DM Note: The impressive-sounding Stone of Darkness is, er, a stone, with Darkness cast on it, then kept in a Bag of Holding until required..Gorfang and Eloy planned into the night, examining and discarding various angles of approach before concluding that, as ever, the simple approach was probably the best. Armed with a variety of spells, they headed off towards the Barracks.
They watched the massive fortress from a cafe across the square, tracking the movement of the guards. At the place they'd chosen, a strange T-Shaped buttress jutted out from the main wall, sloping slightly up and out to a wide walkway fifty feet above the cobbles. A single guard patrolled the end walkway, and it was here that the pair planned to make their way in.
| DM Note: The impressive-sounding Stone of Darkness is, er, a stone, with Darkness cast on it, then kept in a Bag of Holding until required.. |
After dark, the square emptied, and the cafe owner began to brush ostentatiously around their table. When he went to empty his bucket, Eloy began casting spells. First of all he checked his Stone of Darkness, before slipping it back into his Bag of Holding. Then he cast Protection from Law, Spider Climb, Improved Invisibility and - last of course - Silence. When the cafe owner returned, his table was empty.
Walking quickly across the darkened square to the buttress, the two rounded the end and started their climb in one of the inner corners. Despite being invisible, they wanted to take no chances with being spotted. With Spider Climb, the scaling of the wall was simplicity itself, and they were soon high above the streets of Sigil. Despite the lack of any immediate danger, an ominous feeling grew stronger and stronger as they continued to climb.
Reaching the parapet, Eloy moved ahead of Gorfang and cautiously peered over. As they'd judged from below, a single red-armoured guard was tramping slowly back and forth along the battlemented walkway. Eloy waited carefully for his moment, then vaulted down to the paving, ran lightly across to come up behind the guard, picked his spot and slashed neatly just under the neckplate of the man's helmet with the Murderblade. The silvery edge cut cleanly through the spinal cord and the Harmonium guard dropped bonelessly. Well within the 15' radius of the Silencespell, his armoured form made no sound at all as it struck the stone flags. Eloy slid it across so it lay against the inner wall, hopefully less obvious from the main wall above, as Gorfang climbed onto the wall-top and eyed the door at the far end of the buttress.
Originally, they'd planned to go in through the postern door which gave access to the buttress, but after the success of the first climb, they revised their thinking. Climbing straight over was going to leave far less of a trail than breaking in through a door. So they spidered onto the main wall and scaled the remaining fifty feet to the top, slipped between the patrolling guards, and swarmed down the inner face to the bailey beyond.
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The whole inside of the fortress was lit by glowing globes on pillars, presumably treated with Light spells, giving them a clear view of the place. Wide paved paths led between the various buildings and to the gates into the outer bastions, with large grassed areas between them. Blocky structures of a clearly military nature occupied most of the space, with a huge parade ground and training yard ahead and to his left. The great walls loomed over the yard on every side, closing and constricting.Looking around, Gorfang quickly identified the officers' mess from the plans he'd studied, and was just about to head across to it when a thought struck him. He looked down, to see a little sign standing upright at the edge of the path; "Keep Off The Grass". It occurred to him that in an organization as fixated on rules and obedience as the Harmonium, people were going to take this seriously. The grass looked soft and well-kept, and his very considerable mass would leave strikingly obvious footprints in it. He turned and followed the path instead.
The mess building had lights in the windows, and shadows crossed them regularly. Voices, laughter and the sounds of plate and glass could be heard faintly coming from within. The entrance was closed by a pair of swinging doors, which presented a problem; if those opened with nobody visible, it was going to cause comment. The answer was to tailgate a customer in, and it didn't take long before a suitable officer arrived. Eloy went first, right on the man's heels, while Gorfang waited for the doors to swing back before slipping between them.
The room beyond was brightly lit and busy. Their Silence spell had already ended, but there was more than enough noise to cover any sounds they might make. According to the plans, the trapdoor leading into the cellar was behind the bar, so they slipped between the tables and across to the bar. Behind it, the two bar-staff - Lunge and Gillis - were working, serving customers; at one end was a flap-and-door giving access to the serving area.
Eloy crouched down and crawled under the top flap, but hidden at the far side was a stack of empty bottles, into which he bumped. They went over with a slither, clattering across the floor until several broke with a loud crash. As quiet laughter and a little ironic applause drifted in from the eating tables, Eloy backed hastily out and stood up.
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At that moment there was a very loud bang behind them. Despite their first instincts, both resisted the urge to leap round and draw weapons, and a glance at the customers' complete lack of reaction confirmed their response. The sound was just the waiter coming through the doors from the kitchen at speed with plates of food... Once their heart-rates had steadied, they turned back to the bar.The pretty blonde Gillis had fetched a broom and, grumbling, was clearing up the glass, while gaunt, inhuman Lunge was still serving drinks at the other end. When the barmaid went off to empty her bucket, she left the bar-flap open, and the intruders were able to slip inside with ease. Picking a moment when Lunge was serving at the far end, they lifted the trapdoor and slipped down the steps beneath.
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The cellar was dim, lit only by occasional candles, but they could see great hogsheads of ale lined up against the vaulted walls at the back, with racks of wines and spirits nearer to the door. Their information indicated that the portal they sought was in the arch of the vaulted back wall between two of the barrels. Cautiously, the pair approached it with the key Cherwell had sold them, and sure enough the archway began to glow - it was a portal all right.
"Hah!" crowed Gorfang. "Let's leave them a message!" It turned out neither had ink or paint, so Eloy cut his arm to provide Gorfang with blood to write his message. On the wall in the wrong archway, he daubed the words, I told you there was a portal here! Gorfang Deathdrinker the Clueless.
| DM Note: See here for Nutty Dark!. |
Before going through, they investigated the barrels and racks, loading up with a couple of bottles of the good stuff and a small firkin of the best of the ale. Nutty Dark it was called, and it made Gorfang nod in thoughtful appreciation. They then piddled in all the barrels with great amusement, before squaring their shoulders and stepping up to the portal. Reflecting on what Amonenhat had told them - that the inhabitants of the City Forever were 'dysfunctional', the orc chuckled. "No-one's going to notice us there," he said reassuringly, "We should fit right in."
The portal flared and they were gone from the City of Doors.
Under a roiling sky threaded with surreal streaks of dark cloud, the City Forever spread in an arc around the central chasm leading to the Edge. The architecture was magnificent, clearly conceived by beings of greater than human skill and aesthetics, the layout at once bold, spacious and elegant. And the whole place was neglected, decaying, dingy and disordered. Dirt and damage marred the buildings, debris and filth heaped at street corners, and slumped, furtive or guilty-looking figures moved through the grand streets. Grey rain fell almost constantly, cold and penetrating. The air was charged with a strange tension and sickly urgency.
Dominating all else was the incredible vista 'in front' of the city. In that direction lay the Positive Energy Plane, wellspring of all goodness and life, the essential power of Creation. Close to the edge was a vast nebular ball of glowing orange cloud streaked with flame - the Gates of Life, from which the Mystery of the Seeds of Life emerged, to fall back into the Positive Energy Plane unless harvested. That harvesting was done by the denizens of the City Forever riding strange flying ships called flickerwings.
The Four Kings of the pyramid had given Gorfang a contact here; a lesser celestial in the service of Lylix, one Straff, could be persuaded to help. Being an angel of a goddess of wanton, abandoned nookie doesn't make for a terribly reliable personality in the first place, and Straff had been here for several hundred years. Normally, he'd have been replaced long since, but somehow, Cherwell had managed to pull strings somewhere to keep him in place, and in return Straff operated a black-market trade in lesser Seeds. What Cherwell did with them was unknown but it was a good bet it was very profitable.
Heading off into the city, the two struck out pretty much at random, walking through the streets until they encountered a tall, muscular figure with silver skin, imposing white wings and a long white robe. By celestial classification it was a deva, a higher form of celestial, but by Gorfang's standards it was spectacularly drunk - or the equivalent - and bedraggled, moulting wings dragging in the dirt, white robes torn and smirched, shaven silvery head wagging in disorientation. Eloy stoppped it. "Have you ever heard of Straff?" he asked. The tall being staggered around to look at him, blinking blearily. "Wha- who said that?" it slurred. "Straff," repeated Eloy, "works for Lylix." Light dawned in its' eyes. "Oh, Straff!" it said, "yesss.... " it gave them directions and stumbled off.
Shaking their heads, the two followed the directions to an even more down-at-heel district of the city. Straff's dwelling was a tiny hovel enclosed by chunks of rubbish in one corner of a once-imposing public building. When they entered its' single room, a short, humanoid figure could be seen, huddled at the back of a small space scattered with filthy blankets. It was hunched over its' cupped hands like a greedy child with stolen food, hands from between which came a pale white radiance.
"Good evening," said Gorfang.
| DM Note: The idea of looming menacingly in a doorway, when Gorfang Deathdrinker is actively intimidating people, is pure Eloy chutzpah.... |
Celestials are immortal, sleepless and not required to eat. None the less, Straff did a splendid impression of a mortal suffering a heart attack as he jerked aroud wild-eyed. Gorfang spoke to him, while Eloy loomed in a corner looking menacing. "We've come from the beholder - Cherwell," he continued. Straff's face became frightened. "The last lot was good!" he babbled, "I swear it!" Gorfang nodded and smiled mirthlessly. "Yes, it was, but he wants more," he said, "and you know what he'll do if he doesn't get it." Actually, Gorfang didn't, but evidently Straff - now an angel in immortal fear - did. "Two more," clarified Gorfang.
Straff relaxed perceptibly. "Only two? That's not so bad," he said. "Which?" Gorfang and Eloy hadn't known the answer to this, but apparently Hektis and Sabath had provided it to their subconcious. "Anakhenra," answered Gorfang.
Straff gazed at him and all colour leached from his face. "You're mad," he whispered. Gorfang simply looked at him. Straff started to shake. "No-one harvests those. The Gods fear them; we'll have to steal a flickerwing. You got here - you must be able to get away?" Both nodded. "Then you must take me with you," he said urgently. "I can't stay after this - it's the end of the pipeline. Oh, Lilyx, help me!"
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Session Date: 25th February 2012 |
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