Merle nods going to get ready before pausing "Oh uh I have a few things to talk to you about Renkar sir."Renkar pauses
"Go ahead Merle"
Merle explains the offer Skrint has made her and if that would in any way impact with her Silver rose work.
The foggy rainy day awaits. The bustle of life on Copper Court filters through the half-open door of the inn as they prepare their daily chores
"So what's the plan my man?" Karrin asks Ekuur, "You know where this guy hangs out? We gonna wait at your temple hopping he shows up? Or do we need to do some detective work? I think I might have a deerstalker cap and pipe in my disguise kit, just in case I ever got caught in a mystery, but I could probably use it for this as well."
"I believe my acolytes may know where to locate this man. If not, I'm sure it will not be difficult to find him by asking. He does not seem to be the type who would 'lie low', as the saying goes. Shall we depart?"
"Yep," Karrin says, "We should try not to kill him right? Make an example. I'm thinking that we don't want to get a reputation amongst the hard heads as being trouble. We're definitely going to rough him up though. I wonder if there's any place around here that sells tar and or feathers?"
"We will see. I also do not want anyone left who may try to come back for revenge, especially since we are not always around. A reputation as ones not to mess with is also a good thing, I think. But again, we can see how things go."
"Meh," Karrin says, "I got lots of enemies and not one has come back for revenge yet."
Ekuur smiles. "There is an old Athasian proverb I have often heard here in Sigil, so it must not be unique to my world. 'Revenge is a dish best served cold.' We must always keep that in mind. But let us depart and take care of thus nuisance."
"All dishes are best served with pickles," Karrin says, "Everyone knows that. Pickles and bread and butter."
Karrin and Ekuur set off after finishing breakfast into the rainy Sigil morning. Copperman Way is packed with early Peak business: Drovers cursing as their wagons cluster along the wide boulevard, workers streaming to their jobs, and a thread of Clueless clogging the roads as they stared around in shock and wonder.
The duo heads into the Lady's Ward, joining the throngs of servants scurrying to and fro on errands for their households. The Hardheads become more visible, as do liveried guards at the gated entrances lining the clean-swept streets.
The Nobles District fades behind them and the Court District rears its grey-granite head. The district is very busy with Guvners, Hardheads, Mercykillers, and their respective minions. The spike-crowned monolithic government buildings tower over them with rows of blank-eyed windows silenty watching them.
Past the Court District the Temple District begins with the immense complexes of the major powers. Odin, Zeus, Abadar, and Corellian's temples slide by as they make their way deeper into the district, heading towards Ekuur temple.
Ekuur's three acolytes await them at the entrance, decked out in their new military accoutrements.
Justin steps out into the rain, turning up the collar of his trenchcoat reflexively. The good thing about Sigil is that there was no real wind to contend with, or true cold. Just gallons of brown rain and thick fog.
Walking sprightly down the road, Justin heads out to the Great Bazaar. The sea of bright-colored pavilions seethes with activity as the the day begins. the smell of frying meats, brewing gahveh, and baking bread mingle in the foggy air.
Along one side of the bazaar is a side street called Casters Court. Various wizards and alchemists keep shops along its narrow confines.
Merle explains the offer Skrint has made her and if that would in any way impact with her Silver rose work.Merle nods going to get ready before pausing "Oh uh I have a few things to talk to you about Renkar sir."Renkar pauses
"Go ahead Merle"
Renkar frowns
"Well, you are free to persue what you desire, but we do have a contract to fufill for now. Taking off for a month might put you out of contact should we need you."
Ekuur's three acolytes await them at the entrance, decked out in their new military accoutrements. [/i]
"Time to spank us some extortionists," Karrin says, then she notices Ekuur's acolytes, "Hi ya, I think we met yesterday. I'm Karrin in case you don't remember."
With everyone dispersing, Nari gathered her courage and approached the newest addition to the Company.
"Ex-excuse me, R-rhiannon? I was w-wondering....er, that is....W-would you like to g-g-go with me? I'm just going to the Gatehouse, it's not a very nice part of the city....maybe you'd rather not....I just.....errr....well, I th-think that since the city is new to you...m-maybe you'd like to see more of it? It'sokayifyoudon'twanttoit'sprobablyadumbidea," she finished in one breath, blushing furiously.
"Yes, time to teach this Pulgh a lesson. Are you all prepared?' he asks, turning to his followers.
"Absolutely, Master Ekuur! We have all held our morning prayers, and I even led them through a short practice session with our new trikals. And good morning to you, Miss Kind."
Gurdough rubs a sore shoulder, and adds, "Yes. It was quite a session! Good morning, Miss Kind."
"Good morning, Master Ekuur. We are ready." She barely glances at Karrin before adding, "Morning."
Merle explains the offer Skrint has made her and if that would in any way impact with her Silver rose work.Merle nods going to get ready before pausing "Oh uh I have a few things to talk to you about Renkar sir."Renkar pauses
"Go ahead Merle"
Renkar frowns
"Well, you are free to persue what you desire, but we do have a contract to fufill for now. Taking off for a month might put you out of contact should we need you."
"Well I dont think it has to be right away." Merle pauses "Uh as for the second thing...now this may sound odd but those flowers you keep in vases upstairs are complaining that you dont let them get enough sun."
The three acolytes tell Ekuur and Karrin that Pulgh can usually be found in a tavern that also serves as the temple for a godling known as Cadean something-or-other, a newcomer to the district. Being a god of drunkeness, his temple is usually well-attended
The group heads out towards the drinking temple. It sits farther down the side of the less-known gods, but unlike many others, it looks to be in good repair. Even though the hour is early, there is already a good-sized crowd lounging around the open doorway. A genial man with a mug is emblazoned on a tavern-style sign, reading Caydan's Temple
Karrin selects a sober looking fellow and approaches him.
"Hey," Karrin says, "I'm looking for Pulgh. You seen him?"
The man, a sober-faced pushcart vendor stops hawking his wares and looks at Karrin
"Sure lass. He's the dandy with the ladies about him and the six or so big bloods guarding him. I believe he's inside his regular bout now"
He leans over the collection of candles, pinwheels, spirit money, and idols in his cart towards Karrin and whispers
"He's a little man, very short for human. Doss on the street says his mam was a halfling, but you didn't hear that screed from me"
To start, Isaac will try to grease some palms around this antipeak's case and try to discretely get an idea of what the Athar have been up to lately.
Diplomacy (gather information):
The attempt takes hours.
Karrin glances at Ekuur for his input.
Justin's Side trip,...
Justin left the offices of the Silver Rose, still grinning at the thought of a meeting between the brain rats and Merle.
Justin knew that time was short. To get done what he hoped he'd have to forgo trying to scribe any scrolls himself, and just settle for what he could find if was going to meet up with the others on time. Fortunately he was pretty sure he knew one shop that would most likely have all he needed. But he had one stop to make first. It was still pretty early, and the timing was perfect for a little cage-rattling.
Justin made his way through the now-familiar streets near the Rose offices, and headed directly for the Lower Ward. Once there he made his way to Ragpicker's Square, ignored the hawkers, got his bearings, and went down the street on the far corner. He headed for a Little Draukari, a Kobold neighborhood that bordered Ragpicker's Square.
Justin was used to usually being the tallest one on the street. (It made tailing people SO much easier, even though it made staying unnoticed problematic.) But here he stuck out like a sore thumb on a Hill Giant. There were Kobolds everywhere he looked. With the usual scattering of other races as was common in Sigil, but these were almost all universally shorter than the average humanoid as well. There were mostly kobolds, a few dour dwarves, some disgruntled looking gnomes, and a few dirty halflings looking like orphan children in their tattered clothes. Everyone watched him intently, only turning their heads when he looked directly at them. He did his best to hide his smirk. This time he wanted them to know he was coming. He knew the message would be moving far faster than his legs.
'The wizard is here. And he looks grumpy.'
He nodded politely to an elderly kobold pair lounging outside a ramshackle doorway, opened the door and stepped through. He was inside what might have been an open air courtyard in a more civilized portion of the city. But in the Lower Ward it was merely an unplanned space between buildings. Just a little larger than usual. But Justin knew it served as Marconi's entryway. It gave plenty of warning, and enough room to greet expected visitors, or send unexpected ones packing. Justin looked at the two obvious doors in good repair, then made his way to the one that looked like a bundle of boards nailed together, and opened it. He came face to face with a granite wall.
This particular granite wall was wearing an expensive, if ill-fitting suit, and was carved in the vague shape of an ape. The granite face peeled back one side of it's lip in a sneer. Or perhaps a smile. It was hard to tell.
“Hello Horace. Is the boss in? Silly question. Of course he is. Or you wouldn't be here. Tell him I want to see him will you?” Justin said with a smile. Horace didn't move. Not a flicker.
“Look big guy. Normally I'd enjoy nothing more than standing here and exchanging witty banter with you all day. But I've got kind of a busy day lined up, and I'm short on time. I promise not to take up too much of his time. But I need to ask him something. I don't particularly care if I go past you, around you, over you, or THROUGH you, but I need to talk to your boss. Now.” He said calmly.
“Please.” He added, delayed just enough to be considered an insult.
Horace still didn't move. Justin for his part did a pretty fair interpretation of a statue himself. He didn't think he could beat the gargoyle in a staring contest, (if only because he didn't think the gargoyle needed to blink, which Justin considered grossly unfair), but he wasn't going to back down either.
Justin continued to stare at the gargoyle. And continued, far past what would normally be considered comfortable, Or sane, even by Justin's excessive standards. Just as it was about to become too much for the impatient wizard to bear, and Justin was mentally opening his bag of '1000 things you don't say to a gargoyle if you like breathing' , another voice emerged from behind the granite bodyguard.
“Oh, for Valhalla's sake. Horace, kindly let the wizard pass. Before he loses what little self control he possesses, and the building spontaneously combusts.” The voice was cultured, confident, and precise. Even before Horace reluctantly backed out of the doorway with a last warning sneer, Justin knew it didn't fit the speaker. The voice sounded like it belonged to a suave businessperson, or a kindly priest. Perhaps one of the short folk. But it should NOT belong to the immaculately groomed kobold holding court in the room beyond. Unfortunately, it did.
“Thanks big guy. Hope your not expecting a tip.” Justin said pleasantly as he passed the gargoyle to enter the chamber. He pretended to not be impressed with the contrast the room made with the entryway. But it was hard. The building may have been cobbled together from salvaged lumber, but the chamber, and presumably the rest of the interior, had been rebuilt in stone. Thick stone from the look of it. Justin felt like he had just stepped into a castle's main hall. The chamber was large enough to host a ball, but with the business furnishings and equipment, it somehow looked too small, even for the diminutive reptile holding court at it's center. Justin took time to notice the small balcony was occupied, and that crossbows were in high demand in this quarter, then turned his smile back to the kobold.
“Marconi! My favorite reptile. Glad I caught you when you weren't busy.” He declared happily. Ignoring the stares and glares he received from the small crowd that was around the kobold, he walked over to the table that Marconi sat behind. The table and chair that the crime lord occupied were expertly-crafted, and perfectly sized for the kobold's frame. They were also on top of a raised platform that made sure that the lizard looked down on anyone shorter than a hill giant that entered the room.
“Thanks for seeing me. This won't take long.” Justin continued cheerfully, climbing the steps to the platform. He paused when the Fire Gensai he saw the night before stepped in front of him. Justin waited a moment. Raised an eyebrow, and waited another moment for the flame haired henchman to receive a barely perceptible, reluctant, nod of affirmation from Marconi. The Gensai stepped aside with a sneer, (Horace did it better) and Justin continued to the top of the platform.
“Like I was saying, thanks for seeing me. This won't take long. I just wanted to ask you a question. And give you something.” Justin finally managed to finish, pulling out his small 'bag of storage' from his coat. Immediately a half dozen hands reached for swords, daggers, crossbows and presumably arcane bric a brac. Marconi held up a perfectly manicured claw, and all motion ceased. Justin looked around. Slowly.
“Wow. And I thought I was high strung. Well-trained though. Congratulations.” Justin said with a smirk, carefully not moving. The kobold gave a long-suffering sigh. The hands released their weapons.
“Justin. To what do I owe this unexpected visit? Have you reconsidered my offer of employment? If not, kindly make whatever point you obviously feel entitled to make, and leave. You are not the only one with a busy schedule.” He pronounced it 'shed-yule'. Justin had to resist the urge to shudder. That baritone, cultured voice coming from a race that normally spoke in a high-pitched hissing just gave him the creeps.
“Sure thing. No problem. I just wanted to return something of yours that I think you left at my house last night.” Justin said pleasantly, opening the small magical pouch and dumping its contents onto the kobold's desk. The brain-rat, perfectly preserved by the bag's magic, fell with a frozen clink to the marble desktop. Frost still covered it's small face frozen in it's ratty grimace. The kobold looked at the rat for a moment, then his beady eyes narrowed in what Justin presumed was anger.
“And what, may I inquire, is this?” Marconi whispered softly. Any warmth the reptile may have had in his voice earlier was gone, and replaced with a palpable chill. Justin met it with a calm voice still warm from his own anger.
“This? Oh this is what's left of a swarm of rodents that were sent to infest my home last night. The rest are in the garbage.” He replied smugly. “They invaded my home to steal from me, and to harm me and mine. Obviously, they failed. What p!$$#$ me off is the attempt. You get upset because I turn you down, fine. You want to send goons to jump me in an alley or some summoned hit-demon to gank me in some back-water realm? Fine. Been there, done that. Got the body parts as a souvenir. But you do NOT invade my HOME. It may not be a palace,” Justin indicated the grand room around them, “But it IS my home. And anyone who invades my home better be inviting me into theirs.”
Marconi's beady eyes narrowed, and he inhaled through his nose. Justin held up a finger, just as the kobold had earlier. Marconi blinked in surprise. “Before you say anything, let me finish. What I have to tell you IS important.” Justin smiled.
“Imagine my surprise to find that it isn't common knowledge that brain-rats, when gathered together, gain intelligence. Now I admit, my first thought was that you sent them. Mainly because I can't think of anyone else that I've annoyed. Recently. Although I did think you had better manners than to invade my home. One scenario is that you sent them, if that's true, then you have a very unhappy wizard standing within arm's reach of you. The other scenario is that you did not send them. Which means that someone else is operating in what I had presumed was your territory.”
“Either way, I think you have a problem. Scenario two means that we have the same problem. Surprisingly, I find myself hoping this is the case.”
Justin stepped back from the desk and raised his hands in a 'who knows' gesture. “If you did not send them, but were able to tell me who did, I would be willing to look into your recent disappearances as payment for the information.” Justin offered thoughtfully, as if he had just occurred to him.
Marconi glared at Justin. Then glanced back at the rat now starting to defrost on his desktop. He relaxed, and leaned back into his high-backed chair. He steepled his claws together and rested his chin on them thoughtfully as he regarded the wizard and the rat with equal dispassion.
Karrin glances at Ekuur for his input.
Ekuur looks back at Karrin and his acolytes and shrugs. "It is a temple dedicated to drunkeness. Somehow I do not believe stealth is the appropriate answer. Nor are we the sneaky kind. I am guessing that this man will have more respect for a direct approach, in any event."
Ekuur then closes his eyes in prayer for a few moments, and a soft firey glow envelopes his trikal and Karrin's breastplate. "These enchantments will last for some time, so should be useful now and at our later mission."
With that, and unless anyone has an alternate idea, he walks into the temple.
Gurdough takes the time while his master prays to cast magic weapon on his own trikal, then follows Ekuur in (after Thelnarin).
Thelnarin agrees, saying, "That does make sense, Master Ekuur. I doubt this place would have much respect for those who go pussyfooting around."
He then also casts magic weapon and divine power on himself and follows Ekuur in.
Remaining quiet, Qurresia simply nods at her master's words. She follows everyone in.
"I think this is one of those man things," Karrin says, "Call him out, see if we can lure him into a fist fight or something. If we need to resort to weapons it could create some bad blood between our respective churches. Also we need to make sure folks know this isn't a us against them sort of thing, these guys obviously have a popular church going here and not all these folks are gonna be Pulgh supporters, and some might not even know what he's been up too. The last thing we want is people not hearing what's going on. So I figure we walk in, announce to everyone what he's been up too then publicly call him out, his five against our five, and then if he tries to talk us down we say we'll take all seven. I think I can probably deal with thee or so, but you'll need to deal with Pulgh. Talking him into a proper street fight would be best but if he wants to use weapons we got to really try not to kill anyone. That's always bad publicity. What do ya think?"
"That sounds sensible, I suppose. Although I am not so against killing him if need be. Chances are, if we were to eliminate him, his followers would be quick to abandon. But we can try it your way."
Turning to his acolytes, he announces, "As you heard, make every attempt not to kill anyone. Unless they attempt to first."
"Don't get me wrong," Karrin says, "There are lots of folks that need killing in this universe, but being lazy and a bully aren't automatic death sentences where I come from. Course he could also be stupid, in which case he'd be a complete loss, as lazy and stupid are a bad combination, but you know we're mercenaries not assassins, and people like folks in our line of work that can rough up the the undesirables and convince them to go away rather then the folks that walk in swords drawn stabbing folks in the head. That sort of thing causes unrest. Also that sort of thing attracts attention, you know with the local authority, and folks that can afford causing public displays of violence usually don't need mercenaries to send the message, usually cuz they are the authority and usually cuz they gots a private army to back them up."
Karrin loosens her battle axe, but walks into the temple without it drawn, and has a quick scan for Pulgh (asking for Ekuur to point him out if necessary). Then she climbs up on a table near where Pulgh is sitting (I'd assume they'd have tables for drinking in a temple of Caydan Cailean) and shouts:
"All right ya cutters," Karrin shouts, "I'm Karrin Kind, humble servant of the god Rao, and I'm here looking for a tiny yellow coward of a man by the name of Pulgh. Word is he's been slinking around the temple district with a bunch of goons stealing from the poor men and women in the service of the smaller temples. I'm here to call the weasel out, mainly to show the folks at the temple district what happens when you call a coward out, but also to smash his face with my righteous fists because I can't stand bullies. And you know you're unpopular when a humble servant Rao, god of peace, reason, and serenity is sent to rough you up.
"See if you can spot anyone that may have soiled themselves Ekuur," Karrin says as way of introduction to her partner in retribution, "Although I'm just a girl I'm sure now that he's been called out, we can follow a little brown or yellow trail leading to the back door."
Ekuur raises an eyebrow at Karrin's show, but steps forward and looks right at Pulgh (assuming we see him), and responds, "I believe this may be the coward you look for. I am Ekuur the Everburning, servant of the Sacred Flame. I have heard from my acolytes that you have been by my temple recently. I am sorry to have missed your visit, but since I'm here now, let us ... discuss what you wanted." Ekuur casually holds his trikal, the red and blue flames licking around the blades.
intimidate
The temple is set up much like a typical tavern , but the barmaids are in matching brown outfits with red sashes. The bar seems to double as an altar. Above it a large plaque reads:
Cayden's Catechism:
Be excellent to each other!
Party on, dudes!
a large hairy fat man dressed in brown robes stands behind the polished marble bar, staring at Karrin as she enters. A hush falls as she makes her declaration
In the back of the room is a large table. A small plump man dressed in rich velvets and silks sits on several pillows attended by a bevy of scantily-clad maids and a dozen burly toughs. The whisper of steel can be heard as swords come from scabbards. The large hirsute barkeep bellows
"No fighting in my temple Berks!!"
"I respect the sanctity of your temple," Karrin says, "Just toss the tubby little tyrant outside if you will, unless he somehow finds his manhood comes out on his own. The way I see it we can do it the easy or the hard way, and by the sounds of all that leather on steel some folks are looking to end this the easy way."
Karrin quickly pulls Ferissirion free and, with a seemingly casual display of strength, twirls the weapon with one hand and then holds the massive great axe up high for all to see.
"You Barnies want to throw down with a chick with a big glowing crystal axe and a massive man with a flaming club by all means let's cross swords," Karrin says looking directly at Pulgh, "But you want to settle this and keep your miserable cowardly life, but not necessarily your pride, then step outside and we'll have a proper scrap, I'll even let you bring some friends, what do you say? Five on five?"
"We will of course respect your place of worship, but I expect the same of you and your followers. Having a fat thug like this ... man, come to my place of worship demanding money is not what I would consider to be respectful. And we demand justice for this blasphemy. As my friend said, if you wish to avoid a large fight, bring this scum outside and we will settle there."
Thelnarin merely keeps his trikal at the ready, eying the thugs watching over Pulgh.
perception
Thelnarin merely keeps his trikal at the ready, eying the thugs watching over Pulgh.
perception 1d20+2
Rhiannon smiled warmly as Nari finished, an expression that was both welcoming and encouraging without a trace of being condescending. If what she knew of the few Elans she’d met on her world held true, the shy girl standing before her could easily be five times her age, yet couldn’t help but feel younger. From what she’d seen so far, Nari might be in many ways the most delicate and toughest member of the group all at once.
”Actually, I think its as good an idea as any. This city is amazing so far, but it’s also more than a little disorienting. I’d love to go with you. Besides, if it’s a rough part of the city, we can watch each other’s backs.”
Nari smiled shyly, happy that her invitation had been well received. "It is a rough area," she agreed, "but...well, you'll see. It isn't all bad."
There was still a lot of the city she didn't know, but even with fuzzy memories it was easy to find her way towards the Gatehouse. That was one route she didn't need a map for. She led the way, eyes wide as she took in the sights and sounds on the way.
"There's always so much to look at in Sigil....so many new things," she said, watching curiously as a pixie haggled with a fruit-seller. "I'm not sure I'll ever be able to just walk through it like it's normal," she added a bit sheepishly as she realized she was staring like a newly arrived clueless.
Nari and Rhiannon decide to visit the Bleaker's faction headquarters the Gatehouse.
They head out into the drizzly gloom. The Sigilian fog is cold and damp, but not terribly so. It is laced with the soot of a million hearthfires though, and breathing too deep is never a wise idea. The yellowish fog softens and blurs the busy streets, rendering them echoey and surreal.
Naridre decides to lead them over towards the Lady's Ward, since Rhiannon hadn't had a good look at it yesterday, and it was safer than trying to walk the Hive from its worst parts back to the Gatehouse. They head out onto the foggy length of the massive boulevard Copperman's Way.
The large artery is alive with fog-shrouded wains, riders and pedestrians of all shapes and sizes. Rhiannon is distracted by a garish wagon drawn by a draconian-looking animal with crystal horns. It runbles by, the florid writing on its side identifying it as Finnegul's Fantastic Components. A river of humanoids surges along the raissed cobblestone sidewalk. The duo segue into the chaotic river of Cagers.
The end of Copperman Way becomes wealthier and wealthier as they head into the ill-defined marchlands where the Market Ward becomes the Lady's Ward. The shops and side cul-de-sac roads become cleaner, well-painted and attended by red-armored Harmonium and private mercenary guards.
The shops peter out and Copperman Way ends at the Plague Victims Plaza. They head for Razorvine-on-Hiddleton, the main artery from the Noble District to the Court District. Rhiannon marvels at some of the mansions they pass. Many are cloaked in massive stone walls worthy of any castle. Others were cloaked in flowers, a strange sight in this drab city.
The road is packed with servants, nobles, wealthy merchants and their retinues, and a healthy admixture of Harmonium. The Square Bar, the Harmonium's 'local' tavern marks the entrance to Razorvine-on-Hiddleton.
They pass through the Court District, the magnificent mansions fading into somber legal houses and businesses dealing with law. Nari passes the City Court with a shudder. The large colonaded edifice was unnerving.
They take a left at a large building with a sign reading "Penbrum's Parchments and Papers Warehouse". They skirt the back of the Prison, where their former captive Talismin now (presumably) sits awaiting trial.
Headding down Advocates Row they ford a stream of dark-tuniced underbarristers clutching piles of parchmments ppages and vellum scrolls. The lawyer's offices start to be replaced by large temple structures as they emrge into the Temple District.
The first temples they pass are of well-known gods. Not all are nice. A massive basalt and granite tower marks the Temple of Maglubiyet. Hordes of goblins of varying hues and sizes occupy the surrounding neighborhood, which seems to be an enclave of lesser deified goblinoid temples as well.
They pass through the morning crowds of devout through the heart of the Temple District. The temples become smaller and plainer as they go, finally becoming lean-tos and crate houses. The priests inhabiting these take on a crazy messianic look as they extol the wonders of various obscure heros and martyrs.
Finally they enter the Lower Ward and the Swordhold District. The area is rife with merenary companies, and the clatter of sword and mail can be heard echoing out of the fog. Pawn shops and cut-rate armories line Doomguard Walk, the windows iron-barred to protect them from the entropy-loving faction members the street was named for. The sidewalk becomes more uneven, and garbage begins to collect in the corners of buildings.
Smith Street goes by quickly, the ring of hammers and the glow of dozens of hot forges lighting their way through the increasingly-sulphurous fog. They walk along Alehouse Row, the massive complex of taverns fairly quiescent, but still open for business. Despite the late morning hour there are still several passed-out drunks in the alleyways, some plucked bare of belongings.
They see the Great Foundry rising up like a giant fossilized dragon on their left-hand side. The massive central forge tower sends a gout of smoke up into the foggy Sigilian air as it had continuously for centuries.
They head off Alehouse Row into the Gear District along Gear Run, its main road. The shops here have wide windows decorated by fantastical clockwork creations of brass and iron. Many of the pedestrians seem to be fantastical creations of brass and iron as well. Leather-apronned Gnomes with shockingly-colored pixie mops of hair argue amongst themselves on the sidewalk, one drawing blue-glowing elaborate diagrams in the foggy air with a small wand.
Gear Run turns into the Alley of Dangerous Angles at the beginning of the sinister Hellgate District. This Lower Ward neigborhood is where the expatriate fiends that call Sigil kip live. Since it is getting to almost Peak there are few in evidence, but the stores and appartment buldings fronting the street reflect the culture of the Lower Planes. They pass the basement bar Caritas, domain of the enigmatic oracle bard Lorne.
Finally Hellgate falls behind them and they approach the massive water-filled scar in Sigil's side affectionately callled "The Ditch". Gramercy Street and its importer and teamster shops leads them to the Zaddfum Trestle, a long stone span decorated with soot-stained nautical statues. The bridge is crowded with pedestrians headed in and out of the Hive Ward, the poorest of Sigil's regions. Few mounts can be seen, and the crowd becomes much more shabbier and gaunt. Crowds of small dirty children cast lines down from the sides into the greenish water many meters below. One hauls up a bizzare-looking creature resembling a cross between a spiny lobster and an eel from the reeking stretch of water. A motley of boats and rafts sail along the green waves, hunting aquatic portals to hundreds of different oceans. Quick flashes of light and small patches of rapidly-dispersed blue water mark when a ship departs.
The Madhouse District is where the Bleak Cabal reign. Despite its rather fearsome appelation it was one of the quieter neighborhoods of the Hive. There were many disturbed people on the street, but there was also quite a few Bleakers in their black-on-black faction garb assisting those they could. There were few bub-houses, bordellos or drug dens within the area. The giant edifice known as the Gatehouse looms up ahead, the stylized giant spiked arch that rises above the cental entry courtyard wrapped in deep fog.
The large central courtyard is packed with Hivers looking for help of one form or another. Some are disturbed, some starving, some homeless. Troops of black-tuniced Bleakers spread out among them handing out thin blankets, loaves of black bread and what advice they have. Long lines of folks wait to talk to the various Admittance windows.
Nari knows a few of those on duty, and it's no problem getting into the asylum wing dedicated to long-term care Majeed dwells on. She finds him dozing, looking older and frailer than she remembered. Down the hall she spies the fearsome-looking-but-friendly Hlar helping another inmate to a window seat in a smal common room.
"We will of course respect your place of worship, but I expect the same of you and your followers. Having a fat thug like this ... man, come to my place of worship demanding money is not what I would consider to be respectful. And we demand justice for this blasphemy. As my friend said, if you wish to avoid a large fight, bring this scum outside and we will settle there."
Pulgh gets up, surrounded by his minions
'You disturb my morning. Let us not disturb the noble Hiaza and his temple."
He nods to the furry priest/barkeep
"Outside then. We can discus things there"
The minions and Pulgh walk to the door, blades at the ready
Justin's Side trip,...
** spoiler omitted **...
Marconi smiles thinly
"I do not control any brain rats. If I wanted something from you I would use ...other methods"
Justin gets the feeling he is telling the truth
"There's an old saying in my business, 'stick to what you know'. I don't use abberrant vermin when there's plenty of the garden variety about."
Marconi leans forward and gestures. A muscled teifling who looks like he grew his own plate armor out of his skin picks up the half-frozen rat and scuttles off
"You want answers about psychic rats, find a psychic cat. Or a psychic ratcatcher. Brain dazzling ain't my specialty."
Marconi glances hard at Justin
"And I don't appreciate being bothered by your monkey face this early in the peak because you had a run in with a smart swarm of brainy rats. Contrary to your paranoia I am not behind every downturn in your sad life."
The various minions attending him in the posh room bristle, sensing the anger flowing from Marconi. Justin can see hands reaching for weapons.
"Now, you have disrespected me in front of my men. Accused me of siccing some odd monster on you. Dumped a rat carcass on my Bytopian Opalwood desk. And now you want to bluster about payment?"
Marconi stands up. There must be a step in from of his chair since he doesn't seem to be as short as he should be. He gestures at Justin, his glowing draconic cats-eye pupils narrowing to bare slits.
"Tell me, Mr. Case, why I should let you leave this room at all?"
Karrin hops down from the table and casts bull strength on herself before skipping outside.
To start, Isaac will try to grease some palms around this antipeak's case and try to discretely get an idea of what the Athar have been up to lately.
Diplomacy (gather information): 1d20+8
The attempt takes 1d4 hours.
Issac wends his way along the foggy streets with Rhiannon and Naridre until he hits Hellgate. He heads into the Shattered Temple district off the Alley of Dangerous Angles, leaving the others to continue on into the Hive.
The Shattered Temple District is dominated by the ruined hulk of Aoskar's Temple, its crumbling towers looming like a skeletal hand over the roofs of the tenements. The Athar keep kip there, grinding out their reams of anti-deific broadsheets that seem to paper every wall in the Lower and Hive Ward.
Off Brandy Lane, the route to the Athar's headquarters , a tavern by the name of the Soused Duck caters to the drinking Defiers. Issac ghosts his way inside without problem.
Inside is a large common room with a staircase leading to upper floors and another leading downwards. Several groups mutter amongst themselves, some rather loudly. The bar is lined with solitary drinkers, most wearing some symbol of the Athar on their person.
Issac:
Group initiative:
As they approach the doors Karrin begins talking again in hopes of distracting her enemy long enough for all the parties to get outside:
"So we going by informal street fight rules or are we going to go with a more standardized rule of fighting like the Queensberry or Code duello rules or are we just going to play it by ear and run with the general guidelines like, first blood or till someone is unable to continue? Because if you guys are using weapons I'd like for it to be publicly stated before one of you ends up dead that we weren't the ones that decided to go to the death. I mean honestly guys . . ."
Bluff:
Karrin attempts to pretend that she's looking to have more discussion before sucker chopping two of the guards with the flat of her axe (using cleave if the fist attack hits):
first attack:
non lethal damage + Lethal cold damage
cleave if the first attack hits:
non lethal damage + Lethal cold damage
" . . . Do you want me hitting like that or should I use the blade? These things have to be decided before things get serious."