-
The VOIDRUNNER'S CODEX is LIVE! Explore new worlds, fight oppressive empires, fend off fearsome aliens, and wield deadly psionics with this comprehensive boxed set expansion for 5E and A5E!
Shemeska's Planescape Storyhour (Updated 29 Jan 2014)
- Thread starter Shemeska
- Start date
Shemeska
Adventurer
Fimmtiu said:
Abraham Lincoln is so totally hardcore. He totally messed up the other guys in the pit fighting at the Bottle and Jug in the Hive
Shemeska
Adventurer
Shators were massive creatures by any measure. As tall as a pit fiend or balor, they were easily twice as broad, and unlike kelubar gehreleths who might be described as corpulent, shators presented something more muscular, and Xideous was no exception. Almost as wide as the table that sat in the center of the cell, muscles rippled just below the semi-reptilian fiend's flesh, flexing with each movement as it looked down at its potential allies.
Beings of xenophobic hatred and callous cruelty, an aura of power and intimidation exuded in his presence, but it also seemed apparent that the 'leth was intentionally holding back in whatever sublime way he could in order to present a more amiable, more cultured, and more trusting appearance. Still though, it was difficult not to be apprehensive, especially given their experience with a mere farastu back in Carceri.
"Would we know who you are?" Toras asked, not showing any recognition.
"By name or by deeds?" The fiend asked, a boastful tone creeping into his voice. "By name I would certainly hope not. I've done my best to make sure that my presence here in Sigil is completely unknown to anyone who might care, and likewise to those who wouldn't. And by deeds, for the moment perhaps, but the full scope of what I'm doing has yet to be completed, hence the desire for privacy."
The fiend was waiting for them to ask him what it was that he was working on; that much was obvious. It was odd in a way, for a being as massive as a shator, one of the most powerful fiends, to be as superficially giddy like a child hiding a surprise behind their back and asking their parents to guess what it was.
Normally that sort of act would be met with a laugh and some comment or another, but the 'leth was standing less than five feet from them, and could probably rip half of them to pieces before they had the door open if they angered him. Humoring the 'leth was probably the wisest course of action, especially when a being of his stature was also dangling an offer of mutual aid.
Clueless motioned at the books, "Why the concern for privacy? What is it that you're working on that you need the secrecy for?"
Xideous chuckled.
"My privacy allows me to complete my work." He explained as his smile grew wider to reveal a maw full of glistening, ragged fangs and he gestured back at the stacks of books that surrounded him. "I'm something of an author you see, and I happen to share enemies with you. In fact I can assure you that the upper echelons of the yugoloth hierarchy have more reason to kill me than for anything that you have done, including what you've done to the Oinoloth's rotting little harlot."
Fyrehowl raised an eyebrow. They'd turned the Overlord of Carceri to stone and aborted her plans on the Astral, probably thrown a wrench into the Oinoloth's plans as well. What would make any particular shator a greater concern? Just what had Xideous done?
The gehreleth set down his pen, leaned forward across the table ever so slightly and grinned.
"On that last part, I really do have to say that you've made something of a name for yourselves."
"For better or for worse." Clueless said, knowing that it was only politics, petty internal politics even, that might manage to keep them from an endless succession of assassination attempts. "I'd have preferred to f*ck the 'loths over without my name being known."
Nisha peered out from behind Tristol. "...Are we actually known for what we did?"
Xideous shook his head. "To me yes. But I do keep my finger on the pulse of who has done what to engender the hatred of any of the 'loths. Your name probably isn't a known quantity among the 'loths except for a select few, and it won't be spread because it would be politically embarrassing to some of them. Their infighting and self-obsessive power mongering works to your benefit."
The Xaositect let out a sigh of relief and went back to nuzzling Tristol's tail. The others echoed her sigh, either outwardly or inwardly.
"So you're an author." Fyrehowl prompted. "What exactly is it that you're writing?"
Xideous had been waiting for them to ask, and he happily gave them an answer. "Have you ever heard of the Book of Keeping?"
Something in the back of Clueless's mind felt uneasy with where the conversation was going.
"I've heard of it." Tristol said, nodding. "It's supposed to be a book that details how to summon and bind yugoloths."
Xideous nodded back. "You would be correct mortal."
"I also know that it's hideously rare," Tristol continued. "And most of the copies that exist are just copies of copies; imperfect ones at that. Supposedly the 'loths have tried to suppress it, and when they find one of them, they do their best to destroy it."
"Correct again." The 'leth's grin was growing.
"Makes sense though." Florian said. "Especially if it wasn't a book they put out themselves. It'd piss them off to be yanked down to the prime by some random mage and forced into service by their truename or some other trick the book mentioned."
"They despise the notion." Xideous said. "Their sense of superiority cannot accept servitude to a mortal, or anything else, and the book was something else anathemic to them: it was truthful in what it told. It laid bare what its authors knew about the 'loths, their society, their caste structure, the structure of their language, massive lists of truenames and rituals specific to each type of 'loth; everything needed to shackle them."
The shator gave a deep, rumbling cackle and strummed his fingers across the top of the tome that had occupied a central position on his desk since they'd entered. The book drew the spotlight and no one noticed just how much Clueless’s wings were nervously twitching.
"Oh..." Toras began. "You're sh*tting me."
Xideous grinned. "There exists one remaining complete copy of the Book of Keeping, and yes, I possess it."
Powers above! No wonder he wanted to remain low-key!
The 'leth was not finished speaking however.
"And who better than I to not only possess it, but to undertake a revision and expansion to the material? When I am done, the Shator Revision of the Book of Keeping will be distributed like larvae from the hags. I will make the 'loths suffer and they will learn their proper place in the multiverse. The true names of their lords will dot the pages like worms in over-ripe meat."
Mistake. The voice of the Jester echoed suddenly inside Clueless's mind.
Clueless's eyes went wide, not at the lurking presence of the Jester, not at the admissions of the shator standing in front of him, but for another reason entirely. Helekanalaith. The Keeper of the Tower. The veritable master of Gehenna was hunting the "author of the revised Book of Keeping", he just didn't have a name, or hadn't provided one. Xideous was not safe. The 'loths might already know. The f*cking Keeper himself might have already taken notice. Sh*t!
"I want a copy." Toras said, the moment the 'leth paused.
"That is a very open possibility." The fiend replied. "But I am not finished, not yet. And that is where my idea of mutual aid comes into play."
"I'm with Toras too." Tristol said. "What do you want in exchange for a copy?"
"I propose an even exchange of information." Xideous offered. "You provide what you discover about the yugoloths to me: names, associations, descriptions, roles, anything you feel pertinent. In exchange I will give you any information about them that I am aware of myself, anything within the pages of the book, and anything granted to me by the Triple Aspected himself."
Clueless wanted to scream. It might already be too late.
"What's the catch?" Fyrehowl asked. "Forgive me for asking, but there has to be a catch."
Xideous smirked and pointed the tip of his pen in her direction. "Given what you are, I expect that sentiment. But my loathing to the spawn of the Demented utterly outweighs anything your kind could ever represent or do to my race or me. You provide information and I will do so in return. As for the rest of you, your mortality offends me less than the notion that even a single 'loth resides in Carceri."
Fyrehowl nodded. The fiend seemed genuine in his sentiment. She didn't detect any sense of duplicity regarding his motives at all. His hatred for the 'loths might even outstrip her own, but his capacity for hatred was also something alien to her people, even if her loss might be more poignant and much more recent.
"You've also done my kind a service." Xideous continued. "When you removed Shylara the Manged from being an active presence in Carceri, she was in the beginning stages of an attempt to flush the Red Prison of the gehreleths, layer by layer. The completion of her tower might have given her the ability to do so, and she and her lover before her, are a far cry from the ineffectual rulership of Bubonix. You may have delayed, or destroyed, her dreams of a genocidal crusade across Othrys, Cathrys, and Minethys, maybe even deeper."
It took a moment for that revelation to settle in.
"Ambitious little b*tch..." Fyrehowl muttered.
"So you see," Xideous said. "My appreciation isn't just something out of shared goals and shared enemies. You've done something even more tangible than you thought."
Toras tapped his fist on the wall, "Well she won't be doing anything for a while, that's for sure."
Behind the fighter, Nisha happily did her best almost caricatured impression of Shylara's petrified form.
Xideous chuckled, "I wish I could have been there to see it. But that said, I leave it open to you to consider my offer. It is not extended without risk to myself."
Of course if they refused, the threat posed by the fiend was still there lurking in the background, as well as the enmity of an entire race. But in truth, there was precious little reason to not accept the deal as offered. There was only a moment of shared glances and nods and that was that.
"We'll accept." Fyrehowl said, speaking for the group.
Xideous didn't immediately expect any flow of information in either direction, though when pointedly asked, he regretfully admitted that he was not aware of the Marauder's truename, though he sorely desired it. He did spend some time discussing the dynamics of the 'loth occupation of Othrys, and how it had differed through the tenures of the various 'loth overlords of the Tower of Incarnate Pain.
Eventually though they had said all they had to say, and given the depth of the shator's knowledge, they needed more time to come up with specific questions to ask him, and he promised to have a compiled list of questions for them, as well as a veiled promise of a copy of the incomplete tome at some point in the future.
The desire to leave however was not monolithic.
As the others thanked the fiend and moved towards the door, Clueless held back. "Guys, I'd like to stay a moment more and discuss something in private with him."
Glancing at him but making no comment, the gehreleth simply folded his hands and waited.
Florian was more questioning though. "Hmm? What about?"
"It should only take a minute or two." He explained, motioning them on. "Just wait for me outside."
After a few abortive attempts to worm out of the bladesinger just what he needed to ask that couldn't be done with them present, they reluctantly left and walked back out to the hallway. It hadn't so much stoked their interest though, so much as it had raised the lurking specter of distrust and resentment over Clueless keeping secrets from them. Be that as it might though, his secrecy was well meaning, and at the moment more self-preservation.
As soon as the door to the cell closed behind his companions, Clueless turned to face Xideous. Without bluntly, openly admitting to the situation, he had to somehow relate to the fiend the danger he was in.
"You have an astounding amount of guts to be doing what you are."
The fiend still had a patient but curious look upon his face. "My race has an astounding amount of reason for our hatred of them."
Clueless nodded, "And I share the perspective. But you're in the middle of a swarm of their influence. What would you do if the 'loths found out where you are?"
The Shator smirked and cracked the knuckles on his left hand, "I'd make certain that their informant was slaughtered and their heart delivered to Agathys in a goblet made of a silver-plated 'loth's skull."
Clueless inwardly blanched. So much for telling him the truth. 'Hi there Xideous, one of the lords of Gehenna is probably looking at you right now...' No. That wouldn't work.
"Are you certain that you're safe in Sigil?"
Xideous snorted. "I've been here since two years before the Faction War, seven years, and in all that time I haven't been disturbed once. The 'loths would have burned the Gatehouse to the ground along with everyone inside if they even suspected that I was inside."
Clueless looked away for a moment. He wasn't taking the hint.
"Is it still safe here given the recent upheaval among the 'loths?" He asked. "The new Oinoloth is more proactive, and we know for a fact that the Marauder at least has significantly more power under the current order than before. The atmosphere in Sigil hasn't been healthy for their enemies. They've tried to kill us a few times, and though it's been a while now, you'll remember when they killed the former high executioner for the Mercykillers."
"And they haven't in all that time even sent a single agent into the Gatehouse, despite having a network of them crawling across the Hive." Xideous explained, not showing much concern. "I won't claim to know each and every stooge on their payroll, or blackmailed into servitude in some capacity, but I don't feel it's a risk."
"What I'm saying is that we've had far too many dealings with the 'loths here in the city." Clueless said, trying to still hint to the shator without overtly saying it. "The place is crawling with them, or people loyal to them. I don't..."
Xideous waved off his concern. "Trust my judgment in this mortal. I've been here where I am for long enough to observe the dynamics of the city. If you must know, I have a large number of the former Bleakers affected by a permanents mindspider of sorts, and I'll be well aware of anyone looking for me before they could do anything. If I have to leave, I have contingent plans."
It wasn't going to work. And Clueless wasn't going to tell him the truth, because the truth was that he was doomed.
Outside in the hallway, the group stood and speculated on what had held Clueless behind.
"No, I don't like him keeping secrets from me." Tristol said with a frown. "It's annoying to no end."
"He's like that." Fyrehowl said with a shrug.
"Annoying?" Nisha asked. "I wouldn't say..."
The lupinal chuckled and shook her head, "I meant he can be secretive."
"All the time though." Tristol complained, ears flat against his head. "He's like that all the time and it's getting to be seriously annoying."
Toras sighed and gave a shrug. "It is, but it hasn't been malicious on his part. He's had good reason and decent intentions behind it."
"But it doesn't make me feel like he trusts his friends as much as he could when he doesn't tell us about things that are incredibly important."
"Then ask him when he's finished talking with the 'leth." Florian said. "Tell him that it's important, tell him how you feel. Just don't let it build up. I mean..."
Florian paused abruptly and stared over Fyrehowl's shoulder at the barred window looking into ex-factol Tollysalmon's cell. There'd been nothing but darkness there only a moment before, but suddenly, without actually seeing any movement, the ex-factol was standing there immediately behind the bars, staring at them.
The githyanki's face was a sallow shade of mottled gray, made sickly and gaunt by her incarceration. A few strands of knotted hair hung past her face and though her expression was almost entirely blank, there was the faintest, enigmatic hint of amusement, though her eyes were a solid, iris-less black.
"Sh*t!" Florian shouted as she jerked back a few feet, followed almost immediately by a similar scramble from her companions.
And then, just as quick as she'd appeared, the githyanki factol vanished back into the shadows.
"You can't stop it..." A hissing, trailing whisper echoed from the cell and inside their heads at once.
The group was twenty feet away in the space of a few seconds, clustered back at the stairs and as far away from the mad bleakers as they could get and still be within view of where Clueless would exit after he was finished with Xideous. They hadn't been intending to eavesdrop on the Shator and the bladesinger, though in retrospect the appearance of such wouldn't have been a wise thing to present, but the ex-factols were unsettling. Tessali was perfectly justified in his worry regarding those madmen, and just like him, they simply didn't want to be anywhere near them.
Fyrehowl hadn't felt anything; she hadn't heard the woman's footsteps, or her breathing. Nothing. She'd just been there. Either she wasn't a threat at all, or the Cadence hadn't felt her, or maybe a bit of both. The cipher wasn't certain anymore than she understand what the gith had whispered to them, assuming it was anything more than the ramblings of insanity.
Nisha broke the silence, jerking her tail to point back down the hall. "So now that we're away from factol spooky, anyone want to speculate what Clueless is doing in there?"
Toras rolled his eyes, "The fiend?"
"Huh?" Skalliska asked, clearly confused. In fact it was the first time that she'd said anything the whole time. The kobold's mind was fixated on something else entirely.
"You know..."
"Huh?" Skalliska asked again.
Toras slapped his hands together rhythmically. "You know..."
"Toras!" Florian exclaimed, blushing.
"Well that's what he did with the Manged back in Carceri! Kinda. Sorta. And for all I know the Marauder probably screwed his brains out too. He's got a record of this you know."
Nisha was giggling and blushing, the tips of Tristol's ears were red, and Fyrehowl shook her head.
"That's absolutely disgusting." Florian said. "Please Toras, don't go into detail. I'd like to keep my mind from remembering those episodes."
"Apparently manifest Evil finds him hot!" Toras said, continuing his inappropriate line of joking. "Or maybe he finds Evil hot. I dunno. He screwed the freaking Manged. I'm immune to disease and even I'm going there. So pardon me for speculating on the next one in line."
Xideous's cell door swung open and Clueless walked back to rejoin the group. The conversation quickly died away once they heard his footsteps and the heavy slam of the gehreleth's cell door sliding shut, but he heard enough to know what they were talking and joking about. He didn't say anything, or acknowledge that he'd heard them, but the comments hurt.
Nothing of the sort had happened with the 'leth -the very idea was repulsive to him- and he'd stayed behind to speak out of a desire to save its life and keep him as an ally. He'd had good intentions and his friends were making jokes about him f*cking it.
Clueless looked away and frowned. When he finally bottled up his feelings and turned back to his companions he managed to hold his tongue and hold their questions at bay. Tristol likewise didn't mention his feelings on the topic, though in truth, soon enough they'd be irrelevant.
When they left the Gatehouse and wandered back through the Hive and into the Clerk's Ward, back to the Portal Jammer, the sky was thick with smog and haze, already beginning to darken as the city slipped further and further from Peak and its modicum of daylight. From across the ring of the city, lights could already be seen like erstwhile stars dotting the dusk, props for Sigil's play of night, each slowly being dragged out from the city's backstage.
Despite Sigil's trappings of filth and age, and the Hive's unique stench, the burgeoning night seemed tinged with a positive note as they walked back home. They'd managed in the past week to have the yugoloth overlord of Carceri pulled off of their backs, and by virtue of their actions against her, they'd attracted the attentions of a powerful ally. Yes it was another fiend, but even if they had to metaphorically rob Peter to pay Paul, simply on a practical level they could dirty their hands if it meant empowering themselves alongside another enemy of the 'loths.
That was the predominant feeling at least. Clueless though felt remarkably different. As much as he tried to put on a show of attitude similar to the others, he knew what was going to happen. It was only a question of when. Xideous was a marked man.
But Clueless and his hidden feelings were not for the moment a shared anchorstone dragging on the hearts of his companions, and once they arrived back at the Portal Jammer, there was an impromptu round of drinks free on the house to those customers who were there for a late dinner or an evening drink. No explanation was given, and the regulars happily accepted the free liquor without pressing the issue, but the owners were clearly excited about something as they passed out the drinks, took their own and retired to the private room in the back of the inn.
Well, again, most of them were.
Skalliska had vanished back to her room with something clearly on her mind as far as her companions were aware, but it didn't seem as if anything was terribly amiss. Whatever it was they'd find out eventually they figured, but it couldn't be anything bad, and they didn't let to sully their mood.
Clueless was drinking sure enough, but for an entirely different reason. There was no celebration when he raised his glass, and there was no happiness to be found in the bottom as a mug, just the bitter taste of the dregs on the tip of his tongue to match his mood.
"To Xideous." The bladesinger said, raising his glass in a toast.
"To Xideous and to us." The response from the others came.
Celebration? It felt like a wake.
"Here's to screwing the 'loths over!" Florian called out, raising her glass.
"getting Here's to drunk!" Nisha shouted, slipping into scramblespeak, having kept up in volume with the others despite being significantly lighter.
Tristol delicately took away her drink and gave her a kiss.
"Here's to still skeptical lupinals." Fyrehowl said. "I'm excited but we'll see how this goes. Fiends are fiends still I suppose."
Florian nudged her, "Don't break the mood 'hun."
"I suppose not." The cipher replied. "Call it a feeling I suppose. But what the heck, I don't want to be a downer, so... here's to us and here's to drinking!"
"wOHoo XoAs!" Nisha countered drunkenly.
Another twenty minutes of celebration more and Clueless couldn't handle the difference in mood through the room compared to how he truly felt.
"Guys?" The bladesinger asked. "I'm feeling a bit tired, maybe a little out of it from everything that happened today. So if you don't mind, I'm going to be going to bed early tonight. I'll see you all in the morning."
Florian nodded, "Don't worry about it."
"You sure?" He questioned. "You won't mind handling closing time?"
Not at all. It wouldn't be a problem at all was the response. The mood was too good to care. Clueless's mind was clouding with guilt when he walked up the stairs to his room, and his heart was heavy when he finally, fitfully fell asleep an hour later, dreading the likely call of some fiendish psychopomp on its way to the gatehouse.
The others called an end to the evening eventually, retiring to their own rooms to sleep or study or pray, ignorant of that looming nightingale on the horizon calling out its song to the tune of 'loth.
"Hello Toras..."
Sitting on his bed, reciting from a book of prayers, the fighter cringed and slowly turned around to a voice that was immediately recognizable.
Hovering next to the window, turned to look out into the street was the quasi-illusory projection of the Cheshire Fiend. As always, the fiend's avatar was smiling, shedding a bright white glow across Toras's room to dwarf the normal light from the street and his own reading lamp on the table.
"It's a beautiful night tonight." The fiend said, unreadable in tone, still looking out the window. "Wouldn't you agree?"
Toras didn't have a clue what to think, either about the Grin's comment or about his very presence. The last time they'd had any dealings with him, while they hadn't been harmed, they'd been used like puppets of convenience, and there was still some distrust and animosity regarding that. Truth be told, the Cheshire Fiend's loyalties and motivations were still as entirely inscrutable as they'd ever been, and while he'd nominally advanced the cause of the current Oinoloth prior to his ascension, all indications were that in true 'loth form he was ultimately loyal to the only thing that mattered to him: him.
Toras looked at the fiend's avatar but didn't reply. He crossed his arms and waited for the illusion to say something worth responding to.
"Did I say something to offend?" The glowing grin turned a bit to either side and then down, like he were staring at a body he didn't have, looking for something awkward in what he'd worn.
"Not yet I suppose." Toras replied.
It grinned wider. That might have been good, it might have been a horrible omen. Toras wasn't sure.
Beings of xenophobic hatred and callous cruelty, an aura of power and intimidation exuded in his presence, but it also seemed apparent that the 'leth was intentionally holding back in whatever sublime way he could in order to present a more amiable, more cultured, and more trusting appearance. Still though, it was difficult not to be apprehensive, especially given their experience with a mere farastu back in Carceri.
"Would we know who you are?" Toras asked, not showing any recognition.
"By name or by deeds?" The fiend asked, a boastful tone creeping into his voice. "By name I would certainly hope not. I've done my best to make sure that my presence here in Sigil is completely unknown to anyone who might care, and likewise to those who wouldn't. And by deeds, for the moment perhaps, but the full scope of what I'm doing has yet to be completed, hence the desire for privacy."
The fiend was waiting for them to ask him what it was that he was working on; that much was obvious. It was odd in a way, for a being as massive as a shator, one of the most powerful fiends, to be as superficially giddy like a child hiding a surprise behind their back and asking their parents to guess what it was.
Normally that sort of act would be met with a laugh and some comment or another, but the 'leth was standing less than five feet from them, and could probably rip half of them to pieces before they had the door open if they angered him. Humoring the 'leth was probably the wisest course of action, especially when a being of his stature was also dangling an offer of mutual aid.
Clueless motioned at the books, "Why the concern for privacy? What is it that you're working on that you need the secrecy for?"
Xideous chuckled.
"My privacy allows me to complete my work." He explained as his smile grew wider to reveal a maw full of glistening, ragged fangs and he gestured back at the stacks of books that surrounded him. "I'm something of an author you see, and I happen to share enemies with you. In fact I can assure you that the upper echelons of the yugoloth hierarchy have more reason to kill me than for anything that you have done, including what you've done to the Oinoloth's rotting little harlot."
Fyrehowl raised an eyebrow. They'd turned the Overlord of Carceri to stone and aborted her plans on the Astral, probably thrown a wrench into the Oinoloth's plans as well. What would make any particular shator a greater concern? Just what had Xideous done?
The gehreleth set down his pen, leaned forward across the table ever so slightly and grinned.
"On that last part, I really do have to say that you've made something of a name for yourselves."
"For better or for worse." Clueless said, knowing that it was only politics, petty internal politics even, that might manage to keep them from an endless succession of assassination attempts. "I'd have preferred to f*ck the 'loths over without my name being known."
Nisha peered out from behind Tristol. "...Are we actually known for what we did?"
Xideous shook his head. "To me yes. But I do keep my finger on the pulse of who has done what to engender the hatred of any of the 'loths. Your name probably isn't a known quantity among the 'loths except for a select few, and it won't be spread because it would be politically embarrassing to some of them. Their infighting and self-obsessive power mongering works to your benefit."
The Xaositect let out a sigh of relief and went back to nuzzling Tristol's tail. The others echoed her sigh, either outwardly or inwardly.
"So you're an author." Fyrehowl prompted. "What exactly is it that you're writing?"
Xideous had been waiting for them to ask, and he happily gave them an answer. "Have you ever heard of the Book of Keeping?"
Something in the back of Clueless's mind felt uneasy with where the conversation was going.
"I've heard of it." Tristol said, nodding. "It's supposed to be a book that details how to summon and bind yugoloths."
Xideous nodded back. "You would be correct mortal."
"I also know that it's hideously rare," Tristol continued. "And most of the copies that exist are just copies of copies; imperfect ones at that. Supposedly the 'loths have tried to suppress it, and when they find one of them, they do their best to destroy it."
"Correct again." The 'leth's grin was growing.
"Makes sense though." Florian said. "Especially if it wasn't a book they put out themselves. It'd piss them off to be yanked down to the prime by some random mage and forced into service by their truename or some other trick the book mentioned."
"They despise the notion." Xideous said. "Their sense of superiority cannot accept servitude to a mortal, or anything else, and the book was something else anathemic to them: it was truthful in what it told. It laid bare what its authors knew about the 'loths, their society, their caste structure, the structure of their language, massive lists of truenames and rituals specific to each type of 'loth; everything needed to shackle them."
The shator gave a deep, rumbling cackle and strummed his fingers across the top of the tome that had occupied a central position on his desk since they'd entered. The book drew the spotlight and no one noticed just how much Clueless’s wings were nervously twitching.
"Oh..." Toras began. "You're sh*tting me."
Xideous grinned. "There exists one remaining complete copy of the Book of Keeping, and yes, I possess it."
Powers above! No wonder he wanted to remain low-key!
The 'leth was not finished speaking however.
"And who better than I to not only possess it, but to undertake a revision and expansion to the material? When I am done, the Shator Revision of the Book of Keeping will be distributed like larvae from the hags. I will make the 'loths suffer and they will learn their proper place in the multiverse. The true names of their lords will dot the pages like worms in over-ripe meat."
Mistake. The voice of the Jester echoed suddenly inside Clueless's mind.
Clueless's eyes went wide, not at the lurking presence of the Jester, not at the admissions of the shator standing in front of him, but for another reason entirely. Helekanalaith. The Keeper of the Tower. The veritable master of Gehenna was hunting the "author of the revised Book of Keeping", he just didn't have a name, or hadn't provided one. Xideous was not safe. The 'loths might already know. The f*cking Keeper himself might have already taken notice. Sh*t!
"I want a copy." Toras said, the moment the 'leth paused.
"That is a very open possibility." The fiend replied. "But I am not finished, not yet. And that is where my idea of mutual aid comes into play."
"I'm with Toras too." Tristol said. "What do you want in exchange for a copy?"
"I propose an even exchange of information." Xideous offered. "You provide what you discover about the yugoloths to me: names, associations, descriptions, roles, anything you feel pertinent. In exchange I will give you any information about them that I am aware of myself, anything within the pages of the book, and anything granted to me by the Triple Aspected himself."
Clueless wanted to scream. It might already be too late.
"What's the catch?" Fyrehowl asked. "Forgive me for asking, but there has to be a catch."
Xideous smirked and pointed the tip of his pen in her direction. "Given what you are, I expect that sentiment. But my loathing to the spawn of the Demented utterly outweighs anything your kind could ever represent or do to my race or me. You provide information and I will do so in return. As for the rest of you, your mortality offends me less than the notion that even a single 'loth resides in Carceri."
Fyrehowl nodded. The fiend seemed genuine in his sentiment. She didn't detect any sense of duplicity regarding his motives at all. His hatred for the 'loths might even outstrip her own, but his capacity for hatred was also something alien to her people, even if her loss might be more poignant and much more recent.
"You've also done my kind a service." Xideous continued. "When you removed Shylara the Manged from being an active presence in Carceri, she was in the beginning stages of an attempt to flush the Red Prison of the gehreleths, layer by layer. The completion of her tower might have given her the ability to do so, and she and her lover before her, are a far cry from the ineffectual rulership of Bubonix. You may have delayed, or destroyed, her dreams of a genocidal crusade across Othrys, Cathrys, and Minethys, maybe even deeper."
It took a moment for that revelation to settle in.
"Ambitious little b*tch..." Fyrehowl muttered.
"So you see," Xideous said. "My appreciation isn't just something out of shared goals and shared enemies. You've done something even more tangible than you thought."
Toras tapped his fist on the wall, "Well she won't be doing anything for a while, that's for sure."
Behind the fighter, Nisha happily did her best almost caricatured impression of Shylara's petrified form.
Xideous chuckled, "I wish I could have been there to see it. But that said, I leave it open to you to consider my offer. It is not extended without risk to myself."
Of course if they refused, the threat posed by the fiend was still there lurking in the background, as well as the enmity of an entire race. But in truth, there was precious little reason to not accept the deal as offered. There was only a moment of shared glances and nods and that was that.
"We'll accept." Fyrehowl said, speaking for the group.
Xideous didn't immediately expect any flow of information in either direction, though when pointedly asked, he regretfully admitted that he was not aware of the Marauder's truename, though he sorely desired it. He did spend some time discussing the dynamics of the 'loth occupation of Othrys, and how it had differed through the tenures of the various 'loth overlords of the Tower of Incarnate Pain.
Eventually though they had said all they had to say, and given the depth of the shator's knowledge, they needed more time to come up with specific questions to ask him, and he promised to have a compiled list of questions for them, as well as a veiled promise of a copy of the incomplete tome at some point in the future.
The desire to leave however was not monolithic.
As the others thanked the fiend and moved towards the door, Clueless held back. "Guys, I'd like to stay a moment more and discuss something in private with him."
Glancing at him but making no comment, the gehreleth simply folded his hands and waited.
Florian was more questioning though. "Hmm? What about?"
"It should only take a minute or two." He explained, motioning them on. "Just wait for me outside."
After a few abortive attempts to worm out of the bladesinger just what he needed to ask that couldn't be done with them present, they reluctantly left and walked back out to the hallway. It hadn't so much stoked their interest though, so much as it had raised the lurking specter of distrust and resentment over Clueless keeping secrets from them. Be that as it might though, his secrecy was well meaning, and at the moment more self-preservation.
***
As soon as the door to the cell closed behind his companions, Clueless turned to face Xideous. Without bluntly, openly admitting to the situation, he had to somehow relate to the fiend the danger he was in.
"You have an astounding amount of guts to be doing what you are."
The fiend still had a patient but curious look upon his face. "My race has an astounding amount of reason for our hatred of them."
Clueless nodded, "And I share the perspective. But you're in the middle of a swarm of their influence. What would you do if the 'loths found out where you are?"
The Shator smirked and cracked the knuckles on his left hand, "I'd make certain that their informant was slaughtered and their heart delivered to Agathys in a goblet made of a silver-plated 'loth's skull."
Clueless inwardly blanched. So much for telling him the truth. 'Hi there Xideous, one of the lords of Gehenna is probably looking at you right now...' No. That wouldn't work.
"Are you certain that you're safe in Sigil?"
Xideous snorted. "I've been here since two years before the Faction War, seven years, and in all that time I haven't been disturbed once. The 'loths would have burned the Gatehouse to the ground along with everyone inside if they even suspected that I was inside."
Clueless looked away for a moment. He wasn't taking the hint.
"Is it still safe here given the recent upheaval among the 'loths?" He asked. "The new Oinoloth is more proactive, and we know for a fact that the Marauder at least has significantly more power under the current order than before. The atmosphere in Sigil hasn't been healthy for their enemies. They've tried to kill us a few times, and though it's been a while now, you'll remember when they killed the former high executioner for the Mercykillers."
"And they haven't in all that time even sent a single agent into the Gatehouse, despite having a network of them crawling across the Hive." Xideous explained, not showing much concern. "I won't claim to know each and every stooge on their payroll, or blackmailed into servitude in some capacity, but I don't feel it's a risk."
"What I'm saying is that we've had far too many dealings with the 'loths here in the city." Clueless said, trying to still hint to the shator without overtly saying it. "The place is crawling with them, or people loyal to them. I don't..."
Xideous waved off his concern. "Trust my judgment in this mortal. I've been here where I am for long enough to observe the dynamics of the city. If you must know, I have a large number of the former Bleakers affected by a permanents mindspider of sorts, and I'll be well aware of anyone looking for me before they could do anything. If I have to leave, I have contingent plans."
It wasn't going to work. And Clueless wasn't going to tell him the truth, because the truth was that he was doomed.
***
Outside in the hallway, the group stood and speculated on what had held Clueless behind.
"No, I don't like him keeping secrets from me." Tristol said with a frown. "It's annoying to no end."
"He's like that." Fyrehowl said with a shrug.
"Annoying?" Nisha asked. "I wouldn't say..."
The lupinal chuckled and shook her head, "I meant he can be secretive."
"All the time though." Tristol complained, ears flat against his head. "He's like that all the time and it's getting to be seriously annoying."
Toras sighed and gave a shrug. "It is, but it hasn't been malicious on his part. He's had good reason and decent intentions behind it."
"But it doesn't make me feel like he trusts his friends as much as he could when he doesn't tell us about things that are incredibly important."
"Then ask him when he's finished talking with the 'leth." Florian said. "Tell him that it's important, tell him how you feel. Just don't let it build up. I mean..."
Florian paused abruptly and stared over Fyrehowl's shoulder at the barred window looking into ex-factol Tollysalmon's cell. There'd been nothing but darkness there only a moment before, but suddenly, without actually seeing any movement, the ex-factol was standing there immediately behind the bars, staring at them.
The githyanki's face was a sallow shade of mottled gray, made sickly and gaunt by her incarceration. A few strands of knotted hair hung past her face and though her expression was almost entirely blank, there was the faintest, enigmatic hint of amusement, though her eyes were a solid, iris-less black.
"Sh*t!" Florian shouted as she jerked back a few feet, followed almost immediately by a similar scramble from her companions.
And then, just as quick as she'd appeared, the githyanki factol vanished back into the shadows.
"You can't stop it..." A hissing, trailing whisper echoed from the cell and inside their heads at once.
The group was twenty feet away in the space of a few seconds, clustered back at the stairs and as far away from the mad bleakers as they could get and still be within view of where Clueless would exit after he was finished with Xideous. They hadn't been intending to eavesdrop on the Shator and the bladesinger, though in retrospect the appearance of such wouldn't have been a wise thing to present, but the ex-factols were unsettling. Tessali was perfectly justified in his worry regarding those madmen, and just like him, they simply didn't want to be anywhere near them.
Fyrehowl hadn't felt anything; she hadn't heard the woman's footsteps, or her breathing. Nothing. She'd just been there. Either she wasn't a threat at all, or the Cadence hadn't felt her, or maybe a bit of both. The cipher wasn't certain anymore than she understand what the gith had whispered to them, assuming it was anything more than the ramblings of insanity.
Nisha broke the silence, jerking her tail to point back down the hall. "So now that we're away from factol spooky, anyone want to speculate what Clueless is doing in there?"
Toras rolled his eyes, "The fiend?"
"Huh?" Skalliska asked, clearly confused. In fact it was the first time that she'd said anything the whole time. The kobold's mind was fixated on something else entirely.
"You know..."
"Huh?" Skalliska asked again.
Toras slapped his hands together rhythmically. "You know..."
"Toras!" Florian exclaimed, blushing.
"Well that's what he did with the Manged back in Carceri! Kinda. Sorta. And for all I know the Marauder probably screwed his brains out too. He's got a record of this you know."
Nisha was giggling and blushing, the tips of Tristol's ears were red, and Fyrehowl shook her head.
"That's absolutely disgusting." Florian said. "Please Toras, don't go into detail. I'd like to keep my mind from remembering those episodes."
"Apparently manifest Evil finds him hot!" Toras said, continuing his inappropriate line of joking. "Or maybe he finds Evil hot. I dunno. He screwed the freaking Manged. I'm immune to disease and even I'm going there. So pardon me for speculating on the next one in line."
Xideous's cell door swung open and Clueless walked back to rejoin the group. The conversation quickly died away once they heard his footsteps and the heavy slam of the gehreleth's cell door sliding shut, but he heard enough to know what they were talking and joking about. He didn't say anything, or acknowledge that he'd heard them, but the comments hurt.
Nothing of the sort had happened with the 'leth -the very idea was repulsive to him- and he'd stayed behind to speak out of a desire to save its life and keep him as an ally. He'd had good intentions and his friends were making jokes about him f*cking it.
Clueless looked away and frowned. When he finally bottled up his feelings and turned back to his companions he managed to hold his tongue and hold their questions at bay. Tristol likewise didn't mention his feelings on the topic, though in truth, soon enough they'd be irrelevant.
***
When they left the Gatehouse and wandered back through the Hive and into the Clerk's Ward, back to the Portal Jammer, the sky was thick with smog and haze, already beginning to darken as the city slipped further and further from Peak and its modicum of daylight. From across the ring of the city, lights could already be seen like erstwhile stars dotting the dusk, props for Sigil's play of night, each slowly being dragged out from the city's backstage.
Despite Sigil's trappings of filth and age, and the Hive's unique stench, the burgeoning night seemed tinged with a positive note as they walked back home. They'd managed in the past week to have the yugoloth overlord of Carceri pulled off of their backs, and by virtue of their actions against her, they'd attracted the attentions of a powerful ally. Yes it was another fiend, but even if they had to metaphorically rob Peter to pay Paul, simply on a practical level they could dirty their hands if it meant empowering themselves alongside another enemy of the 'loths.
That was the predominant feeling at least. Clueless though felt remarkably different. As much as he tried to put on a show of attitude similar to the others, he knew what was going to happen. It was only a question of when. Xideous was a marked man.
But Clueless and his hidden feelings were not for the moment a shared anchorstone dragging on the hearts of his companions, and once they arrived back at the Portal Jammer, there was an impromptu round of drinks free on the house to those customers who were there for a late dinner or an evening drink. No explanation was given, and the regulars happily accepted the free liquor without pressing the issue, but the owners were clearly excited about something as they passed out the drinks, took their own and retired to the private room in the back of the inn.
Well, again, most of them were.
Skalliska had vanished back to her room with something clearly on her mind as far as her companions were aware, but it didn't seem as if anything was terribly amiss. Whatever it was they'd find out eventually they figured, but it couldn't be anything bad, and they didn't let to sully their mood.
Clueless was drinking sure enough, but for an entirely different reason. There was no celebration when he raised his glass, and there was no happiness to be found in the bottom as a mug, just the bitter taste of the dregs on the tip of his tongue to match his mood.
"To Xideous." The bladesinger said, raising his glass in a toast.
"To Xideous and to us." The response from the others came.
Celebration? It felt like a wake.
"Here's to screwing the 'loths over!" Florian called out, raising her glass.
"getting Here's to drunk!" Nisha shouted, slipping into scramblespeak, having kept up in volume with the others despite being significantly lighter.
Tristol delicately took away her drink and gave her a kiss.
"Here's to still skeptical lupinals." Fyrehowl said. "I'm excited but we'll see how this goes. Fiends are fiends still I suppose."
Florian nudged her, "Don't break the mood 'hun."
"I suppose not." The cipher replied. "Call it a feeling I suppose. But what the heck, I don't want to be a downer, so... here's to us and here's to drinking!"
"wOHoo XoAs!" Nisha countered drunkenly.
Another twenty minutes of celebration more and Clueless couldn't handle the difference in mood through the room compared to how he truly felt.
"Guys?" The bladesinger asked. "I'm feeling a bit tired, maybe a little out of it from everything that happened today. So if you don't mind, I'm going to be going to bed early tonight. I'll see you all in the morning."
Florian nodded, "Don't worry about it."
"You sure?" He questioned. "You won't mind handling closing time?"
Not at all. It wouldn't be a problem at all was the response. The mood was too good to care. Clueless's mind was clouding with guilt when he walked up the stairs to his room, and his heart was heavy when he finally, fitfully fell asleep an hour later, dreading the likely call of some fiendish psychopomp on its way to the gatehouse.
The others called an end to the evening eventually, retiring to their own rooms to sleep or study or pray, ignorant of that looming nightingale on the horizon calling out its song to the tune of 'loth.
***
"Hello Toras..."
Sitting on his bed, reciting from a book of prayers, the fighter cringed and slowly turned around to a voice that was immediately recognizable.
Hovering next to the window, turned to look out into the street was the quasi-illusory projection of the Cheshire Fiend. As always, the fiend's avatar was smiling, shedding a bright white glow across Toras's room to dwarf the normal light from the street and his own reading lamp on the table.
"It's a beautiful night tonight." The fiend said, unreadable in tone, still looking out the window. "Wouldn't you agree?"
Toras didn't have a clue what to think, either about the Grin's comment or about his very presence. The last time they'd had any dealings with him, while they hadn't been harmed, they'd been used like puppets of convenience, and there was still some distrust and animosity regarding that. Truth be told, the Cheshire Fiend's loyalties and motivations were still as entirely inscrutable as they'd ever been, and while he'd nominally advanced the cause of the current Oinoloth prior to his ascension, all indications were that in true 'loth form he was ultimately loyal to the only thing that mattered to him: him.
Toras looked at the fiend's avatar but didn't reply. He crossed his arms and waited for the illusion to say something worth responding to.
"Did I say something to offend?" The glowing grin turned a bit to either side and then down, like he were staring at a body he didn't have, looking for something awkward in what he'd worn.
"Not yet I suppose." Toras replied.
It grinned wider. That might have been good, it might have been a horrible omen. Toras wasn't sure.
Burningspear
First Post
Clueless said:
hehe, i second that
just to show i am still here and reading...
Shemeska
Adventurer
Tal Rasha said:
They didn't know about Helekanalaith's hate-on for the author of the Book of Keeping revision, and till they were already inside talking to Xideous, Clueless didn't know about that he was who he was. The rest of the party wasn't aware of how much, or how active, Helekanalaith's observations were.
Mostly he wasn't doing much, but certain things likely triggered his attention, and a gehreleth, especially a shator, would be one of those.
For various reasons the PCs didn't consider it a major risk at the time they went to talk to the 'leth. Memory lapse is probably partially to blame, but the other players weren't heavily privy to the specifics of the Keeper's window into Clueless's mind.
