"Yeah. That's pretty much what Erehe and the Drow lady said too."
Justin protectively recovers the rest of his battered notebook, although Renkar only pulled the last page out. The wizard tucks it back inside his coat.
“Perhaps after you all rest, we can have a debriefing in the Before Peak in our office?”
"Sounds good to me boss. We can give you all the details. Including a shortcut from the drow city right back to Sigil. Figure even if it's one-way it's still one of those 'nice-to-know' things that Sigil-ites always seem willing to pay for." Justin smirks.
Justin looks at the others, stands and stretches his lanky frame until something pops.
"Well, For ONCE it isn't the dark side of never. So I'll go get Memnon settled and make sure my poor apartment hasn't burnt down. See you all Before Peak."
;P
Justin makes sure to call thanks to Romana, and heads out the door, Memnon floating along beside him, as the early after-peak customers are starting to roll in. As they exit, The wizard seems to be arguing with the crystal skull about the titles of books?
"Naughty Nixies of the Nile?"
"I don't think they have that one."
"Lusty Ladies of Latveria?"
"Hard Pass."
Big B**%$, High Heels and Great Guns?"
"I,... What the heck is a 'Gun'?"
"I don't know. But if it goes with the rest, I WANT ONE!"
Hamar has a puzzled look at Renkar as he mentions debriefing, "I shall return after debriefing the Drow, whatever I miss you shall inform me what to stalk and kill yes Wizard?"
Justin nods agreeably.
"Sounds like a plan Hamar. 'Debrief' away. Tell the ladies I said 'HI' won't you?"
Justin shakes his head slightly, a small smirk on his face.
"WHY do I think that Skyy might actually LIKE to meet those two guides?"
The scant brightness of the sky has faded as Antipeak sets in . Justin ambles over to the office and heads down to his lab. Everything looks as expected, nothing looks awry. Memnon floats over to his shelf and settles in
"Go have fun, boss. I'm going to catch up on my reading"
Justin heads over to his apartment, he sees Skyy coimng out. She squeals and runs up to hug him. She is obviously getting set to go to work
"Hi baby! When did you get back?"
Justin scribbles a couple of notes while Memnon gets re-acquainted with his 'library' of copper-dreadfuls. The mage puts a paperweight on top of the notes.
"Just some ideas I want to go over with you later. Have fun reading."
Justin salutes Memnon with two-fingers and locks the lab behind him as he leaves. Using his still-active long-duration flight spell the mage makes excellent time back to his apartment.
As Justin lands in frot of his tenement building, he sees Skyy coming out. She squeals and runs up to hug him. She is obviously getting set to go to work.
"Hi baby! When did you get back?"
Justin laughs and hugs Skyy back enthusiastically. The tall mage picks her up and turns around with the much shorter Skyy before setting her back down.
"Just got back now, actually. Wait, does this mean that I'm actually in time to catch your show?!? For once?! Whattya know, every once in a while the planar wheel really DOES turn my way!"
Justin kisses the air gensai on the forehead.
"Just let me toss my pack and make myself presentable. I'll give you a ride to work. Goldenwing is due for some fun time! We can do a late dinner. Or better yet, and early breakfast!"
True to his word the mage swiftly stores his handy haversack, splashes some cold water on his face, and uses his prestidigitation charm to clean his clothes and make them fresh. Then he uses his magical armbands to change his clothes to something more appropriate for an evening out.
Once back outside Justin secures the apartment and tosses the small statuette into the air, summoning the hippogryph to a squeal of delight from Skyy. They ride Goldenwing across the Wheel, avoiding the other flyers out this evening, (Justin thinks he catches a glimpse of a familiar flying carpet-contraption making a run.) While taking their time to enjoy the flight, Justin makes sure to get Skyy to work on time. Landing the hippogryph near the entrance. When he reaches up to help her dismount, she practically jumps off of Goldenwing and lands in his arms.
Skyy gives Goldenwing a hug and dashes inside, practically flying herself. Justin spends a few more moments talking to Goldenwing (promising more time for flights than he has gotten lately) before restoring the hippogryph to its statuette form and tucking it in his pocket. The wizard follows Skyy into 'The Fallen Angel' at a much more sedate pace.
"Unarmed and bound Karrin Kind spoke to Drow Mistresses and here we stand, still alive, not sacrificed to any of their Evil Gods.
There is no doubt more that should be relayed but this may be the most impressive feat any group of adventurers or mercenaries or whatever we are, have undertaken to live to tell the tale".
At least that's the part that Hamar remembers the best!
"Oh don't be silly Hamer, I'm trained in the arts of unarmed combat, I was never truly unarmed, although with my hands bound I would have had to rely heavily on the double handed axe handles, headbutts, and knees, and the flying varieties of those moves, i.e. the flying double axe handle, the flying headbutt, and the flying knee, but while that would have limited my options and stuff, that's still like 6 moves to choose from. More options than our spell casters really."
Justin heads off to the Fallen Angel with Skyy. The club is busy with the tattered aristocracy of the Hive: Slumlords, pushers, sleazy merchants, faction gangs, cully bashers, and knights of the post.
Justin takes a somewhat quiet corner where he can watch the stage but not be crowded. A server brings him the beverage of his choice. As he sips his drink and takes in the ambiance, he gets an odd feeling, like someone is watching him
Justin sips his drink, resisting the urge to tense up.
This wasn't the FIRST time the mage had felt his skin crawl because it felt like someone was eyeing him. (And probably wouldn't be the last.)
Justin puts his drink down after his sip, and oh-so-casually scans the room for anyone who might be showing more interest in HIM than in the performers. (Such an interest could only mean they are up to no good. OR simply have no taste.)
Sadly, the much-traveling-mage is easily distracted by the available sights himself. OR, he has been traveling so much recently that he has lost the fine edge of paranoia that instinctively allows one to spot trouble in Sigil. (Where everyone is potential trouble.)
The problem is, there are so many sketchy characters in this bar, Justin has no way to know what triggered his heebeejeebies. Maybe all of them. Maybe he needs a double next round…
Justin sighs and takes another sip.
Maybe he IS just being paranoid. (MAYbe) Or maybe the last few days traversing planes helter-skelter have finally ganged up on him to wear him to the point of exhaustion. (Far more likely) Or at least to the point where he's just so bone-weary brain-dead tired he's having a hard time telling friend from foe. (DING-DING I think we have a winner!)
Either way, his armor spell is still running, he still has most of his daily spells un-spent, and anyone willing to outright attack him in THIS crowd is crazy, desperate, or insane. And the two-headed bouncer is on duty tonight. (The one with the snake for a second head) And that one pities the fools who start fights in here. As he throws them outside. So, yeah, they'd have to be insane.
Making sure he saves a few coins to toss at Skyy when she's on stage, Justin waves down a passing waitress of orcish ancestry for another drink. A double. After a moment he makes it two drinks.
He came here to enjoy himself and relax for just a little bit. And anyone stupid enough to interrupt that tonight was going to get a fireball in the most uncomfortable place he could target.
(That doesn't mean he was going to be stupid about it however. He keeps his back to the wall of his not-TOO-crowded corner, and makes occasional scans of the crowd between acts. Heck, maybe it was just a Silver Rose fan who wanted an autograph. It could happen,...)
The orcish barmaid brings his order, smiling a tusked grin at Justin’s tip. Firzilda wasn’t truly an orc, although she presented as one through a quirk in her Hiver ancestry. Like many Hivers, her family tree looked more like a bramble bush.
Justin sips on his drink, made unwatered thanks to his relationship to Skyy and regular attendance here. He keeps a scan of the bar, and isn’t all that surprised when a lanky figure makes his way towards his position. He had seen the gentleman earlier, but hadn’t thought much of him. A tall pale man, possibly human, dressed in an old stained suit and wearing a tall stovepipe hat with a prominent Dustmen symbol affixed to the hatband. He approaches adjusting and grins, displaying a mouth full of large decaying teeth as crooked as an older graveyards tombstones. His hair is salt and pepper. It hangs long and greasy to just past his fraying collar. His eyes are two black stones in his gaunt face
“Good Afterpeak, cutter. Fancy a bit of company?”
The man’s accent is odd, almost similar to the swamp patois Justin had heard at that one inn near Plaguemort they had stopped at on their way to Erelhei-Cinlu. The one full of gators and Khaasta
Justin looks UP at the 'gentleman'. (An unusual situation for him normally, but he is sitting down.) And tries very hard to keep his face neutral.
Justin normally tries hard not to be judge-y, at first glance he can't tell if the man is just an old-school Dustman, (trying his best to look in life as he expects to look afterwords), or if he got tired of waiting and is already an undead of some sort.
The drawling accent didn't help. It wasn't unpleasant per se', but it did bring back far-too-fresh memories of Khaasta and Gators.
And Justin really hadn't been looking for company in either case.
Still, people usually came looking for him for one of two general reasons. Ignoring the first one was a good way to end up on the wrong side of a pointy weapon when you least expected it. And ignoring the second one? Well, Justin's pockets were never so full that they couldn't benefit from another paying client.
And after all, after ALL this time, it was HIGHLY unlikely that this had ANYTHING to do with that little-bitty, teensy-weensy misunderstanding between the Rose crew and their accidental, unintentional, Mortuary-trespassing-that-never-happened. Right?
RIGHT?!?!?
Justin blinks as his thoughts process like a lightning bolt, and gives a friendly nod to the man in return.
"Good Afterpeak cutter. Well that depends. Are you here for business or pleasure? If business, These aren't my usual hours. But I can always spare a few moments for a client in need. If pleasure, I'm afraid I'm already taken. Or so I'm told."
Justin gives a friendly if small smile at the last bit.
The tall man sits down across from Justin..
“I’m not a client, but I might have some darks for you if you have an ear”
Justin thinks for a moment. Then, slowly, slides his yet-untouched second drink towards the pale man.
"You have my attention. What can I do for you Mister,...?"
The man smiles his crooked grin
“The names Rotting Jack. I’m a … representative of certain interests. They aren’t allowed to come to Sigil in person, so they send poor Jack to be their messenger “
Jack throws his drink down his throat, his Adam’s apple working furiously. He calls for another from Firzilda.
“Ah, there’s nothing like a straight glass of Old One Eye. “
He sips his new drink
“You’ve been starting to play in the big leagues, my friend. It hasn’t gone unnoticed. This quest you’ve been on. It touches on things that involve Powers. And for the likes of you and me, that can be dangerous “
He leans closer. Justin smell a faint whiff of corruption. Rotting Jack’s skin at close range seems to slightly … wriggle … in places. As if something burrowed beneath his skin
“News of your exploits in Erelhei-Cinlu travelled fast. Those I work for know that you know the Name. Normally this would cause you to get scribed in the dead book, but …”
The odd man looks at Justin’s face with those flat doll eyes.
“My boss thinks you might work to her purposes. So, she’s offering an assist”
He pulls a small clear crystal from a vest pocket and sets it on the scarred table
“That will lead you to the item you want to destroy. Just do not think you can keep it. My boss will be on you wherever you go. Plus, even if you escape her, He Who Owned It certainly won’t give up on regaining it, ever”
Justin nods slightly as the man (living or otherwise?!?) speaks his peace.
At the scent of corruption, and the odd 'wriggling', Justin's mind runs overtime trying to figure out,...
'Whatheheck? OK I KNOW I haven't seen anything like that before. I'd remember something like that. Wait,... Sigil is an equal-opportunity town. The only 'persons' that aren't allowed into Sigil by the Lady is,... Just WHO (or 'what') is this 'SHE' that Jack works for,...?!?'
Justin examines the small, clear crystal sitting on the table, but makes no move towards it.
"That is, very kind of your boss. Especially considering the previously-mentioned 'normal' option." Justin says politely, choosing his words carefully.
Well, 'carefully' for HIM, at any rate.
"Yeah, I get the impression that 'He-Who-Must-Not-Be-ReNamed' isn't a big forgive-and-forget kinda guy." Justin adds dryly. The wizard takes another sip of his own drink,...
'Shoulda ordered the triple when I had the chance!'
"I really DO appreciate the offer of assistance. Although, I admit to being curious as to how this would help your boss? I have to warn you though, If we're negotiating a trade of favors, I'm kinda backed-up on my 'favors-owed' card. By about a hundred years." Justin smirks wryly.
'Give the wizard the 'Understatement of the Century' Award. At THIS rate, I'm going to have Powers fighting over who gets my soul. First.'
"Buuut, If we're discussing a simple trade of 'finding said object', with 'destroying said object', I think we can probably make a deal."
Justin snorts a laugh. "And don't worry. Like any Archmage-In-training, I admit I'm a teensy bit obsessive over magical artifacts. But I'm not crazy! Some items just are not meant to be,... Just 'NO'. It will be destroyed."
Justin is smart enough to put the puzzle pieces together. This ‘Rotting Jack’ isn’t undead, but isn’t human. He’s working for someone who can’t come to Sigil themselves, someone tied intimately with Orcus and his wand. Someone who would know what transpired in Erelhei-Cinlu less than 24 hours ago, and who was able to send someone to Sigil to talk to Justin in that timeframe. There is only one entity that fits the criteria- Kiransalee. Drow goddess of Undeath. Rotting Jack is likely a demon of some sort with a high-level glammer on so to not scare the locals. Possibly he might even be a proxy of Kiransalee
Rotting Jack grins
“The favor in this instance would be destroying that artifact. It’s a win-win. You save the multiverse from a demon-god who will be reborn pissed off and ready to throw a planes-wide tantrum. One who managed to somehow gain the knowledge of the Last Word. If he should regain his full strength, it could throw the entire Wheel into chaos. My boss doesn’t have to worry about being target numero uno on said demon-God’s hit list”
He looks at Justin
“I used to work for him, you know” He says, draining his drink and calling for another
“He was a right tough bastard once, one of the first True Tanar’ri to emerge from a human soul in the Abyss. He led the overthrow of the Obyriths during the Abyssal Wars. Sadly, he got fat and sloppy at the end. It was a relief to turn stag on him and throw in with the new boss. I don’t want to know what he would be like if he comes back”
He touches the crystal with a long dirty-nailed finger
“There’s no strings on this. It’s a gift. And a warning. My boss wants that thing destroyed. She couldn’t figure it out, but she’s hoping you will. She can’t pin down whatever revenant shadow of him that’s operating out there. It’s too crafty. But your crew has followed some excellent breadcrumbs. Just don’t hold on to it once you find it. Once it leaves Agathion, he’ll know. And he’ll know exactly where it is. You have to figure out how to destroy it and do it there”
Rotting Jack tosses his third drink down and stands. He nods to Justin
“I wish you best of luck. You’ll need it”
"Huh. Well,.. That sounds,... fair. And I DO like playing the hero. So much more exciting than 'Scroll-scriber' as far as professions go."
The wizard listens to 'Rotting Jack's' brief trip down memory lane with undisguised interest. And a touch of horror. For several reasons. He nods agreeably with Jack's statement about 'not wanting to know what he would be like if he comes back'.
"Yeah. After our little visit to Erelhei-Cinlu, I have to agree completely." Justin salutes the tall figure with his still-half-full glass.
Justin touches the gem himself once Jack pulls his finger back.
"Agathion huh?"
Justin snorts. A small but genuine bleat of amusement.
"Well shucks. THAT was going to be my 'Million-Gold-Piece' question'. I'll take 'How to destroy an undeniably evil artifact for 500GP Alex' Now I'll have to go with my backup question." Justin smirks.
Justin picks up the gemstone and holds it up.
"Mr Rotting Jack, I believe we have reached a 'Mutually Beneficial Arrangement'."
'If not exactly mutual on the 'Who Faces Mortal Peril' front.'
Rotting Jack tosses his third drink down and stands. He nods to Justin“I wish you best of luck. You’ll need it”
"Thank you." Justin replies, both sincerely and surprisingly free from sarcasm.
"I'll take all of THAT that I can get."
"Oh, And tell your boss,... tell her that I said 'thank you' as well." Justin adds straight-faced as he tucks the gemstone into one of his many pockets for safekeeping.
The lanky form of Rotting Jack disappears out the Fallen Angels doorway, and Justin gets to relax the rest of the evening. He heads back to his apartment with Skyy, taking a carriage due to the late hour snd Skyy’s heels.
In the morning, Justin arises and untangles himself from the blue octopus that is a sleepy Skyy. He washes and dresses, staring at the small cracked mirror over his washstand. His apartment was aging, growing more decrepit by the day. The stone floor was always damp, and a steady trickle of water invaded from the crookedly-hung front door towards the small drain that was set in the floor. Said drain was looking rather blocked, and a small puddle was beginning to form there.
Justin sighed.
Not the usual, loud, dramatic sigh. THOSE he reserved for an audience. And for something (or someone) that irritated him enough to well and truly deserve the 'longsuffering-archmage-in-training-sigh'. (Patent Pending).
No. This was just the regular sigh of a man who realized that no matter how much he tried, he was still just an average wizard, and not an Archmage. Yet. Stubbornly taking on planar travelers and former Powers that were WAY out of his weight class. Determined that he would somehow win and save the day. And yet he couldn't keep a tiny floor drain from backing up.
Of course, SOME folks considered that such menial tasks were far below the attention of an arch-mage-in-training. He DID have a landlady after all.
Yeah, Justin didn't much care for those kind of folks either. Besides, he felt bad asking the elderly witch (rumored, but she kept enough cats for Justin to accept it at face value) to take care of something so minor. IF he was so awesome, He should easily be able to handle such trivial tasks himself. It wasn't as if the landlady was bleeding him dry for rent like SOME he had run into.
Justin's eyes narrow slightly as he peers at the offending non-draining drain. He glances across the room at a previous hole in the wall. Some well-meaning but ham-handed wizard had tried repairing it after receiving a midnight visit by a group of cranium rats. The results were,... well it was repaired. But said wizard was in no danger of being mistaken for a professional carpenter. Thank goodness for potent crafting spells!
Justin sighed again. He shrugged into his shirt and vest, looking around the space once more.
Maybe he should do his landlady, and Skyy, a favor and fix the place up some. He had been traveling so much recently that he hardly got to spend any time with the petite firecracker. The least he could do was give her a nice(er) place to crash.
Justin looked at Skyy still asleep on the bed. He grinned at the pixie-esque features, knowing full well they belied a mercurial temper (A cross somewhere between a mischievous teen, and a Calistrian Mistress of Intimate Ceremonies), and a tongue that would make a Dystopian sailor blush. Skyy smiled in her sleep and snuggled deeper into the covers, as if pleased at the gaze upon her.
Justin wondered, for maybe the hundredth time, where this relationship was going. Even when he wasn't too busy gallivanting around the Planes to think about it, he didn't really want to press his luck and ruin a good thing. The wizard didn't delude himself. (Usually. Too much.) But he knew he was no 'Wizard-Knight in shining spells', and Skyy was NO 'damsel', and was rarely in any distress she couldn't get herself out of. But he liked being with her. And he had missed the moment when he had stopped thinking of the ramshackle apartment and Skyy as independent entities, and started thinking of them as 'Home'. As in 'This Ranais plane sucks and I can't wait to get back Home'.
Justin smirked as half-remembered conversations with Issaac danced across his brain. The planar ranger would be telling Justin 'I told you so!' about now. And insist that Justin ante up for the next round of drinks.
Justin shakes his head to clear it of cobwebs and memories. He smirks as he makes his way towards the drain. His next REAL day off he would give this place a good, magical cleaning. Maybe some new paint? But first he would start with the obvious. His trusty, simple cleaning charm should unclog the drain.
Of course, he was always complaining about the constant travel between Copper Street and the apartment. Was there really any need for him to keep it? It wasn't like he was trying to keep his relationship with Skyy a secret. Why WAS he holding onto it? Maybe he should ask Skyy if she wanted to move. It wasn't like she had a lot of stuff. Most of the knick-knacks and assorted junk was Justin's. And he had an actual LAB for that sort of thing now! Maybee,....
Justin bit a lip as he pondered important things.
"Now. What seems to be YOUR problem Mr. drain? What have we got gumming up the works? Mold? Mildew? Dust? Hair? Remnants of the last time Skyy came home drunk after partying with her friends?" Justin addresses the drain as he squats on his heels to get a better look.
Justin casts his cleaning charm over the drain, concentrating on removing debris that might fall into any of the previously-mentioned category. His mind is still pondering possibilities that he hadn't allowed himself to ponder much recently.
The drain begins to clear out. The puddle becomes incrementally smaller. There is still a deep chill in the cellar apartment. Maybe it was time to think about a better kip. Boccob knows Skyy has hinted several times that she feels his apartment is lacking. Copper Court where the Silver Rose offices and the Copper Cauldron are is a nice neighborhood. He’d even seen one three-floored building for sale a few doors down.
Justin nodded at the (barely) shrinking puddle in satisfaction.
If he was being honest, he half-expected an otyugh or, something worse, to stick a tentacle up the drain looking for its next meal. THAT would have been the final straw.
Justin stopped.
WHY did it seem like he was always reacting to world-shattering (or at least apartment-collapsing or friend-kidnapping) calamities before reacting? Weren't Arch-mages supposed to be making OTHERS react to THEM? Reshaping the Cosmos to their desires?
Justin snorted a laugh. Imagining the (mostly insulting) things that Memnon would have to say on the subject. (Mostly repeats of something the crystal Mimir had already said, just to rub it in.)
Fine. Maybe it WAS time to step it up. Heck, he was already in line to duke it out with a re-born Evil Power. (With both a Capital E & P!) What was a little warping-of-reality-to-suit-his-whims compared to that?
Heh. Before he started flexing his magical muscles (especially in Sigil!) it was time to use his brain. THIS time he was going to go in smarter, not luckier.
Justin kissed Skyy on the forehead. "Dance your heart out tonight doll. If I survive this next trip, we're moving up!" He whispered.
Justin shrugged into his leather coat and Rose cloak, cast his long-lasting daily spells, turned his magical cap into a wide-brimmed hat, raked it to a jaunty angle, and exited the apartment.
A swift flight later he landed in front of the Great Library. Justin fairly dashed through the stacks until he located his target. O.L.L.I.
Justin glances furtively around, making certain no one else seems to be close enough to overhear.
"O.L.L.I.! I hope you got the last payment I sent you? Your information was spot-on by the way. As usual. Thank you."
Justin bites his lip. Adding another to the list who 'know' is dangerous. But they NEED the answer like, yesterday. It's worth the risk. It has to be. He would try to keep the info given to a minimum, but the librarian needed enough info to work with,... He took one last glance around.
"O.L.L.I., I need your help. I can't think of ANYone else who could possibly find the answer in a short enough time. I need to know how to completely destroy an ancient True Artifact. Undeniably Evil, Unbelievably Powerful. And it HAS to be destroyed on Agathion. AND of course, we're on a deadline. AND yes, if we don't destroy this item swiftly enough, the entire Wheel could be at risk. And NO, I'm not exaggerating."
Justin raised an eyebrow,
"Is that enough of a challenge for you?" He grinned.
As what serves as morning dawned, the Barbarian untangled himself from the two drow women who almost manged to wear the man out. Clerics though, have ways to reinvigorate a man and the two females gave the term dervish dance a new meaning.
Dressing he exited their quarters saying not a word, after all, he knew this for what it was.
As he roamed the streets of this insane otherworldly place surrounded quite literally by Angels and Demons, the Barbarian's thoughts drifted to Belit. A captivating woman to be sure and perhaps even more dangerous than the two he just left behind.
But what was that something that was so damned captivating about her? Behind that smile and lithe body lurked a predator. Hamar had always been attracted to dangerous women. He had doubts that he could trust her and yet he did. It was not until he reached his new base of operations, so deep in thought he did not even gawk like a, what did they call him, a Berk? whatever that meant, that he put his finger on what disturbed and captivated him about Belit, she reminded him of his thrice damned mother.
Shivering despite it not being cold, the Barbarian entered the Silver Rose to seek out his companions...
Chadra and Alerra murmur sleepily as Hamar departs. The Drow women knew what it was as well, and wave languidly as he departs. The two have apartments in a subterranean gallery of living spaces called the Grey Street Close, which sits under Red Street, a major tributary of the Gear District leading to Alehouse Road.
Grey Street Close is sculpted in a very Underdark fashion, and Hamar is unnerved by the similarity to the architecture of Erelhei-Cinlu. Drow are the main inhabitants, but being in Sigil, Hamar goes unremarked. He emerges into Red Street and begins to walk towards Alehouse Row. Red Street is lined with specialty armor shops, , as well as a few pawn shops that feature weapons and armor. At the intersection of Alehouse Row and Red Street is The Sticky Web, the tavern that Hamar caroused with his Drow female friends. It has turned out to be a Drow-ethnic tavern, but not as disquieting as the inn he had stayed at in the Foreigners Ghetto.
Alehouse Row is a monument to excess. Even early, the street is awash with revelers. The third-shift Great Foundry Godsmen workers are just warming up, and grifters, mercenaries, murderhobos, and their ilk are joining in on the early-morning fun.
Hamar traces his way through the throngs, ever vigilant for any of the foot pads that infest this boulevard. He walks out across Swordhold, the district where mercenaries of every stripe can be had for the right price. He walks to Meatmarket Square, and the fried kebab stalls get his stomach growling with the scent of dozens of different grilled meats
He walks through the Temple District, he passes temples as small as a hermit’s blanket to massive basilicas that cover an entire block and soar into the sky. Past the Temple District the drizzle increases as he walks through the Court District. Grey-cloaked functionaries of the Guvners scurry to and fro, trying to carry armfuls of books or scrolls in one hand while balancing an umbrella in another. Hamar strolls on unperturbed, his presence creating an opening in the grey flood of faction namers in front of him.
The Court District opens to the Nobles District. This area reeks or wealth and soft living. Women bedecked in jewels and escorted by a coterie of guards and maids come out of expensive carriages into expensive shops, and Vice versa. A few of the younger cast a speculative glance over Hamar as he stalks along. Most of the bodyguards hands twitch towards their weapons.
The main road through the Noble’s District is Razorvine-on-Hiddleston. This wide boulevard empties into Plague Court, which marks the beginning of Copperman’s Way. Plague Court is a hub area for getting goods to the rich folk in the Noble’s District. Workers scramble all over with bales, bags and boxes, loading wagons waiting by warehouses. There is a large Hardhead presence here, trying to impose order. The red-armored guardsmen congregate in front of a huge tavern named the Square Bar, possibly because the building is a featureless mass of brick without ornamentation.
Copperman’s Way leads Hamar to Copper Court and the Silver Rose office. He opens the door and sees Hanali sitting in her usual place at the front desk. Hanali is dressed much as the rich women in the Noble’s District were, which isn’t surprising as her father is one of the richest men in Sigil. She has the quality that only the truly chic and rich can pull off making it look effortless though. Her blonde hair is fine up in some piled up style with large pins inserted. She smiles as Hamar enters
“Renkar is in the training room getting his morning exercise “
O.L.L.I looks at Justin
“Friend and fellow adventurer Justin. Before I could attempt anything so intricate and esoteric, I would need some data. What is the name of this entity? What information do you hold about this entity? What classification of entity is it?’
The Barbarian nods to the young woman giving as good a smile as he can as he does not often smile, likely he does not make a good show of it.
He passes into the training room and stretches, watching his "employer" work the forms.
"Well met Renkar".
Renkar is old, but he moves with the grace of a much younger man. He is stripped to the waist, and his torso is still firm with muscle, if not tiger lean like Hamar. Hamar is reminded of his mother’s father, a deadly warrior until the day in his seventieth winter when an enemy cut him down. He goes through a sword form with a heavy ironwood practice baton . Sweat slicks his body as he halts and looks at Hamar
“Good peak Hamar. Are you interested in a bit of sparring? I could use a challenge “
The Barbarian nods in assent and strips off his cloak, shirt and armor to be equally stripped shirtless, "Have you sparring swords or are we to duel with steel?"
Renkar grins
“I am not so interested in that risky a challenge. Plus, I don’t want to hurt you accidentally “
He tosses another ironwood baton to Hamar. The weight is similar to a non-magical longsword
“Three taps per bout?”
Hamar grins, "Or injure me on purpose!"
He unbuckles his swords and removes the scimitar from his back grasping the ironwood baton and swinging it a few times to get a feel for it.
"Three taps per bout", the Barbarian replies nodding his assent.
Renkar starts at Hamar, taking an aggressive stance, his ironwood stave blurring towards Hamar’s shoulders
Hamar
The Barbarian sees the high attack and despite his great height, Hamar, ducks and rolls to his right, striking Renkar on the left thigh.
He comes out of his roll up to his full height, continuing to circle Renkar's left flank.
Renkar smiles wolfishly.
“Well struck”
Renkar feints a strike at Hamar’s face, then sweeps his baton down, attempting to strike at Hamar’s thigh
Hamar
The Barbarian falls for the high feint and misjudges Renkar's speed taking a hit on the leg with a grunt. He nods to Renkar's hit and leaps back.
Hamar then springs forward for a quick follow up strike!
Hamar
Hamar’s follow up catches Renkar solidly in the chest. He staggers back and recovers, sweeping his baton up in a defensive gesture. He grins again, but Hamar sees a subliminal wince at his eyes
“You are quick, young Hamar. The tally is 2-1”
Renkar pushes off, using a sword form Hamar finds similar to Flock of Birds, the baton darting in and out
"If I were not quick, I'd be dead, I have not the strength of a Karrin Kind".
Hamar
While the Barbarian has seen the maneuver before, he misses the timing of his block and gets caught by the cagey veteran. The Barbarian grins,
"We are even".
He pauses and begins circling darting back and forth with a few feints before moving in for a strike.
Hamar
Renkar parries Hamar’s blows until one strike slips past and glances off his hip. Renkar halts and salutes Hamar, breathing heavy
“Well fought Hamar. I concede the bout. “
Hamar bows low, "Renkar my friend, you still have it".
A pleasure for me, I have not fought such a session since I was twelve years old against my own Father. Though in that one, I lost. He was a great warrior my Father.
I am not one for idle chatter but I am wondering, how did you come to this.... strange place?"
Renkar laughs
“Hamar, I grew up here. Sigil is my city. I served in the Speakers’ Voice, a group dedicated to Sigil that served in … unorthodox situations”
He sobers
“I do realize that this city is a bit … much. Even to those born to it- Sigil is a constant parade of wonders and horrors. I often think we Cagers are all a bit mad.”
He tosses Hamar a towel, and wipes his sweat from another. He walks towards a basin of water and washes briefly then dresses in the conservative tunic Hamar has seen him
In
“The secret of life in Sigil is understanding none of it makes sense. We all of us try to control the multiverse, only to realize the multiverse controls us”
The Barbarian shrugs, "Once I thought the Shaar was so vast that nothing could be so large.
Then I laid my eyes upon the Shining Sea which appeared to go on forever and I asked my Father if it stretched forever.
He pointed to the sky and said that the sky went on forever and the lights we saw in the sky were other suns like ours but not ours.
Only the Gods knew what was there.
Now I know what is there, madness, chaos, Angels and Devils brushing shoulders without murderous intent in each others eyes. Despite all of this, I am here. I live, I have survived horrors on my homeworld and with my new found companions which I had never dreamed could be in my worse nightmares as a child".
He dresses and picks up his blades and turns to Renkar, "And even with all of this, what I do well, still has value. Who would have thought that even in the vast sky a man with three swords could make a difference?
I owe the Silver Rose my life for without them I surely would have perished on that dead world. Perhaps one day I shall return home. My Mother has much to answer for after all. For now, I am here and here I shall stay, helping my new friends for their cause seems... right.
But... over breaking our fast, can you teach me the cant of this place, many of these words mean nothing to me!"
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Renkar smiles
“A man with three swords can always make a difference.”
He leads Hamar out towards the Copper Cauldron, and they are served a large breakfast. Ramona keeps the pancakes,eggs, sausages, and toast coming. Fresh gahveh and a pitcher of some sort of citrus juice sits close to hand.
“As with any slang, you should learn the insults first” Renkar says, dipping his toast in a yolk
“Berk is simply fool or idiot. Addle-pated is crazy or dim witted. Sod off is the same as get lost. A cully is a fat and stupid person with no perception, thus thieves that work the mugging trade are often called cully bashers. Pike it is the same as shut up. Clueless is a prime, or anyone new to Sigil really. “
Renkar munches his toast
“We’re there any phases you’d like explained?”
Hamar grumbles at the word Berk signaling that he's received that one several times.
He shakes his head in the negative, "None specific, continue and I will try and remember what I can".
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Renkar ponders a bit
“Well, dazzle is cant for any type of magic, especially the exploding kind. A dazzler is a spell user. The leafless tree is the gallows. You usually hear that like “He’s going to end up swinging on the leafless tree”. A cutter is just a neutral term for anyone, like “ look at that cutter there”. In the same vein is the word ‘cove’. A blood is someone who looks experienced and deadly. I would say many would consider you a blood”
Renkar smiles as he crunches some bacon
“Barmy is insane. A bone box is your mouth. A brain box is either your head or your skull. Trig is smart, good, quick etc. Hende is like trig, but only more so. Then there are thieves “
Renkar ponders
“There’s cully bashers, bullyboys, shivers, jinkdippers, and doggers.”
“Then there is money. Jink is the cant term. A jinkskirt is a female prostitute, a jinkshirt is a male prostitute. A jinkskirt dog is a pimp”
Renkar eats more bacon
“Tumble is discovering things. Twig is to solve something or come to a realization. Turning stag is betraying someone. “
He mops up a bit of egg with the thick slice of toast he’s holding
“I’m sure I can think of a few more”.
Hamar does his best to commit them to memory.
"Tell me of the Lady, the Silver Rose whisper of her in secret, who or what is she?"
Renkar frowns
“We don’t have many taboos in our city, but the Lady is one of the biggest. She is the unquestioned ruler of this city. She commands the Dabus, who you have likely seen repairing Sigil’s streets. She knows everything that occurs within the bounds of Sigil, and can deny access to the city to anyone, including gods. The sight of her inspires awe and terror. Her very shadow can cut you. She doesn’t need to fight, she can banish anyone with a thought to the Mazes, her own private extra-dimensional prisons. I have lived here all my life snd I have only seen her once. She kills those who offend her by attempting to worship her. She is a dangerous enigma, and likely the reason this impossible city manages to exist “
Renkar pauses. Then continues quietly
“As to what she is? There are many rumors. Anyone attempting to research her history ends up disappearing. Some say she was a goddess who was punished by being chained here at the dawn of time. Others contend that the Lady is a position, and under certain circumstances a new entity gets the mantle of power. Others say she was a god from the last great cycle, left behind to kickstart the new multiverse when the old one died. “
Hamar frowns, "So then she is what keeps the Angels and Devils from slaying one another on sight.
Then I say she is someone or something to be admired as this place, strange as it may be, is unique. There is no other place like it.,,,
Is there?"
Renkar laughs
“Hamar, I can honestly say that there is no other city quite like Sigil, and no other ruler like the Lady of Pain. Just try not to admire her TOO much. She doesn’t like when people talk overmuch about her”
O.L.L.I looks at Justin
“Friend and fellow adventurer Justin. Before I could attempt anything so intricate and esoteric, I would need some data. What is the name of this entity? What information do you hold about this entity? What classification of entity is it?’
Justin gives O.L.L.I. a tight-lipped smile.
"Those are,... VERY good questions. Um,... O.L.L.I.,... Is there somewhere we can speak privately? The answers are as dangerous as the questions themselves."
Once the Modron has escorted Justin to his office, The wizard rubs his hand over his face, trying to think of what he can, should, and most importantly SHOULDN'T tell the librarian.
"Where to start? Look, O.L.L.I. Merely KNOWING about this is not only dangerous, but I think it might actually give the entity more power. Which is exactly what we're trying to prevent! So I need to answer your questions and provide you enough details to do the research, but not so much as to make this entity any more powerful than it already is. You understand?"
Justin rubs his goatee (which is in serious need of attention) as he thinks.
"Um,... The classification of the entity is, 'Very, VERY Dangerous'." Justin begins gamely. The wizard shrugs.
"We are talking about an old-school power. Said power was so powerful and dangerous that it took a collective of OTHER powers to subdue it. Best as I know, they only subdued it because I think it was too powerful to kill outright. Part of said 'subduing' was erasing the very memory of it's existence from the Planes. No one remembered it's name. But those who served it still remembered that they had served a powerful master. The erasure included ALL memory and references to it. Art, books, scrolls, everything. But the erasure left gaps where the knowledge had been. So those who had been followers prior have been able to follow the gaps and put together some of the knowledge based on what ISN'T there now. You see?"
Justin rubs the bridge of his nose.
"The more I try to explain, the less sense this makes" He sighs.
"Said Followers and worshipers of said entity have NOW collected enough information to 'bring back' the disposed Power. Said Power had a very personal, powerful artifact. A rod I think. I dare say that so much of it's power is tied up in this artifact that it can't achieve it's FULL power without reclaiming it. Although it will be bad enough even without it. Let's classify the artifact as 'Very Evil, Very VERY dangerous'. OK?"
"The artifact is currently hidden on the Plane I mentioned. AND if we remove it from that plane, it's whereabouts will be immediately known to the Power. So we must destroy the artifact without leaving the plane."
The wizard looks at O.L.L.I. with hope in his eyes, but a dawning realization in his heart.
"I'm hoping that will be enough. I mean, What good will knowing the name do if your not going to find any references to it, right?!?" Justin grins.
"So,... ah,... 'Evil Power',... um, portfolio was 'Demons and Death', 'Evil artifact' tied directly to it that holds a goodly portion of it's power,... 'Artifact Currently Hidden and must be destroyed without leaving the plane it is currently on.' Any chance?"
"Yeah,.... I figured,..."
O.L.L.I looks at Justin with those large cartoonish Modron eyes
“I apologize friend and fellow adventurer Justin. This task will be impossible due to
Insufficient data”
"My admiration has already lapsed my friend, no further thought shall I put into the matter as no more is required".
The normally silent Barbarian goes silent and simply east though listening intently to whatever else Renkar has to tell him.