Being used to strange smells, Thom starts breathing through his mouth. "Yeah, nothing like it in all the multiverse...still we need to find some clues as to where we can find Acerack. I think the Clerk's ward is where to start our search."
Ruinblade seems delighted to have left Freeport, is less pleased at their current location.
Remove yourself from this hideous locale and seek Vocar at once.
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"Vocar...his name is Vocar." She raises a hand to her head, exasperated, "Sune almighty, this place is confusing. We need a guide."
Streetwise
Insight if needed
"Thom, do you know anything about him? Ruinblade said he was once an Exarch, does this mean he's not connected anymore, and thus we should avoid any of Vecna's locations?"
Lanthair clearly looks out of place in the swell of the planar city. He looks about with stolid distaste at the hustle and bustle. "A guide would be most welcome."
Thom shakes his head. "No I have not Raya. Heck, I do not know anyone in this city. I think we need a guide first and foremost."
A four-armed gargoyle strolls past carrying multiple trays of offal with ease.
Arishat moves her tail politely out of the gargoyles way. "We also have Chloris' contact, name of Lu, somewhere. I agree that our first priority should be Vocar, but some information on her would also be useful." Arishat sighs slightly, as she tries to remember any tales of Sigil that might be useful.
"Vocar...his name is Vocar." She raises a hand to her head, exasperated, "Sune almighty, this place is confusing. We need a guide."
"Thom, do you know anything about him? Ruinblade said he was once an Exarch, does this mean he's not connected anymore, and thus we should avoid any of Vecna's locations?"
"Vocar, Raya? Ohh...THAT Vocar! Lemme think on that..."
Thom's knowledge of Vocar is less comprehensive than he'd like. Most of his knowledge has been picked up from Lureene, whose description was less than flattering. An old human man of that name lives in the Hive. He covers a missing eye with a red cloth tied around his head and babbles nonsense.
Thom summarizes what he knows of Vocar to the others. "Yeah, if a succubus has dealing with this guy then he MUST know something...just surprised El would be interested in him at ALL..."
It doesn't take Raya long to find a recognisable human in the meat market. The scruffy urchin she picks is at least alert and eagerly holds out her hand for coin.
"I'll take you to Lu. Pay me properly and I won't even take you the scenic route," she grins.
A team of trolls hauling an enormous carcass lumber past.
"Deal"
It is just as well that you have a guide. Without her, there is no easy way to find the route through the twisting streets of the Hive.
"Got to be careful round here. The walls eat each other sometimes. Why d'you want Lu anyways? Got something to fence?"
Nearby a neoghi slaver has stopped for a lengthy argument with a group of devils. Close by an eladrin noble with a dwarf bodyguard saunters past, his luggage carried by a large lizard.
"Hope he knows where he's going. That lizard's worth a fortune in the meat market."
"Oh, Lu'll trade information. Watch out for the spores, just hold your breath til we're past them."
The urchin gestures to a pair of wandering fungi, deep in conversation and surrounded, as she points out, by spores.
"Unless you want funny dreams, that is."
Lanthair follows quietly, always alert for danger.
Barel has been uncharacteristically quiet since arriving in the hive. The booming metropolis is throwing him off his game, but he nods gruffly at the one dwarf he notices. Barel finally gets up the nerve and asks the urchin leading us around about the cannibalistic walls. "So they...eat each other? Do they ever eat the inhabitants?"
"Nah. Not on purpose. Walls get bored, see, so they eat each other and change the map. Just keep out of the way if they start moving."
"I know someone who'd love to have a wall that ate people." Arishat muses quietly, as she saunters along.
Thom glances at Arishat and starts to speak, then abruptly closes his mouth. One of his old instructors gave him a piece of advice which has served him well these many years.
Never ask a question unless you ABSOLUTELY want an answer to it!
The metronomic tapping of a cane on the cobbles as James walks down the street. A well-cut dark suit, it shimmers slightly in the flickering artificial light of Sigil. The material, a soft snakeskin, is not too fancy but has a quality that implies it's arcane nature. Looking through dark lens glasses the man slides past an eladrin juggler, tipping a felt top hat - the dark band studded with 7 diamonds that suck in the wan luminescense. The rest of the people on the street are used to the warlock, despite his rich attire they know from experience the danger of confronting the warlock.
James with a mischevious slight smile, he moves to the young guide and tries to tap the girl on the shoulder with the gemstone tipped cane. She grabs it before it even gets close to her body and pushes it away, knowing how dangerous his rod is. She winke at the man.
"Everything Jake, Hester? I see you have yourself some mizzarks." he asks using the old carnie speak, that the young guide favours. "Clearly ladies and gentlemmen of quality, may I introduce myself? Sir James Durham-Fairfax, of the Trafford Fairfaxs', at your service." he clicks his heels together and doffs his top hat in a florid bow, but he never quite takes his eyes of the group. The grey orbs observing cautiously the eclectic troupe, he puts his hand out absent-mindedly into which Hester puts a purloined watch back into his ownwership with a shrug.
Thom turns his attention to the newcomer and watches the man introduce himself. The other man sees a middle aged man, rather nondescript in looks and dress, although to the well trained eye he is far more well equipped than meets the eye. It is not too hard to figure he is a wizard, considering the robes he wears and the staff he grips tightly in his hands.
"Gee, it is sooo nice to see a friendly face here." he responds with a voice tinged with sarcasm.
There is a look of intelligence in his dark brown eyes, mixed with curiosity and tinged with a tad bit of jealousy. Thom would not be considered handsome by any stretch, but he certainly carries himself fluidly and there is no doubt he is a dangerous opponent, should he be crossed.
He inclines his head; "Of course, it is easy to find a friendly face especially when you are so richly garbed and as beautiful as you & your companions." his voice is soft and carefully modulated holding a note of sincerity.
"They're not marks. They're customers. And that's mine."
Hester returns tit for tat and deftly extracts one of her purloined gold pieces from James's back pocket. She nudges the glittering rod away with the edge of her foot.
"Of course. Good eye by the way." James takes off glasses folding them up and placing them into his waistcoat, in an attempt to appear more trust-worthy.
A wiry halfling looks warily at the newcomer. "And what is your business?" he asks in a brusque fashion.
The pint-sized martial artist is a study in contradictions. Lacking the good humor and loquaciousness of other halflings, he is stoic and reserved. His small body is athletic and full of natural tension, ready to strike at a moment's notice. He wears the traditional garb of his monastic tradition, which allows for maximum ease of movement.
He is not inclined to be trusting, but wise enough not to make enemies needlessly.
Regarding the agile brawler with a certain trepidation reserved for those that have to ability to act lethally without hesitation. James makes eye contact keeping a steady smile on his face.
"In general, or today particularly?" James questions before continuing; "Well today I was getting supplies for my alchemical experiments, but in general I am an occultist exploring the mysteries between the borders of life and death." Absentmindedly his thumb strokes over the pommel of his cane.
"I take it you are visitors to this great city? But aren't we all?" James inquires.
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Guardian Raya Iatos is a short, appealing woman with dark brown hair, tied into a ponytail. Always with a near permanent gaze of concern, she wears a full set of dwarven plate, etched with a single mark you can identify with a facet of Ioun. She's a hair thicker than most adventurers, though that and the majority of her curves are concealed by the armor.
"Have you come to hire our guide away then?" The paladin looks at Sir James, studying him.
Who is this? If he explores the borders between life and death, he may be an agent of Acererak.
Ruinblade's paranoid whisper is nearly spoken aloud and Raya can feel the sword containing itself with difficulty.
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Guardian Iatos lets out a soft sigh.
"Mysteries of life and death, you say? You refer to the Low Road?'
Just read an article yesterday discussing the concept of a 'road' one must trudge to be filed away into the proper afterlife, otherwise one could simply Plane Shift to those who have died The belief was that those who lose their way in it become ghosts and the ilk.
Figured it'd be fun to mention.
With a slight wave of his hand; "Of course I would not deprive you of your guide, MiLady. Hester here is one of the best guides, to the sector or even all of this great city. She helped me greatly when we entered the city, but I have no wish to disrupt or delay."
James moves his hand to the bridge of his nose, Raya can see that despite his efforts that there are signs of sleeplessness. His movements aren't quite as crisp and there are dark marks under his eyes. The slight small of chemicals linger on his gloves.
"A holy apostle? Just be careful around certain areas, though I am sure Hester will tell you." he continues.
Biting his lip slightly, James tries to conceal a sorrowful look in his eyes; "An interesting concept, I like to think that such planar jaunts can be prohibited by the rules. Whether axioms of natural philosophy that vary from realm to realm, or dictated by an external being."
Suddenly serious he adds; "These borders cannot be crossed no matter how much we wish it; to do so can affect the practitioner."
Realising how dark his speech has gotten; "May I accompany you, your questions are pertinent and I would not wish to delay you?" his voice holds a hint of lightness, alas it could regress into his dark philosophy.
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She muses, "The death of a loved one....for they that remain, their hearts grow weaker and weaker, for they that remain, their lives grow dimmer and dimmer. And so they stand, frozen in time, their hearts in eternal bondage...To cease to live while still breathing."
"Dreary talk. If you wish to accompany our travel, then let us be off, before Hester here gets too bored."
'Her words cut to the quick, is she perceptive or am I that obvious?'
James slowly at Raya's words his visage cools, raising an interested eyebrow. "You are sharp, clever and considerate. Let's us be on your way, to what reason did your travels take you here?"
Walking down the street; "Live for the moment that is what my brother always says."
'And probably a very nice chest at that, but the armour obscures any view.... Darn, I hope she cannot read minds; that's how she guessed about Eleanor.' James thinks, he looks across at the young paladin, his golden complexion reddening marginally.
"Well, you have come to the best place for that, Sigil is a nexus. Many have travelled through here, though there passing may be unremarked." His words trip quickly off his tongue trying to obscure any thoughts. "You have lodging, or is it a brief visit?"
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"Brief, though these things usually turn out to be some sort of ordeal of a sort. Just yesterday I spent a month in Freeport. If you've never considered adventuring, it is a life of occasional unexpected gain, and total disregard of respect."
She frowns, "Goodness, I left my manners behind at the last stop." Raya gives a courteous, but bare bow. "Guardian Raya Iatos, Templar Guard and Heartwarder. "
Thom listens to the exchange between Raya and James and again fights a feeling of jealousy welling in his innards.
Damn, he is everything I never was but what I wanted to be. Charming, dashing, oozing with savoir-faire...but he does have his own demons too...as do I.
Seeing Raya take a shine to this fellow caused him to grit his teeth.
Still, if he knows of Acerack...best to keep him close.
He extends his hand in greeting to the young man. "I don't get into fancy titles and such nonsense. Call me Thom. Thom Verikal the Wizard, if anything."
"I am called Lanthair," the halfling says with his usual brevity.