"Sounds like we'd be doing you a favor if we just happened to find who brought him in, ask them what we need to, then make sure they aren't overstepping. We could even convince them if necessary, if you want us to. After all, everyone deserves a chance to better themself before death, right?"
Vaascht nods at Rinlka's flawless logic and diplomacy.
well said
Akrynn nods at the catfolk.
Resourceful. Nice.
Ulthdar regards the guards nearby and says, "Now Rin you know I don't have any authority to authorize such an action. What I can do is give you a little tour." He leads you through an internment chamber and then up a flight of spiraling stairs to the overvault:
The upper level of the Mortuary's dome is one expansive chamber, divided by the vaulting that supports the roof. Narrow galleries run around the perimeter of the room, with dark portals gaping. Chains suspended from the ceiling support a number of iron platforms similar to those in the chambers below. Several sheet-draped bodies await interment, and several zombies shamble about the room, moving the bodies or greasing the chain tracks. From one corner a brilliant reddish light dances beneath the roof. One Dustmen is standing before a portal filled with raging flame. She's about to slide a body through the portal.
Ulthdar says, "Toranna take a break." She bows and leaves. Ulthdar flicks a red bead into the portal and it fills with raging fire again. He says, "Mourner-Tom brought in Eliath, if you can track him down he might have some answers for you but I doubt it. I won't say he's not a knight of the post but I don't think he killed Eliath."
"Could we get a demonstration of the rest of the process?"
Jek offers the dead turtle dove to Ulthdar.
Ulthdar shrugs as a zombie tosses a nearby body into the portal. At Ulthdar's requst it does the same for the turtle dove. Both disappear into the flames and then the portal closes.
Rinika gives the old man a big grin at his exposition. "Mourner-Tom. Thanks Ulthdar, you're a dear as always. We'll be gentle as long as this Tom is, then. I'll find you about that next job once I'm looking for more scratch, unless you want to tell me now."
Akrynn nods to Rinika to get more information at the mention of another job.
After Ulthdar directs the zombies to feed another body to the Plane of Fire he considers the rest of the party and says, "Sorry Rin. When we talk it will just be the two of us. No offense to you bashers but I don't know that you won't turn stag. It's personal and sensitive."
She nods, pats him on the shoulder, and starts to pull her scarves back up as she says "Later then."
She beckons to the rest of the party to head out to the streets again.
Vaascht watches the body disposal with some interest, unsurprised at the irreverence at the body being casually tossed in by a zombie.
He nods at the cat girl at the resolution of the conversation.
"Yes, let's keep moving. Get paid."
As the night wears on the bottoms of your feet become sore and blistered, it’s just after anti-peak and the night is dark.
"Anyone seen a good kip?"
Jek looks around for familiar lodgings.
Akrynn nods.
Perhaps, we report our findings to our client then seek rest for the night; before continuing.
Stoicly enduring the exhaustion and pounding headache from his earlier fight, Vaascht sighs in relief as his companions suggest rest. He was far too proud to broach the subject first when he was the most exhausted one.
"Yes, rest would be good."
Rinika tries to cover a yawn with a shrug and pulls out her guide to the city to see if there are any safe lodgings close by.
Near the mortuary is a ramshackle one room flophouse. For one copper a piece you can have a flea ridden bed and a moldy pillow.
Rest, then finish our business.
The party rests and gets a late start the next day but because everyone is used to sleeping in less than ideal conditions you feel refreshed and renewed. If only a little flea-bitten.
I say, we return to give our findings, before going further in the investigation.
Heading back through the Market ward, you cross the various merchants hawking their wares. Fine composite bows from the best goblin bowyers in Clangor's realm on Acheron to furs imported from the Beastlands. From the last book of poetry from Dockise Limn Yin, inspired by her trip to Bedlam to a merchant with only a small dot of Karach, smelted chaos stuff from Limbo.
The group returns to S&J Transport to give Mawl the good news. A single chair and desk adorn this spartan office. The tiefling is pacing back and forth, he bears pointed teeth when you enter, "The Doomguard got to Eliath! One of my cutters saw him in the Black Sail, a tavern in the Lower Ward. He was in Doomguard colors. I guess he wasn't so barmy after all!"
Vaascht wakes early from the "restful" night propped up against a wall and getting mailed by fleas to prepare his few spells for the day. Though the night was brief, it was enough to alleviate much of the trauma from the prior day's events, enough surely that he would be find for this days tribulations.
At the suggestion of returning to their employer he merely grunts and follows the group, having no real desire to steer the groups decisions on trivial manners, being primarily Evie's bodyguard after all.
not being paid for my witty repartee and charm.
Upon reaching the office he hears the mention of Doomguard and ventures.
"Doomguard? How they figure?"
"The Mortuary said they processed Eliath. Something's piked."
Mawl throws up his arms and the temperature in the room increases by 1 degree, "Maybe they faked his death so he could drop out of sight. The Doomguard and Dustmen are tight. They're up to no good. You'd better find out whether Eliath is dead or not. Maybe he stayed in Sigil the whole time and wasn't really cremated by the Dustmen."
You need him alive, I wager. Don't know much about these crews you mention; anything that you can give us for informational would be helpful.
"Intact enough to answer questions. If you have to kill him at least get his head. And if the Hardheads get involved I didn't hire you. Just verify what Zeke said. I don't trust him, heard he works for Tattershade and Lothar the Old, next I'll hear he's an informant for Shemeshka."
"I suppose we never saw the body but I've never known Eighttoes to lie to me. Let's check out this Black Sail. Theres that Mourner-Tom to talk to as well.
"Capture or maze for jink? Maybe with a good reason. Can't we just get a list of questions for him?"
Black Sails sounds interesting.
Mawl gives Jek a peery eye, "I'm looking for a portal to the Isle of Black Trees. It's supposed to have some great treasure. Eliath was the last known person to know the portal's location. Get that out of him and I'll consider the job done."
The Lower Ward, several hours later
The Black Sail stands in the shadow of the Armory, the Doomguard headquarters. The Lower Ward is grimy and gray, but not as squalid as the Hive. Dark foundries and smithies belch forth gray smog and caustic steam around the clock. The Black Sail sits at the end of a dark alley between a pair of armorworks. The blackened bowsprit of an ancient galleon juts out over the street end. The remnants of the ship's foresail sag over the figurehead. Soot has stained the sail black. Inside, there is a dim common room with dark rafters overhead and about a dozen curtained alcoves concealing the tables. Several stained and notched tables stand in the room's center, where a group of sullen crafters are gathered, drinking quietly.
"Well, at least we know what we are really looking for now."
Vaascht grumbles as they set out again.
Reaching the Black Sails the mercenary looks around the tavern with a small smile.
"My kind of place."
Staring at all the curtained alcoves Jek whispers "Private. Quiet.
Ambushy. Let's grab the closest table to the exit and order drinks."
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Rinika looks at her companions incredulously. "A table? You gonna wait for Eliath to walk up to you?"
She walks up to the bar, seeking aid from the shadows in her pursuit of knowledge, and plonks a silver on to it, and begins to warm up her chatterbox with the lubrication that the coin provides.
"So, you get a lot of new doomies here? What's the name of the boat? Are you sure this glass is clean? How'd the boat get here? Is there a special shot here for newly inducted little doomlets? Anyone join up recently? What's the qualifications?"
Vaascht follows the catgirl, suppressing a grin at her colorful mastery of the common language and negotiation tactics.
I like this one!
He stands off behind her a bit as she talks, projecting "bodyguard" to any toughs in the bar, in case her prominently displayed sword wasn't warning enough.
Or the heavily armed barataur, and gith, and human...
Well, they'll figure it out
Akrynn follows along.
Catgirl has some spunk. Let's see where she takes us...lol.
The serving boy engages with Rinika and her questions, ”Oh yeah we get a lot of Sinkers in here. Uh… I think the Black Sail, I don’t know, it’s been here as long as I’ve lived here. I don’t know about a shot but I see the new recruits smashing weapons against the outside wall of the Armory. I always hear them talking about decay and entropy and stuff. You could ask the bashers over in that booth, they're members."
Jek chuckles at Rinika's rapid barrage of questions. "Try not to harass too many Sinkers at once." He claims the table he was eying anyway and looks around for a drink list.
Vaascht looks over the group the bartender indicated, waiting for their speaker to initiate more questions.
Having been paying attention to how to speak to people, the Patryn adds,
As my feline friend has so rapidly explained, we are tasked with finding a fella named Eliath. You seen a bloke fitting this description around here?
Obviously, he needs more practice!
The serving boy answers and points to the same cloth draped booth, "Yeah he's right over there. He started renting one of our rooms almost a week ago. He's always kind to the servers."
Akrynn nods at the server, flipping him a silver coin.
Well, that worked! How do we want to proceed? I am going to have a quick look around to get the lay of the place before we confront him.
The druid walks around the outside of the tavern; he gauges where their mark is inside to relation of outside. He also looks for any extra exits besides the front.
Once outside, he draws a simple rune for Guidance.
The druid also attempts to be nonchalant about it (after drawing another rune for Guidance).
Rinika smiles smugly at the serving boy's answers. She's about to respond when her stomach gurgles and Akrynn cuts in to fill the awkward silence. "Urg...you sure this glass was clean?" She looks over to the booth with some distress when it's pointed out, but her gaze soon turns darker, almost envious, as she scans them for valuables.
After giving them a once-over, she asks the bartender sweetly, "Which room would that be, my friend?"
Suspecting that a dozen Doomguards behind the curtains could soon become upset, Jek begins sizing up the patrons he can see.
As the group moves towards the covered booth Vaascht casually sidles along, leaning on a convenient table while keeping his hand near his blade and going over his combat magics in his head, just in case.
The bartender takes the glass and gives it a good wipe and refills it, "Terribly sorry. I suggest you ask Eliath yourself if you want to see his room."
Vaascht, Jek, and Arkynn try to get a read on the room. Arkynn is the most successful, in Eliath's group there are 4 other doomlets. In another alcove is another group of 5. Arkynn catches a glimpse of one, an aasimar woman who has bought chivs like they were going out of style. Four swords at her hip and two strapped to her back. Four of the other alcoves are occupied by craftsmen, the rest are filled with mercenary groups spending the pay on their last job. Arkynn also notices a lizardman staying out of sight but keeping an eye on the room.
Rinika's nose for gold does nothing for her today.
After surveying the outside parameter, the druid returns inside and reports his findings (after tracing a Shillelagh rune on his oaken quarterstaff and a Guidance rune).
Viewing 10 potential hostile thugs relating to their objective, the Patryn grins.
So, a dust up or a parley?
Vaascht looks to the druid as he speaks absently rubbing his still bruised jaw.
"We are a bit outnumbered, so they might stand a chance. Guess we can try talking first."
As he speaks the Gith mentally tallies his scrolls and prepared spells, absently wishing he had prepared a crowd suppression spell on this day.
If we have to throw down, gonna have to do it the hard way.
Rinika pats her now-settled stomach and adjust the new spectacles that caught her eye in the market, looking over at the large collection of Doomguard. She orders a pitcher and hefts it up, nodding to her party and holding a paw out flat to hold for the moment. Calling for enhanced diplomacy from the shadows again, she walks over to Eliath's table and puts the pitcher down in the middle.
"Hello gentlefellows, I trust all is well. My friends and I would like a word with this one for a few moments, if you will, and a here's a round for your troubles." she nods toward Eliath and then gestures towards one of the open tables in the middle, in clear view of the Doomlet table.