got out her money pouch instead. After paying, she returned the gold to her pocket.

The smith would have to sleep somewhere. She half hoped it would be here.

The fire died, as they did.

Trager stood, eventually, strapping the shield to his bag again, and approached William. "Let the constable know I'll be at the closest inn." He paused. "Where is the closest inn?"

William gestured, and Trager wandered down the street. He sighed and straightened his back. EDi is right. The past no longer matters. His stride grew longer, and he walked with purpose - he knew it was false, but it helped get him out of the previous mindset.

Soon, he found himself standing before the inn down the street, as William had directed him. First step of the rest of your life, he thought, and entered.

"A room please."