The city of Sigil has ten million stories. The Cage never sleeps, and its rainy streets throng with adventure. Sometimes, the adventure is of a solitary nature. These are the stories of those solo quests
Cut scene to Rhiannon’s funeral....
Alessia’s new party members are busy mourning their compatriot. Alessia stays in the background of the event, saying nothing. She didn’t know the person, and mourning her seemed irrelevant. Her simmering anger and thirst for revenge were the only emotions that hadn’t been burnt away by the long years of her undead quest for Acererak. She had an odd sense that allying herself with these people would bring her closer to her objective. She wasn’t sure why she felt it, but Fate has led their paths to intersect. For now, she would travel with them until she found the tracks of her quarry.
The cenobite Mara walked toward her isolated standing spot. The creature was hidden behind her mortal seeming, all human beauty and grace in a dark silken dress and golden jewelry. A stylized screaming skull pendant brooch, the sigul of the Dustmen, inset with ruby eyes is pinned to her shoulder.
“I see you still travel with these folk” Mara says conversationally
“Do you plan to stay with them? You need not, there are other options. I know you are a powerful entity. The Dustmen are always looking for new members. We are outnumbered by the living, and they fear us.”
The small sickly-looking girl sidles up behind Mara. Despite her urchin-like frame, she is dressed well, and she wears a Dustmen brooch on her dress. Alessia can see the ravages of starvation still extant on the corpse
“Why do you help these breathers?” The girl hisses
“They will betray you. They fear your power, as they fear anything they cannot understand. They have dedicated their lives to killing those like us.”
Mara turns to the small form in annoyance
“Hexnala, you are here on probation. Mind your tongue. You swore an oath not to interfere with this ritual, or accost any attending. This includes Alessia.”
Mara turns back to Alessia.
“I apologize for my associate. She is still bitter about losing such a magnificent vessel as Rhiannon. “
She looks to Alessia
“I understand if you wish to remain a free agent, and I know you have a score to settle. You talked of it back on Tcian Sumere. However, we Dustmen are a valuable resource for those of us that walk the Ashen Path of immortality. For example, I thought you might need a few basic items”
Mara reaches into a small purse she carries and brings forth several items: a black crystal, a pendant with a small obsidian mirror attached, and five dark tiles with red runes
“These are a Crystal of Night, a Necklace of Past Seeming, and tiles of negative energy healing *”
*Items:
Mara looks at Alessia appraisingly
“I know you have your revenge to accomplish. I propose nothing that will impede that. But I want you to think on what you will do when that revenge is accomplished. What will you do next. You are immortal, at least to aging. We play a long game here in the Mortuary. “
She hands the items to Alessia
“These items are gifts, with no strings attached. Use them, or not, as you will. I do not ask for your fealty, only for your consideration. If you have need of help, or you come to desire the companionship of entities like yourself, we are here”
She smiles, and her mortal seeming slips, revealing her true nature for a moment before reforming
“The Dead are nothing if not patient”
“I see you still travel with these folk” Mara says conversationally
“Do you plan to stay with them? You need not, there are other options. I know you are a powerful entity. The Dustmen are always looking for new members. We are outnumbered by the living, and they fear us.”
The small sickly-looking girl sidles up behind Mara. Despite her urchin-like frame, she is dressed well, and she wears a Dustmen brooch on her dress. Alessia can see the ravages of starvation still extant on the corpse.
“Why do you help these breathers?” The girl hisses, “They will betray you. They fear your power, as they fear anything they cannot understand. They have dedicated their lives to killing those like us.”
Mara turns to the small form in annoyance.
“Hexnala, you are here on probation. Mind your tongue. You swore an oath not to interfere with this ritual, or accost any attending. This includes Alessia.”
Mara turns back to Alessia.
“I apologize for my associate. She is still bitter about losing such a magnificent vessel as Rhiannon."
Alessia lets out a low, wheezing chuckle.
"You need not apologize. The small one is merely wrong."
She shrugs, her tension appearing to ease somewhat. Addressing both, she continues.
"I do not help these "breathers," as you call them; they are a means to an end. They do not fear me for my power, for I hardly have any left. Once, I had the favor of a god. Now, I have only my sword, my shield, and my hatred. I have no illusions, any of them are a match for me, even the garrulous wizard. No, they fear me because I am fearful."
“I understand if you wish to remain a free agent, and I know you have a score to settle. You talked of it back on Tcian Sumere. However, we Dustmen are a valuable resource for those of us that walk the Ashen Path of immortality. For example, I thought you might need a few basic items”
Mara reaches into a small purse she carries and brings forth several items: a black crystal, a pendant with a small obsidian mirror attached, and five dark tiles with red runes.
Mara looks at Alessia appraisingly.
“I know you have your revenge to accomplish. I propose nothing that will impede that. But I want you to think on what you will do when that revenge is accomplished. What will you do next. You are immortal, at least to aging. We play a long game here in the Mortuary. “
She hands the items to Alessia.
“These items are gifts, with no strings attached. Use them, or not, as you will. I do not ask for your fealty, only for your consideration. If you have need of help, or you come to desire the companionship of entities like yourself, we are here”
With the offer of gifts, Alessia's bearing stiffens with distrust.
"You say you do not ask for fealty, but your offer would suggest otherwise. Do not speak to me of immortality. I have pursued my quarry for nearly four centuries, and once he is erased from existence, I do not plan to continue. I would not have my revenge only to become beholden to another."
She hesitates for a moment, letting out a small noise of disgust, then pockets the crystal and the tiles. Guessing its function, she holds out the mirrored pendant.
"And why do you give me this?"
Alessia lets out another low, creaky laugh as she gives her now-distant party a sidelong look, making sure no one can see her. Gently, she removes her mask, revealing a withered dead face that would appear almost serene if it were not for the burning red lights where her eyes once were.
"Does my appearance not please you?" she asks, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
Mara stares back. Her appearance shifts as her true corpse-green bald-skinned visage replaces the comelier human one. Golden wires from a cruelly-tightened headband on her forehead attached to the vertical slash in her throat jerk and bob as she talks, crystalline fangs clacking together.
“Your looks are yours. If you wish to display them, that is your decision. I find it easier to get what I need from people when they do not automatically shy away from me. But, perhaps you don’t need anything. You seem bound to keep arms-length from anyone who would wish you an ally”
Mara regains her human seeming. She glances at the mourning party, then back at Alessia
“I wish you luck with your vengeance “
She walks away, the scrawny girl-thing scuttling beside her and giving one last stink eye towards Alessia
Mara stares back. Her appearance shifts as her true corpse-green bald-skinned visage replaces the comelier human one. Golden wires from a cruelly-tightened headband on her forehead attached to the vertical slash in her throat jerk and bob as she talks, crystalline fangs clacking together.
“Your looks are yours. If you wish to display them, that is your decision. I find it easier to get what I need from people when they do not automatically shy away from me. But, perhaps you don’t need anything. You seem bound to keep arms-length from anyone who would wish you an ally”
Alessia replaces her mask.
"Fine. I will keep the damned thing. But both you and I understand that there is always a cost for such allegiances. Just know that I will be prepared when it comes due."
Mara regains her human seeming. She glances at the mourning party, then back at Alessia
“I wish you luck with your vengeance “
She walks away, the scrawny girl-thing scuttling beside her and giving one last stink eye towards Alessia
After waiting some time to make sure the pair are entirely out of sight, Alessia quietly makes her way back to the rest of the party.
"Hmmmm..."
Mara quips before walking off
“Allegiances ALWAYS have a cost. That’s why they are allegiances. The trick is to make them mutually beneficial costs. The whole is often greater than the sum of the parts.”
CUTSCENE - TWO PEAKS PRIOR TO RADIANT SEA TRIP
Justin arrives at his apartment after a long peak of haggling with Rovuk about their trip. After heading back in the rain (thank goodness for his new Cager Cloak) to the Silver Rose and getting the green light on a loan from Renkar, Justin was beat. He slouches down the damp steps, wondering for the thousandth time why he had rented a room in a cellar of a building in a city where it rained every day. His apartment’s puddles had puddles. Sky’s subtle hints to find new lodgings were becoming less subtle every day.
On his door, a frowning mouth has appeared. Justin knew this dazzle, but hadn’t seen it applied to his own doorway before. As he approaches the mouth it begins to speak:
Citizen Justin Case, you are hereby commanded by the Harmonium to appear with all due haste to the City Barracks. Present yourself to the desk Mover to receive further instructions. Failure to comply is considered a crime under SMC 16.5 § 37(a). Have a good peak, Citizen
Justin listened to the magical mouth charm complete its delivery with a raised eyebrow. Once its message had been completed and it had faded from view, Justin said a few choice, draconian words.
In Draconic.
"NOW what?!?" He mused aloud, the persistent rain dripping off of his new Cager cloak, yet somehow still managing to get the tip of his hawkish nose wet.
The Harmonium didn't post a message-mouth at your door to demand you turn yourself in for arrest. They preferred to do that cheerful duty in person.
And besides, he hadn't broken any Sigilian Laws or Harmonium Regulations.
At least not that he was aware of.
At least not intentionally.
At least not Recently.
Justin sighed. It was highly unlikely to be another consulting gig either.
While Most of Murphy's co-workers liked, or at least tolerated, Justin's Friendship with the diminutive Harmonium officer and his occasional magical assistance, the majority of the Harmonium disliked bringing 'outside consultants' into their cases. Murphy usually came around and found him herself if she thought he could be useful on a case. And if she thought the office would cover the expense report. A couple of times she had sent a runner to collect him because the need was urgent. (Which meant that the Harmonium had been 'desperate' for answers. But they would never admit to that, so,... 'Urgent'.)
So?!? WHAT could it,... be,... about,...?
Murphy.
Justin's weary and sigil-soggy brain finally clicked the mental flint and steel together enough to light the metaphorical candle above the wizard's head. It was a dimly flickering light, but it persisted despite the typically soggy Sigil late-peak.
Justin had not seen Murphy for a while now. The last time had been, when?
Oh yes. Before the last trip through Yggdrasil, the World Tree. AND all of the 'side-trips' THAT particular trek had generated. He had gone to talk to the red-headed halfling and ask her a question before the Rose Crew set out on that dangerously de-railed assignment. But she wasn't at her apartment, and she hadn't been in the Harmonium offices either. The Mover on duty (one of Murphy's friends) had mentioned that she was out on an assignment. Something about investigating a reported nest of Vampires in the Sigilian under-city? But hadn't given him any other details.
And of course since he had gotten back, he had been so tired, then busy, (then both), that he hadn't had the chance to see her and do their usual ritual of drink-and-catch-up that they usually managed after he returned from an inter-planar jaunt.
COULD the summons have something to do with Murphy?!?
Only one way to find out.
Justin cast a long, lingering glance towards his basement apartment doorway. He sighed again, longing for the warm fireplace, and the even warmer Skyy hopefully waiting within.
Justin rested his chin on his chest and allowed himself one, brief moment of melancholy. When he raised his head once more, his chin was firmly set.
Non-vague threats of legal action aside, Justin was no fair-weather friend. If the summons WAS about Murphy,... Well he had asked her for far more favors than she ever had asked him. He wasn't about to ignore her if she needed help.
And if it WASN'T about Murphy,... Well then his wizardly curiosity was officially peaked.
Justin consulted his mental map of Sigil. It wasn't TOO late, and the offices of the Harmonium weren't TOO far,... But he was tired, and it was (as usual) far too soggy to allow him want (or even pretend to want) to walk or dash through the city. And he would rather not use his memorized teleport spell unless he had too.
Justin reached over his shoulder and stuck a hand into his backpack. The magical haversack's enchantments knew what he wanted and put it into his palm before he had finished closing his hand.
Justin looked both ways, making certain that there weren't too many people nearby, or a large wagon hurrying down his minuscule side street. Once assured that there was no one in harms way, he held up the tiny brass figure of a Gryphon and whispered to it.
"Goldenwing."
Justin then tossed the figurine up into the air, reflexively taking a step back for safety.
The tiny statue flew upwards, then vanished silently. There was a BAMPH of displaced air, and a Grypon with familiar brassy-gold plumage appeared between the buildings of the narrow lane, beating it's wings to turn it's fall into a graceful if abrupt landing.
The gryphon looked up at the dreary, typically rainy Sigil sky, then looked at Justin quizzically.
"Yeah. I know buddy. NOT my first choice for a picnic either. Sorry pal, but somethings come up and I need a ride. Don't worry. I'll make it up to you. I'll let you take Skyy shopping!" Justin grinned despite the persistent drip of water off of his nose and stepped up on the gryphon's proffered foreleg to mount Goldenwing's back. Recent practice had made the move far more smooth and impressive than his early attempts had been.
"Let's go! Fast as you can! The quicker we get to where we're going, the faster we'll BOTH get dry! Well, the faster YOU get to dry off anyway." Justin encouraged Goldenwing wryly.
He tightened his grip on the feathered mane as the Gryphon tensed and sprung into the air, Goldenwing's wing-beats causing the detritus of the narrow lane to whirl up into a small, soggy cyclone.
Despite the rain, Justin let out a whoop of pleasure as he steered Goldenwing towards the harmonium offices.
The gryphon gives Justin a quick cat-like butt of his feathered head, as if to say it’s ok. The winged beast launches into the rain, shaking the droplets off without a care.
Ascending quickly, The pair are soon above the relatively low cloud deck. Sigil has breathable, if chilly, air all the way through its donut-hole center, and Justin can make out a few other flyers and even a few floating structures above the grey band of cloud that arc away from him.
Goldenwing dips back under the clouds after about 15 minutes of flying and deposits Justin in front of the City Barracks. Seeming to understand Justin’s inevitable entry he morphs back into the small figurine.
The City Barracks is a huge grey-stone edifice, made to emphasize the solidity and permanence of Law. It also was a hell of an intimidation factor. Justin scales the wide grey steps up to the wide doors.
A flow of cutters wind their way in and out. Some voluntarily, others ... not so much. The City Barracks has its hands full trying to impose order on a city like Sigil. Red-armored ‘movers’ corral all manner of miscreants across the worn black granite floor of the main foyer.
A row of Harmonium movers behind grills in the far wall are attended by long lines of cutters waiting to ask something. Justin sighs and joins the smallest line.
What seems an aeon later he finally stands before a fat Mover in ill-fitting red armor. A scent of onions waft down as he grunts at Justin
“Business”
Justin explains his impromptu summons and the husky Hardhead pulls a clipboard off the wall and consults it. He grunts again, or at least Justin thinks it’s a grunt. It might have issued from elsewhere...
He hands Justin a red chit with the numbers 3/243 scrawled on it
“Third Level, room 243. No loitering or dipping into anywhere else unless you want the Mercykillers to host you for a peak or two “
With that, Justin heads up a long set of stairs. He makes it to the indicated room with no problems and finds it a small room with two chairs and a desk. The chairs are on either side of the desk, and small. Justin is just trying to squeeze himself into one when the door opens.
Murphy’s partner Ral Karmagak enters. Ral has never been a fan of Justin’s, but he usually tolerates the gangly wizard for Murph’s sake.
Ral is a Harmonium’s Harmonium, what they call ‘lobster core’ in Hardhead circles. His outer look is slovenly Orc with a dash of lower planar heritage to add spice. A true son of the Hive. He’d never grace the Hardhead’s recruitment posters, but the unshaven whiskered face hides a razor-sharp intellect.
Ral brushes some crumbs off his wrinkled uniform and sits in the chair opposite Justin. He looks the wizard up and down.
“You heard from Murphy lately?” He asks
Justin meets Ral's flat gaze, and gives a small, tight-lipped smile.
"I'm fine, thanks for asking. Nice to see you too. It HAS been a while, hasn't it? How's the family?" Justin rambles cheerily, his smile growing larger with each question.
It wasn't that Justin LIKED ticking people off. Really.
It was simply a gift.
But no matter how much the wound-too-tight, straight-laced, 'Lobster Core' Ral might grate on Justin's fun-loving, (IE= I LIKE to bend the rules) nerves, Justin still easily admitted that he was a far cry above 'Dick', (sorry, RICHARD), who had been Murphy's partner when Justin had first arrived in Sigil. Now THERE had been a hardhead in EVERY meaning of the word. Most of them not complementary.
"And the WEATHER! Crazy right? I saw daylight for like, a whole five minutes yesterday! I thought I was gonna get a sunburn!" Justin continues, seemingly oblivious to Ral's obviously-growing impatience. When Justin saw the big vein in Ral's forehead throb, once, Justin knew his fun was over. For now.
Justin holds up his hands in the universal sign of surrender and peace.
"Easy Ral. Sorry. I'm just yanking your chain. It's been a long day for me too. Getting you to smile would have been the Elysium Cherry on top of the Abyssmal Sundae of a month I've been having. Seriously. I mean, I've to Ranais this month. Twice." Justin explains contritely. He pulls out a handkerchief and dabs his face, then gives it a little wave like a flag of truce.
Justin meets Ral's steely gaze, and Justin decides for the umpteenth time that those intelligent eyes did NOT belong in that face. Justin Sighs wearily.
"No Ral. I haven't seen Murph lately. I've been traveling. A Lot. Silver Rose business. Mostly. I've only been back,..." Justin looks at the uninteresting ceiling and waggles his fingers as if counting.
"Um, What day is today?"
Justin shrugs. "Well, a couple of days or so. And we're getting ready to head back out soon. I actually tried to talk to her before we left, but she wasn't available. Something about being on a special assignment. Looking for a Bloodsucker nest or some such jungle rot?"
Ral keeps up his interrogators stare, but nods slightly when Justin mentions the bloodsuckers
“Yeah. She was looking into something. Not entirely on the square”
Ral stares harder at Justin
“You know Murph is a good Harmonium. She’s more like an old-time Paladin type. Sometimes this rubs the uppers the wrong way. We uphold the Law. We’re not here to do anything else. Murph sometimes forgets that. That’s how she ended up on the SVU Squad”
Ral eases his hard stare a bit and sighs
“No ones seen her for a few peaks. She’s missed shifts. My contacts say she’s not anywhere they know of. I’m asking you, unofficially, to keep your peepers peeled for her. I know you got your own business, but when you get a chance, ask about. I’d consider it a personal favor .”
Justin rubs the bridge of his nose at this news.
'Yeah,... Missing shifts? That's not like Murph. At All.'
Justin nods to Ral. He actually liked the guy alright. Respected him even. They just weren't compatible enough personality-wise to ever end up being best friends. But if he were ever in a situation that required a solid, dependable, lawful warrior-type,... well he'd first pick his holy-warrior friend Micheal, an actual paladin with a personality much more compatible with Justin's own. But Ral would be a close second choice.
Justin nods and gives a small, serious smile.
"Of course Ral. You don't even have to ask. It's for Murph."
Justin unfolds his lanky form from the torture device, I mean uncomfortable wooden chair.
"Can you let me into Murph's desk for a moment? I don't need any of the paperwork or anything, I'm sure you've already searched through all of that for clues already. I need something personal of hers. Jewelry she always wears except on duty, or Hair from a brush will do. I don't know if I can do any long-distance tracing spell that will actually work in Sigil's overly-warded borders, but I know if I can get close enough I can pinpoint her location that way."
Ral nods
“Follow me”
He leads Justin to a small room with a sliding curtain instead of a door. Inside is Murphy’s small office. A halfling-sized desk and chair sit among a well-ordered collection of files and books. A sense crystal sits on the desk, as do several mementos and trophies from her unarmed combat tourneys. A set of Harmonium armor is arraigned on an armor stand in the corner, gleaming with oil
Justin nods his thanks as he enters the curtained office.
Very few places make Justin feel even taller than he is, Murphy's office was one such place.
He glances around at the tidy, ordered office and nods again. Yep. THIS was definitely Murph's office alright. He moves to the desk and begins carefully but quickly glancing at the items on top, especially any papers.
(Despite what he told Ral, Justin would be perfectly happy to find a note the hardheads would have overlooked.)
Justin then carefully opens the small drawers, looking for something that Murph would have had a personal attachment too. AS he had told Ral, a hairbrush with hair on it would do, but he was hoping for something more,... Emotionally connected to the fiery redheaded harmonium.
Justin sees a few stray blonde hairs, but no grooming tools. The sense crystal catches his eye. Those often held memories of the owner, and were not cheap. If Murphy had one in her desk it would point that it was personally important to her
Justin carefully folds the few stray strawberry-blond hairs that he finds into a small handkerchief and tucks it into a pocket.
He tilts his head quizzically at the crystal, finally realizing it is a sense crystal, and not a paperweight.
Justin plucks it from its wire-stand and looks at it. He can't help but wonder,...
Justin turns and holds the crystal up for Ral to see.
"I think this might be very useful. I'm going to borrow this. With your permission of course."
"I'll sign for if you wish, of course. I just thought, since this is Off the books,..." He smirks. Just a little.
Justin's face turns solemn. "Don't worry. I'll give it back to Murph personally. Soon as I find her."
Ral frowns
“Take it, but know this: Murph won’t talk to either you or me again if it comes up missing. So be careful “
Justin nods solemnly, his face entirely serious. For a moment anyway.
"Yeah, yer right." Justin murmurs.
"Alright. You wouldn't have called me without having started looking yourself." Justin says while casually pocketing the sense crystal.
"What DO you have? Where was her last known location? That can be verified?" Justin asks Ral, all business now. He puts on his 'serious-investigator-face' and everything.
Ral sighs
“I’ve asked around the usual places. The uppers aren’t happy with movers who go off investigating things on their own. There’s a way we do things, and going off on your own isn’t it. So, I haven’t gotten to commit resources to the search. I do know she was making inquiries in Deadtown. There’s a rumor of a new vamp nest making issues there, and Murph was going to find out how much was true. That’s about all I know. That and a name: The Scarlet Circle. “
Justin nods.
"Deadtown. New vamp nest. and 'The Scarlet Circle'." Justin echoes softly, the same way most people would when writing down something they wanted to remember.
"Better than nothing. Beats having to search all of Sigil for a clue." Justin adds wryly, giving Ral a grim half-smile.
"I'll ask around. See if I can find out anything. I mean, at the very least, an inquisitive, strawberry-blonde not to mention cute halfling in Deadtown should have made an impression on SOMEone."
"And hey, people like me! Well,... MOST people. OK, ok, At least they're more likely to talk to me than a red suit." Justin admits, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder at the diminutive red-enameled armor on the stand in the corner.
Justin takes one look around Murph's small office space. He'd visited her here before. Without the vivacious, energetic Murphy in it, it was just a room. Even the obvious, positive, halfling-ness of the chamber couldn't erase the fact it had obviously been empty for a few days now.
Yeah,... it just wasn't right.
"We'll get Murph back." Justin muttered softly.
He wasn't sure if he was trying to convince Ral, or himself,...
Ral looks as if he’s given everything he’s going to. He looks out at some sudden voices
“Time to go Case. If you don’t mind, I’m going to perp walk you out of here. Just in case”
Ral smiles a tusky grin at the pun
The pair walk out, Ral firmly holding Justin’s arm and shoulder and marching him along the corridors. He brings him out of the office area and releases him
“Right, let me know if you hear anything “
Justin rolls his eyes.
"You should leave the puns to the professionals. Yer gonna hurt yerself." The wizard replies dryly. But he cant hide his small smirk.
He presents his arm to the burly Ral, and after only a moment of actual discomfort, he marches along the hallway with an unhappy look on his face that matches the rest of the persons being 'escorted' down the hall.
The pair walk out, Ral firmly holding Justin’s arm and shoulder and marching him along the corridors. He brings him out of the office area and releases him
“Right, let me know if you hear anything “
Justin nods in reply, and escorts himself outside.
Justin changes the bow tying back half his unruly hair into a wide-brimmed hat as he steps out from under the bulk of the Harmonium building. He looks around, does some quick thinking.
Justin's mind went through a few ideas as he stood on the edge of the City Barrack's narrow porch, but he was too tired to get overly creative. Yet.
Besides, most of these types of scenarios really only had two general approaches.
You could go in, (preferably with brawny backup if you were a tall, skinny wizard-type), make a lot of noise, and try to intimidate people into telling you what you wanted to know. (Definitely easier with the brawny-back-up.)
Or, you could go in quietly, and politely, and ask the right people for the answers to your questions.
And, of course, there was no rule against going back to option #1 if option #2 didn't provide the answers you wanted.
In this particular case, Murph had already been missing for a few Peaks. So she was either operating deep 'undercover' as they called it, and she couldn't let others know where she was or that she was OK, or she was in trouble. IF she was in trouble, she probably didn't have a lot of time left before things went from bad to worse.
Ral hadn't SAID anything of course. But he knew that too. Which was why he had summoned Justin so curtly. The wizard had never been so glad to get a call to the City Jail in his life.
So, what to do? Well, he was heading to Deadtown. So-called because it was a section of Under-Sigil occupied almost entirely by 'Those formerly known as living'. And intimidating the undead is notoriously difficult. Even intelligent undead who retained a semblance of life and the desire to continue it.
OF course, he DID have a friend who was perfect for just such situations. (Besides Karrin, of course.) Martin. A genuine, actual paladin-type from a prime world similar to Justin's own. If he so desired, he could 'intimidate' the undead right into the afterlife they were so intent on avoiding. And he would do it too. If he wasn't already busy with his own Powers' business. And maybe even if he was. Martin would drop what he was doing and go help you out if he felt he could. He was just that nice of a guy.
Buuut, Justin felt that approach might cause more problems than it solved. I mean kidnapping, even it it WAS a bad-@$$ harmonium currently out of uniform, was just another day in Sigil. But mass-'intimidating' and potentially collapsing half of Deadtown was another thing entirely. The kind of thing that brought the Lady's attention. Justin shuddered. Yep. No. Not if he could avoid it.
That brought Justin back to Option #1.
Fortunately, he also had the perfect person in mind for asking questions and getting information. Especially about Deadtown.
It was time for Justin to pay a visit to his brother.
Well, half-brother actually.
Justin Case, Wizard, needed to talk to Thomas Saunders. Vampire.
Justin sighed.
His spell of flying would only last for a little under under quarter of a standard hourglass. Probably long enough to get where he needed if he hustled. But not guaranteed. And while Goldenwings time for each use was measured in hours, the figurine itself was limited to 2 times in a week. And he had just used one of those to get to the City Jail's monumental edifice.
Justin shook his head. He didn't know what he was getting himself into. Yet. So he would err on the side of caution and reserve both Goldenwing and his teleport spell for the event of a hasty retreat.
Justin changed his hat back into a hair ribbon, and tucked his lengthening hair back under the hood of his coat. He cast his infinitely useful Prestidigitation charm and gave his coat and boots a little additional waterproofing for the dingy after-peak Sigil rain. Time to start walking.
While his long legs started eating up distance, Justin thought about how he was going to go about this meeting. Not because Thomas would be unhappy to see him, just the opposite in fact. Since the time that Justin and Thomas had discovered each others existence, they had both welcomed the brother they hadn't known they had with open arms.
But the rest of Thomas' family situation was,... complicated.
Thomas was a vampire. Technically. But he was what Justin called a 'Daywalker'. What some worlds called a Dhampir. They share some of the typical vampires' weaknesses, (like Holy Symbols.) But not all, (Sunlight didn't phase them at all it seemed.) Thomas' family were a breed of Vampire that feed on life energy instead of blood. They drained the life energy of a victim through close physical contact, Usually (but not necessarily) sexual, by eliciting strong emotions in their victims. Like lust. They had an easier time hiding their feedings, since they didn't leave physical marks like the more common, blood-sucking varieties. But they could drain you and leave you with a bad case of being dead all the same. They just made you feel good while doing it.
Thomas' Family weren't as physically strong or terrifying as their more blood-thirsty cousins. (Although they could burn their stolen energy and make themselves nearly as strong as a 'normal' vampire for short amounts of time.) So they tended to avoid straight-up, or at least 'fair' fights. Instead they were the masters of charming, spying, information, misdirection, manipulation, and outright deception. In other words, if anyone had any leads on what happened to Murphy, or knew exactly where the fearless halfling was, it would be Thomas. Or at least his family, The 'White Vampires'.
And THAT was where things started getting complicated.
Thomas would probably help Justin out without hesitation. Heck he had even met and liked Murphy. (Considering their differences, that was saying something.) But Thomas' family was essentially a crime syndicate. (Yes. They had crossed paths a time or three with Marconi's operations. And if it wasn't for his half-brother Justin would gladly kick back, eat popped corn, and watch the two groups tear each other apart.) And Thomas was 'on the outs' with them at the moment. He was trying to keep in their good graces, (Justin supposed that Thomas DID need a support system for his 'condition'.) and that meant NOT interacting directly with those who had interfered with the Family's previous operations.
Yes, Justin has a bad habit of getting involved before he knows ENTIRELY whats going on. They'll get over it. Eventually. Hopefully before Justin gets killed. Oh well.
Fortunately Justin didn't have to go to the Family's main home, or any of their bases of operation. Thomas was currently making his own way in Sigil. He had set himself up with his own successful business as,... a hair stylist.
Apparently it was working for him. The last time Justin checked, Thomas business was booming. Apparently having your hair styled by a vampire who made you feel good while lightly snacking on your life force guaranteed repeat business. Income for the shop, and a guaranteed supply of food for the hungry vampire. Thomas wasn't big on killing. Just living.
But it was too late tonight, Thomas would have closed up the shop long before now. That meant he was either out on the town, or back at his 'home'. An apartment in a swanky part of Sigil that Justin could rarely afford to venture.
It was toward the apartment that Justin's feet were headed while he reminisced.
Before seeing Justin off, Ral hands him a small Harmonium symbol. It’s striped red, rather than full red, like Ral’s cloak pin
“If you get into any difficulties with any of my faction, this is our ally badge. Don’t go flashing it about, or I will come and take it away. But, it should keep any street level movers off your back”
The rainy night chills Justin as he slogs through the Court District. The Fraternity of Order has wrapped up its judgements for the peak, and a bevy of old black-robed cutters in elaborate wigs seek the shelter of the various nearby taverns or their dwellings down in Greytowers. Harmonium walk through streets, peery eyed for anyone who looks like a knight of the post.
Moving through the Nobles’ District, Justin blends into the swirling crowd of Before Antipeak pedestrians. The crowd is wealthy, and there are carriages and palanquins of all shapes and sizes along the wide thoroughfare of Razorvine on Hiddleston. Justin admires a particularly ornate magic shop window, lined with expensive paraphernalia of the craft. The tagged prices make him shudder, though.
Thomas lived off of Vine, as the locals called the main road. A small road called Roe Court. Thomas has once mentioned that there has been a caviar shop there long ago, and the name stuck. For the Nobles’ District, it was a pretty low-rent area. Better by orders of magnitude from the Hive, or Justin’s own kip, but far from the huge sprawling mansions that Hanali’s folk called home. Thomas’ apartment was a cheery white-stone four story affair. Thomas rented the entire penthouse floor. The building even sported a doorman, a sour beefy cutter named Chert. Chert had the look of an old warrior of the barbaric stripe, and still styled himself in the leathers and furs of his long-forsaken homeland. An axe was strapped to his broad back, and his wrinkled broad face was framed by lanky long grey hair, with a substantial acreage of its top now missing. Chert grunts and nods at Justin, recognizing the lanky wizard.
“He’s off. Probably at the Golden Stag”
Justin knows that tavern. Pricy, and a hangout for the type of cutters that wish to see and be seen.
Namers
Notary 1 = Private
Notary 2 = PFC
Notary 3 = Corporal
Notary 4 = Sergeant
Notary 5 = Platoon Sergeant
Factotums
Measure 1 = 2nd Lieutenant or Master Sergeant (for those who didn't attend OCS at Melodia and advanced later in life)
Measure 2 = 1st Lieutenant/ Sergeant Major
Measure 3 = Captain
Measure 4 = Major
Measure 5 = Lt Colonel
Namers
Notary 1 = Private
Notary 2 = PFC
Notary 3 = Corporal
Notary 4 = Sergeant
Notary 5 = Platoon SergeantFactotums
Measure 1 = 2nd Lieutenant or Master Sergeant (for those who didn't attend OCS at Melodia and advanced later in life)
Measure 2 = 1st Lieutenant/ Sergeant Major
Measure 3 = Captain
Measure 4 = Major
Measure 5 = Lt Colonel
Cool! Thx. :)
Before seeing Justin off, Ral hands him a small Harmonium symbol. It’s striped red, rather than full red, like Ral’s cloak pin
“If you get into any difficulties with any of my faction, this is our ally badge. Don’t go flashing it about, or I will come and take it away. But, it should keep any street level movers off your back”
"Gotcha. No showing off. Emergency use only. Or I get my toys taken away." Justin salutes Ral with the pin before making it 'vanish' (into a pocket of his vest).
,...
Chert grunts and nods at Justin, recognizing the lanky wizard.
“He’s off. Probably at the Golden Stag”
Justin knows that tavern. Pricy, and a hangout for the type of cutters that wish to see and be seen.
Justin tugs at the edge of his dripping hood.
"Thanks kindly Chert. How's the kids? That daughter of yours clamoring for her own axe yet?" Justin asks in a friendly voice, loud enough to carry normally.
The last time Justin spoke to Chert about his kids, his daughter was like, 3 years old? Give or take. Justin sometimes loses track of time.
Justin offers offers the burly doorman a handshake, with a glint in the palm. (Not one of the antique gold coins. Sadly, Justin has gone through all of those, and almost everything else, to fund his 'Enchantment Binge' as Memnon is calling it. But he has enough left to tip the doorman a couple of silvers, erm, 'stingers'.)
As Chert engulfs Justin's bony hand in his meaty one, (expertly claiming the palmed coins in the process. Chert is a Professional doorman.) Justin murmurs just loud enough for the barbarian doorkeeper to hear.
"If you see him before I do, tell him I'm looking for him please?"
At Chert's sudden narrowing of the eyes, Justin smiles.
"No trouble, Just looking to chat." Justin murmurs, stepping back.
"Ah, That's a shame." Justin says aloud. "I was really hoping I could talk him into doing my girlfriend's hair on short notice. YOU know how he books up WAY in advance. Ah well. Not an emergency."
"Thanks anyway. Stay dry big guy!" Justin tosses a casual wave over his shoulder as he resettles his hood and braves his way into 'weather' and foot traffic.
'The Golden Stag. Darnit. Why can't Thomas hang out somewhere NORMAL hard-working wizards can afford? Like the public library? And I'm about outta 'chump change'. Ah well, I just need to ask him a question. In a crowded establishment of well-to-do social butterflies. What could go wrong?'
Justin stopped. Bit his bottom lip, and had to exert EVERY once of willpower remaining in his weary body not to facepalm himself. He'd already tempted fate by merely THINKING the statement. To bring further attention to it was sheer folly.
Justin stepped forward again, quickly, and turned his heels towards the Golden Stag. One way or another, he needed five minutes of the hourglass with Thomas.
Chert nods and pockets the silver coins.
“Enclava takes after her mum. She’ll be a sorceress likely. She made the cat’s hair fall out t’other day”
Chert stretches. Justin hears the snap and crackle of his back vertebrae like Blayze was target practicing nearby
“I’ll let Thomas know you were here”
Justin rejoins the glow of glittering cutters on the Vine. The street is lit with continual light globes, and their steady magical glow keeps the shadows that dominate most of Sigil’s streets at bay. Dabus are common in this quarter, fixing, pruning, shining. The Lady’s Ward is favored by her minions, and they keep the entropy at bay. Even the puddles are smaller, as frequent drains sluice the rainwater away with efficiency. Any blockages are soon unclogged by one of the odd floating creatures , their heads surrounded by the colorful pictographs they communicate with.
The Golden Stag is a large tavern directly on the Vine, but as usual, there is a line to get in. Well-dressed glitterati preen and primp under the wide awning that shades them from the rain. A Hadozee bouncer with two tough-looking humanoid assistants regulates the flow of incoming guests
Justin walks over to the awning, to escape the fog and rain more than any particular purpose. The rich folk near him give his shabby ensemble the side eye, but say nothing. Justin hangs at the edge of the line, observing the patrons. They seem heavy on the Aasimar side, but there are a few tieflings in the mix. Gems and gold hang from their necks , ears, and wrists in a sparkling display of wealth.
Justin starts as an actual honest-to-Zeus beholder floats by, its eyestalks covered in ringlets. It zips to the front of the line, with an entourage of burly toughs and scantily-dressed women in its wake. The bouncers let it and its party in immediately
Justin starts and stares unashamedly as the beholder floats by, bold-as-you-please and is immediately escorted inside. Justin's eyebrows both raise at he amount of bling the big bloated ball had been wearing. (Pretty impressive. He almost hadn't noticed the scantily-clad women following in it's wake. Almost.)
'Oh,... SO THAT'S how it's gonna be tonight, is it?'
Justin muses as he takes another look at the beings being allowed in vs the ones still standing in the dingy rain waiting their turn.
'OKAAAAAYYYY,.... time to put some of the new toys to the test!' Justin gives a small smile, totally out of place for a bedraggled wizard standing in dingy rain. He steps quickly to the side of the building and down the alley just far enough to be out of sight from the front.
'OK. So who do I want to be? Important VIP all in myself? Naw, I'd have to go overboard and would probably blow the whole act. VIP to somebody else? Yep. That's my story.'
Justin shakes his arms to get rid of some more water. Then uses a fresh application of his simple prestidigitation charm to quickly dry off and re-water-proof. Then activates his newly enchanted items.
First Justin activates his magical cap, (currently a hair ribbon tying back half of his unruly mane.) He activates its full potential, and changes his appearance from a bedraggled human with an after-peak shadow to a clean-shaven Air Gensai with a head of spikey hair with different colored tips. The hair is now kept out of his eyes by a gem-studded hair clip.
(Justin WAS going to go with an Aasimar, but the image of Skyy with her distinctive blue skin and chaotic-rainbow-tipped hair was just too strong in his mind.) The only change he made to his normal features was to make sure he was clean-shaven, and made his lean physique look more 'deliberately toned' and less 'starving caster'.
Then he activated the bands of cloth tied around his upper arms. The black silk ribbons were virtually invisible next to the black leather coat. But their simple magics were not to be underestimated. At least not in 'High Society' where looks were king.
In a shimmer of rippling fabric, Justin transformed his clothing. The high-quality Cager's Cloak he kept, just adding a dash of color. (JUST enough to be almost obnoxiously ostentatious.) His standard heavy pants, shirt and vest were replaced with tight leather pants and a silk-like shirt, unbuttoned just enough to show the top of his pectorals, and a vest that was a shimmering riot of colors. (The ensemble was very close to what Thomas usually wore out when partying.) As an after thought he added a thread of silver thread running in arcane patterns around the edges of the vest that matched his blue suede mithral-embossed casters gloves. He tugged the gloves on to complete the audaciously obnoxious ensemble, ran one more quick check to make sure there were no remaining traces left of his slogging through the streets for the last half-hour, and squared his shoulders.
"Showtime!" He hissed with a big grin.
Justin pulls off his transformation and rejoins the line. It moves slowly , but surely until he faces the flying monkey bouncer. Monkey might be a bit of a misnomer. Although lean and lanky, the Hadozee tips seven feet, its furry arm flaps making it look more impressive, especially as they are dyed in a weird rainbow pattern. He looks Justin over and grunts
“I ain’t seen yer phiz ‘afore blueboy. What’s yer name?”
'Huh. So THAT'S a Dherinii. Dhenrii? Whatever she used to call them.'
Justin minced forward, doing his best imitation of a preening peacock and self-important @$$hole. (He'd seen enough of both in the academy, it wasn't hard to do.) He placed his fingertips lightly on his bare chest.
"Moi?!? I'M Jacen. Certainly 'Toe-maas' told you to expect me?" Justin drawled slowly in an undetermined accent. He heavily accented Thomas's name as well, drawing it out like he had overheard some of his half-brothers breathless clients doing when they talked about him.
"Ah! I WOULD have arrived WITH him of course, but mother inSISted that I allow Versuvius to do the teleport. He USED to be top-notch of course, else mother wouldn't keep him, but he's so OLD now that he can't see where he left the Rothchilde in the cellar, HOW is he supposed to get ME where I'm going?!" 'Jacen' breathlessly pouted, waving his gloved hands dramatically for emphasis.
"I DO hope that Toe-maas isn't TOO upset. We have a WONderful evening planned with the Skyylar twins." 'Jacen' waggles his eyebrows suggestively.
"But it just WON'T be the same if Toe-maas isn't in a good mood!" he finishes up with a pout. (Copied from Skyy when she is trying to influence him, without the cursing.)
The monkey bouncer frowns
“Thomas Saunders?”
'Jacen' rolls his eyes.
"Of COURSE 'Toe-Mass Saundoors'. Do you know any OTHER devilishly delightful lady-killers with a penchant for a good party? Because if you do, I'D like to meet them!"
The bouncer snorts
“Well, he’s holding court inside. That’ll be 10 Ladies “
'Jacen' blinks.
Justin's mind hits 'panic mode',
'Crud. Do I even HAVE 10 ladies?!?'
"Of course! Silly me. Where DID I put those?"
;)
'Jacen' smiles. "Of COURSE Dahling. Uno momento."
'Jacen' pulls out his belt-purse.
'Jacen raises an eyebrow.
'Jacen' looks at the small bag and jingles it.
The resulting sound is not encouraging.
'Jacen' looks at the poor, deflated purse as if it has betrayed him.
"AND of course Varsuvius gave me the wrong PURSE. This had better not be one he uses to tip the delivery boys."
'Jacen' proceeds to dole out the requisite 10 ladies. Slowly.
In Stingers and Greens.
"Varsuvius will hear about this when I get home. TRUST me." 'Jacen' says coldly.
"There will be the ABYSS to pay!"
The blue-skinned partyer-wannbe shrugs.
"OK. Maybe not the LAST level of the Abyss. But somewhere in the 300's, COUNT on it!"
'Jacen' turns and sashays into the club, all righteous indignation and eager anticipation.
The tall flying monkey stares at the pile of greenish clipped coins and then back at ‘Jacen’.
“Enjoy your evening “ He says neutrally
Justin gets the feeling he’s not the first cutter to be broke yet dressed like a dragon hoard.
Inside the tavern is chaos. Justin is used to the friendlier pub-style tavern atmosphere of the Copper Cauldron. This place is jam packed with richly-dressed beautiful Cager folks.
The center of the large tavern is a dance floor. An ensemble of Xaositect musicians play some sort of ghastly atonal music that is somehow magically amplified to ear-painful levels. There is a roped off VIP area towards the back across the large crowded dance floor. Justin sees his brother there, with several of his friends.
Justin knows a couple of them. Miles of Greenshire is a ‘collector’ who specializes in esoteric magic items. His shop the Incantabula, was near Thomas’ hair salon. Daria Goodbirch looks like a fresh-faced Aasimar milkmaid, but was known to be one of the elite mercenaries in Sigil. Rumor had it she was a disgraced Valkyrie. Thomas and her had dated on and off. Then there was Blort Genishfelder.
Justin didn’t enjoy Blort’s company, but had sadly spent a few of his antipeaks with him while visiting Thomas. Blort’s father is a self-made Cager, coming out of the worst neighborhood of the Hive to become a factol in the Takers. He owns a dozen businesses and keeps a mansion in the Nobles District. Blort is a tiefling, and has the personality of an unpainted board. Whatever fiendish ancestor had graced his family tree had not been a pretty one. Blort was corpulent and his skin always looked like it was sprouting mold, no matter how much makeup he slathered on. Still, his money kept Thomas’ lifestyle from bankrupting him (even top-tier hairdressing wasn’t THAT lucrative).
There are several others that Justin doesn’t recognize, but that’s normal - Thomas’ entourage changed composition almost daily. Justin’s eye is drawn to one cutter: a man with marble-white skin (not just pale - but LITERALLY white like milk), glowing golden eyes, long red nails, and bird claws for feet. His fire-red hair is teased in a elaborate coif (likely Thomas’ work), and a set of wings that look like they are pinioned with fire-red feathers as well lay folded at his back.
The VIP area is guarded by another pair of large humanoids, dressed incongruously in rich tunics, but with large swords strapped to their backs.
Justin tries not to wince too much at the noise, (Sorry, 'Music'), that fills the crowded tavern.
"Oi, Thomas. To each their own I guess. Give ME the Copper Cauldron ANY day." Justin murmurs to himself. (He might as well have shouted, no one could possibly hear him over the din of screaming 'conversations' and that painful excuse for 'music'.)
He drifts to a corner and tries to avoid getting too jostled while he gets his bearings. And looks for Thomas.
It really didn't take that long. It took longer for him to identify the 'party group' hanging out with Thomas this evening.
Huh. About half of the primary hangers-on he recognized. Pretty much as usual. And of that half, about half he liked, and the other half was in the strong 'UGH/NO' category. ALSO pretty much as usual.
Justin eyed the well-dressed bouncers guarding the roped off entrance to the VIP area.
'Oi. Again. Guards. WHY is it ALWAYS guards? And WHY the over-sized swords? In a DANCE club?!?! Really? They're desperately over-compensating for something.'
Justin eyes the guards, not really trusting in his usual, dumb, luck to bluff his way past bouncers TWICE in such a short period of time. All he needed was to get Thomas's attention, withOUT getting the attention of Blort first. (As best he could tell, Blort didn't actively DIS-Like him, but he did 'not-like' him enough to make sure he didn't get into the VIP area if he thought it might be amusing.) Maybe he should try to get Miles or Daria to let him in? Possible, but with his current disguise maybe harder than usual...
What he really wanted was a quick, sure-fire reason that he needed to be in the VIP area, that even the most hardened bouncer wouldn't question. Much.
Justin grinned. Sometimes he really WAS almost as clever as he thought he was. He stepped from the relative safety of his corner, and weaved his way through the throng towards the bar.
His hips swaying unintentionally with the rhythm of the beat, and the crowd, Justin eyes the workers behind the bar, seeing if there was anyone he knew (for good or ill) and if any were obviously new. (He figured on a night like this, they would be the ones looking the most harried.)
Justin can see several servers he thought he remembered from the few times he had visited with Thomas. One pretty barmaid he remembered well, Miranda. She was an elf, but a desert elf, with long curly black hair and a delightfully caramel skin color. Her purple almond-shaped eyes had really set her apart. Justin had idly flirted with her once, and she had gone along with it. Although, with servers it was always hard to tell where professionalism and personal intersected. They were paid to be friendly after all. Justin saw her weaving her way through the crowd, the expensive dress the Golden Stag used as a uniform hugging her athletic body.
A second one was a whip thin brown-haired bar back named Raff. Raff was a Cager, born and bred. He had once helped Justin with a situation where he needed to talk to some Hivers before his Silver Rose days. Raff looked human, but he had a drop of something else. The locals usually called it ‘planeskissed’ when the lineage was so far in the past it was hard to tell what plane it came from.
As for newcomers, the only obvious one was a very young woman trying to navigate the crowd. She might as well have ‘Clueless’ stamped on her forehead. She kept gawking at any customer off the human/elf/dwarf baseline. She was very beautiful, and the owners must have thought she had potential. She was human, with red-gold hair and green eyes
Justin considered his options, and just how much trouble he wanted to get into, or get others into,...
Miranda was a sweetheart, as best he could tell. But even if she DID like him and hadn't just been playing friendly for tips, he didn't know her well enough. Besides she probably wouldn't recognize him at the moment.
Justin drug his eyes from Miranda's attractive and golden-covered back as it weaved through the throng, and they couldn't help but notice the obviously new girl. SHE was beautiful. With a Capitol "B". But so obviously, painfully new to this life, and probably Sigil in general, that she made Justin look like a native. He could probably trick her into helping him. but THEN he'd feel bad. And the last thing he needed, (especially at THIS point in his life, and when this tired) was another attack of conscience.
But maybe, he looked quickly from the new girl to where he had last seen Raff. Yeah, THAT might work. And instead of feeling guilty, he could do a good deed too. He smiled as he wormed his way through the crowd to get to Raff.
By this point, the music was a dull ache in the background of his mind. And his ears. But his body had started to pick up on the rhythms of the beat and the crowd. He drew near to Raff, waited until the bar back had unloaded his current tray of its drink deliveries, and then tapped him on the shoulder to get his attention. When Raff turned to see who it was, Justin leaned in, and spoke in a dull roar, just loud enough to be heard.
"Hey Raff. What's a clueless Berk gotta do to get a Cagers attention around here?" He grinned.
At Raff's blank stare, Justin uses his magic hat to change his skin and face back into its normal appearance. His 'Party Clothes' he keeps in place.
"It's Just me. Justin. Busy night?" he asks pleasantly.
Raff laughs at Justin’s reveal
“You playing at dazzles, berk? Why you trying to look like one of the poshes?”
He shifts the tub of empty glasses he’s lugging
“‘Course it’s a busy Antipeak. It always is. Get to the point, I’m not after losing me job if they catch me lollygagging. I ain’t one of the bints, they let them talk to the berks “
He looks about apprehensively
Justin nods, understanding Raff's nervousness. Decent jobs weren't easy to come by in Sigil.
"I'm just trying out some new enchanted toys I made. Figured HERE was a good place to try them out. I was going to surprise Thomas, but I don't want to make a scene before I get to him." Justin explains swiftly, chucking a thumb at the VIP area and its beefy bouncers.
"I just need a little help to get past Yin and Yang there. At NO risk to you or anyone else. In fact, I can make it worth your while. Um, You guys do tip-sharing, right?"
"The new girl, the cute, clueless one with the red-gold hair. What's her name?" Justin asks, pointing her out in the crowd to Raff.
Justin swiftly lays out his request to Raff. It IS simple. SO simple that it either has no chance of failing, or no chance of working. It depends entirely on if your a glass-half-full or a glass-half-empty kind of guy.
(Justin prides himself on being a 'realist'. An Optimist looks at a glass and says "It is half full!" The Pessimist looks at the glass and says "It is half empty!" Justin looks at the glass and says, "Hey! Who drank half my beer?!?")
Justin just needs Raff to convince the new girl that 'Jacen' was sent from the VIP area to get another round of drinks. (Rather than relying on Justin's random bluff skills for the convincing) For Everyone in the VIP area. On Blort's tab of course. Yes he knows that the VIP area has its own servers, but Thomas spotted her in the crowd and specifically requested that she bring them. Knowing that it will be too much for one girl to carry, 'Jacen' will help her carry the drinks in.
"Oh, yeah, and make sure to add a nice tip for her, and you. Blort's good for it." Justin adds with a wicked grin.
"Whattya say?"
Raff frowns
“She’s named Alaina. Comes from some prime backwater named Diahnect or summat like that”
He looks over Justin appraisingly
“Look, berk, I can get her to deliver drinks for yeh, but why in the Lady’s name are you making this so difficult? Just go up to the guards with your own phiz showing and ask to talk to Thomas. He’s yer brother, right? Why you gotta involve all this mucking about?”
Justin looks at Raff as if he's grown a second head.
"But,... But,... Where's the fun in THAT?!?"
At the look on Raff's face, Justin rubs the back of his neck, an embarrassed smirk on his face. He lets out a sigh.
"Yeah. I probably am making it a LITTLE more complicated than it has to be. Occupational hazard of the group I've been working with. You see enough weird c@#$ from other Planes, and EVERYthing starts to look like an obstacle. Or an enemy combatant." He explains wryly.
Then Justin grins again.
"Besides, if they DO decide to be difficult, THEN I can always go back to 'Overly-Complicated Plan A'!" He laughs.
"Thanks for keeping me honest Raff. Have a good Anti-Peak!" He tosses the barback a wave as he re-enters the crowd. (He really doesn't want to get the guy in trouble with his boss.)
Justin adjusts his enchanted items one more time, leaving his party-outfit in place, (and his slightly-buffer physique), but returns his own face. With a neatly-trimmed goatee, and his unruly hair in a nice, neat ponytail. (Can't be seen not freshly coiffed in a place like THIS. Thomas would never live it down.)
His eardrums having been beaten into submission by now, Justin weaves through the crowd with all the grace of a drunk ballerina. But managing more or less to 'go with the flow' as they say. (Whomever 'THEY' are?!?)
Justin finally weaves his way to the VIP entrance, and then heads towards the bouncers, his intent to enter the VIP ropes obvious.