The prisoner shows you the directions to where he found the posters and says the place is a sort of gathering point for all sorts, though you won't be seeing him there any time soon. He then departs, tail between his legs as fast as he can.
"Yes, whoever knew that device was coming would be the one who wants it."
The group heads off to the place where the captive talked about. The location he gave was a trap door in between two buildings. He gave specific directions that the group were easily able to follow. Once they arrived between the two buildings they find indeed there is a trap door quite conspicuously placed in an alley between the two. However it has no hinges, the group at first wonder why it could have none.
There is a handle that can be pulled up, whomever pulls it first finds some resistance but they do feel something shift. They can hear the sound of moving sand somewhere in the distance. A brief moment later the door gives way, from beneath the trap door a set of stairs appears building itself into the air. The stairs make their way up to near the roof of one of the adjacent buildings where it meets with the wall. When it attaches itself to the wall a doorway forms out of the clay that used to make up the attached wall.
Climbing the staircase, the group feels it isn't that secure but it is enough to hold their weight armour and all. Opening the door they are greeted by sound of what you would expect in a common tavern. The low background hum of conversation happening, laughter, the clash of tankards against tabletops. Looking in the vicinity the group several barrels with taps protruding from them. There is a bucket next to it with cash inside with a note attached in elven.
The note states Pay what you think its worth! If this doesn't make enough I'm getting something better! ~ Churtle
There are several large tables nearby with Eldred hanging around, they have what look like looted spoils, coinpurses, gems, random nicknacks on the table that they are attempting to trade with several fences.
In one corner of this place there is a wall sprawled with posters, details below them with prices. Some with multiple prices. There is a solitary creature stood nearby it. This humanoid creature seems to be made entirely of crystal and glass. It is man-sized and its head sports no eyes, nose, ears, or mouth. Its body appears razor-sharp and jagged. Its hands end in wicked claws. The group is unsure why it is there but at the very least this is indeed the place the captive talked about.
Some distance away Alþórel stops, shimmers for a second, and then has the look of a relatively plain looking elven youth.
A second's thought later and his clothes shimmer into a worn soft leather outfit.
...
Alþórel looks admiringly at the emerging staircase.
Clever - and well engineered
Assuring himself he's not in danger, he happily trots up the stairs like a much younger man. He enters without hesitation and hums to himself as he proceeds directly up to the posters.
Stopping by the crystal/glass creature he looks it up and down.
"Can you speak?" he asks (in language after language if the first fails to elicit a response).
Before Al steps in, Nethan stops him and whispers, "Are you forgetting about the wanted posters with our faces plastered on them?"
Elise waits even further from the den of thieves, relying on Amelia to provide an ample warning should she be needed further up. Casually she leant against a nearby wall and pulled out the 'poster' with foreign text she nibbed earlier and once more tried to decipher it. After a few minutes of poorly pronounced elven/eldred words and frowns she sighed and put it away again.
"Hmm. You know, we should probably get a proper set of local clothes. Where do you think they stand on veils ?"
Nethan nods and whispers, "Elise, that may be a good idea of purchasing a new set of clothing and it appears only our disguised Al can do that for us depending on how popular our wanted posters are?" Nethan then states with a wry smile, "The bonus is our assailing thieving friends will be paying for it."
The creature clinks a little bit it seems it is trying to 'face' Al. It replies as vibrations in Alþórel's ears. Alþórel doubts anyone else can hear the creatures reply. "Yes I can talk, in a manner of speaking." It makes some other clinking noises with its body, Alþórel suspects that it is laughing at its own pun.
"Have you come for some marks?" It asks.
Alþórel pauses a second as he looks into the future, considering lying to... Oh. Oh! Perhaps not.
"Nah. Someone talked about them and it sounded interesting. I guess I'm just a tourist, rather than a customer. If you're busy I can leave... but if you're stuck waiting here I'm happy to buy you a drink and talk."
He pauses for a second
"I mean, from what I heard I'm assuming all these posters are, like, half-divine, or unbeatable warriors, or millenia old wizards, or stuff like that. I mean, Maybe I'd be interested in something that wouldn't be that hard, and that I could sort of do here. I'm pretty good with a sword, and I've been told I'm very good at magic."
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The creature shakes its 'head' "I am not busy, no one has come to claim any marks recently. Folk tend to when they need the money and think a mark is worth the risk." The creature clinks again. "I am unable to drink but sitting and talking wouldn't go amiss. Many are afraid of the form but I guess that is on purpose."
The creature's interest is piqued at the last enquiry. "No, not many. Most are Eldred that are deemed.. a problem .. by one party or another. There is detail about one mark recently though. Something about a set of creatures that wear strange garb. They have a very strange mixture of colours amongst them, I do not know why. Most importantly they look for those in White that have eyes on their chests. It seems someone wants them alive, the buyer hasn't stated a name when I was given the details. Though a mode of contact was given, not rare but most people willing to pay that much aren't afraid to show their faces."
5 pouches powders
100 more coins
A bracelet with a small well of sand
A wing of a decently large incest.
Another bottle with a droplet inside similar to the one found before.
"That's terrible! I mean, it is a little intimidating, yes. Wait - on purpose? Were you reshaped into this form?"
One trouble with immortality that has afflicted Alþórel over the years is the tendency towards following up every tangent - with unlimited time there is no reason to leave curiosity unappeased.
He has forgotten, for the moment, that his friends wait impatiently outside.
Nethan waits with the others off the side with his cloak pulled up to hide his features while a disguised Al mingles inside.
"Oh no" The creature says "I was forged this way, I am meant to be somewhat threatening. For when either party kicks up a fuss."
The creature rests his back on a wall or pole nearby. "Fascinated by my workmanship? Or you here for some of what's happening over there." He motions towards the fences "You seem to be well traveled, more so then the rabble that come through here most of the time."
"I am pretty well traveled" admits the young elf modestly "Seen some incredible things. If you were forged, then I think you qualify!"
"Look, I like you - can I be honest with you?" Alþórel asks, then continues without waiting for an answer thereby rendering this a hypothetical question "I do have an ulterior motive. See... I have been asked to investigate something - not a person, so no conflict there - and in the course of doing so I think I've found evidence an old enemy of mine may not be as dead as I thought he was."
"Now, I've thought he was dead for a long time, but I think he's had some hidey-hole made and I've sort of stumbled across it. He made it a long time ago, you see" waving self deprecatingly over himself he clarifies "we're very different ages."
"I'd love to get some information on him, but I don't want him to know I'm coming."
"I sort of stumbled across this operation when it turned out someone was after something I also wanted. They told me about here, and I turned up. Yes, out of curiosity, but also because I wondered if it might be a good way to get information."
"Do you only work through the posters? Or do you work as a middleman to hook clients who want help up with investigators?"
The creature makes the clinking noise again. "I work through posters but not my colleague." The creature slaps one of his appendages lightly on the desk, his arm, except for it has no hands but that isn't something to worry about now. "You are quite intriguing, you reach further then this rabble. You just doing this to fight an old enemy or is this for a bigger bounty then I offer?"
The creature leans in. "So want to meet the face, that what you asking then? I am just the scary mask in front of him. Although I am still part of a business. Maybe a small bit of coin, or maybe a little info. Any info is worth using in this business."
"Bounty?"
"There's no Bounty on a dead man. But if he lives, and I can show it... I could raise an army big enough to take this place looking for him."
"Better for everyone if he stays dead."
"As for information, I have answers to questions you haven't thought of yet."
Alþórel scatters some coins on the table.
The creature looks at the coins and is quite intrigued by the print on them. "Very well, I wonder what those questions might be. I'll think about them another time. However come, let me show you to the 'middle man'"
Alþórel is led back to the wall of posters, the creature presses its arm against part of the wall. Alþórel can detect some magic being cast and the creature begins to fall through the wall, it beckons to Alþórel to grab its hand. When he does, the creature pulls him through the wall.
On the other side Alþórel finds himself in a lavishly decorated black interior. Carpets, glassware all have a hue of ebony. The room is a small office no bigger than 15 ft wide and long. At a table sat behind reams of papers is an Eldred clad in black himself, with two chairs in front of the desk. Alþórel knows that something is off, he hasn't seen any Eldred in black before. Something about the place gives him the creeps.
The Eldred speaks. "Kranor, you bring a guest. I hope this is important and ..." He looks up to Alþórel "Oh, something feels familiar about you, I can't place my finger on it but please sit. I have little time but if Kranor brought you here then you are after more than just money no doubt." The Eldred riffles through his paper some more.
Alþórel notes that his future has turned as dark as the room. He proceeds cautiously, his personality switching to that of a long-forgotten time, when he infiltrated Nidal.
"Kranor's crafting speaks highly of your arcane skill, sir, and he implies that your skill as a middleman is comparable. Given your time is both short and valuable I hope you will take my brevity as courtesy instead of insult."
"I seek information. I have little more than a name at this point. An ancient name, a name of power. A name to conjure by."
"I need to speak to someone who knows the true histories. Who might be able to tell me what this name means. What the being who bears it has done."
"I have no doubt this information will be expensive. How expensive I do not know, and I am not so new at this I will buy something before I know the price."
Alþórel smiles
"I am, it seems, in your hands."
And your clutches he thinks, silently.
The Eldred suddenly stops riffling. "Oh ho ho, well now. Someone not of our house that is looking for the truth behind this little plane? Now that is something, that is something indeed."
He places the papers on the table. "This info will be expensive as you say, but I feel mutually beneficial. You see by me giving you some information I am sure you are going dig deeper, yes? You are going to find something or someone, no doubt. What I want is the information of past that point. Hmm, however I might be jumping ahead here. First, let me here the name. Then, then I can confirm my suspicions." The Eldred licks his teeth in anticipation.
in for a copper, in for a gold
"Tar-Baphon."
The name stands alone. What else need be said?
The Eldred beings laughing with glee. "Ah a name I have not heard outside of the walls of Ustal. Someone has been digging deep I see! The Eldred sits comes round to the front of his table and sits on it. Using one of the chairs to rest his legs.
"Now, you say you seek someone to whom knows truth? All those who done black will know of some truths but you are seeking more than that yes? Well, for once I don't need need to send you anywhere. I know plenty about what you might call the Whispering Tyrant." The Eldred chuckles. "How bout your friends though, I see others waiting outside. Are they also after the truth?"
Alþórel can see the glint of madness in this Eldred's eyes. It appears he might have been slightly affected by digging deep into the existence of this place. However this might be beneficial to you, even if the Eldred is unhinged.
done black?
"Indeed they are. Perhaps not exactly as I do, but all are here to find the truth. May they enter?"
Nethan tries to hear what the dealings are between Al and the Eldred, mainly to hear if Al is in trouble or making progress.
"They may enter!" The Eldred begins to clear up some of the sheets of paper. "Ah do not worry about being seen in the bar." He leans underneath his desk and Alþórel detects some magic being cast. "There is now a spell activated on the doorway, anyone coming through will be ignored by everyone else in the bar. I use it to get through here most days when I'm late opening the place." The Eldred giggles, then waits for Alþórel to go get his friends.
Alþórel, caught up in being a young elf, considers using some impresive magical effect, then chides himself.
Nodding he moves through the wall, and gathers his friends.
Before Al moves through the doorway, Nethan whispers to the group, "Al is coming to get us but I am going to check the spell the Eldred just cast on the door to supposedly obfuscate our entry." Nethan double checks the spell cast on the door with Detect Magic and Knowledge Arcana to validate its safety and the group is not being fooled into peril.
Nethan discerns that the spell on the doorway is a mind altering spell, however it does not seem to affect the mind of the one it targets. Nethan concludes that it will affect the minds of those that view them. So perhaps it makes people forget that they were there.
Nethan was about to tell Amelia not to walk in but since the magic appears to be beneficial to the group, he relaxes, "Amel ... oh, nevermind." He looks at Al, "Nice spell by your friend, yes?"
"Walking trough walls? Nifty." Elise remarks as they are shown into the eldred's office.
Dreyyn walks in with the rest, eyeing those that are in the bar, to see if there is a hint of recognition.
"Yes. What would you say? Third order?"
When the group walk into the very black room the Eldred gives a small applause with his hands held near his face.
"Well done, ah I see you might be the strange folk that some people have been looking for. No matter, that reward is small fry compared to finally being free of this place! Unnatural as it is!" The Eldred coughs "Forgive my ramblings now, where should I start really?"
Nope, not unhinged at all! Elise reflects as she enters the office proper. Her train of thought races onwards and the tall woman frowns. Small fry? I feel insulted ... She sighs, shakes her head at herself and sits down at any available chair with an neutral look.
"Most stories makes most sense if told from the beginning."
Nethan nods to Al, "Yes indeed, 3rd order. The auras in detect magic reveal this as well." Nethan nods to the Eldred after his "ramblings", "If it matters, how about we start with introductions, I am Nethan and you are?"
"I am Xanroa, tis a pleasure." The Eldred says. "The beginning eh? Hah. Is there truly one, well as far as I know the beginning ain't here. We are in medias res! Very strange very strange." The Eldred keeps muttering.
"This place, there's a history beyond what the Eldred know but it doesn't have a beginning. It just came into being. There are frescoes, creatures, ancient items left behind that aren't made with things from this world. Most shrug it off as ramblings, not the Ustal though, we know full well there is something more." Xanroa paces back and forth in his meager office.
"There are things, we call em funnels. What they actually are I don't know. They have been around far far longer than anything else. These special elementals made of water, or appear as such anyway. They are actually energy siphons. Distilling energy from living beings, or I should say from Eldred. Something about us in particular that fuels their ways. I still don't know what, those things have are the start of this world and what I think made the Eldred." He laughs. "They say we were born, nay, we were made, we have to be. All pictures of the first generation, show a family. Though looking at all the houses' histories the first generation are all the same people, or .. person. How could he have been granted offspring I wonder. More importantly though, he had features that weren't Eldred. Like Eldred but not." Xanroa ruffles the lower bit of his shirt.
"Though of course you are more interested what your Whispering Tyrant has to do with all this. From what we've dug up, from what we've seen. He molded this plane from clay he brought first life here, then he vanished. We have not evidence that he stayed but he did come back. Many many years later, to what we call the King of Whispers. You have no doubt heard of him too, in that form anyway."
Xanroa bolts upright and looks at all of you. "Any questions thus far?"
A lot of what he is saying does make some sense and confirms some suspicions the group already has, though there are holes in the story that likely need filling. Perhaps things to bear in mind.
We've seen those. Elise mentally notes as the eldred mentions the funnels. Still no clue as to what they actually *do*!
When he finishes she contemplates his story for a moment before pointing at Al in his elf-shape. It probably didn't matter much, but it was an intriguing mystery...
"The original 'familiy' - where their features like his ?"
"I was thinking the same thing. Eldred look like elf-folk. There is a passage from our world to here. So it seems obvious that is how the first Eldred came to be."
our world...
"I am , the wanderer. Millenia ago your king of Whispers left my world to come here. He hid the entrance and returned to rule an army of the dead that all but conquered the living. A few mortal heroes, with divine backing, managed to drive him off and imprison him."
"As far as we knew he was all but helpless now... but a short time ago the entrance to here start emitting energy into our world."
"Tar Baphon was a monster. Whole armies could be raised to destroy anything he has made."
"But I have met Eldred here. They are people, neither wholly good not wholly bad. I would rather discover what Tar Baphon has done and then judge if it need be destroyed."