As he races through the typically-Sigil-rainy-sky, Justin's forces himself to slow his mind and THINK this through. For once.
He contemplates what he knows (and was reminded of strongly) about Modrons, and how certain magics may interact differently with a hive-mind than with a 'typical' humanoid or monstrous mind.
Justin muses over the power level of a spell capable of erasing short-term memory, compared to one that is powerful enough to alter memories,...
AND the wizard muses on the benefits of planning ahead, as opposed to spontaneous casting. And how a wizard might benefit from thinking more like a wizard, and a teensy bit less like a sorcerer.
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Justin recalls a spell called Damnation of Memory that seems like the perfect fit. It would erase 10 minutes of a beings memory. That would be enough for O.L.L.I to forget the entire incident. The down side is the material component is a huge flawless diamond
From what he knows of the Source is that information flows from the individuals to Primus, the ultimate Modron. Erasing O.L.L.I’s memories shouldn’t affect any other Modron, assuming he is still attached to the Source.
As for destruction of the artifact, he still has no clue. He was told by Erehe of a place of secrets on Pelion. The realm of Nephythys, Goddess of secrets and tombs
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Erehe looks to the party
“There is aught else I can tell you. The precise location of the Wand is unclear to me. Kiransalee sent me thither via magic and recalled me after. Agathion is the plain of buried secrets. I will suggest that if you wish to uncover hidden secrets, then you might find answers in the deserts of Pelion, the third layer of Arborea. There the realm of Nephythys lies. She is a goddess of dead and secrets. If there is any way to discover where on Agathion the Wand is, it is there amongst her necropoli”
Justin happens to live on Flourish Alley, close by Copper Court. He had originally rented his room because the street and several others surrounding it were chock-full of magic shops. He stumps back towards his apartment, lifting his hood against the thickening rain.
The sticky part of that particular spell is needing a high-level bard to cast it. He could go with a scroll, but likely it would just be easier to find a high-level bard willing to cast it for him. Of course, then there is the gem. 5,000 Ladies is not an insubstantial sum.
Erehe looks to the party
“There is aught else I can tell you. The precise location of the Wand is unclear to me. Kiransalee sent me thither via magic and recalled me after. Agathion is the plain of buried secrets. I will suggest that if you wish to uncover hidden secrets, then you might find answers in the deserts of Pelion, the third layer of Arborea. There the realm of Nephythys lies. She is a goddess of dead and secrets. If there is any way to discover where on Agathion the Wand is, it is there amongst her necropoli”
;)
Justin lands on the street he usually shops at, his mood as damp as the weather. His coat and spiffy new Rose cloak are great, but even the superior craftsmanship of the cloak doesn't make him waterproof.
The fact that this current mess is entirely of his OWN making, however unintentional and well-meant, does nothing to relieve his soggy spirits.
The first spell that he could recall to fix poor O.L.L.I.'s memory was a doozy. Damnation of Memory was what the text referred to it as. And if the wizard who wrote about it was right, it deserved the name. With a range approximated in lengths of hundreds of bodies as opposed to steps, capable of affecting all within it's range, and capable of erasing memories up to almost two hours if used by a skilled enough caster, it was almost overkill.
Almost. Heck, it was probably a Powers-level version of that spell that did the original 'erasing' to begin with.
(Best not to dwell TOO much on that subject. Powers were finicky at best as far as Justin could tell. Even when dealing with their own 'devout' worshipers. The Rose had drawn the attention of at least ONE already, and just because THAT one saw fit to help them didn't mean they wanted nosy mortals poking around in their business.)
The catch was it took a highly skilled BArd to cast the spell. And Bard or scroll, it wasn't going to be cheap. The material component listed had been a large, flawless, diamond. Far beyond the almost 2,000 gold coins left from the Khassta 'Donation'. LAst he checked, gems worth 5 thousand Ladies didn't just grow on trees. Even in Sigil. Well,... Maybe for Pando, but Justin didn't think that they had time or inclination to pay the entity another visit. (Although Pando WAS on Justin's list of 'Places to re-visit in my spare time').
As far as Justin knew, there weren't a lot of Wizard spells that affected memory. And the ones that he knew of were the non-friendly variety. With Side-Effects that he had no desire to subject the poor Modron to. Messing with Mind-magic was a tricky business. Most wizards gave it a wide berth. Whether due to an over-developed sense of moral right-and-wrong like a certain adventuring wizard who needed to start USING his brain, or just because the majority of wizard preferred the flashier fire-and-lightning spells when they became skilled enough to cast them. There just weren't that many commonly-known spells dealing with adjusting a subjects memory as opposed to obliterating it.
Justin peeked out from under his dual hoods and looked at the shops on the street through the dingy rain. He picked one that might be able to help him find what he needed. Or at least point him in the right direction. The wizard sloshed through the puddles towards the door.
The Barbarian looks at this OLLI and considers Justin's statement, Yes, I suppose poking any living thing with stick would not be the nicest thing to do of course the Barbarian usually slashes with a scimitar so much more mean spirited that.
Hamar turns to Merle and Seph, "What if the Library comes looking for this thing? The Wizard has left us here guarding his stolen wares and we appear the thieves!
Brilliant!
Perhaps he is seeking a new profession hey?"
Karrin stops by the Silver Rose, after sending a letter and some money to her adopted father and the monastery.
"Hey gang," Karrin says as she reaches the top of the stairs "Wazzup?"
Justin's steps slowed as he approached the nearest doorway to a scroll-shop he frequented.
The wizard had finally recalled why the bardic spell reference was still bugging him. It was similar to another, wizardly, spell he had read of. Once. 'Sequester Thoughts', or something similar. If the falling-apart-tome he had read was accurate, it was very similar to the bard version, if far less powerful in range and scope. At least THAT spell did not require a diamond. Well,... not a flawless one anyway. The approximate cost of a scroll and gem were actually within his pocket-pouch range. AND it had the added bonus of being his own wizardly skill range. All he would need was a scroll of the spell,...
UNfortunately, Mind magics were generally frowned upon in 'polite' society, particularly by the hardheads. Justin mused that he probably shouldn't mention to Murphy what he was up to. Even after the fact. She would probably whack him just for good measure. With her helmet. And then whack him again just to make sure he didn't miss the point.
In fact, Justin was fairly certain that his usual haunts would not be carrying what he was looking for. Shards and shells. He would have to go 'shopping' in the Lower Ward. Probably. HE knew of one, maybe two shops that might carry what he wanted. Probably. IF he looked sufficiently non-authoritarian enough. And asked really, REALLY nicely. Maybe.
Justin shook his head, momentarily ashamed of himself. O.L.L.I. was a friend. And he had long ago decided that there was not much he would not do for a friend.
Justin wrapped his cloak tighter around himself and rose once more into the drizzling air. The wizard muttered curses in various languages regarding the foolishness of young wizards and the moronicy of mind-magics.
Justin flew for the Lower Ward as fast as his spell would carry him.
Hamar turns to Merle and Seph, "What if the Library comes looking for this thing? The Wizard has left us here guarding his stolen wares and we appear the thieves!
Brilliant!
Perhaps he is seeking a new profession hey?"
Merle suddenly pauses as Hamar words and the situation begin to slowly sink in "..........I am going to murder him....."
Karrin stops by the Silver Rose, after sending a letter and some money to her adopted father and the monastery.
"Hey gang," Karrin says as she reaches the top of the stairs "Wazzup?"
Merle slowly turns to face Karrin as she enters the room with a deer in headlights expresion "Uh well.....this is uh really not as bad as it looks?"
"Huh, well I'm a unusually trusting and unobservant individual, which is why I didn't get too many warehouse guarding jobs back in the day, so give me a moment to drink this all in."
Karrin scans the room, noticing Merle and Hamar pointedly not looking in a certain direction, which seems pretty normal, but there's something new in the room. In the direction they're pointedly not looking in. Perhaps the two haven't spotted the new thing yet . . .
"Good heavens, is that Olli?" Karrin says after she had a good look at the rogue modron, "Olli, what are you doing here? Why are you laying in the middle of our practice room? Oh no, I hope nobody thumped him! This does look pretty bad now that I've had a chance to look things over Merle!"
"..........Justin did it...."
"Justin. Did. What?!"
Justin, flying towards the Lower Ward, suddenly shivered with a chill that had nothing to do with the usual Sigil rain.
'WHY do I feel like someone just walked over my grave?!?'
Justin points his boots towards the Lady’s Ward. Walking down Copperman’s Way he goes over his options. Ragpicker’s Square is the place he needs to go. That massive bazaar for all things cloth and paper has several esoteric scroll shops. The issue is finding the right sort of shop. Strolling up and requesting a scroll of that kind could be dangerous for any number of reasons. He decides to have a look at Hecate Row, a small Warren of alleyways off Ragpicker’s proper near the Mortuary side of things. He’d wandered there once or twice, but the vibe had been particularly sketchy.
Copperman’s Way empties out into Plague Court. The large square is filled with cursing drovers loading and unloading crates, bags, and boxes under the storming skies. The rain had gotten even thicker, becoming a full-on deluge. Despite his top-line Cager Cloak, Justin begins to get wet.
He starts off into the Nobles District, taking the glitzy main road Hiddleston-on-Razorvine. The ‘Vine leads past Thomas’ kip snd his work, but Justin feels a sense of urgency and doesn’t stop. The road is thronged with various expensive carriages, but few pedestrians. Most are smart enough to stay indoors in this weather.
The Nobles District transitions into the Court District, which does throng with pedestrians. Hordes of grey-tuniced Guvners, red-armored Harmonium, and Mercykillers with their trademarked spiked pouldrons dash to and from; intent on Sigil’s governance. Justin passes the City Barracks, and spends a quick moment dwelling on Murph. Alas, time passes, and Justin trots on.
The Temple District looms up, busy as always. Justin works his way from opulent megatemples to Leanto chapels in short order.
As the Lady’s Ward transitions into the Lower, Justin passes that monument to wizardly opulence, the Society of Lumineferous Aether. The odd almost non-Euclidean building draws his eye. Justin is certain that he could find an answer easily within, but the trick was gaining entrance.
Alehouse Row is its typical rowdy self despite the driving rain. Drunkards rarely care about the weather. Justin hurries through, though the smells of cooking food and hot spiced cider rum drinks tempt him.
Traveling through Hellgate, mercifully quiet this morning, he arrives at the edge of Ragpicker’s Square. Unlike the Great Bazaar, Ragpicker’s is dedicated to only two items. Clothes and books. Of course, those two items encompass a lot of range and services. There are also establishments dedicated to the customers and purveyors of these items, like the large tavern known as the Mighty Pen, a favorite of writers and booksellers both.
Winding through the dripping stalls , Justin notes that Ragpicker’s is awfully quiet. Despite the many minor glammers set up to keep cloth and paper dry from Sigil’s perennial damp, this rare heavy rain has kept many vendors away. He heads towards Hecate Row.
The neighborhood is deep in Dustmen territory, and the crowd gets more black-garbed snd undead-y. The unsettling undead servants the Dustmen use throng the area: silent grey zombie’s with stitched mouths, cheap tunics , and numbers tattooed on their foreheads. Skeletons polished clean with acid, with their bones strung together with copper wires. Even phantoms ghosting along the roads, intent on some mission of their masters.
The entrance to Hecate Row is an arch with that power’s sigul atop it, the triple moon. Within is a Warren of narrow streets, most lined with shops advertising various arcane services. Justin sees a shop called “The Wizard’s Inkpot” which might be a place to start.
"Justin. Did. What?!"
“Justin appeared with … olli… from a library somewhere after he did something that made the poor thing slip a cog or something “
"Okay, let's see what we can do to get Olli back on his feet," Karrin says as she walks over to Olli and sits him up, then she begins pumping his arms up and down like they used to do to get someone back on their feet after a fainting spell.
"Come on Olli, up and at them, you need to stop talking to wizards, it's very bad for your mental health. You're a free thinking Modron, a rarity in this universe, and I can't have you seized up like this. Who am I going to talk to about philosophy and stuff. I mean you know stuff about religion and everything, nobody else I know knows about that stuff. Up and at em Olli"
Karrin then leans in, and whispers where she imagines his ears to be:
"Hey Olli, 2 + 2 = 5"
O.L.L.I seems inert. His arms are locked in place, as are his legs. He is standing, but his eyes are blank
Justin decides discretion is the better part of valor. In THIS case.
Justin shakes his head and clears his mind. He uses his magical sleeves, (currently looking like two black ribbons tied onto the sleeves of his coat) to shift his clothing into something other than his usual coat and cloak. He selects something similar to the nondescript black hooded robes of several non-deaders wandering the street. He then uses his magical hat to shift his appearance to an older man, with a wizened, wrinkled face and a long grey beard.
Justin doesn't worry about hiding the shift on the street. Most of the people on this street would prefer not to notice anything anyway. He simply doesn't want to be remembered as the guy who was asking about possibly sketchy scrolls, in an easily recognized company cloak!
His alterations in place, Justin tucks his hands into the sleeves of his black robes, his head bowed down hiding his disguised face in the hood, and glides forward into 'The Wizard's Inkpot'.
Hamar watches Karrin try and get this Moron up and moving bu it's no use.
"Karrin Kind, I don't think you should address this OLLI as a Moron, though if you believe insults will awaken the being I'd be happy to scream at him obscenities from my homeworld!"
Justin opens the door, triggering a bell from within. Inside is a small cramped shop, filled with ink pots of various hues on shelves. Each has a small tag attached. Justin peers at one
Mimic’s blood, unicorn tear, powdered garnet. 50 GP
Justin seems to be the sole customer. A female voice issues from the back
“One second!”
There is a stench of boiling things of insalubrious character issuing from the back
A woman comes bustling from the back. Her skin is a deep emerald green, where it isn’t smudged with various-colored smudges. She looks at Justin and gives him a smile. Justin is reminded of a shark.
“What can I do for you, magister? Need a specialty concoction for a special spell?”
Justin bows his disguised head slowly but politely. Once. He speaks slowly, trying to carefully consider each word instead of letting them flow out all at once as he normally tends to do.
"I am informed that you are able to provide, discreet, references? I require, assistance with finding a spell." Justin responds, not disguising his voice so much as speaking slowly, precisely and so softly that the 'S's are almost hissed.
The cowled wizard reigns in his inner frustration at the deception, the necessity of it, the current time-table he is on, and his impatience in general. (Especially since that impatience had gotten him INTO this mess in the first place!)
Justin's cowled head turns slowly, taking in the room as he forces himself to choose his words carefully. Still, the best lies are a near-truth. Less likely to get yourself in trouble that way than making up something from whole cloth.
"My apprentice has read knowledge he was, unprepared for. The results upon his mind have been, unpleasant."
Justin shrugs his black-draped shoulders.
"I would relieve him of the burden of this knowledge. But lack the time to research such a spell from scratch. I am familiar with one that should work. It is of the 5th level on the Merlinscale. Might you know where one can acquire such a spell-scroll?"
The woman’s grin deepens
“Of course! Of course! I understand completely. Apprentices can be such a burden yes? And the Fraternity of Order and their bully boys the Harmonium so set against such … useful magics.”
She leans in, and Justin can see her teeth are indeed shark like, a set of cutting triangles
“I am not a purveyor of such things myself, you understand. Simply a humble alchemist toiling away at my brews. But …”
She whispers even lower
“For the right fee I could make an introduction…”
Justin is grateful that hie hood currently hides most of his face. It helps to conceal his surprise at the woman's shark-like teeth.
(The woman's green skin? Doesn't faze him anymore. Not since becoming accustomed to the Troll Shamans doing entrail readings in the Temple District each day. With their own entrails. But the shark-teeth aren't that common. To him.)
Justin coughs what might have been the start of a laugh from the depths of his hood.
"Yes. The hardheads can be so,... single minded." Justin agrees politely.
'Guess I WON'T be telling Murph about THIS part of my latest misadventure!'
"An introduction would be appreciated. And a reliable source for rare inks for certain spells even more so. Pray tell, how can I repay you for your valuable time and kindness?" Justin whispers in return.
The woman grins
“Oh I am a simple woman, magister. I like jink”
She smiles with those oh-so-white teeth
“100 Ladies will get you the intro. Up front. That’s for the hello. It’s up to you to procure what you wish”
She looks Justin over
“My name is Shadows-on-water, but that’s a lot to say. Most call me Shadow or Shad. Can I have your name?”
Hamar watches Karrin try and get this Moron up and moving bu it's no use.
"Karrin Kind, I don't think you should address this OLLI as a Moron, though if you believe insults will awaken the being I'd be happy to scream at him obscenities from my homeworld!"
"Modron, Hamar, there is a "D" somewhere in there."
The barbarian cocks an eyebrow, "Is Modron Sigil speak for something else?
Renkar was teaching me but that word I do not remember".
"Well, you're like a hu-man, and a modron is like the race Olli is. There are a lot of them somewhere in another dimension, but here in the cage there are only rogue modrons, the sort that are unaligned with that hive like mind. Also, quick aside, Olli is like one of the smartest people I know and thus I'd have never called him a moron, I mean he can be kind of silly on some topics but if there's anything that can be learned from books he probably knows about it."
Hamar nods in understanding, "A MoDron.
Thank you Karrin Kind.
I still don't quite understand why he is in this... catatonic state. Perhaps we should wait for the Wizard to return with a spell?"
With nothing to fight and breakfast done, Hamar is out of his element...
Hamar nods in understanding, "A MoDron.
Thank you Karrin Kind.
I still don't quite understand why he is in this... catatonic state. Perhaps we should wait for the Wizard to return with a spell?"
With nothing to fight and breakfast done, Hamar is out of his element...
"I still say we poke em with a stick or give them a shake."
The woman grins
“Oh I am a simple woman, magister. I like jink”
She smiles with those oh-so-white teeth
“100 Ladies will get you the intro. Up front. That’s for the hello. It’s up to you to procure what you wish”
She looks Justin over
“My name is Shadows-on-water, but that’s a lot to say. Most call me Shadow or Shad. Can I have your name?”
Justin nods at the introduction, fighting back a wry grin in the depths of his hood.
"Oh, I doubt very much that anyone ever calls you 'simple', Miss Shadow." The mage replies. He spoke softly, but much closer to his 'normal' voice.
"Pleasure to make your acquaintance. I am simply a caster-for-hire, trying to correct a mistake, and avoid any misunderstandings, or further complications, while doing so. Particularly when dealing with 'unpopular' spells."
The wizard snorts a small laugh. "My name is Justin. But lately most people just call me 'trouble'."
Shadow gestures airily
“Trouble is relative. A 100 ladies and I’ll send my apprentice to fetch my contact”
Justin nods, his deep cowl bobbing once. The wizard reaches into his robes and counts out 100 Gold Ladies. He presents them to Shadow with a small bow.
"Thank you for your assistance."
Shadow puts the coins in a strongbox and yells to the back
“Khirshih! Head to the Blast. Fetch Nimras”
A voice calls out from the back
“Roight!”
A few miniutes later two youths enter. Both are skinny, weaselly-faced adolescents whose demeanor screams Hiver. One speaks up
“Wotcher want, Shad?”
Shadow looks at Justin
“Nimras, this magister has an interest in some magic your mentor might help him with. “
The youth looks over Justin
“I can bring yeh, but you wear a blindfold “
Shadow sighs
“Really Nimras? That paranoid?”
The boy looks stubborn
“Blast’s orders. “
"I still say we poke em with a stick or give them a shake."
"You want to poke my friend with a stick?"
"Oh uh who said that?"
The start of a long sigh starts to escape from the depths of Justin's hood, but is quickly silenced.
'I got myself INTO this, I can get myself OUT of it,...'
"Is it far?" Justin asks in a reasonable voice.
"I would prefer not to appear to be an invalid on the streets of Sigil. Of any district. Too many Abyss-Cursed-Imbeciles looking for an easy mark. Time IS of the essence. I would prefer not to waste any convincing scallywags they picked the wrong 'blind man' to rob?"
The youth Nimras looks impatient
“This is my turf. No one will bother us. It’s a short distance anyway “
'If it's a short distance, they WHY am I,... ?!? ARGH! SIGIL!'
Outwardly, Justin nods his head slowly but politely to the youth.
"Then I place myself in your capable hands."
Justin pulls out a scrap of cloth, reaches up under his voluminous hood, and wraps it around his eyes.
"Thank you for the contact Mistress Shadow. I will return in the future to discuss those specialty inks. I am particularly interested in luminescent inks. For reading scrolls in the dark with out a light source. Once my current situation has been dealt with."
The mage holds out his right hand.
"At your service young ser."
Justin is led by the youth through a maze of paths turning left and right wuickly. A few times he could feel both sides of the alleyway brushing his arms - he was going far off the main thoroughfares. Eventually the walk into a building and Justin is told to remove his blindfold. He is in a workshop, that much is certain. Piles of arcane Bric-a-Brac festoons the space. An old man sits at a scribing desk, a fresh spell scroll tacked to its inclined surface. The scratching of a quill can be heard as the man mutters to himself
“Yes. Yes. Rigoth ascending, then Trisk. Two? No, three substrate diacriticals, yesss…”
Ninras clears his throat. The man looks up, squinting. He dons a pair of goggles with iridescent lenses set into them. He wears a look of annoyance on his face that fades to a more neutral look.
“Ah, yes. The customer. I hear you need a spell you can find on Scriveners Row, eh? What can I help you with?”
"Just to be clear to everyone here, Olli is one of my oldest friends here in the cage, we met shorty after I got stranded here. Nobody pokes him with a stick unless we think it'll actually help."
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"Well it might?"
The mage allows himself to be led by the youth, trying not to peek too hard, but keeping track of turns and steps until it becomes fairly obvious that they are likely criss-crossing their own path more than once. The boy DID say it wasn't far. He shoves down his nerves at feeling the alley walls close in, and concentrates on trying not to trip while keeping up.
Once (FINALLY!) inside once more, Justin removes his blindfold when instructed, and bows his hooded head to the elderly man politely.
"Yes. Thank you for seeing me. You come highly recommended by Mistress Shadow. I need a spell to remove or alter memories, not too distant. Trying to avoid permanent damage by a well-meaning but amateurish Apprentice mistake. I have knowledge of a spell that should do the trick. It is on the 5th level of the Merlinscale. The version I read of was called 'Sequester Thoughts' on it's Prime. Might you have something similar?"
The old man smirks
"Ah yesss. A tricky spell. Tricky. The ink is made of powdered gemstones, very pricy."
He looks over Justin, his smirk fading
"3,000 ladies and not a green less"
O.L.L.I stands frozen, like some homely boxy statue. His large eyes seem to stare in supplication at Karrin
"Olli," Karrin says looking directly into his eyes, "we're going to fix you. That is, assuming, you can't manage to fix yourself."