Metropolis (The World in Waiting) - Chapter One

[Phoenix]

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.

With an odd look on his face the Herder returns to his seat and gets the carriage in motion once more. As Alexis leans back into her cushioned seat to try and relax, a small mirror attached to a nearby wall portrays a startling sight. Catching her eye, she sees herself old, very old, as if the weight of the world was born on her shoulders. Swiftly the wrinkles receed, and her elderly visage regresses into a more youthful face, mimicking the vision that she had just witnessed.

The carriage moves ahead towards the temple. Leaving the priestess alone to contemplate, for soon she will return home to the safety of her temple walls once more.

[sblock]You can assume in your next post that you can easily make it back to the temple's steps if you have nothing else in mind.
[/sblock]

 

[Phoenix]

*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]

[sblock]Gather Information check (DC 12) +29 - Success
Spot check (DC 11) +15 - Success
I'm not going to worry about a Bluff roll with a check like that...
[/sblock]

Through the maze of twisted stalls, old wagons and dirty mats that display all forms of merchandise that only the desperate would sell, Naten slowly melds himself into a world of desperate survival. Rubbing shoulders with shoppers that eagerly part with their silvers to feed their addictions, it was inevitable that something like this would happen.

Within sight of the stall belonging to Giante, Naten sees the small child before he even makes a move. From beneath his muddy rags the child pulls a small blade a clumsily lunges for Naten's purse (though the slashing motion could easily slice a belly with such poor skill). The cutpurse's skill is lacking however, and Naten is prepared...

 

[Phoenix]

"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]

[sblock]Bluff check - Not Applicable (uncaring)
Bardic Knowledge check (Bremmen) +9 - Failure
Bardic Knowledge check (Ivory Markets) +13 - Failure
Gather Information check (Bremmen DC 15/25) +27 - Complete Success
Knowledge (religion - Yellow Cult DC 15) +20 - Success
[/sblock]

Thylon squints at Ghost in a manner that unsettles the investigator momentarily. The hunchback laughs a little and gestures towards the door before yelling at a group of peasants that are waiting to hold court with the 'merchant'.

Trudging through the narrow streets, the Ivory Markets is less than an hour's walk away towards the river, giving Ghost plenty of time to ask questions, and it seems that everyone has something to say about this 'Bremmen'.

Bremmen duGuar was once a heavy in the area, selling insurance to established businesses and ridding the markets of 'unwanted traders'. Seems that several years ago he hooked up with one of the many religions the dots the streets of Metropolis, the Yellow Cult, and prospered in his business dealings.
Ghost had heard of this 'Yellow Cult' before though, crossing them in his dealings investigating the followers of Hess Ne-el Il'ithuk. The Yellow Cult openly provided help to the sick and needy of the streets, but rumour was that they cultivated the organs of the sick and dying for their bio-magical experiments.
Now it seemed that Bremmen was doing their work for them, he 'oversees' several stalls in the Ivory Markets that deal with herbal extracts, organ sales, and temporal regression*. It may take some time to find the man in the maze of stalls, but no doubt he will be there somewhere.

[sblock]*It seems that some people will believe in anything to stay young and beautiful. Temporal Regression is a process that people with the right money can attempt, though the more educated know that it is folly. Merchants deal in Elf blood, injecting it into the veins of the customer in order to grant a small measure of Immortality. As long as people keep getting the treatments, they would live forever. Or so they say.
[/sblock]

 

[Bront]

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.

"Twitchy, stay back and stand guard. I fear there may be others down here." Taren says to his companion. He then begins to wade closer to the little girl.

Taran calls out to the girl "Hey there little one. Let me see if I can help you." (he will try several different languages if she does not understand him). He approaches slowly, putting the spear away (tip out) and muttering calming words to her. When he appraches close enough, he attempts to ease the chain around her ankle a bit. He then lays his hands on her and tries to cure her wounds.

"I'll get you out of here little one." He says as he looks at the chain and the ring for a way to remove her from it.

OOC:[sblock]What race is she?
Heal Check +5 for easing the chain
Cure light wounds (d8+4) for the cure. [/sblock]

 

[D20Dazza]

Now it seemed that Bremmen was doing their work for them, he 'oversees' several stalls in the Ivory Markets that deal with herbal extracts, organ sales, and temporal regression*. It may take some time to find the man in the maze of stalls, but no doubt he will be there somewhere.

"Temporal regression, the bastard!" Ghost thought to himself, being an elf he found the practice particularly vulgar "Talk about distilling the gene pool" he mutters as he walks. Ghost was oblivious to the desperation of the beggars and homeless that lay strewn around the markets like so much discarded garbage. He was much to intent and focussed on his current mission, finding Stephanie, to dwelll on the plight of the downtrodden. His strides led him purposefully through the Ivory Markets, conscious of the fact that time was not on his side, his keen eyes scan the crowded market place for the telltale robes of The Yellow Cult and the huge blocks of magical ice that the organ sellers used to keep their wares 'fresh'.

[sblock] continuing to be on gaurd; have ceased asking after Bremmen (trying not to alert him to his presence) and is using his 'nose' instead; if he finds Bremmen, an organ stall or members of the Cult he will hang back for several minutes (hide) and observe the goings on (spot, listen, search).[/sblock]

 

[Cathoi]

Through the maze of twisted stalls, old wagons and dirty mats that display all forms of merchandise that only the desperate would sell, Naten slowly melds himself into a world of desperate survival. Rubbing shoulders with shoppers that eagerly part with their silvers to feed their addictions, it was inevitable that something like this would happen.

Within sight of the stall belonging to Giante, Naten sees the small child before he even makes a move. From beneath his muddy rags the child pulls a small blade a clumsily lunges for Naten's purse (though the slashing motion could easily slice a belly with such poor skill). The cutpurse's skill is lacking however, and Naten is prepared...

Quick as a whip crack, Naten sidesteps the kid and attempts to grab for the would be theifs arm (preferably the one holding the knife). With enough of the crowd between them and Giante's stall, Naten looks down to the child's face, hoping for a glimmer of recognition from the street rat.

[sblock] Can't do much untill I see whether or not I catch the gutter waif's hand, so I'll wait on that fact to go into detail[/sblock]

 

[Phoenix]

"Twitchy, stay back and stand guard. I fear there may be others down here." Taren says to his companion. He then begins to wade closer to the little girl.

Taran calls out to the girl "Hey there little one. Let me see if I can help you." (he will try several different languages if she does not understand him). He approaches slowly, putting the spear away (tip out) and muttering calming words to her. When he appraches close enough, he attempts to ease the chain around her ankle a bit. He then lays his hands on her and tries to cure her wounds.

"I'll get you out of here little one." He says as he looks at the chain and the ring for a way to remove her from it.

OOC:[sblock]What race is she?
Heal Check +5 for easing the chain
Cure light wounds (d8+4) for the cure. [/sblock]

[sblock]Heal check (DC 10) +22 - Success
Cure Light Wounds - healed for 8pts
Spellcraft check (DC hidden) +7 - Failure
Initiative Order
Twitchy +19
Taran +20
Figure +6
[/sblock]

Twitchy turns, looking about the chamber as Taran approaches the girl slowly. Without a will to resist, she bursts into tears and collapses helplessly on the filthy ground, allowing Taran to see to her wounds. This close the druid notices that it is a human child tied to the wall, though very bloodied and beaten. His hands expertly remove the chain, though not without a measure of pain from the small girl and it can be seen that her foot is badly infected.
Taran's lips roll with power as he calls upon the power needed to heal the girl, his hands passing across her leg gently causing the wounds to knit themselves together once more. She is obviously still hurt though, diseased and infected in a way that she may never recover unless seen to with the most expensive (and rare) magical attention.
Suddenly Twitchy gnashes in alarm, leaping into the pool of filth in the centre of the chamber. Turning around, Taran sees his companion swimming towards a humanoid figure caked in blood and gore, rising from the pool silently, if it were not for the rat's alarm Taran may have been caught completely by surprise.
The figure begins to intone ancient words of powers, gesturing with his hands in long sweeping motions, his visage indicating that he is not pleased with the druid's involvement in the area.

 

[Phoenix]

Quick as a whip crack, Naten sidesteps the kid and attempts to grab for the would be theifs arm (preferably the one holding the knife). With enough of the crowd between them and Giante's stall, Naten looks down to the child's face, hoping for a glimmer of recognition from the street rat.

[sblock] Can't do much untill I see whether or not I catch the gutter waif's hand, so I'll wait on that fact to go into detail[/sblock]

Naten easily grabs the hand of the cutpurse, lifting his arm high so that his blade cannot be manuevered. The child looks up initially in fear, then in amusement.

"'Allo Nate, long time no see...don't s'pose you could spare a cupla bits fer a poor starven' kid?"

 

[Phoenix]

His strides led him purposefully through the Ivory Markets, conscious of the fact that time was not on his side, his keen eyes scan the crowded market place for the telltale robes of The Yellow Cult and the huge blocks of magical ice that the organ sellers used to keep their wares 'fresh'.

[sblock] continuing to be on gaurd; have ceased asking after Bremmen (trying not to alert him to his presence) and is using his 'nose' instead; if he finds Bremmen, an organ stall or members of the Cult he will hang back for several minutes (hide) and observe the goings on (spot, listen, search).[/sblock]

[sblock]Hide check +22
Spot check +22
Listen check +10
Search check (not applicable)
[/sblock]

Hound's nose has rarely led him astray, and the ability to hide large slabs of ice has never been a skill highly required in the Ivory Markets. An organ stall by the river is currently in full swing, selling fresh lungs (and the installation of, for a price) to those suffering long-term Wheeze addiction.
The little nook between two stalls that he has found is perfect to spy on the stall, and it isn't long before Hound notices one of the men attending to the magical ice seems to be covering an old dirty yellow robe beneath his work cloths. It seems that constant magical attention is required at each of these stalls to keep the goods 'fresh'.
Unfortunately there is no sign of Bremmen, and for some time the goings on at the stall seem to be purely business.

 

[D20Dazza]

Unfortunately there is no sign of Bremmen, and for some time the goings on at the stall seem to be purely business.

After watching the operation for a while Ghost leaves his hiding place and saunters over to the stall, casting furtive glances around the area he approaches the worker who he noticed had hidden his yellow robe. With a wild look in his eyes and speaking quickly he says "You must take me to Bremmen, I have access to a cache of particularly valuable merchandise that he might be able to make use of. I don't have the cooling facilities and it won't be long before the goods are only fit to graft on to the undead. C'mon man be quick about it, I'm desperate which means Bremmen is up for a good deal and you know how he hates missing a good deal. Is it worth you becoming a commodity for his business, I've heard he's done that to workers who have let him down in the past."
[sblock] furtive glances equal quick assessment of any immediate dangers. bluff roll followed by a sense motive of the guy's answer. Any sign of trouble and he will attempt to facinate the man[/sblock]