Congruence looks to Stoney and his companions, "We apologize for misunderstanding, we have much to learn. We are thankful for our friends helping us understand. We are prepared for you to begin any time."
Sara looks incredibly proud at Congruence.
"Thank you mister Tark, you've been very generous to my friend. Once we return to Sigil, we'll come and find you at once."
Stoney nods and gets to work. After a few hours, he had Congruence kitted out in a metal box rivited to his already-metallic hide.
"There, that should do. Now you folks take care out in the Outlands. It's not the Abyss, but it's no walk in the cornrows either."
Alyse breathes a sigh of relief. The last thing she needed was to be taken in by the Hardheads, especially Theros. She idly wondered what Shadow had done to have him after her so hard. Though it probably wouldn’t take much. The nerve of him to accuse her of being an unlicensed jinkskirt!
She continued on towards the Dusty Wig.
ALyse makes it without incident to the Court District. The area is swarming with activity, the peak busy for Sigil's lawmakers.
She makes her way to the peculiar old common house. There are a bunch of barristers eating breakfast and having their first ales. Alyse spots Sly Nye at a table, tucking into what looks to be a stack of griddlecakes. He looks up, noseless face besmeared with syrup and chunks of griddlecake
"Well hello! I see the moon has risen over Sigil! How wonderful to see you this fine Peak!"
Spinning her way sensually down the pole and landing on her feet with her arms above her head and feet slightly spread Myriana glanced over at him and said, with a chest heaving from exertion, "Yep, I'm ready meow. Just let me catch my breath a second." She stood like that a moment or two more before using one foot to push off from the pole and start walking towards the door, "K ,let's go meow, nice meeting you Veria!"she called out as she swished towards the exit.
Veria waves as they depart
"Good bye and good luck! Stop by any time!"
Zadkiel and Myriana depart the shop and rejoin the throngs of Cagers sampling the temptations of Hell Street.
Late into the night, Tollard cannot resist relating to his friend Kemmen all of the interesting exploits of the day. Truly, he had an adventure that required him to research something in a library. How often does that happen?
He struggles to find sleep, but when it finally catches up with him, it is a restless, fitful sleep. All of the talk of shadows, and the mysterious city of Leng, seems to wake something within his subconscious. A dark, writhing form haunts his vision and seems to reach for him from beyond the veil. He awakes trembling in a cold sweat and struggles to rest for the remainder of the time.
He awakes weary and subdued, rather than excited, but soon regains his bearing and some interest in what the day brings. He eats quickly and strikes out early to meet Nye at the appointed time at the Dusty Wig.
Sara watches in fascination as Stoney fashions a simple armor for Congruence.
"Woah, that looks sturdy."
She gives a few raps on the armor. "How do you feel Congruence?"
"You look like an iron turtle! Have you lost any flexibility, Congruence?"
Alyse breathes a sigh of relief. The last thing she needed was to be taken in by the Hardheads, especially Theros. She idly wondered what Shadow had done to have him after her so hard. Though it probably wouldn’t take much. The nerve of him to accuse her of being an unlicensed jinkskirt!
She continued on towards the Dusty Wig.
ALyse makes it without incident to the Court District. The area is swarming with activity, the peak busy for Sigil's lawmakers.
She makes her way to the peculiar old common house. There are a bunch of barristers eating breakfast and having their first ales. Alyse spots Sly Nye at a table, tucking into what looks to be a stack of griddlecakes. He looks up, noseless face besmeared with syrup and chunks of griddlecake
"Well hello! I see the moon has risen over Sigil! How wonderful to see you this fine Peak!"
Alyse looks up, but sees little above through Sigil’s usual overhead clouds of smog. “Yes, hello,” she says. “So … what do you want me to do?”
Alyse looks up, but sees little above through Sigil’s usual overhead clouds of smog. “Yes, hello,” she says. “So … what do you want me to do?”Alyse breathes a sigh of relief. The last thing she needed was to be taken in by the Hardheads, especially Theros. She idly wondered what Shadow had done to have him after her so hard. Though it probably wouldn’t take much. The nerve of him to accuse her of being an unlicensed jinkskirt!
She continued on towards the Dusty Wig.
ALyse makes it without incident to the Court District. The area is swarming with activity, the peak busy for Sigil's lawmakers.
She makes her way to the peculiar old common house. There are a bunch of barristers eating breakfast and having their first ales. Alyse spots Sly Nye at a table, tucking into what looks to be a stack of griddlecakes. He looks up, noseless face besmeared with syrup and chunks of griddlecake
"Well hello! I see the moon has risen over Sigil! How wonderful to see you this fine Peak!"
Sly Nye cocks his head. His multicolored roostertail of a hairdo flops to the side
"well, my shady shade, today we are going to play detective. I have a client, and I want to interview him, then I want to talk to several people that were involved with the incident I'll be defending him with. I want you to help me by writing down what was said. Then, mayhap I can have you strike out and do a little sleuthing as well. "
He looks over at Tollard
"Would you like to assist, your most excell ...er. I mean, Tollard?"
“Oh, hello Tollard; where’s Calita?” Alyse asks, noticing the halfling. Then to Nye, “Alright, no problem. When do you expect your client?”
Calita had sent word that she was meeting a friend this Peak, and would likely be gone all day
Day 2: 2 BP-2AP. Festhall district-Shattered Temple District
Zadkiel and Myriana headed off into the swirling chaos of the Sensate crowds surrounding the Civic Festhall. Even for Sigil, the crowds were exotic and baroque in construction. Every size shape, gender and costume imaginable was on display. Above it all was the magnificent edifice of the Civic Festhall, the largest building in a city of immense buildings. Fully five city blocks in circumference and 400 meters tall, it loomed over the district, its surface covered with carvings, statues, follies, balconies, gardens and a hundred other embellishments.
The path from the Festhall to the Shattered Temple was not an easy one. Between them lay the Hive Ward, not the safest of places to travel. However, if one had to travel there midpeak was the proper time. The fog was as luminous as it ever got, and those creatures that disliked sunlight were inside, at least for the next few hours. The question was what path to take. The most direct path led straight through the Hive District, which was the rotted heart of the Hive Ward, and the redoubt of the Xaositect faction. Even midpeak was not a great time to go strolling through there unless you had a multicolored mohawk.
The two decided to head towards the Hall of Records, taking Crystal Dew Lane out of the Festhall District.
Crystal Dew Lane is lined with shops catering to the Sensate crowd. Crystal parlors, extreme sports, and bordellos were just a few of the sensual pleasures on display. As the two walked along there was a shout
"SNUGGLES! HEEL BOY!"
Out of the fog an immense dog bounds into view. Muscular and growling, it has a spiked collar from which a stout leash dangles. It spies Myriana and begins barking furiously, loping towards them at full tilt
“Oh, hello Tollard; where’s Calita?” Alyse asks, noticing the halfling. Then to Nye, “Alright, no problem. When do you expect your client?”
Nye finishes up his breakfast and wipes his lips
"Well, my girlfriend should be meeting him soon. Let's head out that way, shall we?"
He leans closer to them
"I just want to ask you both. Neither one of you has a problem with the Anarchist faction, do you?"
Alyse shrugged. “Not particularly. Oh, some of them are right balmy sure enough, but the same could be said of just about any Faction, couldn’t it?” She pauses and considers her earlier encounter with Theros. Anything that balanced out the extreme sort of law and order practised by the Hardheads was likely a good thing. “They’re okay by me for the most,” she adds.
The sudden charge of the dog spooked the catgirl into an instinctual reaction. She rapidly looked around and then moved towards the nearest high place she could find. She scrambled towards it and made her best jump before trying to scrabble up onto it, hopefully out of the big dog's reach.
[spoiler=If successful]Having made it to her perch Myriana unsheathed her claws and hissed at the big dog as she said, "Ha! Take that mutt! Come and get me if you can!"
Tollard approaches Nye and Alyse with a friendly nod. "That sounds like work I would be up for,"[b] he says to Nye's offer. [b]"And I've seen how justice works in this place. Maybe a little anarchy is just what Sigil needs." He grins a bit at this.
The sudden charge of the dog spooked the catgirl into an instinctual reaction. She rapidly looked around and then moved towards the nearest high place she could find. She scrambled towards it and made her best jump before trying to scrabble up onto it, hopefully out of the big dog's reach.
[dice=Acrobatics to move through the crowd]1d20+7
[dice=Acrobatics to jump (running start if possible)]1d20+7
[dice=Climb (if needed)]1d20[spoiler=If successful]Having made it to her perch Myriana unsheathed her claws and hissed at the big dog as she said, "Ha! Take that mutt! Come and get me if you can!"
Day 2. 3-2 BP. Court District-Temple District.
Tollard approaches Nye and Alyse with a friendly nod. "That sounds like work I would be up for,"[b] he says to Nye's offer. [b]"And I've seen how justice works in this place. Maybe a little anarchy is just what Sigil needs." He grins a bit at this.
Nye stands and beams a crooked smile
"Excellent! Follow me folks!"
He leads them outside and they pick their way through the early peak throng of barristers and Guvners towards the Temple District.
Once they get into the maze of temples and churches Nye leads the two to a nondescript shabby place of worship in the lower scale section closer to the Lower Ward. A sign over the door proclaims:
Temple of Dirthamen
He knocks and the door is unbolted and they are allowed inside. The doorman is a half-ogre hard case, dressed in mail and leather and carrying a large cudgel. He wears an armband with the Revolutionary League's sigil inked on it
"Good day my fine sir!" Nye chirps happily "We are here to meet my wife, Swift and your faction mate Rykos."
The doorman nods and points down a darkened hallway
The trio heads down until they arrive at a large room with a dozen high-backed pews. A cute dark-haired young woman is talking with a whip thin Githyanki at the front of the room.
"Ah there you are!" The girl says, standing and giving Nye a peck
"Who are these two?"
"My dear, this is Alyse and Baha ..errr ...Tollard" Nye winks
The young woman smiles and stretches out her hand
"Hi! I'm Swift! Pleased to meet you!"
As Nye banters with the bouncer, Alyse glances at Tollard and raises an eyebrow. Wife? she mouths silently. She’d have assumed that a Xaositect would be far too chaotic to enter into an institution such as marriage … but then Nye wasn’t much like other Chaosmen she’d come across before.
Upon being introduced to Swift, Alyse frowns slightly, suddenly annoyed that Calita had called her by her name in front of Nye – she preferred to go by ‘Shade’ with people she didn’t know – or trust – that well. She liked Nye, and appreciated what he’d done for Calita, but she didn’t know that she trusted him, or his Anarchist friends for that matter. The frown changes to a slight sardonic smile as she thinks, Well at least he didn’t call me Moon this time.
“’Lo Swift. Call me Shade,” she says, shaking the other girl’s hand. Her eyes flick somewhat warily towards the Githyanki as she speaks.
The woman smiles
"Shade it is! I was just talking to Rykos. Why don't we all sit about?"
Rykos is a typical emaciated Githyanki, looking like a tall emaciated green-skinned elf. He is dressed in dark robes, but his face is bedecked in a myriad of colorful jewels, blanketing his long pointed ears and even subdermally implanted in his high forehead. A large silver-hilted sword is scabbarded on his back. He turns eyes like silver coins shot with verdigris on the pair and nods his head slightly
After Congruence is fitted with his armor the group departs the Gear Run District and head back
Day 1-2 2 BAP-1AAP Gear Run-St. Cuthbert's
The group says their farewells and heads out back towards home. They exit the Gear Run, dodging the occasional odd contruct.
They hit Alehouse Row, which is packed to the gills with carousers.They manage to avoid any unpleasantries and head into Swordhold
Swordhold is swarming with Doomguard namers, all armed to the teeth and looking for a brawl. Fortunately, none seem interested in the tiny group as they head along the dark foggy streets. there is a sound of glass breaking and laughter in the distance, but they concentrate on moving towards the Temple District.
They enter Meatmarket Square, the unofficial entryway into the Temple District, and the Lady's Ward. Every manner of offering and sacrifice is on sale here: animal, vegetable, or mineral. A caged giant spider hisses at them as they walk by.
The temples grow in size and beauty as they walk through. The last few before they reach the Court Dsitrict are gigantic cathedrals of snow-white marble, or huge halls build of giant mahogany logs and leviathan bones.
They pass into Petitioner's Plaza, and hurry by the hundreds of gallows, each with a compliment of Cager Crows and many bearing rotted fruit. They then wlak through the silent buildings that form the nucleus of the de facto ruling faction triumverate of Sigil: The Harmonium, The Guvners, and the Mercykillers.
They segue onto Razorvine-On-Hiddleton, leaving the darkened immense governmental buildings behind. Razorvine-On-Hiddleton is the main thoroughfare for the Noble's District, and is jam packed with every manner of carriage imaginable, most surrounded by personal guards or at least a burly footman or four. They clatter down the immaculate cobbles, on their way to one or another of the many parties the hoi polloi throw each antipeak. Richly-dressed rakes and bravos saunter by, eyeing each other warily, hands on bejeweled dueling rapiers. none deign to notice the party as they wander by.
They reach Plague Court. This wide plaza is awash with off-duty Harmonium, as their favorite locale, The Square Bar sits at the edge of the plaza. None bother the party as they reach the other end of the plaza and enter Copperman's Way.
The main mercantile conduit of Sigil is packed with wagons, even in antipeak. Pedestrians dodge between them, all looking as if they are in the most desperate hurry.
Copperman's Way ends at the Great Bazaar. The giant open-air market is buzzing with activity, the stalls lit by lanterns and light globes. The clientele tends towards the sunlight-hating at this hour, but otherwise it's like any other hour of the peak.
Day 2 6 BAP-4 BP St. Cuthbert's-Planar Trading Consortium-The Outlands
The group finds their way to their beds in St. Cuthbert's without a problem. They catch five hours sleep and awake at the first bell of Before Peak.
The lack of rest makes everyone but Congruence feel slightly enervated. Congruence, of course, needs no sleep. They grab a quick pasty from the kitchens and head to the Planar Trading Consortium caravan yard.
The caravan is forming up as they arrive. Muammarak is directing the chaos. The hobgoblin sees them, and points over at a wagon in the queue.
"Good. You are here. You'll be assigned to Merix's wain. You'll do whatever he says to. Keep yer peepers open and yer boneboxes shut. "
The party heads over to the indicated wagon. It is a large wain, with a waxed canvas hoop cover and a cargo of two-meter-on-a-side wooden boxes. A team of fiendish oxen pull it. The drover. Merix, is a skinny tall elf with golden skin, silver long hair and an astonishing amount of tatoos. His left ear is gone, a knot of scar tissue marking its absence.
"Right. You three climb aboard until we port. Then I want yeh to walk along the wain, keeping an eye out for anything strange."
As the three settle into the narrow space between the edge of the wain and the cargo the wagon lurches forward. The wains head towards a large archway that seems to lead out into the narrow street. A man with a long black pole hits the arch and a silvery light floods the inside. The wains disappear one by one into the light until it's their turn. There is a flash and a stonach-turning lurch and they are surrounded by green countryside, riding a wide earthen track.
There is no sun overhead, but the sky is blue and there is a sourceless light that somehow conveys the feeling of late afternoon. Merix yells back
"Right! Off yeh go! Keep yer peepers peeled. This ain't Sigil, there's a fair bit of danger about, and it ain't the footpad kind."
Sara looks around with wide eyes. Sigil born and raised, she never left the cage. Leaving it behind was both frightening and exhilarating.
The light was more intense, and the sky... she had never seen a sky like this! And all those plants!
When Merix speaks, it takes a moment for his words to register with Sara. Her trance like state broken, she grins broadly. "We did it Congruence!
She gives the Modron a quick hug before climbing out of the wagon, energetically walking along with it.
Keeping her peepers peeled, she directs a question to Merix.
"Merix, what kind of trouble can we expect?"
Congruence pauses, distracted by Sara's hug and exuberance. The modron then tugs his blocky form out from the narrow space between the cargo and wagon's edge, trying not to scrape anything.
After stepping out of the wain, Congruence bends over and examines the green ground next to the track - poking at the grass curiously. Then Congruence looks up and stumbles backward. With wide-eyes and mouth hanging open, the modron begins to stutter, "Where- what- why- there is so much unused area! Where are the buildings and where are the people?"
The modron slowly turns in place, taking it all in - while the caravan continues on - and wistfully asks to themself, "What is the probable function of all of... this?"
Then, noticing the wagon, and Travel Friends walking away, Congruence hurries and catches up. The modron still keeps looking at all of the openness in wonder.
Alyse nods back somewhat warily at the son of Gith and glances about for a likely looking chair or patch of floor to sit. Just before she does she recalls her purpose here and asks Nye, “Do you have something you want me to write stuff down on?”
"Merix, what kind of trouble can we expect?"
Merix shrugs
"This here's The Outlands. It's the hub of the Great Wheel. Anyone or anything wot wants to get from plane A to plane B without a handy portal comes through here. We could have anything from rabid hedgehogs to fiendish dinosaurs. "
Alyse nods back somewhat warily at the son of Gith and glances about for a likely looking chair or patch of floor to sit. Just before she does she recalls her purpose here and asks Nye, “Do you have something you want me to write stuff down on?”
Nye produces a pad and a pen and ink pot
"There we are! Now, I'd like to hear the story. Alyse you take as best notes as you can, and if you get behind just pipe up and we'll take a break"
He sits on a pew next to Rykos
"Give me the chant, my fine blood"
The large dog bounds up to Myriana and snaps at her
It misses as Myriana scrambles out of reach, the dog barking madly below her
Alyse applies ink to pen with practised ease, then sits poised, pen above paper to take notes.
Sara gets weird ideas of a wave of rabid hedgehogs attacking the caravan.
Tollard is about to reach for the pad, when he sees Shade settle down with it. He instead perches awkwardly on a pew with his hands in his lap, assuming only one person needs to take minutes of this exchange.
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The githyanki begins to speak. His voice is unexpectedly melodious, almost angelic in quality, although his Planar Common has a distinct Cager Cant flavoring
"Right. So as I wuz palvering* with your bint*, me and a few of my droogs* were getting the feel for a bit of cross trading* we wuz putting over on the Hardheads. They've been up to their tricks in the Hive, trying to set up checkpoints and canning* anyone wot doesn't have their sheaves* Mr. Tinker*. We wuz going to print up a bunch of jarked* sheaves, we had one of our best jarkmen* at his kip*, but the Hardheads scragged* us but proper. Someone barked*. I managed to scarper*, but now my phiz* is on the poles at Petitioner's Square*. Plus five of the Movement's* best bloods are in the Box*"
Cant:
- Palaver=talk
- bint=woman
- droog=best friends/mates
- cross-trading=shady business
- canning=arresting
- sheaves=papers, especially ID
- Mr. Tinker=In good order/OK
- jarked/jarkman=forged/forger
- kip=dwelling
- scragged=rounded up/caught/ arrested
- barked=ratted/squealed
- scarper=run away/escape
- phiz=face
- poles of Petitioer's Square=several poles set up by the Prison where various wanted posters and bounties are displayed
- the Movement=The Anarchists' name for their faction
- the Box=The Mercykillers' Prison
Nye goes on to ask him several questions about the incident, the addresses, the names, which Rykos goes into detail about. Finally Nye signals Alyse to stop writing.
"Well, Ser Rykos, I will begin my efforts to clear your name. I will also be looking into the matter of your comrades in arms. Fear not! Stay low, and I will send word when I have some."
Nye motions for them to head out. They emerge into the quiet side street, and begin walking towards the Court District, Swift along with them now, holding Nye's hand.
"Well, we have some footwork to do! We need to meet with several people. Do you two fancy a trip to the Hive?"
Sara gets weird ideas of a wave of rabid hedgehogs attacking the caravan.
The day seems to go well. Sara is impressed by the open vistas, and despite a mild bit of agoraphobia she seems to hold up well.
After a few hours of walking, a small group of travelers pass by the caravan, certain to call out greetings and show empty hands. The group is mainly squat dragonish/lizardmen looking folks with iridescent skins and a certain cheerful look about them Their leader is a centauric stag, a magnificent set of antlers crowning a darkly-handsome head. they pass by quickly, but call out that there is no problems on the road ahead as far as they have experienced.
Alyse glances at Tollard and pulls a face (behind Nye's back). "Sure. The Hive sounds ... lovely. So ... Does what Rykos told us help? I mean ... it sounds sort of like a confession. As far as intent goes anyway."
Sara stares for a moment, then realises she must look like a prime berk and stops.
The walking hours are long, and she spends some time teaching congruence certain figures of speach.
"Hungry like a horse."
"Tired like a dog."
"Blind as a bat."
"I am... familiar with the Hive," Tollard says with some hesitation. "A great many souls call it home, for lack of any alternative. It puts things into perspective." He takes on a faraway look as a great many memories flood his consciousness.
Alyse glances at Tollard and pulls a face (behind Nye's back). "Sure. The Hive sounds ... lovely. So ... Does what Rykos told us help? I mean ... it sounds sort of like a confession. As far as intent goes anyway."
Nye checkles
"Of course he's guilty. He an Anarchist. They devote their entire existence to violating laws"
He skips along like a child playing hopscotch on the well-cleaned cobbles of the Court District's street
"We care not for matters of guilt or innocence. Guilty of what? Not allowing the Hardheads to law up the Hive? That's chaos country. There's a delicate balance to these things. The Harmonium shouldn't be grabbing for turf down there, any more than the Xaositects should set up a rave in the Lady's Library. "
He snorts
"We just need to get a little evidence of malfeasance on the Harmonium's side and we'll have the lot of Anarchists home by cycle's end"
“Well that shouldn’t be hard,” Alyse says darkly, thinking of her encounter with Hard Theros earlier that peak. “The Hardheads are always trying to pin stuff on some poor sod. But I agree with your palaver about balance … and no, best not start a rave in the Lady’s Library – that Ice Devil doorman might have a thing to say about it.”