The man reacted tensely, his beard bristling as he leaned forward, showing his face to be weathered. Against all common sense, the bartender appeared to be wearing smoked glasses (or shadows of them).
"Drinks, eh? We don't have much for your kind, you know... but we have tarbrew."
The man's mouth was invisble under his hairy matting.
At Arasmes' prompting, the rest of the bar stopped whispering and stared at the newcomers as if they had grown a third head. However, the mood changed immediately.
"Giving everyone here a drink will cost you a great deal of information, I would think... would you tell us of recent-goings on the world of the living?"
Seeing that Hanethes had gone out of his way to be sociable, a group of three petitioners began to crowd around him, asking him questions about people he'd never met (most of them long-dead) and for tidings of various clans, assuming he knew much of Ustalav by his association with the others.
Arasmes nods reasonably and replies in a friendly tone "That's fine, I'm pleased to be the bearer of any news I possess. We're lately from northern Garund, so I at least am not as well informed about, say, my companion's homeland" and here he nods over at Kanthuun "as I could be. General world events, however, I am certainly aware of. But how recent do you mean? I mean, have you heard of the Red Revolution in Galt? The Goblin Wars in Isger? Khemet III opening the ruins of Osirion to foreign treasure-hunters? This year's price of dates in Katapesh? When was the last you heard from the living world?"
"The 14th of Erastus, 4600." the barkeep admitted, his facial hair wiggling as he scratched his nose. Astonishingly, this date was before the beginning of the age of lose omens.. over a hundred years ago.
Several other dates filled the air, some from as far backwards as 4300.
"Not since the day I ran into those damned bandits in Sarkoris."
Sarkoris is the site of the abyssal Worldwound. Little, if nothing, exists of all the Kellid territories in this neighboring country of Ustalav.
"Well lucky for you, those bandits are all dead. Let me tell you a little about something known as the Worldwound..."
"I am from the border of Ustalav and the Worldwound," says Kanthuun with a bit of dark cheer. "Nothing beside remains, as they say. There are scattered Kellids, my forgotten parents among them, but they are few and transient. The Worldwound consumes all."
Petrova, Katapesh being her whole world, doesn't know a lot about news from other lands, so she regales the petitioners with tales of the exploits of the Shadow Dancer.
She can also dance for the petitioners.
Drovya stands silent and aloof, keeping his eyes open for trouble.
Hanethes attempts to answer their questions as best he can, lying where necessary in a congenial way. He is exceedingly nice and polite.
The reaction to this news in the bar was split; some of the petitioners began to laugh amongst themselves, muttering about how such a fate served those 'anything-worshipers' right(obviously Kellids living away from their clans), while the others appeared absolutely horrified(these would gravitate towards Hanethes and Rogar). There were a few impartial souls, though, and these were the ones that busied themselves with the exotic, breathing beauty of Petrova.
Satisfied, and a bit too mirthful himself, Baema retrieved as many warped wooden tankers as he deemed necessary out of a storage cabinet. He filled them all within the span of a few minutes, and the entire establishment began to hop into, um, life, for back of a better term.
A particularly shapely but sallow-eyed kellid petitioner, who had been on the verge of tears, was being comforted by Rogar, even as the drinks were passed out. Drovya noticed when she asked to be brought outside; Rogar hadn't the ability to say no. Hanethes also found himself with a set of morose souls who clung to his arms(their appendages light as feathers), but they made no such requests.
A crowd began to gather around Petrova, as well. Usually no one had the heart to perform in Abaddon.
The beverage itself smelled like sweet tar, and looked just as thick. it bubbled as if there was a drowning mouse inside, but not consistently. Arasmes was given an extra large helping, for whatever reason, and Baema watched intently, as if waiting for the man to take a sip.
Baema wants Arasmes drunk, but has to see how much alcohol he can take.
All the while, Arasmes, Talon, and Kanthuun managed to pick up bits of stories from the petitioners present. Everyone in the establishment appeared to have lost their lives in a grisly murder. Odd, for a settlement in the realm of Apollyon. A verbal slip from an older waif cleared that up for Arasmes, at least, by mentioning that she had fled from Szuriel's domain with much of the others.
Arasmes lets Talon give the majority of the history lesson, that not really being his forte, and makes pleasant conversation about those things he is familiar with. He also keeps a wary eye on these people, remembering their nature, and murmurs a soft prayer while looking over the drinks, just in case.
Drovya arches an eyebrow as Rogar is led off, scratches his arm with a grimace, then leaves his drink untouched on the bar and follows the kellid and the dwarf.
Talon continues to give updates to the people in the establishment, while unsuccessfully trying to not be distracted by Petrova dancing. He peppers in a few stories about himself, all slightly exaggerated to make himself look better of course. He drinks up the tar-like beverage.
Kanthuun attempts to swirl the tar brew, with limited success.
"How do you..." he looks at Baema "...remain in your form, unchanged, for so long? Or is it not long, here?"
Arasmes detected no poisons, but could tell from his proximity to the drink that it was highly potent (a fact Talon would soon discover on his own as the first tankard inebriated him sufficiently to mess with his vision).
The other patrons drank and somehow managed to become slightly drunken themselves. In one such case, a man tried to start a fight with Talon.
"Time here is strange... one loses any way of knowing how much has occurred outside."
Baema tore his gaze away from Arasmes temporarily.
"And it marks some more than others."
Meanwhile, outside, Rogar and the petitioner that had absconded with him sat on the stoop. The woman put her head on his shoulder and spoke in hushed tones about tales of her misfortunes. The dwarf nodded, earnestly listening in front of a now-empty street.
She kept glancing around at Drovya; she seemed uncomfortable about the magus's presence for some reason.
Arasmes nods genially at this statement and sips his drink with every evidence of enjoyment. He casts a glance at the door Rogar went out of. After he doesn't see him return for a little while he begins to cast glances that way a bit more frequently. Throughout, he remains politely willing to discuss what history he knows.
Petrova grimaces at the strength of the brew, and does nothing more than sip. She makes sure to keep an eye on Talon in his state, and Rogar outside.
Drovya watches Rogar and the petitioner for a moment, then returns inside and sips at his drink.
He gasps as the potent brew burns his throat, My grandfather, he used something similar to this to take the rust off old blades I think! His eyes water, and he shakes his head, before taking more, although he is careful to alternate sips of the brew with healthy swallows of water from his skin.
What did you say this is called? he asks the bartender.
Seeing how strong the spirits are , Hanethes does not drink. While he drinks on occasion, as is the right of a follower of Cayden, he never becomes drunk. His role as a firewatcher prevents him.
"It is good drink, I hope."
Arasmes noticed the interest the barman had in his finishing his beverage.
For Petrova and Arasmes alike, it became impossible to keep track of Rogar because of the angle of his position unless they decided to, as Drovya, go outside.
"It's nothing special, kid. It's just Tarbrew. The only spirit that gets spirits off their heads." Baema replied to Drovya.
Talon began to notice that the ale he'd drunk had another side effect; the forms of the petitioners(bleary as they were in his drunken state) gained a measure of color and substance. The petitioner trying to start a fight with him, therefore, suddenly seemed a great deal more fleshy.
The Kellid in question didn't seem to need any motivation, other than his own, base desire to smack something. So, it started with a shove.
The same changes that Talon experienced occurred in the eyes of the other party members who touched the tarbrew, although much more gradually.
Kanthuun sips at the tarbrew--it was quite the night in Katapesh before they set out--and his eyes widen at the changes. "Very...fortifying..." he offers.
"Whoa, thash's strong. Whash in it?" Talon slurs while blinking his eyes. He gives a drunken wink or three to Petrova and resumes downing the brew with gusto.
"You wouldn't guess it, but the key ingredient is-,"
Sick of being ignored, the kellid petitioner shoves a more responsive target. Namely, a man who looked like he could be his brother. Unlike Talon, this other petitioner fought back. Soon, others began to join the brawl.
This would be messy.
"-fiendish dire bat blood."
A bar brawl broke out (if one could call it that). Unlike the good-natured fights Hanethes would be used to, this one was filled with malice, spoken or no.
While the adventures weren't the targets, the ones in the middle of the commotion saw many dirty tricks employed. The insults towards extinct Sarkoris only minutes ago managed to create a rift; the room had invariably taken sides. Even the spirits who had been bereft joined the fray, leaving only Baema and a few shades on the stairwell unaffected (as well as there being no sign of the one that had left with Rogar).
On one occasion, a petitioner with a broken glass barreled towards Petrova with killing intent, only to be stopped abruptly and pummeled by the kellid who started the fight.
Something that felt like a miniscule claw entered into his clothing, rummaging around.
Perception:
Knowledge planes: Are they even capable of hurting/killing these shades in a fight? Are the shades capable of harming them?
Petrova draws her scimitar as things break out, but she'd prefer to keep out of this fight as much as possible. She starts making her way along the perimeter of the brawl towards the main exit.
Petrova is unhindered in the bedlam, oddly enough.
Drovya flexes his hand, grateful for the barbed cestus already on it. Any spirit who tries me will find more than they bargained for.
In the confusion, an idea strikes him. He makes his way over to Kanthuun and whispers into the sorcerer's ear, This might be a good time to get a better fix on that piece of merchandize we're after. Shall we make for the stairway and try away from prying eyes?
Kanthuun nods. "Let us withdraw a bit. My money is on the Sarkorids; lovely, fierce people, my ancestors were. Are. Maybe we can find a few insubstantial lasses...curse that Rogar...is that even allowed for a paladin?"
He skirts the melee and follows Drovya, nodding at the Kellids with a smile.
Talon's drinking is interrupted by the impromptu brawl. He raises a fist at first to join in, but notices his compatriots leaving so he thinks better of it. He puts down what little left he has and leaves the melee along with the rest of the group. "Maybe not, but it's allowed for the rest of us." He says as he catches up to Kanthuun.
Hanethes draws his pistol, as though daring anyone to strike him, but skirts the crowd and follows the others.
Arasmes seems unconcerned with the outbreak of violence, though he does keep his hand near the hilt of his scimitar, just in case. He nods politely at Baema and proceeds around the edge of the fight to go check on Rogar. He's becoming worried.
Once at the stairway, Kanthuun discretely pulls out the Wayfinder with a practiced motion, feeling the familiar heft of the device. He looks around for a moment to see if anyone is watching.
The brawl continued noisily, with several discorporated casualties. The party members on the stairs were buffeted with the sounds of loud jeering from spectators. The petitioners in question were all over the staircase, which began to lean so horribly that any living beings on it had to brace against the rotting railings available or risk falling down into the fray below, which the barkeep himself had just joined, bellowing loudly for order.
The stairway continued to what was revealed to be a dizzying height, ceasing to wind on only to alight on the next story, which was solid, despite its appearance.
Kanthuun had a problem, however. The wayfinder was gone.
-------
Meanwhile, Arasmes exited the building just as Petrova made it out of the bedlam only to find Rogar and his new companion nowhere to be found.
There are faint footprints, however, that wind around to the back of the building.
The street was eerie, with not a soul about.
Arasmes calls upon his Inquisitorial training and attempts to follow the tracks, keeping an ear and eye out for possible enemies as he does. His hand is on his blade and he calls on the light of his Goddess to guide him in this dark place.
"Drovya. Problem." Kanthuun reveals an empty hand. He pauses to make an arcane gesture and utter a few words.
"Oh that is a problem. One of them took it. But which one? And why?" Talon points back to the brawl.
"That's disconcerting, and more than just alarming." Hanethes adds when he understands what is going on.
He looks around the crowded room, what he can see of it, hoping to spot someone acting furtively.
Problem is right, Drovya growls. One of these sorry sacks of aether is going to have a real problem very soon...He pauses, and taps his index finger to his lip, Maybe it was that one that took Rogar outside, something about that struck me as odd. We should keep the ones who are here inside while we try to hunt up that other one. Perhaps Petrova could distract them...
Drovya makes his way back down the stairs and to the outside. Once there, he draws Black Ivan to sharpen his senses.
Either way, the Shadow Dancer nods, opens her top quite a ways, let's out a loud wolf whistle, and begins a dance fit for a Sultan's harem.
Perform Dance:
Talon is about follow Drovya outside but he is distracted when Petrova starts her dance. "I'll catch up...Later." He enjoys the performance for a few moments before Drovya has to drag him outside to get back on task.
Hanethes is unable to notice anyone acting differently or suspiciously.
A sustained casting of detect magic did reveal something to Kanthuun; the person who started the fight was under an enchantment (compulsion) spell that emanated a faint aura. It also revealed an aura over a dagger Baema kept on his person. Most importantly, however, was the faint illusion (glamour) spell that moved out of range through a hole in the wall of the tavern with a strong aura of divination mingling with it. The wayfinder, perhaps? And what on earth was it doing flying away?
At any rate, it flew outside.
The bar brawl continued on its messy, bloody path, until Petrova began her sensual dance. It didn't cease immediately, but the instant one petitioner stopped, the others soon followed (after murdering the one who stopped first, of course). The breasts of a living woman could do wonders, but the dance itself was impressive enough to make an eroedaemon blush.
----
Arasmes found no absolution for his worry; the tracks seemed to elude him completely, and detect magic only served to solidify his assumption that there was something to worry about, as there was no trace of the paladin's equipment in range, either.
When Drovya and Talon left the tavern, they were greeted with the sight of Arasmes searching feverishly for Rogar, who was noticeably missing, having gone as to employ a light spell and the use of detect magic to search for some sort of trace of the man. It didn't take a interdimensional scholar to figure out what he was looking for, either.
The magus was unable to fare much better, initially, but Talon's stumbling gait caused the caster to look down at just the right time, with Arasmes' light spell hitting the tracks perfectly. Directing the inquisitor to them would be easy.
With the brawl quieted and no sign of the Wayfinder (and the people tracking it having left), Petrova lets her dance wind down. When she's finished, she coos, "Now no more fighting and I'll come back and give you all a real show!" before slipping out of the building.
Her shirt still half undone, she catches Arasmes' eye. "And if you think you're going to see any more than this, you'll have to get like those folks in there first. Dead."
Seeing Arasmes' distracted and worried expression, though, sobers her mood quickly, especially once she learns that the dwarf and Wayfinder are both missing.
"Weird things are afoot, or on the wing." Kanthuun leads Petrova to the hole in the tavern wall and gestures. "It may have gone that way. Furthermore, someone compelled this riot to start. Perhaps a distraction; perhaps that's when it was lifted. I don't recall anyone bumping into me..." Kanthuun recalls tactics from the Ustalavian streets.
"With two people working in concert, one can lift a dagger from a thief times, and I'm a mere arcanist. That must be what happened."
He glances at her state of dress, slightly distracted for a moment, trying to recall what he saw where whilst inebriated in Katapesh, seemingly a lifetime ago.
"Right. Let's go see where that hole leads. Seems everyone is outside anyhow."
Drovya points out the tracks to Arasmes. Are those the ones you're looking for, Silvertongue? He then hurries to join Kanthuun and the Shadow Dancer at the hole in the wall after casting a detect magic of his own.
Which way do you think it went, can we catch it? He frowns in thought. I am not certain, but someone may know our purpose here. In addition, Rogar is missing. We should pursue him or the device, but we should not separate ourselves further. I fear that would mean quick deaths for us.
"As much as we want to go after Rogar, we need to stay on target and get that wayfinder back. How would someone know our mission?" Talon steals glances at Petrova's exposed cleavage but quickly stops himself as to not be distracted from the task at hand.
Petrova catches Talon's glance, follows it to its target, growls something about men, and laces her top up. Extra high!
Arasmes blinks at Drovya and looks at the tracks "Yes, thank you." He then listens to the rest of Drovya's statement and flinches in shock "The Wayfinder is missing?!" he takes a deep breath then, as Talon speaks, and responds calmly once again "Alright, we must indeed decide which to go after the Wayfinder or Rogar...though I would not assume that anyone who stole it need know of our mission, they might easily simply know what one is and know that it is valuable. In any case, we have a trail to follow to find Rogar...does anyone have any such thing for the Wayfinder? Any easy way to locate it? If not, well, the two disappearances might be related and we can question those who took Rogar when we find them. I agree that the Wayfinder is a higher priority...but we work with the tools we are given."
Hanethes strokes his chin as he considers the moment.
"I fear I really don't have any magical abilities that will help us find either. Should have been a cleric. My mother always told me that."