The human monk Turning continued to scratch at the back of his head, where an odd symbol had (unknowingly to him) appeared after the fight with the mindflayers and undead dragon. The human wizard Kyllar reread the note from the dead dwarf, which described him, the monk, and had a picture of an odd little man named Falco Burrows, who looks ridiculously like their halfling rogue companion Shadowale, if the drawing was even remotely accurate. Shadowale shrugged, rifling through the bodies almost absentmindedly, though finding nothing interesting. No one else seeming inclined to do much of anything, so the newcomer to the party, the dragonborn fighter Rhogar suggested maybe they press on and deal with whatever this train thing was? It is going faster and faster now…
The party agreed, putting all discussions on the proverbial back burner. As best they could in the tight quarters of the train, the party took up positions around the door to the next car, and flung open the doors. They peered inside, viewing what remained of a dining car (a very pleasing sign saying “Welcome to Snarg’s Bistro” hung in pieces on the wall, broken by massive crossbow bolts.
The tables and chairs were overturned, and a few warforged hunkered down behind cover, cutlery flying past them furiously, but sitting exposed to the party. Someone back in the kitchen snarled to bring more cutlery, but not the “good, fancy stuff!” and the party decided to move.
All but Kyllar jostled over one another to enter the fray and engage the warforged, A warforged with a large katar in each hand charged the party, while the other warforged reloaded and turned to bring their powerful mechanical crossbows to bear on targets more threatening than kitchen staff. The warforged were quickly dispatched by the party, without telling their betters for whom they were working, despite Turnin almost inventing T-ball on the spot be repeatedly cracking and separating mechanical skulls from mechanical spines.
With their immediate foes vanquished, the party took up position behind the overturned tables, and politely asked for an immediate cessation to cutlery throwing in the car. From behind an overturned table, pushcart and a sturdy serving tray, a satyr-like beast peered out, long mustaches curling at the end of his goat-like snout. Learning that the warforged had been dispatched, Snarg announced himself, and with a flourish, emerged from the kitchen, trailed by his shell shocked line cook, Zoop. Zoop was mute and still shaking with fear, so Snarg spoke with the party, though could not tell them much aside from “zhere vas a “boom” un dan ze warforged, un ze shooting, un dan ze hiding un much throwing of ze cutlery… und now, you all, und chatting.” The party convince Snarg and Zoop to travel toward the rear of the train, past the orc fighter and towards the rest of the passengers.
The party pressed on, entering a another sleeper car, and began methodically searching each compartment, netting the poor Gnofulk some much-needed coin. One door was unlocked, but blocked by something immense and clad in plate metal. Rhogar pushed as hard as he could and Gnofulk managed to squeeze into the room to find the large stoic paladin from the station. Gnofulk push/wrestled/grappled the paladin onto the edge of the bed, and began attempts to awaken the sleeping, still-masked plate-clad behemoth, who slowly was roused, and began trying to draw his sword muttering “friend or foe?” Shadowale mindfully re-sheathed the paladin’s sword and emphatically repeated “friend!” while giving a thumbs-up.
The paladin relates that he heard an explosion, but due to his size and the cramped train quarters, the aftershock shook the car, and he knocked himself out on the low ceiling. As it turns out, the paladin, Asmund, is a member of the Wayward Blades, which Kyllar recognizes as the same order as that Sora, the dragonborn paladin from so long ago (session 2?) who gave the advice to never split the party, belonged to. Kyllar asks if the name Sora is familiar to Asmund; it isn’t (one may recall that they members are paladins errant, and so would not often bump into one another outside of Sharn), and so Kyllar resolves to speak with Asmund later on the subject. Presently Rhogar also speaks with Asmund, wondering if Asmund has any healing skills, but Asmund informs the dragonborn that he “is not that kind of paladin,” and gestures to his long, heavy looking sword for emphasis.
A sense of duty finally brings the massive paladin to his feet, but he is not in the best of shape (still a bit concussed) and still massive. He offers to be the rearguard for the party, since anyone behind him will have trouble getting around him in the tight quarters, and begins to emit a faintly radiant aura, boosting the damage of the party members nearby. The party piles up at the front of the car, opens the door-
-and Rhogar immediately takes another pair of massive bolts from some warforged sentries, with more warforged stirring at the front of the car. Kyllar hurls a massive fireball towards the warforged, grievously injuring most of the sentries, melting some of their metallic bits, and then ducks behind a bench for cover, tugging ineffectually at Rhogar, while Gnofulk raged and engaged katar-wielding warforged. Turnin bounded over Gnofulk, swinging wildly in the air. Shadowale bounced up and over the benches, slicing through the warforged’s weak spots while Kyllar resuscitates Rhogar. The party was brutally efficient, and had dispatched these sentries before Asmund could advance close enough for his aura to help, though the goals of the warforged still eluded the party.
As the party prepared to continue on, Asmund admitted defeat – he was in too poor of shape to physically assist. He instead blessed the party, and reclined on a bench, sword ready and guarding the party’s rear as they continued on, towards the engine at the front of the train.
Entering the next car, a storage car, the party crept about, inspecting crates for possible clues or magical items, but found nothing. As they went to move into the next car, they found the door locked. Lacking a key, Shadowale attempted to pick the lock but failed. In the middle of his second lengthy attempt, the door slid open, scattering the lock pit kit and the party found their path blocked by two more warforged, who immediately proceeded to start slicing with their katars, intend on keeping the party from entering the engine.
A trio of warforged with the mechanical crossbows worked the controls on a raised command platform ahead, and a tall warforged, with more ornate armor and markings, instructed his underlings. From behind the doorway scuffle Turnin demanded to know who these warforged were, but the warforged was too distracted to respond. Fed up with a one-sided discussion, Turnin resorted to a more direct and universal approach to communication, and flung a dart at the warforged leader, who cinematically and deftly deflected it with blades extending from his forearms.
Bottlenecked, the party shuffled in the doorway trying to get the odd hit in. Rhogar attempted to taunt one of the katar-wielders, and again Kyllar lobbed a fireball just over the heads of those in the doorway fight onto the platform, again to grievous effect.
The party eventually broke through, and the warforged commander instructed his injured underlings to kill the party or just flee. Shadowale and Turning deftly disengaged from the remaining foe in the doorway and dashed up to the platforms to examine the controls and lightning elemental. The Warforged made ineffectual attacks, being used to attacking at range, and soon just flung themselves from the train engine’s windows while Gnofulk advanced to the center of the room to begin slugging it out with the leader. Not able to make any headway with the controls, Turnin flipped back and vented some frustration into the warforged commander, stunning him. Rhogar advanced, and unleashed a breath of fire upon him, and Gnofulk landed a telling blow, incapacitating but not killing his foe.
Kyllar looked around, recognized this room as an engine, similar to the one found in the rear of the train, and found the phone, which was essentially hanging off the hook, and used it to call the stowaway engineer the party had happened upon at the start of this cramped ordeal.
The engineer walks the party through the steps to reduce speed of the train, and once the immediate threat of possible derailment is averted, wanders up to the front of the car with Gofer, who as a member of House Orien, is able to decipher the controls. The party keeps collective watch over their prisoner as Gofer and the stowaway engineer bring the train safely to Sharn….
Upon arrival, the train is diverted to a House Orien train yard. The House, working with Sharn’s City Watch, tends to the wounded and interviews the passengers, with particular interest in the party, as they had, by all accounts foiled the plot and saved the day.
Through their various debriefings, the party is able to piece together that these warforged are essentially terrorists, and aimed to crash a speeding train into the city to cause destruction and mayhem. House Orien hired some more bellicose parties to apprehend those warforged that had flung themselves from the train; being warforged they were quite durable, and given enough time, would have been able to recover and return to hatch further plots…
Capturing the leader was an unbelievable stroke of luck. The authorities in Sharn will interrogate him for more information, and then put him on trial for the destruction and death already wrought.
The authorities (House Orien and the city watch, chiefly) know they cannot cover up the attack, but want to downplay it a bit. The rail is too important to the continent, and commerce must be kept moving. Additionally, there is a fair amount of tension with the warforged in Eberron, and they do not want to fan the flames. So…
For thwarting the plot, the party receives substantial compensation from House Orien, and notarized documents entitling them to free rides on House Orien transports. Other train passengers are compensated for the assistance rendered to the party (though nowhere near as lavishly), or (more likely) for their distress at having lived through such a trauma, or (much more likely) as compensation for the families of the deceased. Recipients are asked not to relate details of the attack.
Additionally, the city watch gives you a personal tour of the city, and arranges with House Ghallanda to put up the party in Ghallanda hall for a month while the party acquaints themselves with the city…
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