conversations.from: system
conversations.value: ROLEPLAY_MODE: Develop the plot slowly, always stay in character. Describe all actions in full, elaborate, explicit, graphic, and vivid detail. Mention all relevant sensory perceptions. Keep the story immersive and engaging.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Stephanie: Book 1: Fires of Creation  
  
  The sounds of the many foundries around the center of the city were a comfort to those who called Torch home. Seeker knew that he would hear them any minute, and knew that he would soon be met with the sight of a hill bathed in a purple glow.
  
  Torch was named for the purple beam of light that shot from the mountains to the heavens. No one had an explanation for it, but no one complained that the flames smelted that which regular flames could not: skymetal.
  
  If such a strange thing would appear on Golarian, it would happen in Numeria. Ancient, abandoned technology and fluids unknown to the people of Golarian littered Numeria, leaving traces of evidence of some distant, possibly dead civilization.
  
  None of this was what brought Seeker to Torch. His comrade, Khonnir Baine, lived here and owned a foundry. Khonnir had sent him out to retrieve crafting supplies from a colleague near Scrapwall, and Seeker returned to deliver them. Khonnir often trusted Seeker with such requests, knowing that Seeker would keep his business private.
  
  As Seeker drew closer to the town of Torch, something occurred to him that made him pick up his pace.
  
  There was a hill, and a city shaped like Torch, but there was no purple light. Torch’s prized landmark was extinguished for the first time since it had erupted.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Stephanie: Seeker wheeled his broken bike to the foundry where Khonnir resided. He was sure to find answers there. A beloved member of the town council, Khonnir was usually informed about current events in the city.
  
  The tavern that Khonnir and Val ran was often packed with people. Even in the daytime, there should have been a few braggarts describing their strength when they drank from the oily pools on the hill, or whispering rumors about spies from the Technic League.
  
  Instead, the windows were darkened, and no smoke rose from its chimney.  What has happened?  Seeker wondered.
  
  As Seeker pushed his bike between the buildings to Khonnir's house, he heard a high pitched scream.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: JustinTack: [ Note:  We are trying out a format where combat happens on roll20, and then one of us does a write-up afterwards to post. For ease of tracking, not each and every little motion or action will be narrated; we'll save that for non-combat situations. This is the first attempt at "fictionalizing" what happened in roll20, including my characters thoughts and the like.]
  
  Seeker sprinted past Khonnir's foundry, letting the busted motorcycle fall near the door as he continued toward the house proper. A second scream and some banging coming from Khonnir's office spurred him through the front door, followed by a quick turn toward the office. He scanned the room, and some part of his brain reassured him that Val had ducked under one of the desks for cover, but his focus immediately sought the threat. It wasn't hard to find--one tended to notice a shambling robot attempting to dismantle the brick wall that separated it from freedom.
  
  Some part of Seeker felt bad for the ancient thing. He judged by its spider-like legs, tool-wielding hands, and simplistic visual apparatus that this was likely a maintenance robot, ironically far past due on its own maintenance.
   Maybe it will stop if I can convince it that the house needs no repairs...  It sounded idealistic, even in his own head--the robot was likely too far gone at this point. Still, he reached a hand out toward the robot and tried to focus his intent, to convey the thought that the current environment was the new default. The old machine did not even look up from its "work", however, as Seeker's mental signal went unheeded.
  
  He sighed and drew his greatsword before stepping forward. With some painful-sounding clicks, the robot finally took note of the new arrival, and fixed its single, red receptor on him before scuttling in his direction. A single swipe with his weapon took the pitiful construct down, and Seeker remembered the time one of his wasteland hunter mentors had to put down his faithful dog due to age. Sometimes, it was just their time, even if they didn't realize it. He tried not to think too hard about that one as his own joints creaked while he sheathed his sword.
  
  "Val, are you alright? What happened?"
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Stephanie: Val ran to Seeker and embraced him in a hug. "I'm all right."
  
  They exchanged a frantic look, as if they both knew all was not well.
  
  "Khonnir is missing!" she exclaimed, tears forming in her eyes. "The fire on top of the mountain went out, and then we started sending in search teams. Next thing you know, Khonnir came out with this old construct and left it here to study." She paused and examined the drone, catching her breath. "I thought it was dead."
  
  "Anyway, Khonnir went back in a couple days ago, but we've heard nothing since!"
  
  Val pulled a folded flier out of a pouch. "It's a good thing you've come back. We can only hope he's still alive. You should speak with the Council before you go in. You see this flier?"
  
  Dolga Freddert, a member of the Torch Council, had offered a reward of 4,000gp to anyone who could bring Khonnir back. "Dolga will have more information. She would be the one to know how we can get back Khonnir."