One of the men in the guard area laughed when Sofia described the place as "freedom loving", but no one exactly objected.

"You don't like taxes, you can take it up with the folks charging them.  We charge for the service of keeping the gate area free and open for everyone. Three people's fifteen silver."  A small metal bowl is lowered on a chain to the side.  "Just place it in the bowl and we'll let you in.  Bit of free advice, though - be careful where you start trying to scavenge.  There's all sorts of markers on the heaps you should know about, so you'd better find someone to give you a lecture fast if you don't want to get in trouble for claim jumping or be crushed to death because you moved the wrong thing."

"Fifteen. Silver?" she shook her head for a moment then rummaged around in her purse and tossed two gold into the collection plate.

"Well, I guess I won't be able to start construction on my summer home in Absalom just yet, but you folks are doing an outstanding job at keeping the gate area free, so keep up the good work."

"May we go in now? Or does somebody here need to give us the safety lecture first? Awful lot of bureaucracy for a free wheeling settlement away from civilization."

Kaelyn adds her own comment to Sofia's praise. "Yeah, sure. Great work guarding this pile of junk. By the way, do you know of someone in particular we could hire as a local guide?" She asks before they move on.

15 silver in total? I'll need to pay Sofia back when we get through the gate.

The plate is wheeled up and then wheeled back down with five grubby silver coins in it.  "Alright, boys, up the gate."

The gate gives a protest of rust on rust as it is lifted away through a hidden mechanism.  It reveals a short passage and a similar gate on the other side that has been raised.  The space in between also has a gate in the side that almost certainly is how the folks above access the upper levels.  There are also quite a few holes in the ceiling of the short passage that would allow for all sorts of things to be fired, poured, or dropped from above.

OOC: Hah, adventurers are like politicians - they don't know what things in the real world cost ;) "What do you mean that's only five silver?"

She didn't bother to scrape the five silver pieces from the tray.

"Keep it, and speak well of us if anyone should ask," she called behind her as she stepped into Scrapwall.

Inside she spoke to her companions.

"I was kind of hoping we'd get a bit of a better chance to talk to the gate guards. Find out where things sit around here. But, I guess the main thing is that we're in. Now what?"

The ratling made nervous chitters and hissing sounds as the interaction played out. When the gate lifted, he quickly scampered inside, wary that the guards might shut him out if he were not so. It was a bit overwhelming for the small scout, to be honest, his whiskers twitched with anticipation as to which heap to rummage through first.

"Perhaps we should see-kkks work-kkee to gain the trust of the, ree-ksk, gangs..."

Kaelyn shrugs. "Find someone that can point us around, I guess? Might as well look around, maybe there's a tavern or whatever would pass for one in this dump, somewhere where we can buy a drink and some information."

Could a perception roll point us in the right direction maybe? Either some scavengers that don't look like they are likely to try to rob us, or some place we can find someone to talk to?
12:51, Today: Kaelyn rolled 30 using 1d20+10.  Perception.

Almost forgot, paying Sofia back 0.5 gp.
This message was last edited by the player at 10:54, Sat 26 Sept 2020.

The area just past the gate is a large, open pit with high scrap walls on all sides.  To the northeast, two lower hills of scrap rise in the middle of a narrow area, resulting in a trio of canyons that go in roughly the same north-easterly direction with the middle of them being the widest.  Almost directly north of the gate is a ramshackle fortress built on the side of the junk heap.

Here and there, work teams scavenge the junk plain in front of you which forms a misshapen circle about half a mile across.  Some of the workers and guards wear crude hawks on their armor or person that look like some sort of gang symbol.  The fortress ahead and, now that you think about it, the gate behind you had the same symbols.

Overall, though, this area appears less populated than you might have expected.

"I'm guessing is that fortress," she pointed towards the fortress ahead of them.

"Is where those people," this time jerking a thumb behind them towards the entrance gate.

"Come from. Don't think it matters much though. We're here to find Dinvaya. Seems like we're gonna have to start asking around. Don't think I got the invite to the pigeon people's hideout so, guess we're goin this way, looking for a place to settle in and have a chat with some folks, like a good tavern or inn."

She pointed through one of the canyons in front of them, leading deeper into Scrapwall.

With much fussing and chattering, Torril followed though his head turned this way and that, trying to take it all in. He was almost childlike in his excitement.

"Torril Maw agrees," he said to Sofia, "let us, skee-ka-eee, find those who kkk-can help us!"

The ratling kept a sharp eye for a market or place where trade could take place. These were often the locations where information was exchanged as well as goods.

"Sounds like a plan. Wherever there are people there will be someone selling them drinks, though I would not get my hopes up about finding anything deserving the term tavern in this place. Let's see if anyone can point us to Dinvaya. I'd stay away from the hawk boys before we learn more about them, though." Kaeyln agrees while staring at the symbol at the fortress ahead.

It doesn't take much asking around to find out some basic information.  The current area is claimed by a gang called the Steel Hawks.  To the northeast, there's a difficult to defend valley that the Hawks scavenge in sometimes but don't actively claim.  Just to the northeast of that, the next valley is claimed by ratfolk.  The rats lair on the eastern side, but if you go west and look for a narrow canyon in the heaps, you'll find yourself on the doorstep of "the crazy lady" you seem to be looking for.

"Hmm, not much to go on, but maybe this crazy old woman can tell us more. Assuming she is the one we are looking for. Shall we?" She points west as she asks the rest of the party.

Does anyone have any other ideas?

"Well, it's the only lead we have at the moment," Sofia shrugged.

"Might as well pay her a visit. Let's hope she's friendly. Even if she is though, I don't trust this place and what we might come across on the way. Look sharp."

She led the way through the scrap in the direction of Dinvaya's place, head on a swivel as she went looking for trouble.

---

13:47, Today: Sofia rolled 22 using 1d20+7.  perception looking for trouble.

Torril warily followed toward the location they'd been told. "Torril Maw may kkk-converse-eesk with ratfolk-eek for news... but, Ree-eeksa! they may not welcome Gnawbones li-kkk-e Torril Maw!"

The terrain continues to be composed of mostly rusted junk.  Here and there, dirt has settled and small bits of wilted, stunted plant life have taken root, though a lot of them look sickly and dying.  The narrow canyon looks treacherous.  There is much less signs of scavenging here, as though the gangs from the other areas are wary about coming to this place.

As you wind your way farther along, the faint rumbling sound you had been hearing in the background gets louder and higher pitched tones add to it.  As you round the last bend, you find yourselves faced with a wall of grinding, churning gears.  Only two of the gears remain motionless, down near ground level, each about the size of a conventional door.

The notion of them being a "door" in the conventional sense doesn't seem to bear out, however.   There are no handles or hinges, apparent.

The ratling paced back and forth before the stationary gears, marveling at the exquisitely ordered chaos of the movement. His insatiable curiosity nearly caused him to put himself in harm's way more than once, nearly losing his tail in the process!

"RRHEES-KKHeee!" Torril shouted at what they assumed were the doors. In the harsh, gibbering tongue of the rat-folk, it meant something akin to demanding entry, though subtle inflections of ears, whiskers and tail might allow for several variations and nuances of the salutation.

"We seek-kkk Dinvaya! Let her make -kheek- seen!"


OOC: Assuming Torril is shouting not in a rude way, but simply to be heard over the noise of grinding gears...

Meanwhile Kaelyn is examining the motionless gears, trying to determine if they are actually doors, and if yes, how does one open them.

While Torril paced and called out, and Kaelyn looked over the gears, Sofia tried not to cover her ears against the screeching sound. She cringed, an angry look on her face, but looked around and kept her eyes open, looking for trouble.

Torril yells in an attempt to be heard over the grinding gears, but it is several minutes before the doors roll away to either side and an imposing figure steps out.  The figure is easily seven feet tall and looks like a very artistic statue of Brigh crafted out of scrap metal, gears, and springs.  It creaks and rattles even above the din of the other gears for a moment as it faces you, and then it steps to the side to reveal a shorter figure with blond hair, elfin ears, and a pair of brass goggles on her face.

"What do you want?" she asks with as much suspicion as someone can convey while also half-shouting to be heard over the racket.

OOC: Wow, didn't mean to take two months...

"Are you Dinvaya or not? Joram Kyte send us!" Kaelyn shouts back, trying to be heard over the noise. Those damned gears were giving her a headache.

"Where is that symbol the priest gave us to show to her?" She asks the party.

Good to see you back. I do fear we may have lost even more players though.

"Ke-eeska-eeska!" Torril exclaimed as he witnessed the tall mechanical creature. Though primitive in his personal habits and nature, the ratling was absolutely fascinated with technology and its myriad applications. This left him momentarily spellbound as he waited for an answer to Kaelyn's response.

He also subtly stepped to the side in an attempt to take a peek further beyond the mech and the shorter figure in order to catch a glimpse of what wonders might lie beyond!


Would like to take 10 on Perception for a total of 20... What lies beyond?

Torril's keen eyes peer into the darkness beyond. 

At the mention of Joram, the half-elf loses some of her suspicion.  "Come inside!"  Whether it's because she now trusts you or, more likely, she doesn't want to shout to talk isn't immediately clear.

The space inside is much as Torril noticed before.  There is a roof over a fairly large space, supported by irregular junk pillars and and with the occasional gaping hole in them.  There's enough sunlight that the whole area is sort-of lit and a few areas are lit with candles or strange technological devices.  The majority of the space is filled with machines and salvage of various sorts, with an occasional doorway leading off to elsewhere.

Once the door is closed again, the noise from outside all but fades away.  It's still present as a vague rumbling but not much more.

"Now, what's this about Joram?"

OOC: There should have been a private line up there, but who knows if it worked right.

"Finally." Kaelyn comments when the doors are closed and they can once again speak without shouting. "This place is bad enough without permanent hearing damage."

In response to the woman's question, she digs out the symbol the old priest gave them to show to Dinvaya. "The old man wished for us to find you, and see if you would be wiling to move to Torch."

Torril let Kaelyn do the talking, after all, she was the one who knew Joram best and it had been her idea to seek out the scrap-hound. The ratling was plenty busy looking around at all the wonderful gadgets, parts and projects-in-progress that filled the immediate area, not to mention those tantalizing hints of wonderful 'stuff' further in.

"What, kee-skaaa, do you do here?" he finally asked, his curiosity overriding what little of human manners Baine had managed to teach him.