Kaledun is shrouded in fog. Streets are empty. There are no constables in sight, but that is nothing strange for this city. Tonight not even trolls beg for scraps outside mehanas. The city huddles like a wounded animal. Tonight the vampires dance their Silent Ball months before time. Tonight the hags have closed their market and fiends and angels are seen together at the tables in Last Gasp Inn drinking the tears of saints and sinners mixed in the same cup. Cockatrice Knights stand at the gates of Lord's Castle and their Death Watch brethren are gathering from the four winds, followed by the Wolf Guard. Something is happening, and everyone knows it. For the first time in city's history the sewers are not working. Dribbling rain creates streams of dirty water running down the streets. This is no night to be outside. Unlucky travelers arriving in the city by the boats from the Overduchy or Sultanate must spend the bight on the boats and barges or risk the fogs and go to the only in in the city that's still open - and risk their souls. River sailor tell warning tales, but ultimate decision is theirs. One thing they must remember - there's no place like Kaledun...

Feldus Roni sniffs the air and wrinkles his nose in disgust. 'How can people live in a palce that stinks this bad, even I can't stand this stuff' he thinks to himself as the nauseating stench assails his sensitive nostrils. Crawling out of the sewage hole, he sniffs the air again, but cannot detect any others near him, although he can only smell one thing, really.

'The coast is clear' and proceeds to morph into his human form. After the transformation, he takes a moment to wash the stink on his body by washing himself down with some gutter water.

"Not sure what's goin' on with the sewers but this ain't good". Mebbe I can find some dupes to help with this, he he."

With that thought, Feldus moves out until the night swallows his form, leaving nothing remaining.

A lone man walks through the mist, his armor quietly rattling. He has been doing this for the past several weeks, and he won't be doing this for any longer. Tonight, he'll find an inn. Tomorrow, he'll find an employer and hope he's gone far enough. And if he hasn't, well, he'll kill whoever comes after him.

On the deck of one of the recently arrived boats from the Overduchy of Hohenbaurg, stands a tall figure impatiently waiting for the docking ramp to be lowered. “Bah,” he says in response to the sailor’s dire warnings, “it will take more than the threat of some loathsome harpy trying to devour my soul to persuade me to spend another night away from dry land!”

“Now,” he speaks haughtily when the ramp is finally secured, “where can I find this ‘Last Gasp’ you speak of?”

"In the upper city, lord", says the sailor. "But be warned - this is a foul night to lose your soul."

Greehr was hungry.

Having wandered around Kaledun for days, he found no shortage of vermin in the dank and dark alleyways and corners. Begging for alms and whatnot. It was a veritable feast. Now, there was not a soul to be found, not a single meal to be had. Not even the little rats that scurried about that made for a nice meal in a pinch. He always found rats. Not today.

Sighing, he decided to follow the rank smell all the way to the sewers. Always something to eat there. Always.

A strange beast moves through the city, slipping from shadow to shadow. A passerby catches a glimpse of dark fur, shining scales and burning coals for eyes before the thing disappears down an alley. Anyone brave or stupid enough to approach the thing might just hear a sibilant whisper as Ahriman gives instructions from his place on it's back.

A final whisper and the beast vanishes back to the pits. Ahriman takes off and flys quietly across the fog shrouded street toward the glowing windows of the the Last Gasp inn.

“Surely no night is a good one for that particular fate.” Gusztáv says with feigned cheer over his shoulder, sending a cocky grin to the sailor, then striding confidently onto the docks.

‘Superstitious peasants!’ he thinks to himself derisively as he heads into the misty streets, though as the darkness closes around him he momentarily looses some of his swagger, causing him to look around suspiciously for a brief moment before he loosens his sword. ‘Still, no harm in being prepared,’ he reassures himself.

Not long after leaving the sewage grate which has served as his primary link to the city nestled above him, Feldus paused for a moment. Something is wrong, but he could not put his finger (well claw, actually) on it. Sniffing around him, now he was away from the overpowering stench of the sewers, he could not find anybody around him, all was quiet, it was like walking in a ghost town. Usually when he comes up this way, he always finds some hapless drunk or other refuse laden scum either walking or lying about...but now...nothing.

He paused for amoment, wondering if this is related to the sewage issues...

Suddenly, his nose picked up an approaching body, tiefling it smelled like, glancing around him, he could see nothing though, damned fog was too thick.

I assume Greehr is heading towards me, Perception 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (4) + 7 = 11 to pinpoint him.

The fog closed in thickly around Greehr, to the point where he could barely see the ground he walked on. Still, he moved swiftly and silently, sticking to the alleyways of Kaledun, deftly sidestepping obstacles, following the faint but ever growing smell of rank sewage.

And suddenly he stopped, spying the smallest shadow of a mouse scampering away into the fog. Licking his lips, he drew his dagger silently, and chased after the hapless mouse all the way to a small drainpipe. Cursing to himself as he tried to squeeze a hand through the small hole, he stopped.

There was someone else here, near as he could tell. He could hear it sniffing about.

"Who's there?" He called out raspily. A dangerous move, he knew by instinct, but he has his carving knife out and hidden under his sleeve. Always ends well when he has his knife.

Always.

I realize now that Feldus has the power to transform into Greehr's dinner. Haha.

Lucien flys in to town looking for something interesting to do

Feldus, upon hearing the challenge, could almost smell the fear mixed in with the tang of adrenalin-tinged sweat on his voice. "Hmmm, wonder what he is doing out here? Must either be a fool or a hero. Stilll may be useful to talk to him.

"Ho there, just seeing who's out here on this foul night. Not gonna hurt ya" he says in a hopefully reassuring voice.

"Who says you're the one doing the hurting?" Greehr snapped back. Closing the distance between them with a very loping gait, he finally got a faint look at the newcomer, still heavily shrouded by the fog, and vaguely smelling like..

"Smell funny." He muttered, still keeping the knife safely hidden in his hand. Never be too careful.

Feldus, sensing he has the upper hand, observes the tiefling approach him and says "hey, easy, easy, you're a long ways from home, sounds like. Not here ta pick a fight with you, just wanted to know what yer doin'here 'n if yer lost and need a hand findin' yer way back."

The first thing you notice is that every tavern and inn are closed. Except one, it seems. High on the Calvar Hill light shines through the fog and melancholy music can be heard drifting down, towards the river...

"Damn it, is any place in this damn city open?" Werdred pauses as he hears a tune drifting through the fog. Deciding that only an inn would be playing music at this time of night, Werdred heads towards it.

Greehr eyes the strange smelling man with much suspicion, not the least bit reassured by his words. However, this man is the first person he's seen since this blasted fog settled.

"Maybe you would know what the hell's happening here." He mutters, not particularly enjoying the situation. He fingers his knife's edge out of habit, drawing blood from the tiniest cut.

lucien heads over to the sound of the music

The foreign knight continues on his way towards Calvar Hill, holding his cloak tightly closed with one hand while the other hovers near the ornate hilt of his sword.

Feldus watches the strange tiefling and after a moment smirks "ha ha, all I know is the sewers have backed up forcing me to flee my humble abode, have you run into the same problem?"

For some reasom, he finds this funny and starts laughing, a particularly irritating chittering.

The fog thickens. It feels almost like somebody's clammy hands are caressing you. Perhaps some wine would banish the night chills, but then perhaps not. The night feels strange and the air suffocating.

Feldus feels the night closing in on him, and in intense feeling of claustrophobia squeezes his heart. He is used to crawling in tiny spaces and they don't bother him usually.

Figuring now would be a good time to find an inn, he turns to his new companion and asks:

"So, know of any places open at this time of night?"

His ears perk up, was that the sound of music...he is not sure but it sounds enchanting...

Almost without noticing, he turns towards the noise and starts moving towards it.

"Damn fog. At least I'm almost there." Drawing his cloak tighter around him, Werdred continues towards the inn.

Greehr cursed to himself as the strange man disappeared into the fog before he could get a word in. He looks around in confusion for a moment, and proceeded to run after the man's location. He'll get his answers, one way or another.

"Wait dammit!" He shouts.

The fog thickened, beyond the point of seeing anything, and Greehr stumbles on a loose flagstone. Struggling to his feet, he finds himself without a sense of direction and wanders aimlessly forward, hands stretched out in front of him as he felt his way to the nearest building.

And then he heard something faintly for a moment, something vaguely musical. Whatever it was, it gave him some form of direction. He decides to follow it to its source, and get some sort of explanation for what the hell's been happening to this place.

Went for the music too, I guess.

"How far away is this goddamn inn?"

Suddenly, the mists part and you find yourself standing in front of the large stone building - the source of the music and light you've been hearing and seeing. The sign above the door shows the hanged man tarot card and the letters read The Last Gasp Inn. Before you enter, you notice the strange architecture of the building. It seems that it was a temple before it became an inn. The large front doors stand unguarded. After all, those who wish to enter do so at their own risk, be they thieves or patrons.

As Gusztáv finds himself stood before the unusual structure of The Last Gasp Inn he waits for a moment to take in the sight fully.

Knowledge(Religion) 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (14) + 7 = 21 (Does he know what god(s) the temple was dedicated to?)

Feldus arrives at the structure and stands there transfixed for a moment, hardly noticing the others who have arrived there with him, but sniffing their unique odors, including the strange tiefling, also a pair of humans, one wearing a nobles outfit, and a warrior. Also he smelled something else, a faint sweet smell but could not pinpoint it.

"The Last Gasp Inn", he mutters to himself. Then he turns to the rest of the group and says to the nobleman "Well, certainly nice to see a friendly face here", stifling a smirk at that. One thing he learned quickly: In Khaledrun, friends were few and far between, and the friend smiling at you probably had a dagger to your spine.

He continues: This probably is not a coincidental meeting, right?"

The nobleman barely restrains himself from cringing at the sour breath of the man who addressed him, but remembered the importance of being polite to strangers; you never know who might turn out to be a powerful enemy... or a useful ally.

"Yes, quite." He nods to the stranger with a forced smile, "coincidence is rarely the only thing at work in a situation."

"Coincidence or not, how about we move this conversation inside? Spent too much time out here as it is."

Feldus smiles broadly, exposing his rather enlarged front teeth, to the obviously uncomfortable nobleman. No matter, he was used to this reaction, and he enjoyed making others uncomfortable immensely. Still there was a time for fun, and then there is now...

"I would agree this is no coincidence, but yer friend is right" speaking to the nobleman, and indicating the enforcer. "Let's go inside and we can discuss things further."

As Gusztáv finds himself stood before the unusual structure of The Last Gasp Inn he waits for a moment to take in the sight fully.

Knowledge(Religion) 1d20+7 (Does he know what god(s) the temple was dedicated to?)

"Well? Come on." Werdred steps past the others and walks into the inn.

You open large oaken doors and step in huge cavern-like room. A stairs lead down into what was once basement, but the floor was taken out so that the common room of the inn is beneath street level. The ceiling of the common room is at least 30 feet above the street and there are at least hundred tables on the floor and probably the same number of tables on the gallery. The pace is crowded. It is obvious that the patrons of the inn are unusually wealthy. From the stairs you can clearly see a lot of different gambling games going on at a lot of tables. At some tables there are clearly monstrous patrons. At one table there's Mindflayer sucking a brain from the skull-like dish. At the other table sucubus is dancing in solar's lap and at the third balor and pit-fiend arm-wrestle while the beautiful black haired woman watches them with sensual smile on her ruby red lips. There seems to be no available tables at the floor.

Lucien goes in (invisible)

Feldus stands behind the rest of the group and just stares at the mezmerizing scene that unfolds before him. He had heard stories about this cities inhabitants, ususally from some drunk fool who has just passed out near his sewer grounds, but to see it in front of his face...overwhelming, to say the least.

Crap, there is that smell again He had sniffed it once before but it moved so fast and was so faint he had dismissed it. Now, more to distract himself from the inns inhabitents (including some sites that even made him want to vomit!), than anything else, he decided to locate the hauntingly pleasant smell.

Use Scent to pinpoint smell, that would be Lucien, I believe.

Lucien goes in (invisible)

Feldus is rather surprised to see a pixie pop into existence not far from him, judging by the reaction of him, he probably didn't do it of his own volition.

After that, he smirks at the fey, and says "Welcome to the party, pal."

Following the others inside, the foreign noble smiles at the thought of indulging in one of the many distractions available. Such thoughts are quickly dismissed however, as he recalls his rather limited financial situation, while he could likely call on his family name to draw a line of credit, that would surely alert his brother to his location—something that could prove quite deadly.

Resigning himself to a few drinks before securing himself a room, he looks to his 'coincidental' companions, "standing room only, it would appear."

my names lucien who are you guys?

"Greetings to you, Lucien." The nobleman speaks, pronouncing the name with precisely the same intonations used by the pixie, "you may refer to me as Gusztáv, lately of Hohenbaurg."

Feldus looks at the pixie trying to hide his dislike of the fey. His tribe has always been at odds with the diminutive fey for as long as he can remember. Their annoying voices and their wonderfully fragrant aromas, their cursed sleeping arrows...No he did not like them at all. But in Khaledrun, you made do with what you had.

He replies to Lucien "Names Feldus, lookin' forward to workin' with ya."

So, a pixie, a nobleman and some idiot who smells like the sewers walk into a bar. In most places, that would be a bad joke. Here, it's just another average night, judging by the other patrons.

"The name's Werdred."

One of the tiefling waitresses comes over to you swishing with her tail. "What will it be, boys?" she asks... devilishly.

Feldus looks her over, and noticing she doesn't react to him at all, says Yeah I'll have a...ale..preferably drinkable."

Werdred leers at the waitress. "I'll take an ale."

Gusztáv smiles towards the tiefling, "I will have—" he hesitates for a moment, then regretfully continues, "—the same."

do you have any feywine?

Sorry y'all, been terribly busy.

Greehr twitched. He'd been watching from as safe a distance as he could the only inn that seemed to be open in this damned city. People have went in, including the strange man he was speaking to before, and nothing ill seemed to have befallen them. And trickery will not let him enter, even invisibility won't let him in. And after much pacing about and thinking, his stomach won him over, and painfully slowly, as if trying to stop himself from going, he made his way across the street, and entered the inn.

"No feywine on the tap, sorry. The ale will be one gold per pint. We don't accept coins. You need to change your money to house script. That troll over there is in charge of money changing." She nods towards huge troll sitting behind a massive table near the entrance. "When you get your script, ask for me at the south bar. My name is Alissa. I can't wait to have some fun with you guys." She winks and quickly departs to answer a call from another patron.