The old woman had disappeared from the window to futz loudly with food preparation, but ducks her head back out at your questions.
"There's not law as such, only the Coteries. They do what they want and the only law is that none should interfere with trade. Of course even the Coteries don't care what happens to thugs like these. Trade or not, folks are allowed to defend their children, you ken? It's just we've not the muscle around here to defend them ourselves until you lucked down our alleys."
She seems to consider the situation, tapping a finger on her fibrous lips with an audible clicking sound.
"The way I see it, you've got three options. You could just finish the job you started." She slides a finger across her throat. "You could put the fear in them and kick them on out of the alley. Or, you could tie em up and drag em down to the Stockyards, sell em to some offworlders need miners or some other unpleasantness."
The half metal woman seems resigned, while the talkative man makes it vocally clear which choice he would prefer.
Iskender turns to his group and talks quietly so the woman cannot hear, "well, she isn't the sweet old lady she seemed at first, is she? Talk of selling the minors to offworlders is very disconcerting!"
Dilwyn laughs out loud, snapping him out of his contemplation of the strange, but also strikingly beautiful, alien sky. "She said sell them to be miners, not sell the minors," he corrects, probably unhelpfully.
"Anyway, I won't be okay with anything like slavery for anyone, big or small. While I would prefer to not to outright murder our prisoners, we do have to think forwardly about the safety of ourselves and these kids." He turns to the wounded enemies.
"So tell me what you would do if we let you go? Take your returned lives and change them for the better, or let yourselves be sucked back down the drain of organized crime?" He listens and watches intently for their reactions to his question.
"Huh! The language of this world is rife with such homophones, and I suppose we will discover them as we go. It even has a word for words that sound like other words but are different. Such confusion as that would never have happened on Golarion."
Min almost snorts at Iskendener's statement. He must not have spent much time around the learned. They use words like that all the time trying to get an advantage.
"I'm inclined to let them free with a harsh warning."
"well, she isn't the sweet old lady she seemed at first, is she?
I'm starting to like her more and more! Kit says with a chuckle.
You know we can go with the first option the old hag suggested. Er..before..not now. When she suggested we take ownership of this street! Kit says with a snap of his fingers. We could let it be known to them that this is now our street and if we catch them selling drugs on our street again then we will have Hilde take care of them. Kit says with a wink at Hilde. Also let them know that we might take ownership of other streets without telling them and the same thing will happen to them if we catch them on those streets as well!
The half metal woman nods slightly and in a hoarse, almost childish voice promises that she will find another path. She seems to be sincere.
The human is quite a bit louder and more insistent: "Just let me live and you'll see! No criminalities for me, friends! I'll fly by the straight and arrow. I'll be as virtueness as a saint."
Perhaps dazed by blood loss, or the sheer desperation of his situation overwhelms him, but it is perhaps the least convincing attempt at lying that any of you have ever heard. Five well-armed strangers raise eyebrows at him, the old woman upstairs raises an eyebrow, several of the still-high children poke their heads out from hiding places and raise their eyebrows.
"Ehhhhhh." He continues. "But failing those lofty aspiratings, I will certainly NEVER return to this side of town again." He grins hopefully with all three of his remaining teeth.
Before you both run off to start life as a goodly man and goodly...uh...woman. Have either of you heard of a Lomrick?
Hilde, not seeing more fight on those two criminals, ignores them while she destroys the drugs by throwing them into the sewers. She will then happily chase away any remaining addicted children by kicking them out of the place, a smile on her lips and a laugh in her heart.
"If we're going to take control of a street, we might want to live nearby." Min gives the slum a critical look.
”We’re not planning to stay here, are we?”
"I don't know. How will we control the street?"
The human considers the question with some gravity and genuinely trying to be helpful says, "Aye, I know plenty of lomricks: 'There was an old Xorn from Nantucket..." He proceeds to rattle of several of the filthiest poems you have ever heard, filled with horrific puns and anatomically impossible scenarios.
The half metal woman cuts him off with a squeeze of the shoulder. "I've never heard of a man by that name. But if he's a player - and by your skill I assume he must be - the Coteries will know. This world's their game board, and no pieces move without their knowledge. Make an impression on them and mayhaps they can help, though never without a price that's more than their cost."
Freed and promises (such as they are) given, the two survivors of the Red Fists hurriedly make their way away as quickly as they can manage with their wounds.
Kit thoroughly enjoys the man's limericks in spite of himself. After the man goes he says, Those were pretty good. I am going to have to remember some of them next time I'm in a tavern!
"There's these coteries again," Dilwyn muses, scratching at the beard on his neck. It's getting to the point where it probably could do with a trim while he's still in the midst of civilization, or what passes for it on this world.
"Do you know much about these coteries, grandmother?" he calls up to the elderly plant woman. "Like, would you have any advice for which ones would be most likely to deal fairly with complete outsiders?"
"The coteries? Aye, they're the big fish in this pond. Letter of the law says the Auditor rules the planet, but old Fire Eyes don't scratch her nose without asking the coteries first. Nine of them there are, and each holds at least one of the offworld gates. That's their power, see. Everything's about trade, and the only trade that matters is what can go offworld."
She disappears for a moment from the window, yelling at someone about something gone wrong in her kitchen, before popping her head back out.
"But to deal with the coteries as equals? You've got to bring something to the table to have them treat you as equals. Skills in demand. Artifacts to trade. Connections to make money. Or just good old fashioned violence. Convince them of special talents for bloodshed, and they might take on an outsider for a job in exchange for whatever it is you're looking to get in return."
She cracks her knuckles. "Occasionally young folk decide they're too big for the alleys, and want to make a name for themselves. They try their hand in the Battle Pits to show of bit of violence. Those that survive sometimes make enough of an impression to join up as hired muscle, usually with the Casticar or Dorgelf. It's nasty work, but mayhaps it could get you an in, if you can't find another angle."
She sighs. "Most folk try to avoid catching their attention, but I suppose y'all ain't most folks."
"May we come on up then and discuss these matters with you in private?"
"Of course, of course!" She yells and gestures you to follow a sapling who just appeared out of the maze of alleys to show you the way up and in. "And someone roll that mutt into a canal before he starts smelling up our alley."
You are led through a labyrinth of passages, stairs, and even up a short ladder of cobbled together scraps of wood, before arriving in a room warmly lit with glowing tubes of every color and overflowing with people of a dozen races, short and tall, wide and tiny. As you walk through the doors, the party is suddenly doused in a rain of coins, hundreds of bits of clipped copper and scrap metal used for currency by the poorest folk of the city. And a bucket of sweet smelling and fizzy alcohol is splashed over your heads as the chattering children erupt in cheers.
The old woman you've been conversing with shoulders her way through the children, shooing them away. "My apologies. Heroes are showered in liquor and loot, and I can't convince them otherwise. You should see what they do after the brickball championships every year. Hooligans, the lot of them." But she smiles as she says it and holds a rough hand out to each of you to shake. "You can call me Granny, every one else does anyway, even if I haven't seen any of my own kin in most of a lifetime."
She settles you down to a sagging table, piled high with food, some of which makes you ill even to contemplate, and much that looks the best you have ever imagined. You are each handed mismatched plates, loaded already with everything they have to offer. Battered and fried insects as large as your thumbs, pink-leaved salads that smell of rotten eggs, lumps of meat that ooze brilliant yellow juices, it's a dazzling variety. The air is redolent with heavy spice and thick sauces, which appears to be the unifying element of this world's cacophony of cuisine.
"Now, we're settled down with no one here but family. Eat and drink and ask whatever questions you will, we'll do our best to answer."
Heroes are showered with liquor and loot? I might get used to this world after all! Kit says as he wipes the alcohol from his face with his hands.
Hilde sits in the table and tries to eat whatever seems best.
Iskender eats like he hasn’t in a while, ”Granny, we are strangers here, but I mean really strangers. Until a few days ago, we didn’t even know there were other Worlds. We were stolen from our world by the klaven. We know not why, nor how. We were on a space building that was malfunctioning. We managed to just escape, through a portal, to here. How many Worlds are there? How many portals? And we think we might get some answers from a man named Lomrick. Any answers you can help us with would be great.”
Minn laughs as she is showered on money, but doesn't look quite as thrilled as she's covered in alcohol. She casts Prestidigitation to clean herself up as she takes a seat and a plate of food.
She eats a little of anything that doesn't look like it will make her ill.
"You said the coteries control off world gates. What if there's an uncontrolled gate. Could someone gain power on this planet if they control a new gate? We would like to get home to our planet, but don't know how to."
Dilwyn warily tastes what's offered. As bizarre as it looks and smells, he's nonetheless very curious about what it's like. It's like the sky outside; so new as to be bewildering, but not so much that it scares him.
"For those coteries that like strength to get noticed, do they ever support group-on-group fights? I like Hilde's chances against any opponent, but she doesn't like to say much."
"So many questions! Dig in, dig in, and I'll do my best though I doubt I know as much as many, though I know that I don't know more than most who don't."
"How many worlds?" She cackles good naturedly. "Oh children, there are as many worlds as there are stars in the sky. And as many places that aren't worlds at all, like this space station you were on. And gates to take you to all of them. They say the gates are old things, build by ancient races before any of our ancestors even lived, but I know not the truth of such things."
"You're not the first who've been taken by klaven. They're a disease on the galaxy those ones. Foot soldiers of the jagladine, they are. Anyone can become one if they're infected, though the jagladine aren't allowed to bring the assimilation strains to this world anymore else they'll be banned from trade altogether. So we're safe, such as it is. The klaven don't much think for themselves though, so if you say this Lomrick was behind what happened to you, he'll likely be a jagladine. Scary things, malevolent, they are. No souls behind those eyes, and they poison everything they touch."
"I can't say to know much about the coteries inner workings, not from down here at the bottom of the barrel, but all their power comes from the gates. If you say you've got a line on a new one ... well that's power right there. Folks will kill for that."
"If you want to get noticed with your muscles, well the Battle Pits would be the showy way of doing it. You can enter either as individuals or as a fighting unit. The latter is where the glory is. Teams slaughtering teams while the crowd cheers."
”We are familiar with jagladine and klaven, but what is this ‘assimilation strain’ you mentioned?”
Kit looks at the food in front of him. He has had better, but he has also had worst, so he digs right in.
This is the second time we heard about these pits. We might have to check it out. Kit says with a wink at Hilde.
"The jagladine are masters of poison and disease, that's what they bring to the Hegemony. They make disease like a cobbler makes shoes, they do. And their masterpiece is the assimilation strain. It's a virus that infects the mind, turns all the infected into evil things that serve the jagladine. The mind's warped from what it was, so the person is still there, but it'd slit the throats of his own babies. There are other viruses too, ones that turn the assimilated into klaven. That's what the jagladine do. They find new gates to new worlds and assimilate whoever they can and turn what they need into klaven, shock troops to conquer their own homes."
Granny wrinkles her nose. "They tried it here once on Zel Argose, three hundred years ago, but the Coteries wouldn't have any of it. Jagladine tried to send klaven through in force through a gate, establish a foothold and spread their disease in force. But the Thanex - that's the Blood Coterie - blew the gate. No one's ever done such a thing before or since. And their mages burned alive every soul within a quarter mile of the gate to be sure that the infection died then. Since then, the Hegemony is allowed in grudgingly, trade is trade you know, but any sign of assimilation strain and the city shuts down."
"Hmmm, yes, we might be familiar with some of that. So then, what do you think folks?"
Aye! That we are! Kit says remembering those they encountered in Holver's Ferry.
"It sounds like the Blood Pits are our next stop." Min is turning the children's clothing different colors as entertainment while the group chats.
"Grandmother is there something we can do for you? You have given us a lot of information, and helped us understand our new world."
"Oh no, you dears have done more than I could have asked any strangers to do by driving off those drug peddlers, and a bit of palaver and food hardly repays that sort of blood debt."
She trails off and a thoughtful look overtakes her eyes. "Although, there may be a trifling small thing. My kin has been on this world for a dozen generations, maybe more, and we'll never leave, like as not. We're not made for this desert, and our souls still crave the jungles of wherever it is we came from all those years ago. But if you could carry something with you when you leave this rock, that would mean more than you could know."
Granny gestures to the assorted family, and a small girl of her same species steps forward, with the same eyes and features as Granny so she might be family. The girl is shy and gingerly looks at the party with quick glances. Granny says something in a floral ringing language you don't understand and the girl unwinds a sprig from her arm. A foot-long and sprouting with a few tiny leaves, it detaches with a small pop and she holds it out to you.
"Wrap that around one of your arms and it'll help your body heal, not terribly much, but it gives a bit back so long as it gets a dab of water and sunlight. If you find a green world, plant that seedling, and maybe my great great granddaughters will wake on a proper world."
"You honor us grandmother! I believe that Kit, who has a connection with nature, is probably the best to carry your progeny to greener pastures, as my people say."
"Thank you for your gift. We will honor your request." Min responds. "Let's go back to our inn to rest up. We can look into the battle pits tomorrow. I'd also like to see if there is a university or library to take a look at."
This is the second time we heard about these pits. We might have to check it out. Kit says with a wink at Hilde.
Hilde winks back at Kit, a wide smile on her face.
”Let’s do it.”
Thank you Granny. If those hooligans bother you again. You send someone to find us and we will take care of them!
Min: With a little asking around, you find that there is indeed a university in this city, of sorts at least. The Chapel of the Blue Radiance holds as part of its mission to provide education to any who would want it. It is where the children of the poor can learn to read, and if they persist, achieve university degrees otherwise far beyond their reach. The children of the elites of the coteries tend to attend elaborate boarding schools offworld.
At first, I was thinking research would be useless, since we don’t speak the language, bu we DO speak it, right?
So, libraries and such? As the Bard, it’s my job to learn stuff.
Kit ears perk up at the mention of libraries. I suppose they would have maps there. I usually like to map things out first hand, but since this world is so alien, seeing some printed maps might not hurt!
You follow your trusty city map to the ruins that sparked Min's curiosity and find a vast field of rubble, mostly composed of smooth black stone that shines in the afternoon sun despite the coating of dust that seems to cover everything on this world. A few mining camps dot the landscape, seeming to be focused mostly on gathering up smaller pieces of the rubble, and leaving the larger blocks alone. The blocks - no matter how large - seem to have no texture or seams, all polished like the marble floors of a rich man's estate back on Golarion.
If you pick up and roll around a piece or two, it seems impossibly light like pumice but with an almost metallic feel. It will neither bend nor break, and slamming one piece into another seems to not so much as scratch either.
As you glance around the cityscape around you from the small rise you stand upon, you realize that the enormous black structure to the southwest seems to trace a narrow arc into the sky directly towards you like the claw of some long dead dragon god. It's called the Sky Talon on your city map, and you realize now that if the jagged tip continued its arc, it might very well trace an arch right to where you are standing. It must have been an arch once, a mile high, and now it has fallen and the scavengers have torn apart the fallen bits for the impossible metallic rock. Zeppelins and airships that must work by either magic or strange technology or both seem to be clustered around the peak of the remaining leg of the arch, using the Sky Talon as some sort of dock.
However incredible the wonders of this world are compared to Golarion, you realize that it must only be a decaying shell of its ancient glory, an ancient glory that must have put old Azlant to shame.
Kit:
Iskender: Realizing that you have been getting along fine understanding and speaking the common language of this world, your bardic curiosity kicks in and you do a few experiments. You quickly ascertain that you can read the map you acquired, and much of the other text around you in the city. It appears that you've acquired a sort of proficiency in some sort of common tongue, though not every language spoken by the creatures here. It's a weird thing, because your mind hears yourself speaking Taldane, but your ears, if you concentrate, can hear yourself saying something other than what you mean to be speaking. And when you read - the words seem to swim for a moment before your eyes before focusing into Taldane. Writing is almost a dizzying prospect as your fingers move the pen in ways you don't intend to, producing the odd letters and words that swim into Taldane after a moment. There is something mystical afoot here.
Min is fascinated with the metal, and the flying ships. "Loot at those. How do they keep them up? You could reach the stars in one of those."
Hilde seems uninterested in the ruins, not having anyone to kick around.
Kit, always glad to have someone listen to his stories, regales the monks with information on Golarion and even draws them a crude map for their archives. He asks them if there are any areas that visitors to their world should check out (and which places to avoid and why.)
Iskender will query the wise men about the history of the place? Empire? The portals? How the ships work? About the assimilation strain, and anything else he can get from them. As a Bard, I’m at least +8 in all Knowledges, more in a couple of them.
Can I check out some books, to maybe tote them with us? Or at least take copious notes?
Dilwyn almost as fascinated by Min at ruins of the massive structure piercing the sky, and even more so by the airships tethered to it. Such an idea is revolutionary to him, to be able to get so high and stay there without effort... incredible.
While at the library, Dilwyn would try to research as much of the native fauna as he can. He's especially interested in native avian life. Since he's recently discovered himself to have some shape shifting capability, he'd like to be able to blend in if he wants to.
Unfortunately, the swimming words mostly just give him a headache.
Min is fascinated with the metal, and the flying ships. "Loot at those. How do they keep them up? You could reach the stars in one of those."
At the library, one of the monk over hears your wonder and gives an almost completely incomprehensible explanation of vacuum and the atmosphere and the impossibility of dirigibles flying above a certain altitude ... but one conclusion sinks in: the stars are so incredibly far away that only gates allow travel between them. To fly between the stars would be to swim in the dark forever.
Hilde seems uninterested in the ruins, not having anyone to kick around.
Perhaps sensing her desire to fight, not a single scavenger or miner in the ruins so much as makes eye contact with Hilde, dooming her to wait for the next fisticuffs ;-)
Kit, always glad to have someone listen to his stories, regales the monks with information on Golarion and even draws them a crude map for their archives. He asks them if there are any areas that visitors to their world should check out (and which places to avoid and why.)
[Dice=Diplomacy]1d20+3
The monks are delighted at the information that you provide about Golarion, and officially add it to their roster of worlds as no one had ever brought it to their attention before. Your map, crude as it is, is immediately filed away to have multiple copies made.
They highlight a number of areas of interest for you, whether to avoid or adventure at around the world:
1. You likely want to avoid the Kaulvrex Hives marked on your world map as they are dangerous and hostile to outsiders: these strange ruptures and boils in the earth give birth to an unusual insectoid species known as the kaulvrex. These three-armed humanoids claim no history on Argosa, but Hegemony emissaries steadfastly disavow knowledge of their origin. The earliest kaulvrex appeared less than two centuries ago, and hunters swear they’ve become smarter with each encounter. Wardens of Zel-Argose and the surrounding wilds fear the bug-men have tapped into latent psychic abilities allowing them to study other cultures and learn at a rapid rate. Scholars and seekers of Patron artifacts have proposed the kaulvrex may have escaped from one of their underground complexes—taking advantage of ancient technology to evolve and advance their culture. So far, no expedition has penetrated the nesting grounds of a kaulvrex hive to confirm such suspicions.
2. Castle Torgrimm: Home to the famous star titan of the same name, this awe-inspiring structure is scaled to colossal proportions,
overwhelming those of lesser stature who dare to approach. The castle makes an impressive landmark even from miles away, built into the side of a mountain within Argosa’s badlands. The star titan Torgrimm turns away uninvited guests, as many Hegemony spies have discovered over the years, but stories still circulate about those meeting him under unexpected circumstances and offered great riches in exchange for services on distant worlds. Torgrimm maintains a non-partisan political position, enforcing Argosa’s neutrality at the center of the multiverse and allowing the various factions of Zel-Argose to engage in commerce while he pursues his own inscrutable goals off-world.
3. Bay-Livaar: For centuries, many believed no Patron ruins survived on Argosa, but eventually reliable reports convinced a local explorer to capture Bay-Livaar’s likeness on an ancient recording device, and the museum in ZelArgose now displays several images of it. The ruin itself
appears infrequently, and at multiple different locations, on the planet’s surface. Only consistent and regular landmarks among its remaining structures can reliably identify it, and the site has come under frequent scrutiny by agents of the Accord and the Hegemony. If anyone has actually entered the ruin and returned, they’ve yet to prove such claims. After a century of research—and the expenditure of no small fortune—the initial fervor over Bay-Livaar has gradually diminished to that of a curiosity, once more dismissed as an optical illusion or an unfathomable dream.