Metropolis (The World in Waiting) - Chapter One

[Bront]

"Hello down there!"

In the light Taran can easily see an old maintenance ladder, on that looks like it hasn't been used for years. It is covered in slime and moisure from the recent...incident...but still looks servicable.

"Hello down there!"

Obviously a long way down.

"Well, Twitchy, look like we're going down" Taran slings his spear back in it's quiver, with the point out, and begin to climb the ladder down carefully. If Twitchy can find a good spot to climb, Taran has Twitchy come down with him. If not, he tells Twitchy to stand guard.

OOC:[sblock]Twitchy is actualy a better climber than I am. But he's kinda big (compaired to me at least).

This has got to be the first time I've cursed the fact I didn't memorize 2 spider climbs[/sblock]

 

[RobotRobotI]

The carriage slows to a gentle stop at Alexis' command before the Herder steps down to open the carriage door for her, placing his own cloak on the cobblestones and helping her to the ground.
"Ma'am, this is very unusual, I was told not to stop for anything or anyone, your safety is my concern."
For as far as the eye can see the street is filled in shops, stalls, street artists, beggars, and crowds of citizens. Over all of this the massive temple casts a long shadow, a permenant reminder of the power that the clergy holds in this region.

Alexis takes in the sights and scents of the streets, a crooked smile across her face. Her feet would slowly step down over and across the man's cloak, taking her first steps on the cobblestone streets of the city below the Tower. Her eyes would move across the many people, and those who seemed most unfortunate would catch their attention. She would bring this dismay to the Herder's attention - "Why are they wearing such ugly clothes?"

She would look to her own robes, deep black silk with silver decor. "There are so many people in such distasteful clothes. Why?"

 

[Phoenix]

Hound steps aside to let the crowd through, he pauses at the door his eyes scanning the room, drinking in the details.
[sblock]Spot check[/sblock]
He carefully steps into the room, wiping his wet, muddy boots on the door step before entering. His every movement is fluid, smooth and non-threatening. An easy grin spreads across his face, his eyes seem to twinkle in the wane, dirty light that seems to almost ooze through the thick, smoky air.

"Thylon I presume?" Hound says touching his brow and then his chest before sweeping his hand before him in the traditional greeting of the 'parties. "It has been a long time since I have been back here, I see the old place is just as pleasant as ever. Busy? Looks like business is treating you a'right good sah"
[sblock] sense motive followed by diplomacy and gather information over the next couple of minutes while engaging in small talk. As soon as Thylon gets impatient I cut to the chase[/sblock]
"Look Thylon, I'm after some information. I'm looking for the daughter of Zimmerman"
[sblock] sense motive check to gauge his reaction to the name Zimmerman. If it seems he doesn't like Zimmerman or is indifferent to him I will use tact 1 below, if he seems friendly I'll go tact 2; Either way we'll need a bluff[/sblock]

[sblock]Diplomacy check +25
Sense Motive check +9
Gather Information check - Not Applicable
Spot check +16
[/sblock]

Thylon sneers at Hound's light hearted banter, but scoops away a pile of lesser coins before discarding possible sarcastic remarks. He thinks for a moment before leaning back on his chair.

"Yea, I remembers 'er, liel brat she waz. Las' tim I saw 'er she waz eddin' off wiv Zimmerman, go't a good price fer 'er..."

"Yeah the bastard has upset some of the heavies up top and they've set him up for a fall from grace. They're intending on seeing his business crumble and, having connections in the media, I'm too do some public discrediting. But, there's a problem. His daughter was going to go crown witness against him, she's seen some of his private dealings and is an important cog in the prosecutions case. And wouldn't ya know the little cow has done a runner. Word on the street is she was last seen somewhere here near the Apartments, you being a man with his finger on the pulse it seemed only natural that I should have a word."

Thylon seems disinterested in the tale, but listens our of professional courtesy, nodding his head occassionally, biting his nails, and scratching himself. Once Hound's tale is done he leans forward, speaking as if his would be the final word.

"You lissen 'ere, I ain' go't nuffin to do wif nuffin like tha't k? I run legit 'ere, all abuv board. But I can tell ya tha't tha't gurl 'ad anuther bidder from the Apartments, offered up ta 100 royals, wasn' enuff though..."

"E's an an'some lad, but word aroun' is that e's an organ farmer...name's Bremmen. Dunno where e lives, but I know he does a lot of business at the Ivory Markets..."

 

[Phoenix]

"Well, Twitchy, look like we're going down" Taran slings his spear back in it's quiver, with the point out, and begin to climb the ladder down carefully. If Twitchy can find a good spot to climb, Taran has Twitchy come down with him. If not, he tells Twitchy to stand guard.

OOC:[sblock]Twitchy is actualy a better climber than I am. But he's kinda big (compaired to me at least).

This has got to be the first time I've cursed the fact I didn't memorize 2 spider climbs[/sblock]

The old ladder seems strong enough to hold Taran's weight easily, and Twichy begins to slowly climb down the wall with great skill. The well's walls are old, broken masonry and fittings dangle loosely into the shaft, and much of it is covered in a common wet moss.
The climb is long, taking Taran an easy ten minutes to reach the bottom, with Twitchy waiting for the small druid at the bottom.
The ladder's base ends in an ancient tunnel within which a stream of filthy dark water drifts lazily along, filled with the limbs, organs and bodily fluids of an army of elderly men and women.
From the left side of the tunnel the strange moaning sound is now evidently louder, almost beconing the druid and his ratty companion onwards.

 

[Phoenix]

Alexis takes in the sights and scents of the streets, a crooked smile across her face. Her feet would slowly step down over and across the man's cloak, taking her first steps on the cobblestone streets of the city below the Tower. Her eyes would move across the many people, and those who seemed most unfortunate would catch their attention. She would bring this dismay to the Herder's attention - "Why are they wearing such ugly clothes?"

She would look to her own robes, deep black silk with silver decor. "There are so many people in such distasteful clothes. Why?"

One by one the crowd begins to turn, each of the citizens on the street portray an elderly visage of easily eighty summers. They quickly shamble to surround the carriage, raising their weakened arms in an accusing gesture, pointing at Alexis threateningly.
The rain pours down upon them from the dark skies above, and slowly but surely they begin to grow younger, shedding years by the second as their bodies regress. In seconds the crowd is a middle-aged group, then young adults turning into teenagers, before a large group of young children all fix their accusing gaze upon the priestess. The wail of dozens of small children crying lasts only a few seconds before Alexis is alone on the streets, surrounded by piles of old clothes.

A tapping on the door of the carriage wakes Alexis from her doze, the Herder looks through to make sure the valuable priestess is fine.

"Ma'am? You wished to stop?"

The visage from her window is identicle to the landscape that she had just dreamt about, but this time the people are normal, the streets are safe...perhaps.

 

[Bront]

The old ladder seems strong enough to hold Taran's weight easily, and Twichy begins to slowly climb down the wall with great skill. The well's walls are old, broken masonry and fittings dangle loosely into the shaft, and much of it is covered in a common wet moss.
The climb is long, taking Taran an easy ten minutes to reach the bottom, with Twitchy waiting for the small druid at the bottom.
The ladder's base ends in an ancient tunnel within which a stream of filthy dark water drifts lazily along, filled with the limbs, organs and bodily fluids of an army of elderly men and women.
From the left side of the tunnel the strange moaning sound is now evidently louder, almost beconing the druid and his ratty companion onwards.

Taran boldly calls out to the sound "Hello there" as he wades through the refuse. He takes out his spear again and lets it guide him. Using it as a walking stick as well as a torch. Twitchy crawls along with him.

Taran examines the stonework carefully as he goes. "I think few have been down here for ages Twitchy." he says absentmindedly to his companion. "This stonework is wonderful. I wonder if it's dwarven built?" Taran continues down the coridor heading towards the beconing sound.

 

[RobotRobotI]

One by one the crowd begins to turn, each of the citizens on the street portray an elderly visage of easily eighty summers. They quickly shamble to surround the carriage, raising their weakened arms in an accusing gesture, pointing at Alexis threateningly.
The rain pours down upon them from the dark skies above, and slowly but surely they begin to grow younger, shedding years by the second as their bodies regress. In seconds the crowd is a middle-aged group, then young adults turning into teenagers, before a large group of young children all fix their accusing gaze upon the priestess. The wail of dozens of small children crying lasts only a few seconds before Alexis is alone on the streets, surrounded by piles of old clothes.

A tapping on the door of the carriage wakes Alexis from her doze, the Herder looks through to make sure the valuable priestess is fine.

"Ma'am? You wished to stop?"

The visage from her window is identicle to the landscape that she had just dreamt about, but this time the people are normal, the streets are safe...perhaps.

Alexis almost yelps at the sight of the Herder. "Yes, er, no. No. Please take me back to the temple. My apologies."

She's obviously more than a little shaken. She'll discuss this with Vrisse before returning to the streets. It's not often that Alexis has nightmares, especially not in the middle of the day.

 

[Cathoi]

Wandering through the damp and dreary streets, it takes Naten minutes to locate the Yunidan River. Most of the rivers of Metropolis suffer from the pollution of the city, and the Yunidan is no exception. Brown, sludgy, and pungent on overly warm days, the river often causes great sickness in the poor that eat and drink from the diseased waters.
The barges nearby are little more than rafts that have been stolen from the larger vessels that sail the rivers between some of the wealthier suburbs like Dionysian and The Green Fields. A handful of copper bits is all that is needed to pay the ferryman, a haggered sick man that looks like he uses his income to suppliment whatever depraved addiction has claimed his soul.
Fifteen slow minutes pass, but Naten is eventually dropped at the run down Ivory Markets, a place thrives on the imaginative mind of the sick and twisted. Immediately the offerers of a man's daughter for several hours for a silver, or his dog...or him...sets the mood for the visit. It seems that it is not so much that anything can be bought here, but anything is for sale.

*Naten vigourously shakes his head while melting back into the crowd. He keeps his head down and pulls a peice of dark gray cloth from his pack; wrapping it around his mouth and nose like many of the other market go-ers, eager to keep anything breathable between them and the stech of Metropolis greater in the murky rain. He was known in this area, the kind of guy that was hired to stand gaurd over a hostage, or stay lookout, or one of innumerable other petty crimes; keep at it long enough and anyone could get a rep as a second rate criminal. Today (Naten looks at the drab overcast "sky" above him, as if one could call it day) he needed to go in nameless, there were pleny of people in this quarter who would see him gutted were it to strike their fancy, better not to tempt fate yet again. Moving among the vendors, looking over each fare with a half-feigned intrest, Naten gradually draws out names from the merchants until the a face goes along with the name Giante, or until his search grows too obviously differint from a hum-drumb day at the market. Naten barely suppresses a shudder when he passes by a street vendor pushing Weval Dust*

[sblock]Gather info (Urban Tracking) check to find Giante, Bluff check to keep a low profile[/sblock]

 

[D20Dazza]

["You lissen 'ere, I ain' go't nuffin to do wif nuffin like tha't k? I run legit 'ere, all abuv board. But I can tell ya tha't tha't gurl 'ad anuther bidder from the Apartments, offered up ta 100 royals, wasn' enuff though..."

"E's an an'some lad, but word aroun' is that e's an organ farmer...name's Bremmen. Dunno where e lives, but I know he does a lot of business at the Ivory Markets..."

"I know Thylon, your reputation proceeds you, nothing but honest, above-the-law dealings from the mighty Thylon" Ghost agrees amiably, always ready to cultivate another contact he continues. "I thank you for the lead and will be sure to put in a good word with them up top for you. Anything I can do for you in return good sah?"

[sblock]May need a bluff to convince him of my apparent connections with 'them up top'. If Thylon doesn't need anything Ghost will make his exit. He will use Bardic Knowledge to find out about Bremmen and the Ivory Markets; he will then take try gather info's on Bremmen as he makes his way towards the Ivory Market warily (on gaurd, he knows just how dangerous the area can be)[/sblock]

 

[Phoenix]

Taran boldly calls out to the sound "Hello there" as he wades through the refuse. He takes out his spear again and lets it guide him. Using it as a walking stick as well as a torch. Twitchy crawls along with him.

Taran examines the stonework carefully as he goes. "I think few have been down here for ages Twitchy." he says absentmindedly to his companion. "This stonework is wonderful. I wonder if it's dwarven built?" Taran continues down the coridor heading towards the beconing sound.

With the form of a curious Twitchy scuttering before him, Taran slowly follows the river of dismembered body parts upstream towards the noise. The light at the tip of his spear almost seems to struggle against the darkness for a moment, shadows conspiring to snuff the magical light and plunging the two into a darkness that they would never escape.

The tunnel bends ahead to the left, beyond which the low moaning sound seems to be emenating. Taran's light creeps around the corner slowly as he approaches, revealing a small junction room where the river of filth seems to be welling up from the floor like a slow perverse fountain.

On the far side of the chamber a small girl dressed in bloody rags scrabbles at the wall, trying to dig through the hard stone as if escaping from a nightmare. Her fingertips are broken and bleeding, her nails long since dislodged into the wall, and the soft moaning creeps forth from a shattered mouth where all of her teeth are missing and her gums are bleeding. A barbed metal chain wraps crudly about her ankle, fixing her to a ring in the wall so she does not escape, digging deeply into her flesh.