"I read a paper somewhere once that broke down how a supposedly good Sun God, I think the name may have been Pelor, was actually evil convincing everyone he was good." Rhiannon muses.
Isaac nods to Jenk.
"Thanks, good trading cutter."He pulls Talismin from the wagon (or wherever she was stowed) and steers her toward the Octagon house.
"You cutters have a mind to cool yer heels or we ready to give this plane the laugh?", he asks the rest of the Rose.
"All things considered, I would be happy to get back to Sigil sooner rather than later. And this world isn't what I would call a pleasant vacation spot."
Justin shudders, possibly in relief, as the Fort Pelor gates close behind him.
"Yeah. I've been to cheerier funerals. And safer. Did anyone else feel like we were being watched? Constantly?"
He shudders again. "Give me a straight up fight against a fire-resistant devil any day!" He mutters as he stretches ride-sore muscles.
"I'm with Ekuur. The sooner we get back home, I mean Sigil, the better."
Justin looks thoughtful, finally realizing what he has now said more than once. He remembers a conversation he had with Isaac, only a few short weeks ago (although it seems like years), about making himself at home in Sigil.
The mage smoothes his goatee thoughtfully.
The group heads towards the large obelisk, Talismin in tow. The fort is a fairly busy place, and several groups of adventurers seem to be gearing up for some project or another
They pass a stable with a faded pink sign: Finn's Livery
Another large ramshackle building seems to be a public house. The sign proclaims it as The Sip of Blood
Finally they arrive at the large stone obelisk. Next to it is a well-made stone building with eight sides. The sign above the door says The Octogon House
The building seems to be a dry goods store. Several people lounge around the entrance. An old man with black rotted teeth approaches the party
"Alms, alms for an old delver"
Nari gives the man a gold piece and then scurries behind Karrin, peeking out shyly. She knew she would probably get scolded, but she couldn't not help someone in need.
Nari gives the man a gold piece and then scurries behind Karrin, peeking out shyly. She knew she would probably get scolded, but she couldn't not help someone in need.
The old man tips a battered black hat to Nari
"May the Sunfather shine on yeh, kind miss."
The old man shuffles off towards the public house, limping slightly
Justin gives a small knowing smile at Nari's gullibility. But instead of his usual witty comment, Simply gives the newly-remade girl a kind nod.
Something else to think about,...
"Yeah. Nice place to visit. but I wouldn't want to live here!" He says aloud. He claps his hands together and rubs them vigorously.
"How does that saying go Isaac? 'Give this place the laugh'? I'm looking forward to laughing myself to sleep in my own bed for a change!" he grins.
The party heads into the Octogon House. It is a large building, made of well-fitted mortared stone. It is quite different from any of the other buildings in Fort Pelor. A dome roof surmounts it, made of some verdegrised metal. At some point it had small gargoyles on its roofline, but the small statues are now headless.
Inside is a hodge-podge of goods. Shovels, sacks of beans, backpacks and long spools of hempen and silk rope speak to a store geared to an adventuring crowd. A tall pale man in an old-fashioned tophat and threadbare coat sits behind a counter, haggling with a burly man.
"I know yeh think the prices for the three weeks of fodder is dear friend, but yeh got to remember. Outside the Temple, nought GROWS here! I got to pay shipment costs, through the Cage. It's not like they grow timothy hay in Sigil either! So, go fetch it yerself or pay my price."
Justin looks around the store, enjoying the purely 'ordinary' haggling for a change.
He does look with interest at the buildings construction. Solid construction under the circumstances does not surprise him, but the fact that (to his layman's perspective) it appears to be built even more solidly than the perimeter walls or temple is interesting. Although he can guess why the decorative gargoyles are now headless.
Justin idly considers the building materials, trying to determine if they are 'common' stone or some rarer substance.
,... But unfortunately, Justin never really paid much attention to the mineral world,...
Isaac clears his throat after the shopkeep's said his piece.
"Oi, we're lookin' for the Gatekeeper since we'd like to return to Sigil. If ye have a moment when you're through, cutter."
The slender man looks up at Issac
"Aye. I'm the Gatekeeper. Just walking through? That's 10 weights of gold each body going."
Issac:
'10 gold per person, just for letting us walk through?!? Man, Am I ever in the wrong business!' Justin muses wryly to himself.
'That's the life. When I retire, (presuming I live long enough to retire) I'm finding a nice Gate somewhere and park my toll booth in front of it,...'
Isaac tilts his head, an are you barmy? look on his face.
"Did some berk write 'Clueless' on my forehead this morning, cutter? Because that's what yer screed's tellin' me. 80 Ladies teh get your bum from your stool and use a gate key? Between all our dazzlers and magickers, I'd reckon we could figure this gate ourselves. Maybe bring a caravan or two through as well, just fer the inconvenience."
He sets his elbows on the store counter and leans in conspiratorially.
"And I can't help but wonder, cutter, whether the good folk o' Fort Pelor have as much a notion o' what's under that tophat o' yers as I do. You got a good thing goin', I'll give ye that, but it might be that even a bein' o' yer age and caliber can push a good thing further than advisable. What's say I give ye 20 gold fer the lot of us and we get right outta yer hair?"
Bluff:
Isaac tilts his head, an are you barmy? look on his face.
"Did some berk write 'Clueless' on my forehead this morning, cutter? Because that's what yer screed's tellin' me. 80 Ladies teh get your bum from your stool and use a gate key? Between all our dazzlers and magickers, I'd reckon we could figure this gate ourselves. Maybe bring a caravan or two through as well, just fer the inconvenience."He sets his elbows on the store counter and leans in conspiratorially.
"And I can't help but wonder, cutter, whether the good folk o' Fort Pelor have as much a notion o' what's under that tophat o' yers as I do. You got a good thing goin', I'll give ye that, but it might be that even a bein' o' yer age and caliber can push a good thing further than advisable. What's say I give ye 20 gold fer the lot of us and we get right outta yer hair?"Bluff: 1d20+8
The Gatekeeper's eyes narrow. Then he grins, showing off a wide mouth with a lot of white teeth
"I like your style cutter. You're not a one to beat about the leafless tree. Tell you what. Seeing as yeh're passing through ill cut my usual rate for yeh. 40 weights and we'll be Mr Tinker. Fair enough?"
1d20+5
,... But unfortunately, Justin never really paid much attention to the mineral world,...
Justin:
'That's odd, I thought I overheard that this Fort was relatively new.' Justin muses, looking between a pile of pitons and a rack of ropes at the walls themselves. Losing interest in the bickering between the gatekeeper and Isaac.
'I could have sworn that we were told this Fort was relatively new. This construction is, old. It would have to be,... a remnant of the original inhabitants!' Justin's eyes light up as he realizes he's contemplating a building possibly centuries old. Now that his life is in no (immediate) danger, the researcher dares to peek out once more.
'After all, a planet full of undead had to come from somewhere, they must have been living at one point. That means,... an undead apocalypse on a global scale?!?'
Justin audibly gulps.
'I sure hope the Lady has good locks on HER side of the door!'
Isaac nods and extends his hand.
"Deal. 40 weights."
The amount agreed upon, he shakes out the proper coin from his pouch.
Isaac nods and extends his hand.
"Deal. 40 jweights."
The amount agreed upon, he shakes out the proper coin from his pouch.
The Gatekeeper returns the handshake with a surprisingly strong grip. His skin is cool to the touch. He sweeps the forty gold coins into a slot in the counter and yells into a back door
"I got portal work, mind the counter Brettick!"
A greyish goblinoid with an impressive collection of scars trundles out and takes over the counter. The Gatekeeper walks out to the obelisk. He stares at it for a few moments and a rainbow-striped gate ripples to life in front of it
"Next stop, the Cage. Say hello to the Lower Ward for me"
"Well, that was easy." Justin whispers to the new Nari.
He smiles at the still-small girl hiding behind Karrin out of habit.
"We ready? The sooner I get this grave-dust out of my lungs, the better!" He grins.
"Much obliged.", Isaac nods before stepping through the portal, Talismin in front of him.
"LAdies first!" Justin says with a grin and tip of his imaginary hat to KArrin, Nari and Merle.
"The lower ward is where the chaos men are right?" Karrin asks as she follows, "Could have friends or enemies here. Anyone sees a schmuck in a rusty mask sporting some claws let me know, I promised that guy if I ever saw him again I was gonna turn him into paste."
Nari smiled brightly at Justin, practically bouncing with excitement as she waited her turn to go through the portal. She followed Karrin through, eager to go home, her green eyes wide as she tried to take in every detail.
"Chaosmen call kip in the Hive. The Foundry's in the Lower Ward.", Isaac clarifies once the group steps out into Sigil.
"Wait . . ." Karrin says suddenly remembering something, "The lower ward is were that property we were supposed to look into is. I wonder where this portal goes?"
"Wait . . ." Karrin says suddenly remembering something, "The lower ward is were that property we were supposed to look into is. I wonder where this portal goes?"
The party walks through the portal and they experience that odd timeless twisting gate travel does to you. They emerge in a cul-de-sac that opens into a large open air market. The air is chill, fog-filled and sulphourous to the smell. The smell of street ordure hits them like a wet slap to the face.
It takes a moment, but they recognize the chaotic atmosphere of the Lower Ward's permanent flea market, Ragpicker's Square. The large spiky skull dome of the Mortuary looms in the distance. Thousands of Dustmen, Godsmen, Xaositecs, Free League, and Athar mingle and haggle over goods new, used and stolen. Watching over all are a few squads of Harmonium, distinctive in their red spiky armor.
A Dustman in a black robe and powdered-white face with black-rimmed eyes approaches them as they are getting their bearings.
"Apologies cutters, but did you come from Ranais? I am a buyer of artifacts from that world, and I would be interested in making an offer on anything you have brought back, especially any books or scrolls."
"Oh good were back." Merle looks around hearing the Dustman she turns to Justin "Your the bookworm type yopu talk to him."
Ekuur actually smiles as he emerges from the portal, glad to be back. He tenses a bit as the man in black robes approaches, but relaxes a bit when he realizes he's just looking to buy.
"I'll never get over how crazy is normal in this place."
"I'll never get over how crazy is normal in this place."
"You said it sister." Justin agrees wholeheartedly, taking a deep breath of the thick Sigil air.
"AH. Smog never tasted so good! Better than grave-world dust at least!" He grins.
"Oh good were back." Merle looks around hearing the Dustman she turns to Justin "Your the bookworm type you talk to him."
Justin blinks at Merle.
"Thanks. I think." He replies with a wry smirk.
Justin turns to the Dustman with a friendly smile.
"Sorry Cutter." Justin says in a passable attempt at Isaac's cage-speak drawl.
"We were just passing through. Literally. The only thing we picked up was dust." He says, indicating his boots and pants, now almost the same exact grey color.
Nari stood transfixed as she took in the scene before her, absorbing the sights and sounds and smells of Sigil. She remembered Sigil. She knew that it was home. But it was like she was seeing it for the first time.
"It's beautiful," she whispered, awestruck.
"Sorry Cutter." Justin says in a passable attempt at Isaac's cage-speak drawl.
"We were just passing through. Literally. The only thing we picked up was dust." He says, indicating his boots and pants, now almost the same exact grey color.
The robed man nods. Like all Dustmen he strives to keep a non-emotional mien, but the party can sense he is disappointed
"Thanks for your time cutters." He walks off into the doorway of a tavern that fronts the street they have appeared on
Justin waves politely to the man, watching him enter the tavern.
"Hey Isaac," He says, sort of still half-watching the doorway the Dustman walked through.
"I know I'm still a Newbie here, but is that normal? I mean, parking outside a portal from a known dead, or I guess UNdead-world to ask travelers if they've gotten arcane loot they want to sell? I mean, I guess it beats hitting the kajillion or so pawn shops Sigil has, but still,..." Justin shrugs.
Nari stood transfixed as she took in the scene before her, absorbing the sights and sounds and smells of Sigil. She remembered Sigil. She knew that it was home. But it was like she was seeing it for the first time.
"It's beautiful," she whispered, awestruck.
Justin blinks, and looks around again. He's fairly sure that he's looking at the same scene Nari is. He looks at the crowds of people, all of various origins, all haggling at the top of their lungs. He sniffs the foggy, sulfurous air. He squints and looks at the menacing dome of the Mortuary in the distance. He looks at Nari, still looking around with that look of wide-eyed, child-like wonder on her face.
Firmly swallowing his immediate sarcastic comment, Justin takes another look around. Longer this time.
He decides that while he will probably never get used to the current insanity and chaos that seems to constantly engulf most of Sigil, (and hes ok with that) he realizes that he has achieved the dreams of most of the magikers he went to school with. Or ever met. Here he has access to almost any known realm of existence. And a few that aren't known. True, he prefers the 'Prime' worlds with blue skies and mostly recognizable foliage, since that what he's used too. But most 'real' wizards would give a body part to have seen just the bits and pieces of worlds that he's already seen. He's just complaining because he's hasn't found a portal that will let him return to his original world yet. And Sigil, for all of it's bizarreness, has a strange beauty all it's own,...
"Aw,... H@!!'s bells. It's happened. I'm going native." Justin mutters, flapping his long coat in a futile attempt to dislodge some of the Ranais-dust from it.
Nari stood transfixed as she took in the scene before her, absorbing the sights and sounds and smells of Sigil. She remembered Sigil. She knew that it was home. But it was like she was seeing it for the first time.
"It's beautiful," she whispered, awestruck.
"Well in an extreme fixer upper way I suppose." Merle mumbles as she looks around
The party heads off into the chaotic tangle of stalls in Ragpicker's Square.
Every type of good is sold here, but there is a concentration of clothing and bookprinters in the area surrounding the stalls. The Ragpicker's Guild squats at the corner of Shirtwaist Avenue, which the party heads down, aiming for the junction of Hellgate and the Gear District. They pass the dingy brick guildhall and the various cloth sellers vending their wares.
'Muslin! Fine muslin!"
"Felts! Soft and pliable!"
Shirtwaist Avenue empties out on the Alley of Dangerous Angles. Hellgate is quiet at Peaktime, the fiendish residents prefering the twilight darkness of Afterpeak and Antipeak to go about their business. They pass Caritas, and Justin wonders a bit about his friend Murph, and what she's been up to these last few weeks .
They pass through the Gear District quickly, heading into Issac's home turf of the Great Foundry. The air gets noticibly thicker and ash-choked. The sound of ringing hammers makes a clangorous music as they pass through the crowds of junkers, tinkers, smiths, and coal carriers. A few Godsmen namers wave to Issac. He was well-liked during his sojourn at the Foundry.
Passing through the boulevard of bacchanialia known as Alehouse Row, the party withstands the touts offering sweeter and sweeter deals for their custom. At the corner of Brandy Lane is the Styx Oarsman, the famed fiend bar known for its rough clientele. It looks quiet, likely for the same reason Hellgate was.
Passing down through the mercenary district of Swordhold, the party passes that puissant arcanist's club The Society of Lumineferous Aether. Justin gazes longingly at the odd windows and organic-looking additions to the building. A heaviness in his pocket reminds him of his prize, the Thief of Charms. Would the top-shelf mages perhaps grant him a membership for such a piece? A wizard can dream ...
Skirting Doomguard Walk and its crumbling facades, the party enters the fringes of the Lady's Ward at the Temple District. Ekuur casts a longing glance towards his temple's location. He makes a note to get back there as soon as possible.
Walking through Bloodgem Park and past the shark-jaw-bedecked temple of Dajobas, the party passes up the tiers of powers: From crazy-eyed street preachers to gem-bedecked temple-fortresses. The top power's temples pass behind them as they enter the Court District.
They emerge into Petitioner's Square. The racks of gallows known colloquially as the 'leafless trees' in Sigil line the square, many occupied by swinging corpses. The petitioner poles line the outskirts, plastered with thousands of bounty notices and wanted posters.
Ahead of them looms the massive grey bulk of the Prison, faction headquarters for the Mercykillers.
Justin waves politely to the man, watching him enter the tavern.
"Hey Isaac," He says, sort of still half-watching the doorway the Dustman walked through.
"I know I'm still a Newbie here, but is that normal? I mean, parking outside a portal from a known dead, or I guess UNdead-world to ask travelers if they've gotten arcane loot they want to sell? I mean, I guess it beats hitting the kajillion or so pawn shops Sigil has, but still,..." Justin shrugs.
Isaac flips his hand back and forth.
"Eh, Dusties. Likely his superior's got a need fer somethin' outta Ranais and he's posted here teh try findin' it by chance. Or maybe the sod's got his heart fixed on somethin' and he tumbles teh savin' some jink and the jaunt. Whatever the dark of it is, cutter, we can always come back and ask for the Chant... if ye can stomach a Dustman tavern."
Isaac pauses in front of the poles, taking a look for any postings indicating a bounty for Talismin.
"See this, cutters? Ye heard the term 'knight o' the post', eh? Here are the posts, each festooned with noble personages. Let's see how ye rate, sister..."
Perception- looking for a bounty on Talismin:
Among the many overlapping tattered posters is a rendering of a female tiefling looking a lot like Talismin. The screed runs below her sketch:
For robbery, impersonating a Fraternity of Order official, unlicensed sentient sacrifice, and illegal mind control
Talismin of Ironcrag.
Alive: 1,000 Ladies, payable at Prison
Dead (proof of deceasement required): 500 Ladies, Payable at prison.
Isaac plucks the notice from the post and whistles.
"Impersonatin' a guvnor?! I should think a heinous crime o' that awesome magnitude would rate a bit more. Still, I can buy a new outfit fer my monkey with that kinda jink! Let's go have a word with the clerk, eh?"
Pulling Talismin along, the half-elf approaches the jail to get the party's reward.
"Sentient Sacrifice?" Karrin gasps, "Like human sacrifice or something? Lady if that's true I hope they take your head off and makes me sick that I'd ever thought to stick up for you."
The party heads towards the Prison at the other end of Petitioners Square.
To the Primes of the group, the Prison looks like a dour seige castle, albeit one with a glandular problem. Grey stone walls seventy feet high and studded with square watchtowers greet them as they walk the cobbeled road to the main entrance.
Like the Harmonium, the Mercykillers' working field uniform consists of red spiked plate mail. Several groups pass them, but only give them a cursory glance. It is obvious why the party is headed to the entrance.
As they pass the giant open double doors they come into a large foyer humming with activity. A row of splintery wooden high-backed chairs are filled with a cross-section of Cagers. The cries of small children mix with coughing and low-mutterered conversation. Mercykillers in red-and-black uniforms walk briskly to and fro on various errands. Several obvious bounty hunter types wait with cuffed prisoners, much like the party.
A set of signs directs the party to a line waiting on a window emblazoned INPROCESSING
After an hours wait, they approach the window. A fat Mercykiller squats at the desk behind the dingy glass.
"Names and nature of yer business." He barks out in a bored tone
"Karrin Kind of the Silver Rose company," Karrin says snaping to attention, "And we caught this dangerous criminal as she attempted to rob and possibly murder us. I believe there is a wanted poster somewhere around here with her name on it: Talismin of Ironcrag. That's the name she was using when she attacked us and the poster looks an awful lot like her. Either way we're here to turn her in for her crimes but if she's also a wanted felon with a bounty on her head even better."
The fat man squints at the gagged Talismin
"Right. Give me a second to get a proper identification."
He turns and yells down into a warren of offices
" WIX! Where are yeh, yeh poxy pretentious rock!"
Suddenly a strange sight greets the party. A transparent crystal skull with glowing blue eyes comes floating out of the back. It stops at the fat man's desk, bobbing slightly
"Unlike you, Ser. Gregau, I am very busy. What do you need?" The skull is talking audibly, but the voice doesn't seem to be coming from its jaw. It just seems to be as if a male cutter was standing nearby talking.
"Wix, you have an ID for this gagged perp?"
The skull hovers closer to Talismin.
"The physical resemblance to the sketch in my memory is very similar. Can you undo her gag for me?"
Isaac obliges, pulling the gag from Talismin's bonebox.
"Keep in mind she's a spellcaster, cutter."
The skull addresses the tiefling witch
"Are you Talismin of Ironcrag?"
Talismin spits and croaks out
"Never heard of her. I am Syranae of Dun Lormin"
The skull turns to the fat Mercykiller
"She's lying. Take her to the interrogation cells."
Talismin struggles, but several Red Death namers move quickly to subdue her. She is quickly dragged down a side corridor.
The skull speaks up again
"Give them a promisary note Gregau. The bounty is 1,000 Ladies."
The skull swivels to the party
"Thank you for assisting in bringing her to justice. We will need about a quarter-cycle to ascertain her identity for a surety. In five peaks take the note to the Mint and you will be able to redeem it for your gold. If it is deemed she isn't Talismin, the note will be worthless. Have a good peak citizens."
With that the floating crystal skull zooms off
Gregau the fat Mercykiller scribbles out a sheet of parchement and affixes a seal to it. He hands it to Issac.
"There you are. NEXT!"
Upon seeing the 'mind control' part of the notice, he nods grimly at Karrins words. He looks like he'd like to add something himself, but doesn't trust himself to speak. Coherently.
Looking like he's about to go stir crazy himself after an hour's wait, (Seeing the Harmonium had reminded him Murph, and the fact that last he knew, she had not been seen for a few days. With no other immediate, life-threatening concerns, he had started to worry about his diminutive friend), he follows the others up to the clerk.
He makes no pretense to hide his interest in the floating crystal skull, watching it the entire time after it's appearance. At it's final instructions and dismissal, Justin waves vaguely after it.
"Yeah. You too." He murmurs. Then turns to the others.
"Ok, Admit it. Now THAT was pretty cool!" he grins.
"Well now we are on a time limit," Karrin hisses into Isaac's ear, "They're going to start asking her questions and sooner or later they're going to ask her what she tried to rob us for and our little toy is going to come out. I doubt these mercykiller folk are going to take a disinterested view to that little tidbit, I'd say we have hours or days at the best to get rid of this thing before people come looking. We should definitely move."
"Get rid of it are you kidding me? You dont just get rid of something like that."
Justin looks slightly surprised at Merle. Her comment has obviously stolen the thunder of whatever he was going to say.
"Um, yeah. What she said!"
Isaac throws up his hands, but he's more weary than angry.
"The Red Death decides they want it, they can try and swipe the bloody thing. My screed from the start, if ye set yer brainbox back, was that we should bury it, destroy it, whatever. It's sodding tainted, using the thing is wrong and too tempting for any knight o' the post playin' with half a deck to use it fer easy jink."
"But, MS. Kind, ye'll recall that you said we should use it on fiends or "bad guys". Justin's in a twist to "study" it, whatever he's on about, and Merle wants to see how much jink we could amass with it. So we kept it. I ain't a bloody dictator; if I'm in charge o' you sods at all it's by your consent and we ain't always gonna see eye to eye. So I say we consult Renkar and figure out what teh do with the bloody thing."
Emerging from the depressing confines of the Prison, the party heads down the Guvner's Mile, a wide well-ordered boulevard fronted by shops and offices attending to the business of law and legal matters. A few ordered taverns and inns break up the monotony of legal practices and stationary shops.
The Guvner's Mile changes into the more upscale Razorvine on Hiddleton Road where the large public house/business known as the Interplanar Importerers and Merchant House Restaurant sits, it's gleaming fiedstone walls polished and large windows filled with animated cutters from all over the Great Wheel.
The party strolls into the neighborhood of wealthy merchants and aristocracy known as the Noble's District. Razorvine on Hiddleton is considered the cheaper side of the Noble's District, so the area is stocked mostly with shops catering to the exotic tastes of the district's dwellers. Carraiges pulled by horses, lizards and even a small dragon-kin pass them by as they walk on. Servants and the occasional foppishly-dressed berk throng the cobbled street.
Passing Plague Plaza, the party segues into the Market Ward. They see the Square Bar, the known favorite kip for Hardheads on patrol. They enter the main thouroughfare of their home ward, Copperman Way.
Copperman Way is thronged as usual with crowds of Cagers and Clueless going about the great concern of Sigil: Trade. The party keeps hands on purses and a peery eye for any knights of the post.
They pass Flourish Alley, with the Magic Vat alchmist shop on its corner. Justin glances down, but the foggy air obscures his appartment from view. They then come to Copper Court.
Down the sidecourt they go, passing the Copper Cauldron with a sigh. The smell of Bess' cooking reaches them as they pass the door.
The Silver Rose rears up from the fog, like an old familiar friend. They enter, and a very surprised Hanali Hal'Oight greets them, dressed in a flouncy dress covered in sapphire sequins.