Merle Sighs as she, Swift and the others begin to head for the courthouse. All the while wondering how she was going to sort this mess.
The group descends the wide stairs of the City Barracks and begins their journey down the road to the Court District and the City Court.
The group passes several court-functioned businesses on their way to the Court: a parchment seller, a maker of judicial robes, a wig shop. There is even an inn called the Dusty Wig that seems to cater to barristers of various types. Several of them argue with each other in a small courtyard with bistro tables.
Another inn, The Twelve Factols, stands nearby, but it only has an entry area with a set of stairs leading down. Several Norse-looking cutters lounge about the small yard that surrounds the entryway, some obviously drunk even at mid Peak.
The group passes a huge fountain. The pool is 100 feet across, and various metal bowls are set at differing heights and angles, catching water that shoots from the center of the pool in an impressive geyser. The metal bowls resonate with an exquisite chorus, the sounds of water striking metal transformed into a celestial chorus. The group can see an odd woman plucking pigeon feathers from the water and braiding them in her blonde hair. She sings delightfully in accompaniment to the fountain.
The area surrounding the City Court is thronged with bewigged barristers, defendants, plaintiffs and members of the Fraternity of Order all scurrying around on various errands. The whole area exudes an atmosphere of organized chaos, if such a thing is possible.
The steps to the City Court's entrance is crowded, but the group manages to ascend the stairs without too much trouble. Swiftfang's occasional growl helps.
Inside there are long lines to various offices. Several courtrooms lie off the main area, and the large foyer is crowded with a cross section of the Cage's residents. Upon a few discrete questions, the group finds the proper line to wait in to discover trial dates.
More Hardheads throng this area as well, acting as the Guvner's muscle. A few frown at the group, but they get the feeling this isn't personal, just practice more than anything.
Finally the group arrives at the front of their line. A harried Guvner functionary looks up and states:
"Name of defendant, time and place of arrest."
The harried clerk peruses a large stack of parchment.
"hmm ...hmm ..hmm... here we are. Skrint of Clearbrook. Hmm, seems he has been remanded to the Court of Woe."
The clerk looks up at the group
"Your friend's been Gabberslugged. Only way to visit that court is to get a pass up on the second floor, at the Bureau of Passes, Portals, and Keys. Best of luck cutters, you'll need it. NEXT!"
Merle manages to restrain a groan when she hears were she needs to head now and begins to suspect a jailbreak would have been simpler. Still they had come this far so may as well see it through while heading to the next floor Merle wonders to herself what Gabberslugged means.
The group head up the stairs to the second floor of the City Court and joins yet another line in front of an office. The entryway reads Bureau of Passes, Portals and Keys, and the front desk sports several lines of people. The bureau seems very busy, and it takes a while before the group finally makes it to the front of the line. A female Guvner clerk looks at them and asks:
"Good Afterpeak. What information are you requesting?"
Throughout the procedings Swift looks increasingly like she's all set to bash her little skull against the nearest wall in frustration. Plan one had been to try to clear his name quickly, plan two had been a jailbreak and plan three had been to turn herself in to ensure his freedom, she hadn't expected so much bureaucracy. Putting on her best sweet, innocent and concerned face she looks at the clerk with wide eyes. At least perfecting the concerned look was easy this time, Court of Woe, what were these people thinking?
"Good Afterpeak, we were sent to request a pass to the second floor, it really is terribly important and we'd be truly thankful if you could help us"
The clerk looks puzzled
"A pass to the second floor? Yeh ARE on the second floor! Are yeh looking for information on a portal or a key or what?"
The clerk looks puzzled
"A pass to the second floor? Yeh ARE on the second floor! Are yeh looking for information on a portal or a key or what?"
Swift looks muddled for a moment before catching up, stupid complicated building layouts, if it was anything other than the way to where the valuables are hidden she got lost. "Oooh.. ask at the bureau on the second floor for a pass, not a pass for the second floor.. Your poor clerk downstairs was a little harried and muddled I think" She explains with a small friendly smile. "We require a pass to the Court of Woe"
The clerk smiles
"I understand, it's a difficult process. Are yeh sure yeh'll want that pass? The Court of Woe is a rough place."
The clerk then asks:
"Are you both attending?"
The clerk turns to a scroll cabinet behind her. She rustles through several stacks of parchment.
"Permission to attend the Hall of Speakers ... Permission to visit the City Prison ... Permission to build a structure in Sigil ... Ahh! here we go!"
The clerk hands Swift two parchment sheets embossed with a strange sigil in swirling colors.
"Don't forget that is a one-way pass. Once you go, yeh won't be able to leave the Court until Judge Gabberslug has finished up his session. Have an informative Peak! NEXT!"
Renkar looks up at the elaborate Gnomish clock that sits on the common room's hearth mantle.
"I think you folks should get going to your meeting."
Greep, Eir and Karrin head out towards Sliss and the rendezvous with Wightscale. Heading down Copperman Way, they see the Afterpeak crush of pushcarts, temporary kiosks and keg porters trying to sell to the Cagers walking the road and perusing the shops that line the wide avenue. Along with the vendors are the swarm of beggars, mendicants and jinkskirts that seem to always throng any Sigil street.
"Gnomish Pale Ale! Great for a thirst! Gnomish Pale Ale!"
"Copper for a veteran of the Blood War. Copper for an old soldier.."
"Weapons sharpened while you wait! Cutlery, knives done as well!"
"Fresh Elysium Oysters! Sweetest shellfish you will ever taste!"
Merle takes the pass and heads for the court of woe. Wondering why they would need such a strange pass.
Feline
"So anyone here have any idea what we do when we get there and Swift I dont suppose you have any idea how these legal hearings operate?"
The clerk clears her throat before they leave the line and lowers her voice, leaning closer to the group
"I shouldn't tell yeh this, but yeh seem like nice Clueless, so I'll lann yeh the chant. Go to the Dusty Wig Inn an' ask for Sly Nye. He's a barrister wot goes to plead cases all the time at The Court of Woe. Secure his services an' yeh scragged friend is as good as sprung."
"I will warn you all to be wary. Kobolds aren't exactly paragons of trustworthiness. This Wightscale might be more interested in opening the salt mine under new management, and the Saltiere Society would definitely not be pleased with that outcome."
"Then we are exactly paragons of trustworhiness, either, are we."
-hic!-
Renkar smiles at Karrin"I think there will be plenty of time to go to your ball tonight Karrin"
"Yay!" Karrin cheers, "I've never been to a fancy dress ball and I didn't want to miss out. You know that even though we lived in a monastery we had plenty of books and stuff, and not all of them were about religion! I read all about fancy balls and handsome princes and that kind of thing, and although I'm grown up enough to know that kind of thing doesn't happen in real life I'm still all excited about going! I'm going to dance with someone, have some punch, and eat some of those fancy foods that they serve at balls. Also, don't you worry Renkar, I'm going to totally talk you up. we'll have like a bajillion clients after tonight I'm sure!"
"And don't worry about these kobolds, if they're up to something one of us will figure it out and I'll squash 'em before they can hurt my friends!"
"Then we are exactly paragons of trustworhiness, either, are we."-hic!-
"Hey I never ever lied to anyone!" Karrin cries in protest, and if her statement were to be taken literally she would be correct. She has never lied to any ONE person, rather she has both knowingly and unknowingly lied to nearly everyone she's ever met, but Karrin also has a selective memory and so she is completely earnest when she protests her innocence.
"Those goblins attacked us and we were just defending ourselves, also you can't blame us for robbing the place, with everyone dead inside it was going to get robbed by someone . . . and seeing as we'd get the blame anyways, it only made sense for us to take everything. I mean if the goblins weren't such lairs and thieves we wouldn't have had to steal anything. It's what you call a self fulling prof-, wait no, that's not right . . . oh ya! What goes around comes around!"
Merle nods before leaving and heading towards the Dusty Wig Inn with the others. Finally feeling like they were getting somewhere
Merle nods before leaving and heading towards the Dusty Wig Inn with the others. Finally feeling like they were getting somewhere
The group makes its way out of the crowded Court building and heads back the way they came. They remember passing the Dusty Wig on their way in to the Court District, and they easily find it again.
The inn is set up with an open air bistro seating area and a lively common room. Court functionaries, Guvner faction members and barristers of all stripes argue, swap tall tales and sip various liquid refreshemnts within the inn's well-appointed confines.
The group makes its way to the bartender, a serene-looking elven lady dressed in an imaginative take on jurist robes. She gives the group a cool glance and asks:
"Do yeh want summat to drink cutters? Or are you looking for someone in particular here?"
Feline
Yes were looking for a Sly nye we were told to see him in order to help a friend out of a little bother.
The bartender looks puzzled.
"Sorry cutter I don't speak whatever cant yer rattlin'. Do yeh got any Common?"
Merle Pauses and blinks a few times suddenly realising that she was getting all worked up and had slipped back into her native tongue. Going a little red from embaresment she asks her question in common this time
"Oh sorry I said that were looking for a Sly nye we were told to see him in order to help a friend out of a little bother."
...
"Oh sorry I said that were looking for a Sly Nye we were told to see him in order to help a friend out of a little bother."
The elven woman blinks, then smiles.
"Oh Nye! I should twigged that, yeh look like his type of client. Over there in the corner with his bloods."
The bartender points to a far table where several exotically-dressed folks are having a grand old time yakking and laughing amongst themselves. At the head of the table is a tiefling gentleman dressed in a gaudy patchwork coat. Orbiting the man's head in a haphazard manner are several large stones. A powdered wig that has seen better days sits in front of him, sopping up random splashes of ale from the boisterous crew. This man seems to be the ringleader of the group.
Eir, Karrin and Greep travel on towards the Central District and the reptilian neighborhood of Sliss. As they head towards The Lady's Ward Karrin notices something a bit strange. Her change pouch doesn't seem to be clinking as it should. When she checks she finds that some cony-catcher has slit the bottom of the purse and made off with her spare change!
Merle will approach the group and address them
"Excuse me are any of you Sly Nye by any chance?"
The odd tiefling man in the bright patchwork coat looks up
"What do we have here? Cats and kits and girls and gits! I should write that down, it has a certain ring to it ..hmm."
The man busies himself scribbling on a loose piece of sodeen foolscap with an ornate feather quill.
"Ah yes. I am Nye. To whether I am sly or not is in the eye of the beholder."
Sly Nye stops for a moment.
"Sly ..eye ... beholder... there's a congruence there, I cannot get my brainbox around it ..hmm"
Sly Nye scribbles more notes on his sodden note paper. His friends rolls their eyes and swirl their beer. One gets up and starts twirling around in a circle. Nye barks at him
" Making! That dizzy doing oi you stop are me !"
The twirler stops, looking abashed and sits back down.
Nye resumes the conversation.
"Now where were we? Ah yes, the core of the matter. Why do you ask who I am? Why shouldn't I ask who YOU are? Unless I am supposed to know ... sometimes I get a little confused as to who I have already met."
Eir, Karrin and Greep travel on towards the Central District and the reptilian neighborhood of Sliss. As they head towards The Lady's Ward Karrin notices something a bit strange. Her change pouch doesn't seem to be clinking as it should. When she checks she finds that some cony-catcher has slit the bottom of the purse and made off with her spare change!
"Aaaghh!" Karrin shouts in disgust when she makes the discovery, "someone stole my money! That was my lunch money!"
Karrin scans the streets (likely looking for sinister black cloaked men).
perception (1d20-1=2)
"What a meanie," Karrin says as she can't help but feel victimized, her lower lip begins quivering, her eyes slightly moist, "take a girl's last couple of coins in the whole world . . . and leave me destitute . . ."
Eir grabs her breasts and says "Honey, that's what these are for!"
She reaches into her cleavage and pulls out a little bag of coins. Jingles it, then puts it back.
-hic-
"A woman of the Bureau of passes, portals and keys advised us to come here and look for you she said that you could help a friend of ours called Skint who's currently being held in court of woe"
Turning to the rest of the group she points each of them out in turn
"As for who we are Im Merle Barer, the small cat is my partner Seph, The big one is Swiftfang and the short girl is Swift. So can you help us?"
Sly Nye smiles at the earnest Catmaid
"So Skrint was scragged and got Gabberslugged. Sounds like an Outland bard's ballad."
The men around Nye laugh, except for one who starts weeping.
"Well yeh're in luck, my felicitous feline friend! For I am most friendly with His Most Odious and Puissant Judge Gabberslug. In fact, he once said that he wouldn't eat me unless he was really hungry! From him, that's a rare compliment."
Nye steeples his long twitchy fingers and looks thoughtful. He then grabs one of the twirling rocks around his head and twidddles it for a bit then releases it to orbit his head again.
"I have been bored lately, and I do hate being bored. Pleading in the Court of Woe might just be the tonic my poor brainbox needs, as long as there was a good splash of gin involved somewhere."
Nye finishes his ale. One of his cronys runs off to get him a fresh mug.
*burp* "Ahh that's the Dabus' Drawers it is."
Nye looks at the group
"So tell me my fine flock, when was Skrint Scragged, and when will he get Gabberslugged? Also, can yeh pay my fee? I scale my fee to what my clients can afford, the weather, and the winning numbers of the Hive Sweepstakes."
"Yesterday, busking ball at the Burrow in Curlyfoot." Swift informs the tiefling man, breathing deeply to avoid the naturalborn instinct to pounce nd bat at the floating rocks. "he was taken because someone else tried to take a clue from a room there for their investigations into another matter, and he was wrongfully linked to the act."
"..As to your fee, I have money, I also have a selection of interesting items. I'm sure I can provide something satisfactory for your aid"
After the discovery of Karrin's victimization, the three travel a little closer together. They enter the shopping district bordering the Lady's Ward, and the beggars and jinkskirts dwindle the farther they walk into that rarified turf.
There are still pushcarts and kiosks on the road, just crying out more expensive wares. Sandwich board walkers begin to throng the street as well, touting operas, festivals and performers.
"Fresh brewed Blue Mountain coffee from the Prime! Finest beans roasted to perfection!"
"Mericent's Magic Mendings! Why trust you delicate wares to a ham-handed tinker? Mericent will make it like new!"
"Sylniverus the Bard! Known throught Arcadia and recently back to Sigil after a long tour of Mt Olympus! Smiled upon by powers and mortals both! Available for your next party!"
The group walks through the spotlessly-clean Noble's District. The streets here as always are thronged with servants busy about their various duties, many looking as rich as their masters in lace and satin clothes. A few cast appraising looks at Eir and Karrin, but most concentrate on their chores.
The group passes into the Court District. Greep can't be sure but he thinks he spots Swift and that catfolk spellslinger going into a nearby inn. He shrugs, figuring that they are OK if they are headed for a drink.
Leaving the thronged streets of the Court District, the group heads to the Temple District. The major pantheon's temples blaze forth in marble-clad beauty near the edge of the Court District, then the temples become smaller and plainer as they head for the Lower Ward border. Eir sees workbeings busy around the Temple of Calistria, presumably preparing for the inaugural festivities that would be taking place soon.
The group makes it to the Lower Ward. They cut up through the Sinker's district of Entropy's Gem where they had almost gone to ground with Nurkrak the beshattted goblin. They reach the bustling New Market, where the vendors aren't as numerous as the Great Bazaar, but they are lively.
Finally the group enters the Central District and finds its way to the neighborhood known as Sliss. The streets bustle with the reptilian version of Cager life.
The Scaly Claw tavern sits quiet on its streetcorner. When the group enters they the bartender nods at them and jerks his scaly claw back towards the room that Greep and Ffethpaar had met Wightscale in. The group sees a lot of tough-looking reptilians of various stripes sitting quietly in the corners. All eyes seem to be on the group as they head back.
Wightscale is in the backroom, along with the two henchman he had before, Sherekak and Sallistith. Sherekak is a 5’ velociraptor with a mean look, Sallistith a red-scaled lizardman similar in shape to their old friend Ffethpaar. In addition to these three is a new being, one even more unusual than the two others.
The being looks as if a kobold had gotten really drunk, had relations with a Modron, and the union bore fruit. He is kobold size, but made of rusty steel. His mouth is full of steel spikes and his iron skin bears the mark of many dings and rents. His hands terminate in clamps rather than fingers.
Wightscale looks up and grins at the group.
“welcome back Greep. I see you brought some pinkskin friends. “
Wightscale motions to some empty chairs at the table.
"Please sit down."
"Not to be rude but do you think this is going to take long? I think we can lay all our cards out on the table right now. Goblins are using slaves to mine for salt, we think those slaves are being taken from here, and freeing slaves is only a good thing as long as they got a place to return to. Ordinarily we'd take care of this problem ourselves but we don't know what to do with these 'scale skins', as the goblins put it, that these little green creeps have captured and that's why we sent feelers out into the community.
"We can use your help two ways: one you have ties scale skin community and can probably help find the homes for those that we liberate; and two you can help with the support and logistics of this thing. If you are going to bring serious forces then the plan changes to a full frontal assault and we'll need your ideas on that. Other then that I guess we need to figure out what we're both getting out of this arrangement . . . we're getting our reward simply by doing the right thing . . . and through private enterprise, but naturally we want a cut of whatever these little pukes drop, especially magical or valuable items, and any liquid assets like cash. What kind of a cut I guess will depend on what you're bringing to the table.
"I assume that you're doing it for the glory and respect of the community . . . but naturally if you want to strip the entire goblin operation bare and sell off the components we have no intention of getting in your way, I think we can let you have any of the mundane weapons and equipment straight off. Anything you guys can carry. After we get our cut we're not going to squabble of the contents of that warehouse . . . we might even know a buyer for some of the stuff you find . . ."
<Looks at Karrin.>
"Poker much?"
-hic-
Wightscale smiles at Karrin's speech
"Heh ... you are a fast-talking Clueless aint you?"
The albino kobold leans towards Karrin
"I'm doing this to protect my turf. No one, but no one what wants to keep their brainbox on their neck comes around Wighscale's turf and bobs his cullys. I'm a right mean biter, and I will make any bally sod what cross trades me bite the iron."
The momentary fierceness in Wightscale's face relaxes.
"But yeh aint the sods what done me wrong. We are on the same side for the nonce. As my ol' teacher once told me, 'The enemy of my enemy is my friend.' We gots common cause. Alls I want is me cullys back and a cut of whatever spoils there is."
Wightscale leans back and takes a sip of his drink.
"Yeh all can have the portable jink, I jest wants the location. I'll deal with me cullys when we frees them. I gots plenty of biters ready to jump, we'll handle the greenies frontwise, if yeh can do the scouting and sneakwork."
Wightscale pauses
"But where are my manners? Do yeh bloods want a drink?"
"Hair of the dog. Count me in."
Eir takes a seat.
"..As to your fee, I have money, I also have a selection of interesting items. I'm sure I can provide something satisfactory for your aid"
Sly Nye looks up at Swift and winks
"A clue from Hobbits? They've been looking for a clue since Yondalla first carved them out of horse sh*t."
Nye's cronies snicker at this bit of hobbit bashing.
"No wonder yer scragged Skrint got Gabberslugged! Hanging with hobbits is hardly healthy!"
Nye grabs his fresh ale from his minion and draws deep.
"Ahh, like mother's milk. 'Course me mam was from Plague-Mort, so her milk was always a wee bit off."
Nye looks over the group.
"I'll do the job fer three things: A fresh batch of carrots from Sheela Peryroyl's realm, a bottle of Apollonarian White wine and a banked favor."
Nye winks at Merle
"I'd do the job for less, but it IS foggy today, and the sweepstakes numbers were even last Peak."
Sly Nye looks at the group
"So do we know when Skrint meets ol' Gabby?"
"Hair of the dog. Count me in."
Eir takes a seat.
Wightscale grins
"Ah yeh look like yeh've taken a spin or two around the Wheel eh? What's yer bub? I gots some nice single malt whiskey that an associate brought me from Tir-Na-Og a few Peaks ago."
"Ka-ching!"
Eir holds out a cigar for him.
"From Oerth. Rolled by Olman slaves."
Wightscale smells the cigar and smiles.
"Nice."
Wightscale then pulls a cigar cutter from his tunic. He offers to cut Eir's cigar, then lights both with the table candle. He then sends a minion to the bar for the whiskey. The minion returns with a bottle with a black horse on the label and several squat glasses. Under the black horse on the bottle's label is the legend: Epona's Black Label Uisquebaugh . Wightscale opens up the bottle and pours a liberal drink for himself and Eir. He raises his glass.
"Death to our enemies and profits for us!"
Looks at Greep and Karrin
"Yeh want some a' this? Best whiskey on the Wheel."
"My blood burns alcohol like a flame, I gotta do some serious consumption for just a bit of payoff, so unless the taste is something special the good stuff is wasted on me. However, I don't want to be rude by turning down your hospitality, so what do you have to eat? Booze is all well and good but I'd drink water before I scrimp on food."
Karrin pats her belly before sitting down.
"I wasn't trying to be rude by insisting that you wanted or needed a cut. I was pretty sure revenge was going to be a big motivator, but even lizards have to eat, and those that have been captured deserve a bit of compensation."
Wightscale motions to the golem-like kobold.
"Clamps go get the table some of those nice Carceri Sand Grubs Dvorek was cooking for the cutters here."
The metal humanoid makes an odd growling noise and departs. He comes back with a platter of large red-shelled pillbugs, each the size of a breadloaf.
"Go ahead, they're excellent, just shell them and eat the inside flesh."
Wightscale demonstrates, ripping one of the boiled grubs apart with a wet sound.
"Fairly soon I thnk" Merle responds not sounding terribly sure
Wightscale motions to the golem-like kobold.
"Clamps go get the table some of those nice Carceri Sand Grubs Dvorek was cooking for the cutters here."
The metal humanoid makes an odd growling noise and departs. He comes back with a platter of large red-shelled pillbugs, each the size of a breadloaf.
"Go ahead, they're excellent, just shell them and eat the inside flesh."
Wightscale demonstrates, ripping one of the boiled grubs apart with a wet sound.
Karrin pulls one apart without a second thought.
The food she'd eaten while living with her father had been simple and bland. Sense leaving home she'd discovered all sorts of wonderful food. She'd discovered spice. Once, on the outskirts of Hardby, Torreen had introduced Karrin to something called lobster. It had looked awful, and initially Karrin had turned her nose up at the ugly thing, but at Torreen's insistence she'd tried just one bite . . . Karrin polished off five lobsters that night (along with an unhealthy amount of melted butter), and she'd learned a valuable lesson about food: Karrin loved it all!
Karrin, ever the messy eater, chomps into the meat with abandon. It's not long before juice and small bits of insect cover her face.
"Mot bad," Karrin mumbles between mouthfulls, "Masts a mit like momthing . . ."
(Also: Karrin?)
Sly Nye drinks down his ale
**BURP**
"Very well, if he was skragged last night, yeh've probably got three days 'fore he sees Gabberslug. Check at the Court of Woe near the Mortuary, they'll post a docket out front. I'll need yeh to tell me everything about the incident."
Looks at Swift.
"Were yeh the 'friend' that was with him? Have no fears, yeh've hired me an' I never cross-trade a client."
...
"Mot bad," Karrin mumbles between mouthfulls, "Masts a mit like momthing . . ."
(Also: Karrin?)
The boiled pillbugs do indeed taste like something, a spicy version of lobster like Karrin had tried with Toreen. There is a lot more flesh than the lobsters had, and it's easier to get out, which makes Karrin very happy.
Wightscale picks at a pillbug, and talks to Eir.
"I figure tomorrow mid Before Peak we meet at the New Market by Ironshot Road. I usually dont like working in light times, but needs must and the gobbos like it less than I does.
I can brings in about a dozen biters, an' we can start a distraction an' run for the warehouse. Once we jump color we finds where the gobbos are kipping out, me an' the boys keep 'em busy with a little frontal assualt an' your lot gets inside an' causes a ruckus. "
Wightscale leans back
"I'm assumin' they have a stockade or summat, so yeh'll need to get it open from the inside, then we gots them licked."
Looks at Eir.
"So what do yeh think?"
The boiled pillbugs do indeed taste like something, a spicy version of lobster like Karrin had tried with Toreen. There is a lot more flesh than the lobsters had, and it's easier to get out, which makes Karrin very happy.
And Greep, too- they're tasty. But he only sips from the whiskey, while he allows Karrin and Eir to direct the conversation with Wightscale.
"That's doable."
While swift explains things Merle will quickly head over to the court of woe and look for the document about trial dates.