Issac heads back towards the Great Foundry after accepting a position with the Silver Rose.[i] He heads out down Copperman's Way, the large avenue awash with palanquins, Arcadian ponycarts, rickshaws and a host of other conveyances ferrying goods to and fro across the Market Ward.The shops increase in size and richness as he travels towards the Lady's Ward. Copperman's Way debouches into Threefate Boulevard, the traffic siphoning off into a dozen side streets as goods are delivered to the top-shelf bloods of Sigil. Issac strolls along, enjoying the few trees that grow in the Cage, which line the streets hereabout. The fairly fresh air is a change over the sulphuric stinks of the Foundry District.
After passing the many magnificent mansions of the Nobles' District, Issac enters the Court District. It hums with activity as barristers, petitioners and Guvners all walk to and fro among the many buildings. It is near Peak so many are gathered at the small taverns lining the district gossiping and horse trading, their ceremonial wigs hung on hooks to keep them free of food bits.
Issac moves on to the Temple District, passing first the massive piles of important powers...
Isaac cranes his neck to meet Ombidias in the eye as best he can.
"Hey, big guy. Truth be told, I just like to smell the fumes. Makes me all... fuzzy, you know?", he says with a wry smile,"I won't take up too much of your time. I need to make some arrangements on my shift: I just found a mercenary company, "The Silver Rose" that's willing to take me on, throw me back on the Anvil, like you were saying. So I won't be able to cover the third shift for a while. If you need part-time help with anything while I'm in town or some errands out of town, I'll be happy to help out. Do you need me to finish out the rest of the week? They aren't making too many demands with my time for the moment."
Isaac cranes his neck to meet Ombidias in the eye as best he can.
"Hey, big guy. Truth be told, I just like to smell the fumes. Makes me all... fuzzy, you know?", he says with a wry smile,"I won't take up too much of your time. I need to make some arrangements on my shift: I just found a mercenary company, "The Silver Rose" that's willing to take me on, throw me back on the Anvil, like you were saying. So I won't be able to cover the third shift for a while. If you need part-time help with anything while I'm in town or some errands out of town, I'll be happy to help out. Do you need me to finish out the rest of the week? They aren't making too many demands with my time for the moment."
Ombidias smiles and looks down on Issac
"If it is time for you to go back on the Anvil, then it is time. We all must forge our souls in the Forge of Being. I can see that your soul is ready for a good hammering to proceed on the next step of your journey. Do not worry about your shift, I have many new namers who I can put on it. Go forth, improve yourself, come back and bring others with you. If you feel the need to return and quench your soul in the tempering balm of hard and boring work, the Foundry will always be here for you."
"It'd be my pleasure."Drazek, Hanali and Renkar retire to the Copper Cauldron. Renkar orders an ale and Hanali a glass of wine
"Please get something on me Drazek. Tell me about your qualifications."
"Well I'm trained in just about any weapon you'll come across, I can unleash raw undiluted magic in a blast that'll scour you to the bone or turn that magic into a solid weapon. I can get into places most people can't by walking up walls, and screw a man's luck up just by looking at him.
I know a good bit about magic, and I'm damn good at getting magic gadgets to do what I want them to."
Renkar smiles at Drazek
"I like hiring folks who are multi-talented. We are a small team, but we are hoping to take on some top-shelf missions in the future. The Cage is a good place for a specialist to make a good living. I have certain connections, and hopefully, we can make a name for ourselves."
Renkar leans a bit closer
"We offer room, board, and medical expensives including corpse retreival. We share equally any fees, after expenses are paid out, and we share equally any loot obtained during any mission. We are trying to build a reputation, so I do ask that any ...ahem ... risque behaviors be kept behind closed doors?"
Drazek catches Hanali smirking her ruby red lips at this last bon mot. She gives him a small wink behind Renkar's back.
Renkar continues
"So does it sound interesting to you?"
Ombidias smiles and looks down on Issac"If it is time for you to go back on the Anvil, then it is time. We all must forge our souls in the Forge of Being. I can see that your soul is ready for a good hammering to proceed on the next step of your journey. Do not worry about your shift, I have many new namers who I can put on it. Go forth, improve yourself, come back and bring others with you. If you feel the need to return and quench your soul in the tempering balm of hard and boring work, the Foundry will always be here for you."
"Heh. You make it sound so romantic. I'll see you around."
Isaac turns to leave, stops and looks back. He's serious for a second.
"Thanks for everything. You know, just in case whoever's manning the forge this time is a little too heavy on the hammer."
Isaac will catch some rest, hit the Wayfarer and look for some of his mates.
After calming down a little bit Merle begins to ask more coherent questions
Feline
"Go Downwards on Crystal Dew Lane till yeh get to Rook Street and look for Hiland's Pastries, just past the Hall of Records. They do some nice lamb and tater pasties for tucker. I'll meet yeh there right at Peak. . "Wip looks about
"An' Karrin, no matter what yeh do, don't go poking about Little Arcadia over thataway. Folks of your ... uh ... persuasion have a bad habit of disappearing around there. Lots of Celestial vigilantes, if yeh lanns me chant."
"Can do Wip," Karrin says, "I'm looking to do any exploring or anything."
Karrin leads her timid companion over pastry shop to wait for Wip.
"Heh. You make it sound so romantic. I'll see you around."Isaac turns to leave, stops and looks back. He's serious for a second.
"Thanks for everything. You know, just in case whoever's manning the forge this time is a little too heavy on the hammer."
Isaac will catch some rest, hit the Wayfarer and look for some of his mates.
Ombidias smiles his gap-toothed grin, the teeth gleaming white against his chocolate skin
"The hammer only hits, the metal must learn to endure and grow strong. Come back and tell me of your experiences."
Issac heads to the Dwarven neighborhood of Gurincraag and the large inn known as the Ubiquitous Wayfarer. The early Afterpeak roads are quiet, with thin soot-smirched gangs of Lower Ward children running to and fro looking for junk to sell to the tinker cart.
Issac comes to the inn, just on the edge of Brandy Lane. The Wayfarer is known for many portals, and often hopeful Clueless can be found buying expensive drinks for locals looking for the 'chant' on the portals.
Issac looks around and spots one of his faction mates Hergik Thinshanks drinking in a corner. Hergik was a good egg, working the Godsmen track the straight way, trying to get in good with the factotums and climb the power ladder. He was always good for the straight chant on Godsmen politics.
'Blacky' watches Merle for a moment, giving a small amused sound before replying.
Feline;
..but please don't tell Karrin any of this, she started taking care of me in this form before my humanoid form started working with her.::
"Can do Wip," Karrin says, "I'm looking to do any exploring or anything."Karrin leads her timid companion over pastry shop to wait for Wip.
The duo find Hiland's Pastries easily enough. The large shop is crowded as Peaktime nears, quite a few Celestials and other Upper Planes denizens crowding the surrounding area, munching on large pastry-encased sandwiches and gossiping on the benches placed around the restaurant. Karrin can see a few Fated as well, she's been in Sigil long enough to recognize faction symbols. The Fated are dressed richly, and they laugh loudly as they snarfle down pasties and sticky buns.
Looking past Renkar to Hanali he grins, "How could I turn down such an...attractive offer?"
Looking past Renkar to Hanali he grins, "How could I turn down such an...attractive offer?"
Renkar smiles and stands up to shake Drazek's hand. Hanali smiles a bit differently, mischief dancing in her violet eyes as she rises also.
"Excellent. Why don't you tie up whatever loose ends you need to and come back and I'll introduce you to the rest of the team."
The duo find Hiland's Pastries easily enough. The large shop is crowded as Peaktime nears, quite a few Celestials and other Upper Planes denizens crowding the surrounding area, munching on large pastry-encased sandwiches and gossiping on the benches placed around the restaurant. Karrin can see a few Fated as well, she's been in Sigil long enough to recognize faction symbols. The Fated are dressed richly, and they laugh loudly as they snarfle down pasties and sticky buns.
Karrin can't help but smile when she spies the angels but she still feels shy around them . . . and very subconscious about her horns. She does her best not to make eye contact.
"Heh. You make it sound so romantic. I'll see you around."Isaac turns to leave, stops and looks back. He's serious for a second.
"Thanks for everything. You know, just in case whoever's manning the forge this time is a little too heavy on the hammer."
Isaac will catch some rest, hit the Wayfarer and look for some of his mates.
Ombidias smiles his gap-toothed grin, the teeth gleaming white against his chocolate skin
"The hammer only hits, the metal must learn to endure and grow strong. Come back and tell me of your experiences."
Issac heads to the Dwarven neighborhood of Gurincraag and the large inn known as the Ubiquitous Wayfarer. The early Afterpeak roads are quiet, with thin soot-smirched gangs of Lower Ward children running to and fro looking for junk to sell to the tinker cart.
Issac comes to the inn, just on the edge of Brandy Lane. The Wayfarer is known for many portals, and often hopeful Clueless can be found buying expensive drinks for locals looking for the 'chant' on the portals.
Issac looks around and spots one of his faction mates Hergik Thinshanks drinking in a corner. Hergik was a good egg, working the Godsmen track the straight way, trying to get in good with the factotums and climb the power ladder. He was always good for the straight chant on Godsmen politics.
Isaac makes his way over to Hergik, careful not to whistle anything or hold anything in hand that might trigger one of the portals nearby.
"Hergik, old son! How are you?"
The half-elf motions to an empty chair.
"Mind if I cool m'heels?"
Merle nods
Feline
Karrin can't help but smile when she spies the angels but she still feels shy around them . . . and very subconscious about her horns. She does her best not to make eye contact.
The two find a bench to sit down at to await Wip's arrival. He strolls up a few minutes later, swaggering through the crowd as if he was eight feet tall. Most folks give him a wide berth.
He spots the two, and saunters over.
"Ah I see yeh found it all right. If you want, I'll take a mutton and tater pasty, a couple of eclairs, some onion rings and a mug of sugarberry juice."
Wip eats like a typical halfling: With gusto. After he polishes off his pasty he belches, takes a long draw off his sugarberry juice and looks as the duo sitting with him.
"So how can yer neighborhood Harmonium Mover be of service to yeh today bints?"
"Hergik, old son! How are you?"
The half-elf motions to an empty chair.
"Mind if I cool m'heels?"
Hergik looks up and grins
"Issac! Please have a seat! Yeh jest missed Springhill, he's been promoted to shift leader on the pouring line."
Hergik calls for a server and leans over the table.
"So whats the chant Issac? What's new in the polishing section these peaks?"
With a feline grin Swift transforms back to her humanoid form and fixes her hair. "Let's get going then" She declares easily.
The light begins to fade as Swift and Merle prepare at the Copper Cauldron. The two come to the common room to whistles and claps. Ramona looks faintly envious, but she is busting a hump getting drinks on the tables for a crowded room. The bard playing in the corner strikes up "The Fair Rose of Lunia", a popular recent tune.
Sly Nye whirls in at this moment, decked out in a very dashing outfit with coat, vest and silk breeches with gold buttons. His normally unruly coxcomb of hair has been somewhat tamed, but a stray lock peeps out here and there. His ioun stones seem to have been put away for the evening. He sees the two and bows low
"Such visions of loveliness! If you two were any more visions I should have to be locked up with the Bleakers!"
He gestures to the door.
"Our carraige awaits outside mesdames. I ran into Skrint as we pulled up, he's waiting outside. He asked if someone could keep Swiftfang company tonight, they're by the fountain."
Outside a nicely-appointed carraige with two footman and a driver waits, the Arcadian ponies pulling it snorting and waving their shoulder tentacles. The two can see Skrint and Swiftfang by Copper Court's large water fountain. Skrint is talking softly to the cat.
With a small smile Swift bows her head a little to Sly "If you'll excuse me a second I'm going to go speak with them" She declares certainly before hurrying over to Skrint and Swiftfang, her hand immediately finding 'fang's head and gently caressing his fur.
Feline;
Swiftfang growls deep
Feline:
Skrint smiles and meowls
Feline:
Skrint laughs briefly
Skrint has dressed in a dark linen suit with a rich hunter green cloak attached by a silver brooch fashioned as a catclaw. He still looks a bit tired around the eyes, but seems in better spirits
Swift gently touches her nose to Swiftfangs and gives a gentle purring response.
Feline;
Gently she kisses the top of the large cat's head before looking up at Skrint and smiling apologetically.
The four gather in the coach and head our once Swiftfang is parked by the hearth. The four bundle into their carraige and head out to the Lady's Ward.
After a swift trip down Copperman's Way through the wide streets of the Nocle District, the carraige pulls down Dossy Street and parks at The Fortune's Wheel.
The building is ancient but well kept. Dozens of rich palanquins and carraiges queue up outside, disgorging jewel-bedecked potentatates from every faction. Nye hops down and extends a hand to Swift.
"Madame?"
Swift gives a grin as she gently takes the offered hand and hops out of the coach beside Nye. "Thank you" She purrs, giving his hand a gentle squeeze before releasing it.
"So how can yer neighborhood Harmonium Mover be of service to yeh today bints?"
"Well Wip my companion is looking for someone and we'd like to know some of the proper channels fer finding him. See he's an elderly man and he might not be all there, perhaps there's an asylum we could check, maybe you know who we could ask to see if he's in holding somewhere . . . hmmm, perhaps there's a community? Anything you could tell us would be a big help! He's a xeph by the way, that might help a bit . . ."
"Hergik, old son! How are you?"
The half-elf motions to an empty chair.
"Mind if I cool m'heels?"Hergik looks up and grins
"Issac! Please have a seat! Yeh jest missed Springhill, he's been promoted to shift leader on the pouring line."
Hergik calls for a server and leans over the table.
"So whats the chant Issac? What's new in the polishing section these peaks?"
Isaac takes a seat, orders a glass of wine, some cheese and some fruit (apples would be great) and whatever Hergik wants.
"Damn shame, would have liked to see that basher; deserves that promotion. Polishing detail's same as ever. New guy, Marius something-or-other's having a hard time. Nearly lost all the toes on his right foot when he dropped a tub of fixtures. I like him okay and he's pretty trig after a fashion but forge work doesn't agree with him. Hope he can stick it out. Amren is as bad as ever. I'd never believe his grand-daddy were an Asura if he didn't keep reminding everyone. Celestial blood he may be, but he's vicious as a baatezu when it comes to angling for advancement. Even if he is handy on the line, I'd take a team of Mariuses any day: even if I have to baby sit a little, it's better than watching my back all the time."
The scout fiddles with his iron ring a little, then continues.
"But the real chant for me is that I'm going off the polishing section. I took up a position with the Silver Rose. Mercenary company, lead by a blood named Renkar and a drop-dead gorgeous aasimar. I guess they prefer the term "security specialists" but, well, let's call it as we see it. Fair terms, too, so I think this could be a good outfit. Haven't met any of the other mercs yet. Ombidias has let me off, so I'll be hitting the Planes again soon. What's the chant with you, old son? Oh, by the way: I'm buying tonight. I'm in the mood to celebrate."
Merle lowers herself out of the carriage next to swift looking wide eyed at everything around her.
Anything you could tell us would be a big help! He's a xeph by the way, that might help a bit . . ."
Wip frowns.
"Well, it's not me avenue of experience mind, but if yeh have an elderly berk what might be confused, yer best bet is to check out the Gatehouse. Yeh know, the Bleaker's faction headquarters. They takes in the barmies off the Hive streets and tries to rehabilitate them like. Never heard of a Xeph afore, what kinda Clueless place is he from?"
Karrin:
Gathering up what little courage she has, Naridre speaks barely above a whisper.
He's from a world called Shalon. Xeph look a lot like dark-skinned humans, and try to pass as such more often than not. They are shorter on average, and they can see in the dark, and they are good at using the powers of the mind.
At that, she hunches over hiding behind her hair and silently cursing her presumption in speaking out.
...
"But the real chant for me is that I'm going off the polishing section. I took up a position with the Silver Rose. Mercenary company, lead by a blood named Renkar and a drop-dead gorgeous aasimar. I guess they prefer the term "security specialists" but, well, let's call it as we see it. Fair terms, too, so I think this could be a good outfit. Haven't met any of the other mercs yet. Ombidias has let me off, so I'll be hitting the Planes again soon. What's the chant with you, old son? Oh, by the way: I'm buying tonight. I'm in the mood to celebrate."
Hergik smiles as Issac spins his chant out
"Heh. Amren is a bit of a prat. Often wondered why he didn't stroll down to the Fated when he was a young sod, they'd have loved his mercenary attitude. Still, takes all kinds of ore to forge a sword as they like to say."
Hergik frowns when he hears of Issac's leaving
"That's too bad Issac. Yer a steady cutter an' a good sod to have at yer back in a tavern. I was hoping mayhap you could be one a' my wingmen heading up into the factotum ranks. I'll need steady bloods at my side when the time comes. Still ... The soul needs experiences, an' I aint so foolish as to think everyone gets their best bits from working in the Foundry! Yeh'll still be based in Sigil, an' mayhap knowing a top-shelf merc's not such a bad thing for a cutter what wants in on the factotum game .."
Hergik smiles again
"Well, let's celebrate! 'Specially since yer buying an' I got tomorrow off! Springhill'll be back sooner or later, an' we'll have to get a regualr drinking crew together!"
At this moment a large warrior-looking type come stomping up
"Ummm, excuse me ..err. 'cutters'. Would you know where I could find the portal to the Prime Material plane world known as Tana? I was told it was somewhere in this inn .."
Hergik smiles wide and his accent magically thickens
"Oi berk, yeh be sodding up the wrong leafless tree, yeh be! Someone's lanned you the crooked chant! Yeh want to go out of this kip, bang Spirewards 'till yeh've reached the Sign of the Spotted Otter, then head down Red Fort Street a block, then Downwards two blocks till yeh see the Grinning Grue Inn. Stand under its sign, twirl thrice widdershins and sing I'm a pretty pretty bint. Yeh'll be there in no time..."
The warrior looks very confused, but bows and tosses a gold piece on the table
"Many thanks Sir cutter. I will try to find this place." Nods to the coin "For your trouble."
Hergik smiles even wider
"May the Lady cast her shadow on yeh, noble Prime!" He says in a bright voice, scooping up the coin
The warrior departs and Hergik laughs
"I guess the first few rounds are on that Clueless leatherhead eh?"
Gathering up what little courage she has, Naridre speaks barely above a whisper.
He's from a world called Shalon. Xeph look a lot like dark-skinned humans, and try to pass as such more often than not. They are shorter on average, and they can see in the dark, and they are good at using the powers of the mind.
At that, she hunches over hiding behind her hair and silently cursing her presumption in speaking out.
Wip frowns
"Mind power eh? Yeh, stuff like that'll drive yeh barmier than a Spire God for truth. My advice is ta check at the Gatehouse for new residents."
...
"But the real chant for me is that I'm going off the polishing section. I took up a position with the Silver Rose. Mercenary company, lead by a blood named Renkar and a drop-dead gorgeous aasimar. I guess they prefer the term "security specialists" but, well, let's call it as we see it. Fair terms, too, so I think this could be a good outfit. Haven't met any of the other mercs yet. Ombidias has let me off, so I'll be hitting the Planes again soon. What's the chant with you, old son? Oh, by the way: I'm buying tonight. I'm in the mood to celebrate."
Hergik smiles as Issac spins his chant out
"Heh. Amren is a bit of a prat. Often wondered why he didn't stroll down to the Fated when he was a young sod, they'd have loved his mercenary attitude. Still, takes all kinds of ore to forge a sword as they like to say."
Hergik frowns when he hears of Issac's leaving
"That's too bad Issac. Yer a steady cutter an' a good sod to have at yer back in a tavern. I was hoping mayhap you could be one a' my wingmen heading up into the factotum ranks. I'll need steady bloods at my side when the time comes. Still ... The soul needs experiences, an' I aint so foolish as to think everyone gets their best bits from working in the Foundry! Yeh'll still be based in Sigil, an' mayhap knowing a top-shelf merc's not such a bad thing for a cutter what wants in on the factotum game .."
Hergik smiles again
"Well, let's celebrate! 'Specially since yer buying an' I got tomorrow off! Springhill'll be back sooner or later, an' we'll have to get a regualr drinking crew together!"
At this moment a large warrior-looking type come stomping up
"Ummm, excuse me ..err. 'cutters'. Would you know where I could find the portal to the Prime Material plane world known as Tana? I was told it was somewhere in this inn .."
Hergik smiles wide and his accent magically thickens
"Oi berk, yeh be sodding up the wrong leafless tree, yeh be! Someone's lanned you...
Isaac keeps his best poker face while Hergik is messing with the Prime, then laughs uproariously when he leaves.
"Aye, if you say so Sir Cutter. Though now I'm tempted to go and catch the entertainment you've arranged for the Grinning Grue this evening."
Isaac stares mock-wistfully at the doorway where the Prime disappeared.
"He WAS a pretty, pretty bint wasn't he?"
Wip frowns"Mind power eh? Yeh, stuff like that'll drive yeh barmier than a Spire God for truth. My advice is ta check at the Gatehouse for new residents."
"Thanks Wip, could I get some directions? Oh, and take a subtle glance out of the corner of you eye at the green skinned guy with the brown wings over yonder, is he someone I should worry about?"
Merle lowers herself out of the carriage next to swift looking wide eyed at everything around her.
Swift, Merle, Nye and Skrint all descend from the carraige and head to the emtrance of the Fortune's Wheel. A constellation of well-dressed bashers sweep through the large entryway, most with an entourage of bodyguards and sychophants.
Inside might be characterized as an 'inn', as Celestia is characterized as a 'mountain'. The building is obviously ancient, but it is fairly well-maintained. There is something extra about the place, an electric feeling in the air.
A large bar is dominated by a giant carved dragon that twists along the mirror in a serpentine fashion, ending with its head at the corner of the bar. The carving seems to be holding a conversation with a gaggle of spidersilk-clad drow females.
Several gaming tables line side parlors, the cries of winners and moans of losers spicing the atmosphere. A smiling bariaur waiter leads the four to their table. Nye passes him something and the waiter smiles and bows.
"Order what you like cutters, it's on me tab tonight." Nye says expansively
Hergik laughs at Issac's wistful stare.
"I get so tired of these leatherheads asking me fer directions like I was the Master of Portals. Like I'm supposed to know which drink will port him to his podunk world."
Hergik calls over the waiter.
"Oi! Couple of house ales an' a few loaves of bread if yeh please."
"Thanks Wip, could I get some directions? Oh, and take a subtle glance out of the corner of you eye at the green skinned guy with the brown wings over yonder, is he someone I should worry about?"
Wip ponders, munching thoughtfully on his pasty
"Well, yeh'll have to go all the way through the Hive towards the Ditch on the Lower Ward side. Yeh can't miss the Gatehouse, it's a huge building. It's in the Madhouse District, So follow the gangs of barmies along the way."
Wip looks at the green-skinned winged fellow.
"Tch. That's Horace. His grandfather is the Planetar Joy of Light, the proxy for Pelor."
Wip lowers his voice
"Chant on the street is that Pelor has been losing worshippers lately to some new powers. A hundred years ago almost every Clueless that wandered through here has his symbol on something they was wearing. Now ..not so much. No one's seen Joy of Light for years, an' Horace has been trying to make a name for himself as a champion of justice. He might think yer up to no good. I'll straighten his jolly green ass out if yeh want."
Wip puffs up a bit, kind of funny considering he is about 2' 6" tall.
Hergik laughs at Issac's wistful stare.
"I get so tired of these leatherheads asking me fer directions like I was the Master of Portals. Like I'm supposed to know which drink will port him to his podunk world."
Hergik calls over the waiter.
"Oi! Couple of house ales an' a few loaves of bread if yeh please."
"Truer words have rarely been said, mate. I'm always amazed how few berks want to stop and look around, get a feel for a place before breezing through. Like our friend, there: you remember the first time you've been in the Cage? Was the first thought in your head,"Bloody hell, I've got to get out of here"? No! The way I know you, Hergik, you thought,"How can I get a piece of this?" Center of the Multiverse and all they want is to leave as soon as possible. I just don't understand."
Isaac scratches his goatee.
"That's not to say the rest of the planes don't have anything to recommend them. But damn, why would you want to go straight back to the Prime when you've got the only place in the Wheel where a deva and a pit fiend pass each other on the street with a simple,"How do you do, governor?" Leatherheads."
"That's not to say the rest of the planes don't have anything to recommend them. But damn, why would you want to go straight back to the Prime when you've got the only place in the Wheel where a deva and a pit fiend pass each other on the street with a simple,"How do you do, governor?" Leatherheads."
Hergik pounds the table with his fist
"Precisely! And the way they act! 'Oh I'm the head wizard of the Barony of Arglebargle! Best be wary of me!' And they strut around like we're all some unwashed peasants like they muck around with back home. Pah. I'm a fourth-generation Cager. Me Granther was an Earth genasi me great gram was an archon. These Clueless don't impress me."
Hergik smiles
"This is the place to be, never doubt it. The Cage is the portal to everywhere! Why would yeh want to live anywhere else?"
"Yar. Let me tell you, Sigil's a fine change of pace after eight months of Acheron and it's thrice-damned iron cubes, goblins and bladelings. Hells, I swear I nearly got lockjaw just from breathing in that burg. Two words: Un. Sanitary. But you know what I like? I like to see how a cutter acts when he ain't here, you know? Like on their home plane? Who goes off on the slightest thing because they know they're the biggest basher in the neighborhood, who softens up and lets their guard down, who's only pretending to be the archmage of what'sitcalled just to see what it's like. That's bloody interesting stuff, right there."
Isaac contemplates his drink for a moment.
"I do miss Yggdrasil sometimes, though. And there's precious little wildlife around here, that's what I really miss when I've spent a long time in the Cage. Something as simple as birdsong and the light through a canopy of trees. Shipping out with this Silver Rose outfit'll be good for me, I think. Seeing the planes makes you appreciate Sigil all the more."
"I do miss Yggdrasil sometimes, though. And there's precious little wildlife around here, that's what I really miss when I've spent a long time in the Cage. Something as simple as birdsong and the light through a canopy of trees. Shipping out with this Silver Rose outfit'll be good for me, I think. Seeing the planes makes you appreciate Sigil all the more."
Hergik nods
"Yeh being a Cager born an' bred I find the trees and such a bit daunting. An' we have the Astral Streakers, Elysium Thrushes and pigeons for birdsong round here, that's good enough fer me."
Hergik coughs a bit as someone opens the door and a fresh wave of Lower Ward sulphur smog comes into the tavern.
"I do have to say I could do with a bit of fresh air on occasion."
The door of the Wayfarer closes, and the smog-shadowed form clears to show Issac and Hergik's chum Springhill Jak entering. The Air genasi has skin of a robin-egg hue, and silvery hair that flies around his narrow goateed face. He spots the two and strides over.
"Wotcher cutters? I just was lookin' for yeh Issac, a little ..um .. well I guess it'd be a big damn bird told me you were thinking on shipping out to the Wheel soon."
Wip looks at the green-skinned winged fellow."Tch. That's Horace. His grandfather is the Planetar Joy of Light, the proxy for Pelor."
Wip lowers his voice
"Chant on the street is that Pelor has been losing worshippers lately to some new powers. A hundred years ago almost every Clueless that wandered through here has his symbol on something they was wearing. Now ..not so much. No one's seen Joy of Light for years, an' Horace has been trying to make a name for himself as a champion of justice. He might think yer up to no good. I'll straighten his jolly green ass out if yeh want."
Wip puffs up a bit, kind of funny considering he is about 2' 6" tall.
"Na, I don't want to cause no trouble. He was eying me, and keeping in with what you were saying earlier I didn't want to walk into some kind of trap. If you go over there and rough him up he might look to make trouble for you or me later. Sids I know Pelor, he comes from my world, and he's not a bad sort . . . not my particular religion, but his followers aren't the blood thirsty type. My kind usually are sadly. Some tieflings are rotten to the core, they didn't have a good upbringing or something, or they worship some stupid death or destruction god. Maybe you could talk to him when we leave so we can get out of here without him mistakenly starting something?"
. not my particular religion, but his followers aren't the blood thirsty type. My kind usually are sadly. Some tieflings are rotten to the core, they didn't have a good upbringing or something, or they worship some stupid death or destruction god. Maybe you could talk to him when we leave so we can get out of here without him mistakenly starting something?"
"No problem Miss Karrin. I'm a good judge of cutters, an' I can tell despite yer heritage yeh're a good egg. Soon as I finish me tucker I'll have a word with young Horace."
The door of the Wayfarer closes, and the smog-shadowed form clears to show Issac and Hergik's chum Springhill Jak entering. The Air genasi has skin of a robin-egg hue, and silvery hair that flies around his narrow goateed face. He spots the two and strides over."Wotcher cutters? I just was lookin' for yeh Issac, a little ..um .. well I guess it'd be a big damn bird told me you were thinking on shipping out to the Wheel soon."
"Cool yer heels, Jak, and I'll give you the chant. I'm back in the sellsword game, starting now. Trig lot of bashers hired me on as a scout for their company and I don't take 'em for the sorts to leave a sod blowing in the wind like another group I could name. Want your usual, old son? We'll toast your promotion."
"No problem Miss Karrin. I'm a good judge of cutters, an' I can tell despite yer heritage yeh're a good egg. Soon as I finish me tucker I'll have a word with young Horace."
"Thanks Wip, and my offer still stands, if you're ever at the Copper Cauldron I'll buy ya a drink. Oh and if you catch wind of ancient xephs, who answer to Majeed, you'll send word our way right? I can be found at the Copper Cauldron or the Silver Rose most days so leaving word there is best but I sometimes work for the soup kitchen or at the church . . . er, my church. Rao, god of forgiveness. Oh and thanks again for the info Wip, I knew you'd have the info I needed."
"I'll have a glass of Raarewl please. How about you swift you want one?"
Far from a subtle soul at times like this swift takes the opportunity to indulge herself, ordering drinks that look intriguing and not caring to ask their price and generally happily fitting in to her surroundings.
"You may learn to regret your generous offer" She informs Nye with a playful smile over the rim of her glass that contains an especially colourful liquid concoction.
Merle begins to look over a menu for something with either a lot of meat or a lot of fish in it.
"Cool yer heels, Jak, and I'll give you the chant. I'm back in the sellsword game, starting now. Trig lot of bashers hired me on as a scout for their company and I don't take 'em for the sorts to leave a sod blowing in the wind like another group I could name. Want your usual, old son? We'll toast your promotion."
Springhill sits down.
"Aye, just a house ale, Issac. Last time I ordered something else I took an unexpected trip to Ecstacy!"
The three chat and gossip for a bit, Jak telling about his promotion, Hergik talking about the different factotums in the Godsmen he is cultivating.
The three collect a few other Godsmen as they drink and the Afterpeak light out the grimy inn windows fades into Before Anitpeak. They have a rollicking time.
As they go on, the inn fills, some Clueless, some Doomguard. A few cutters use several of the many portals attached to the doorways and windows to travel out of the Cage.
Just as things are getting rowdy, a fight breaks out between a Doomguard namer and a Clueless. The Wayfarer erupts into a swirl of thrown punches, flying ceramic mugs and splintering chairs.
... Oh and thanks again for the info Wip, I knew you'd have the info I needed."
Wip touches his tiny helmet.
"No problem miss Karrin. It's my job to maintain Harmony and Order on these mean streets. If I ever get reassigned to the Market Ward I'll take yeh up on the offer."
Wip finishes his tucker, nods farewell to the two and strolls over to Horace.
"I'll have a glass of Raarewl please. How about you swift you want one?"
The waiter brings Merle her Raarewl and a bright-colored fruit concoction called a Mertion Mai Tai. Nye has an odd drink called a Lava Blob and Skrint sticks with some Krigala mead.