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Story Hour
Shemeska's Planescape Storyhour (Updated 29 Jan 2014)
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<blockquote data-quote="Shemeska" data-source="post: 2813364" data-attributes="member: 11697"><p>Much has transpired in the recent past across the whole of Sigil’s social scene, events that ultimately of course led to my interest in your own inn, and my recent visit. </p><p></p><p>You can only imagine my shock and dismay at the events of the past month that occurred in the establishment of your rivals at The Twelve Factols. Dreadful business that was, and with a ring of irony about it too. To think a highly respected, and upper class inn, tavern and gambling hall such as they would allow an adventuring band of drunken Glorium dwarves onto their premises and on top of that provide them with further alcohol and bawdry entertainment that ended up causing a liquor induced riot. I happened to be in that section of the Ward the next morning and I simply had to stop by to see the after effects.</p><p></p><p>I nearly soiled my feet by stepping into a puddle of urine left by one of the dwarves who was passed out upon the doorstep of the inn, and in fact I had to levitate within the building to avoid stepping in that and even worse detritus upon the floor. The sour smell of stale, spilt alcohol burned my nose, among other worse smells I can assure you.</p><p></p><p>Simply dreadful that such could happen to a well respected establishment such as the 12 Factols. I must say they’ve lost some of my respect following this, and I’ll likely turn my esteemed patronage elsewhere. After all, those places that I tend to frequent must keep themselves to a high standard for my enjoyment and benefit I deserve, and in turn they benefit by my business and association with them.</p><p></p><p>That said, during my brief visit to the Portal Jammer, I noticed a good number of traits that your own establishment has that pique my interest, but more so a good number that it lacks. Thus, here are my recommendations of changes to the menu, alcohol listing, decorum and other such accoutrements your inn could benefit from.</p><p></p><p></p><p><u>Décor:</u> </p><p></p><p>Nicer furniture is needed, especially open backed chairs for those patrons with tails or extended abdomens such as Formians or Gelugons. That’s one point I really did notice, despite having no tail myself. Though I could if I thought it might improve my figure, but then again, how could you improve upon my figure? I chuckle at the very idea.</p><p></p><p> Beyond that, the main taproom could use more padding and cushioning on the chairs, more light and more space between the current tables. Candles might help at the tables, as well as some more magical lighting, and use either white light or reddish, my personal favorites anyways.</p><p> </p><p>And while the force walls are a very nice touch, the magical protections on the building are rather pitiful. And really, who can’t scry into that attempted safe room in the rear of the tavern? I roll my eyes at whoever cast those spells. I do hope you didn’t pay for it. If you’d like I can suggest several mages in the city who could do a much better job, assuming you care to part with the jink they take to hire.</p><p> </p><p>And do change the color of the glass in the largest window in the taproom, something with a pale tint to it.</p><p> </p><p>And the rooms could use better quality sheets, plumper pillows, and more amenities for discriminating clients.</p><p> </p><p>Have you thought about renting out the back chamber from the main taproom to business clients? That would certainly defray some of the costs to upgrade the inn.</p><p></p><p></p><p><u>Wines and Liquors: </u></p><p></p><p>Your establishment does have some nicer and more palatable lower and middle end alcohols, but you do tend to lack a selection of finer wines and spirits, especially of the lower planar variety. And a touch of home is deeply appreciated by myself.</p><p></p><p>Kytonish Malbolge Brandy</p><p></p><p>Gehennan Grasshopper (lava poured over a living Grasshopper and vodka)</p><p></p><p>Pluton wines of most any variety, except for Hag spirits, they are simply dreadful, much like the hags that brew them.</p><p></p><p>The Marauder’s Mirth (my own drink, recently improved. 3 parts Scotch (lower planar origin*), 2 parts Razorvine sap, 1 part pureed Hordeling pineal gland (Grey Waste petitioner), and 1 part Carcerian lemon peel)</p><p></p><p>*None of that Bytopian swill, too light and far too often blessed in some manner. If I wanted to hurt myself, there’s more enjoyable ways than all but lighting my throat on fire in the process of getting drunk.</p><p></p><p></p><p><u>Entertainment:</u></p><p></p><p>I would very much suggest you never again have those dreadful Bleakers recite their poetry and play their airborne filth that passes for music again. More so, live music of a better variety would be appreciated. NO TANAR’RI COMPOSERS. Tanar’ri are really only good for one thing, much like certain Eladrin, but I doubt you have the space in your establishment for the proper rooms to be set aside for such carnal pleasures. Besides, there’s enough competition for such within the Clerks Ward already, no use in engaging in a useless expenditure. Some animated instruments even would add a touch of background music, but only have that during later business hours, not during the course of the day, and never before peak.</p><p></p><p></p><p><u>Food:</u></p><p></p><p> And the food… where to begin... You need to have your cooking staff drawn and quartered. I can actually suggest a few Baatezu and even a Yugoloth or two that could do that for you cheap, or even free if you don’t mind more of a mess in the last case.</p><p></p><p> Suffice to say, the food leaves much to be desired. The menu is small, bland, and doesn’t have any of the sweetmeats and delicacies I’m used to finding on the menus of similar establishments. </p><p></p><p> Daily specials are good, but it makes you seem like you’re just serving whatever you could buy cheap that morning just before it would have spoiled in the great bazaar. More deserts to go with an expanded selection of cognac and dry, sweet wines, as well as some delicacies like living food, pickled larvae steaks and select cuts from the same. And if you really want to start a rage and draw in business, serve some more exotic meats. Aquatic elf comes to mind, though I hear that Drow slow cooked in dilute spider venom has a tangy, smoky flavor as well. I had the chance recently to try that dish and I highly recommend it.</p><p></p><p> If nothing else try to get some more exotic, and decidedly non-sentient outlands varieties of edible meats such of Khaasta, Quill, and Leomarsh. Bebelith eggs are quite nice with a dash of cinnamon, lemon, and brown sugar. Either raw or poached. But I’m sure you can find some decent cooks within Sigil to pry away from other better tasting kitchens across the wards.</p><p></p><p> Good luck implementing my suggestions and better sense of taste, hopefully money isn’t an issue in all of them. I’ll have to make a point of stopping by in the near future to judge how you’re doing.</p><p></p><p>Love and platitudes,</p><p><a href="http://arcanofox.foxpaws.net/ShemmyLetterSig.jpg" target="_blank">Shemeska the Marauder</a></p><p></p><p></p><p style="text-align: center">***</p><p></p><p></p><p> “Clueless?” Toras asked. “Can you replace one of the front windows with plate glass again?”</p><p></p><p> “Why?” The bladesinger asked cautiously.</p><p></p><p> “Because I’m gonna put her through one of them.”</p><p></p><p> Florian chuckled.</p><p></p><p> “She’s going through a window…” Toras repeated.</p><p></p><p> “It <u>is</u> good advice though.” Florian said. “Sure she’s a vile, hellish b*tch of a godless abomination, but there was some good advice in there.”</p><p></p><p> “Good advice under a pissy, self-serving pretence however.” Clueless said. “She’s going to visit again…”</p><p></p><p> “About those windows?” Toras asked again.</p><p></p><p> Clueless waved his hands. “She’s going to be judging us on just how much we cater to her whims, which means her suggestions in the letter.”</p><p></p><p> “But they’re not all that bad.” Florian reiterated. “We can leave out some of the cr*p she snuck in there and just go with the sensible ones. We can see if some of the things specific to her can be done easily, and if so, we’ll humor her. If we do a decent job of not pissing her off, we might get advertisement.”</p><p></p><p> “Maybe…” Toras said.</p><p></p><p> “She’s going to show up anyhow.” Florian argued. “We might as well pacify her and get what we can out of it.”</p><p></p><p> “What has she ever done for us?” Toras deadpanned.</p><p></p><p> Clueless narrowed his eyes, inwardly seethed and grit his teeth.</p><p></p><p> “Trashed the 12 Factols?” The cleric suggested. “What? You think it’s random that they were threatening us with legal action and all of a sudden a bunch of drunken dwarves flash mob their place a day or so after Miz Fuzzy just happens to mention it all.”</p><p></p><p> Toras shrugged.</p><p></p><p> “Of course the b*tch had their place trashed!” Florian said. “And I’m happy she did! I can’t stand that uppity bastard who owned the place! He deserved it.”</p><p></p><p> “She was showing off, not doing us a favor.” Toras complained.</p><p></p><p> “We can make a show of stroking her ego.” Florian said. “Yes it’ll be painful to smile and take the abuse, but it’s the best we can manage at the moment.”</p><p></p><p> “<em>Better than having to stroke anything else of hers…</em>” Clueless thought to himself.</p><p></p><p> “Make the best of a bad situation.” Florian continued. “We can at least get her off our backs for the moment. We have more important things to worry about than her.”</p><p></p><p> They were still bickering over just how to respond to the Marauder’s letter and ‘suggestions’ when Tristol walked down into the taproom, somewhat dressed up, and on his way out apparently. There was something to the way he was moving too. Not quite a spring in his step, not quite nervousness, but a little of both.</p><p></p><p> “Where are you headed out to?” Florian asked.</p><p></p><p> “And why all dressed up?” Clueless said.</p><p></p><p> The aasimar paused and looked at the others who were now of course all staring at him.</p><p></p><p> “What?” He asked.</p><p></p><p> “You’re nervous and you’re dressed nice.” Florian said. “What’s up?”</p><p></p><p> Tristol blushed slightly. “Well… I’m taking Nisha out for dinner.”</p><p></p><p> Clueless raised an eyebrow and gave him a quick once-over look.</p><p></p><p> “I offered to treat her for dinner anywhere in the city.” Tristol said, still blushing. “And she said yes.”</p><p></p><p> He smiled and quickly excused himself, eager to be on his way. But the moment the door closed and he was out of earshot, there was a distinct and prolonged, “Awwwww…”</p><p></p><p></p><p style="text-align: center">***</p><p></p><p></p><p> Nisha was giggling slightly at the random blush that seemed to manifest every so often at the tips of Tristol’s ears. The mage was some curious mixture of nerves and smiles as he sat across the table from the tiefling, who despite her giggles at his mood was feeling much the same as him, with her tail twitching to and fro behind her chair.</p><p></p><p> “This is a really nice place you picked out Nisha.” Tristol said as the waiter, an elven-descended aasimar, poured them both a glass of wine.</p><p></p><p> “It’s out of the way.” She replied. “Cozy really. And the food’s just as good as anything you’d find in the Lady’s Ward, just without the people from the Lady’s Ward ruining the experience.”</p><p></p><p> The restaurant, a tiny little out of the way place nestled in the Clerk’s Ward, was known as the ‘Cutter’s Vineyard’. It was a play on words really, since the restaurant itself was in the middle of a group of smaller buildings that had been intentionally allowed to become overgrown with razorvine. The dining area was on the rooftop, framed by vineyard type latticework covered in snarls of the abyssal plant, an elegant place with the contrast of a vineyard for Cutters and vines very capable of slashing a berk to ribbons.</p><p></p><p> “You’ve got good taste.” Tristol said. “There’s a reason I suggested that you pick the restaurant and I’d pick up the tab. Well, multiple reasons really.”</p><p></p><p> Nisha grinned.</p><p></p><p> “It’s as good as anything in the Lady’s Ward.” She repeated. “We even get fancy bits of razorvine without any fiends wearing them.”</p><p></p><p> Tristol laughed as Nisha made a face in mockery of the razorvine crowned King herself.</p><p></p><p> “I swear…” Tristol said. “If I’m lucky to ever come to know half the little spots in Sigil, good, bad, or otherwise that you seem to know like the back of your hand, I’ll count myself in good shape.”</p><p></p><p> “You’ve been in Sigil for what? Less than a year?” The tiefling prodded, tapping a finger on the table. “You’ve officially shed any Clueless Prime designation you ever had.”</p><p></p><p> “Well, that’s certainly a positive thing.” He replied. “I’m glad I’ve gotten better.”</p><p></p><p> “You should have seen yourself the first time I met you.” Nisha said with a chuckle. “All wide eyed, nervous… like a modron in Limbo…”</p><p></p><p> Tristol raised an eyebrow and grinning. “And if I recall correctly, you almost fell off a roof the first time I met you.”</p><p></p><p> “It was slippery…” Nisha replied. “And though nobody saw it up there, there was… a… glabrezu… with a grease spell… yes, exactly! That’s why I almost fell. Yes…”</p><p></p><p> Tristol laughed as Nisha’s tail twitched, rattling its bell.</p><p></p><p> “Anyways, you did fill out the paperwork for shedding your ‘Clueless Prime’ designation yes?” Nisha asked with as straight of a face as she could muster.</p><p></p><p> Tristol paused and tilted his head sideways. “Say what?”</p><p></p><p> “Yeah, the paperwork for those sorts of things.” Nisha said. “Very important. And you know how I am with dotting my I’s and crossing my T’s on all things official and all such. There’s a tax if you haven’t filled it out.”</p><p></p><p> “A tax?”</p><p></p><p> “Yeah, I think you have to pay for dessert too!” She said with a wink.</p><p></p><p> They giggled some more and reminisced a bit over their first experiences together when they were being blackmailed by Bartol Trenevain and his dubious masters. The nostalgia was pleasant, despite some of the circumstances that it had involved, and the honestly short period of time that had elapsed since.</p><p></p><p> But dinner soon arrived and there was a momentary lull in conversation, replaced with a clatter of silverware on china and pleasant murmurs of appreciation at the food. In between bits of chicken, mouthfuls of salad greens or chunks of bread there were glances and smiles between them both.</p><p></p><p> There was certainly something there between them, but also the uncertainty that was always a prelude to something beyond friendship, perched there on the windowsill of intimacy as a bit of a stumbling block, waiting for one person or the other to make the bold first step.</p><p></p><p> “So…” Nisha said, dabbing her chin with her napkin. “What do you think about me?</p><p></p><p> Behind him, Tristol’s tail poofed out slightly.</p><p></p><p> “Well…” He said, trying to avoid coughing on the piece of food he’d awkwardly swallowed. “I like you a lot.”</p><p></p><p> “That’s not descriptive.” Nisha quipped back. “And you’ll have your turn to do the same. Be blunt.”</p><p></p><p> “You’re spontaneous.” Tristol said almost immediately. “You’re a free spirit, and you seem to really have found yourself a niche in life.”</p><p></p><p> Nisha grinned. “I can accept that I think.”</p><p></p><p> “Now I know that Skalliska and Toras have called you crazy before…”</p><p></p><p> Nisha stuck out her tongue and smiled.</p><p></p><p> “But I prefer to think of you as whimsical.”</p><p></p><p> “Not bad… Not bad…” Nisha said, mulling over the descriptors in her mind.</p><p></p><p> “My turn now.” Tristol said. “What do you think about me?”</p><p></p><p> “I think you’re cute.” She replied.</p><p></p><p> “Cute?” Tristol asked, one ear twitching. “Not the first thing I’d think to describe myself as.”</p><p></p><p> “Oh sure, argue with me…” Nisha replied with a smile, reaching across the table and tapping Tristol’s hand. “I think you’re cute.”</p><p></p><p> “Anything else?”</p><p></p><p> “Hmm…” She pondered for a moment. “You’ve got a head for magic, and I really like that too. You’re really talented.”</p><p></p><p> “I like magic, though on another level it came with expectations.” He said. “Home was all about magic and nothing much else. It’s both good and bad in different ways.”</p><p></p><p> “You’ll have to tell me about where you grew up sometime then.” She said, perching her head on her elbows. “You’ve mentioned Halruaa before, and it sounds pretty exotic, and certainly different from where I grew up.”</p><p></p><p> The last statement came with her tail idly gesturing in multiple directions, up, down, left, right, Sigil itself.</p><p></p><p> “I wouldn’t call Sigil something other than exotic now.” Tristol said. “Halruaa was an interesting place, but it doesn’t compare to a fraction of what happens in Sigil on a daily basis. Mages everywhere in Halruaa, but hardly anyone ever visits because they’re paranoid about their magic being exposed to anyone on the outside. So day in day out you don’t have much anything different.”</p><p></p><p> “I wasn’t always able to appreciate Sigil in the same way though.” Nisha replied. “The Hive never really gave much luxury for a good chunk of my life. I was more concerned about eating and staying safe than sightseeing. I’m jaded to the place with the best of them.”</p><p></p><p> Tristol nodded. “But you’ve done well for yourself in every way.”</p><p></p><p> Nisha shrugged.</p><p></p><p> “And you even managed to learn magic along the way too.” Tristol added. “How did you actually manage that?”</p><p></p><p> “There’s a story behind that of course.” She said with a grin. “And I only know a little magic, so let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”</p><p></p><p> “Still, you’re a wizard nonetheless.”</p><p></p><p> She held up a finger to correct him. “Technically I’m a wild mage.”</p><p></p><p> One of Tristol’s ears twitched. “So…”</p><p></p><p> “Yep! Every time I cast a spell there’s a random chance of a wild surge!”</p><p></p><p> Tristol went for his wine rather abruptly and downed the remainder of the glass.</p><p></p><p> “Aren’t you glad that you’re the one casting most of the magic and leaving the sneaky stuff to me and Skalliska?” Nisha asked with a perky grin.</p><p></p><p> “I’m glad that you’re good at what you do.” Tristol said, eyes blurry from the quick shot of alcohol.</p><p></p><p> “I’ll learn more magic at some point.” Nisha said. “I might even ask you to teach me.”</p><p></p><p> “I’d be happy to do so, though we might have some differences in how we cast certain things.”</p><p></p><p> “I’ll get around to it eventually.” Nisha said with a shrug. “I’m just not one for sitting down and studying. It’s a bit too ordered for me.”</p><p></p><p> “You seem to very happily embrace Chaos.” Tristol replied. “And speaking of which, you’ll have to tell me about the Xaositects some time.”</p><p></p><p> “They’re oh so fun…” She said. “When the time’s right I might take you to meet some of them that I hang around with when I just vanish from the inn every so often.”</p><p></p><p> “Is that a threat or a promise?” Tristol asked with a grin. “They have an interesting reputation suffice to say.”</p><p></p><p> “-I- have an interesting reputation.” She replied. “Just ask Toras or Skalliska. Yet you still asked me out to dinner tonight.”</p><p></p><p> Nisha held up a finger dabbed in gravy and grinned.</p><p></p><p> “You have a point.” Tristol said, moments before he had a dab of said gravy on the tip of his nose.</p><p></p><p> “And you have gravy on your nose.” Nisha giggled.</p><p></p><p> Tristol dabbed himself with his napkin and chuckled. The tiefling was impulsive, that was for certain. But soon enough, dessert arrived and they both smiled and nibbled at the pastries and custard, quite enamored with the course of the evening and happily warmed emotionally.</p><p></p><p> “I have to ask one thing.” Tristol said, poking his fork at a bit of apple pie. “What have you been up to with Amberblue the past day or two?”</p><p></p><p> The bell on the tip of Nisha’s tail rattled.</p><p></p><p> “You’re grinning.” Tristol said. “And I’ve noticed that you have the habit of jingling that bell whenever you’re up to something.”</p><p></p><p> “Usually.” She corrected him with a grin fit for a chaos imp.</p><p></p><p> “Usually?”</p><p></p><p> “I just do that sometimes to break any pattern and keep people on their toes.” She replied. “What? You expect me to be predictable?”</p><p></p><p> Tristol chuckled and shook his head.</p><p></p><p> “No, not really, though I can hope for close guessing on my part.”</p><p></p><p> Nisha was giggling again.</p><p></p><p> “Trust me.” She said. “You’ll find out what I’ve been up to with Amberblue. Nothing explosive, not this time, and nothing illegal.”</p><p></p><p> “Well that’s good.” He replied. “A relief actually. But you’ve got me even more curious now.”</p><p></p><p> “That’s the point silly…”</p><p></p><p> Nisha didn’t relent on that though, only telling him that he’d find out, that he’d enjoy it, and above all, it’d keep the faerie dragon from conjuring even more apples into the Portal Jammer. That seemed to pacify him, and the once again lapsed into talking about their views on various subjects, their likes and dislikes, and other things as they nibbled at dessert.</p><p></p><p> When they were finished, and Tristol had left a very generous tip, they walked back out to the street below. They were more than just smiling and comfortable as they left the Cutter’s Vineyard, they were emotionally giddy. He’d enjoyed their dinner together and so had she. Despite their differences they really did make a curiously appropriate pair, a cute couple to any passersby.</p><p></p><p> Of course, the karmic wheel of the multiverse was much more apt to turn when given a little nudge.</p><p></p><p>It didn’t have to wait long though, as it was only a few blocks later on the way back to the Portal Jammer when Nisha leaned in and gave Tristol a kiss.</p><p></p><p></p><p style="text-align: center">***</p><p></p><p></p><p> Back in his room, Clueless opened a window, conjured an extra light and opened the book that Tristol had somehow managed to obtain a copy of.</p><p></p><p> “Magic and Antimagic – Karsus of Eileanar” Clueless said, letting his tongue wander over the title of the book.</p><p></p><p> Despite the apparent rarity of the tome, which according to Tristol was originally written thousands of years ago, the book that now lay open on the table in front of him was in remarkable condition. Though small segments of the book seemed to have been repeatedly and obsessively perused at some point in the past, the majority of the pages were virtually as crisp as the day that they had been first set within the binding.</p><p></p><p> “How the hell did you manage to find a copy of this Tristol?”</p><p></p><p> The aasimar had never actually mentioned where he had found a copy. He’d simply vanished for an afternoon and come back to the inn with the heavy book and a pleasant smile upon his face, smelling of the distinctive reek of the Lower Ward.</p><p></p><p> “Apparently A’kin has his claws on more than just oddities.” Clueless said with a bit of a whistle. “I knew he was talented, and he carried all sorts of stuff that wasn’t on public display, but this? This is more than I’d have expected out of him.”</p><p></p><p> Be it a random, a fluke of chance, storm clouds of some dark providence, or the twisted turn of some karmic Wheel, something stirred in the bladesinger’s mind. Something opened its eyes and looked out of his, something that had last done so in a pique of malignant curiosity on Carceri’s layer of Cathrys. That time had been brief: a moment’s glimpse across the planes to peer out through a window of flesh and spirit, a periscope of will and want boring through the fragile membranes of its mortal host but for a short time before once more lapsing into quiescence.</p><p></p><p> This time was different.</p><p></p><p> This time it would make its presence known.</p><p></p><p></p><p style="text-align: center">***</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Shemeska, post: 2813364, member: 11697"] Much has transpired in the recent past across the whole of Sigil’s social scene, events that ultimately of course led to my interest in your own inn, and my recent visit. You can only imagine my shock and dismay at the events of the past month that occurred in the establishment of your rivals at The Twelve Factols. Dreadful business that was, and with a ring of irony about it too. To think a highly respected, and upper class inn, tavern and gambling hall such as they would allow an adventuring band of drunken Glorium dwarves onto their premises and on top of that provide them with further alcohol and bawdry entertainment that ended up causing a liquor induced riot. I happened to be in that section of the Ward the next morning and I simply had to stop by to see the after effects. I nearly soiled my feet by stepping into a puddle of urine left by one of the dwarves who was passed out upon the doorstep of the inn, and in fact I had to levitate within the building to avoid stepping in that and even worse detritus upon the floor. The sour smell of stale, spilt alcohol burned my nose, among other worse smells I can assure you. Simply dreadful that such could happen to a well respected establishment such as the 12 Factols. I must say they’ve lost some of my respect following this, and I’ll likely turn my esteemed patronage elsewhere. After all, those places that I tend to frequent must keep themselves to a high standard for my enjoyment and benefit I deserve, and in turn they benefit by my business and association with them. That said, during my brief visit to the Portal Jammer, I noticed a good number of traits that your own establishment has that pique my interest, but more so a good number that it lacks. Thus, here are my recommendations of changes to the menu, alcohol listing, decorum and other such accoutrements your inn could benefit from. [u]Décor:[/u] Nicer furniture is needed, especially open backed chairs for those patrons with tails or extended abdomens such as Formians or Gelugons. That’s one point I really did notice, despite having no tail myself. Though I could if I thought it might improve my figure, but then again, how could you improve upon my figure? I chuckle at the very idea. Beyond that, the main taproom could use more padding and cushioning on the chairs, more light and more space between the current tables. Candles might help at the tables, as well as some more magical lighting, and use either white light or reddish, my personal favorites anyways. And while the force walls are a very nice touch, the magical protections on the building are rather pitiful. And really, who can’t scry into that attempted safe room in the rear of the tavern? I roll my eyes at whoever cast those spells. I do hope you didn’t pay for it. If you’d like I can suggest several mages in the city who could do a much better job, assuming you care to part with the jink they take to hire. And do change the color of the glass in the largest window in the taproom, something with a pale tint to it. And the rooms could use better quality sheets, plumper pillows, and more amenities for discriminating clients. Have you thought about renting out the back chamber from the main taproom to business clients? That would certainly defray some of the costs to upgrade the inn. [u]Wines and Liquors: [/u] Your establishment does have some nicer and more palatable lower and middle end alcohols, but you do tend to lack a selection of finer wines and spirits, especially of the lower planar variety. And a touch of home is deeply appreciated by myself. Kytonish Malbolge Brandy Gehennan Grasshopper (lava poured over a living Grasshopper and vodka) Pluton wines of most any variety, except for Hag spirits, they are simply dreadful, much like the hags that brew them. The Marauder’s Mirth (my own drink, recently improved. 3 parts Scotch (lower planar origin*), 2 parts Razorvine sap, 1 part pureed Hordeling pineal gland (Grey Waste petitioner), and 1 part Carcerian lemon peel) *None of that Bytopian swill, too light and far too often blessed in some manner. If I wanted to hurt myself, there’s more enjoyable ways than all but lighting my throat on fire in the process of getting drunk. [u]Entertainment:[/u] I would very much suggest you never again have those dreadful Bleakers recite their poetry and play their airborne filth that passes for music again. More so, live music of a better variety would be appreciated. NO TANAR’RI COMPOSERS. Tanar’ri are really only good for one thing, much like certain Eladrin, but I doubt you have the space in your establishment for the proper rooms to be set aside for such carnal pleasures. Besides, there’s enough competition for such within the Clerks Ward already, no use in engaging in a useless expenditure. Some animated instruments even would add a touch of background music, but only have that during later business hours, not during the course of the day, and never before peak. [u]Food:[/u] And the food… where to begin... You need to have your cooking staff drawn and quartered. I can actually suggest a few Baatezu and even a Yugoloth or two that could do that for you cheap, or even free if you don’t mind more of a mess in the last case. Suffice to say, the food leaves much to be desired. The menu is small, bland, and doesn’t have any of the sweetmeats and delicacies I’m used to finding on the menus of similar establishments. Daily specials are good, but it makes you seem like you’re just serving whatever you could buy cheap that morning just before it would have spoiled in the great bazaar. More deserts to go with an expanded selection of cognac and dry, sweet wines, as well as some delicacies like living food, pickled larvae steaks and select cuts from the same. And if you really want to start a rage and draw in business, serve some more exotic meats. Aquatic elf comes to mind, though I hear that Drow slow cooked in dilute spider venom has a tangy, smoky flavor as well. I had the chance recently to try that dish and I highly recommend it. If nothing else try to get some more exotic, and decidedly non-sentient outlands varieties of edible meats such of Khaasta, Quill, and Leomarsh. Bebelith eggs are quite nice with a dash of cinnamon, lemon, and brown sugar. Either raw or poached. But I’m sure you can find some decent cooks within Sigil to pry away from other better tasting kitchens across the wards. Good luck implementing my suggestions and better sense of taste, hopefully money isn’t an issue in all of them. I’ll have to make a point of stopping by in the near future to judge how you’re doing. Love and platitudes, [url=http://arcanofox.foxpaws.net/ShemmyLetterSig.jpg]Shemeska the Marauder[/url] [center]***[/center] “Clueless?” Toras asked. “Can you replace one of the front windows with plate glass again?” “Why?” The bladesinger asked cautiously. “Because I’m gonna put her through one of them.” Florian chuckled. “She’s going through a window…” Toras repeated. “It [u]is[/u] good advice though.” Florian said. “Sure she’s a vile, hellish b*tch of a godless abomination, but there was some good advice in there.” “Good advice under a pissy, self-serving pretence however.” Clueless said. “She’s going to visit again…” “About those windows?” Toras asked again. Clueless waved his hands. “She’s going to be judging us on just how much we cater to her whims, which means her suggestions in the letter.” “But they’re not all that bad.” Florian reiterated. “We can leave out some of the cr*p she snuck in there and just go with the sensible ones. We can see if some of the things specific to her can be done easily, and if so, we’ll humor her. If we do a decent job of not pissing her off, we might get advertisement.” “Maybe…” Toras said. “She’s going to show up anyhow.” Florian argued. “We might as well pacify her and get what we can out of it.” “What has she ever done for us?” Toras deadpanned. Clueless narrowed his eyes, inwardly seethed and grit his teeth. “Trashed the 12 Factols?” The cleric suggested. “What? You think it’s random that they were threatening us with legal action and all of a sudden a bunch of drunken dwarves flash mob their place a day or so after Miz Fuzzy just happens to mention it all.” Toras shrugged. “Of course the b*tch had their place trashed!” Florian said. “And I’m happy she did! I can’t stand that uppity bastard who owned the place! He deserved it.” “She was showing off, not doing us a favor.” Toras complained. “We can make a show of stroking her ego.” Florian said. “Yes it’ll be painful to smile and take the abuse, but it’s the best we can manage at the moment.” “[I]Better than having to stroke anything else of hers…[/I]” Clueless thought to himself. “Make the best of a bad situation.” Florian continued. “We can at least get her off our backs for the moment. We have more important things to worry about than her.” They were still bickering over just how to respond to the Marauder’s letter and ‘suggestions’ when Tristol walked down into the taproom, somewhat dressed up, and on his way out apparently. There was something to the way he was moving too. Not quite a spring in his step, not quite nervousness, but a little of both. “Where are you headed out to?” Florian asked. “And why all dressed up?” Clueless said. The aasimar paused and looked at the others who were now of course all staring at him. “What?” He asked. “You’re nervous and you’re dressed nice.” Florian said. “What’s up?” Tristol blushed slightly. “Well… I’m taking Nisha out for dinner.” Clueless raised an eyebrow and gave him a quick once-over look. “I offered to treat her for dinner anywhere in the city.” Tristol said, still blushing. “And she said yes.” He smiled and quickly excused himself, eager to be on his way. But the moment the door closed and he was out of earshot, there was a distinct and prolonged, “Awwwww…” [center]***[/center] Nisha was giggling slightly at the random blush that seemed to manifest every so often at the tips of Tristol’s ears. The mage was some curious mixture of nerves and smiles as he sat across the table from the tiefling, who despite her giggles at his mood was feeling much the same as him, with her tail twitching to and fro behind her chair. “This is a really nice place you picked out Nisha.” Tristol said as the waiter, an elven-descended aasimar, poured them both a glass of wine. “It’s out of the way.” She replied. “Cozy really. And the food’s just as good as anything you’d find in the Lady’s Ward, just without the people from the Lady’s Ward ruining the experience.” The restaurant, a tiny little out of the way place nestled in the Clerk’s Ward, was known as the ‘Cutter’s Vineyard’. It was a play on words really, since the restaurant itself was in the middle of a group of smaller buildings that had been intentionally allowed to become overgrown with razorvine. The dining area was on the rooftop, framed by vineyard type latticework covered in snarls of the abyssal plant, an elegant place with the contrast of a vineyard for Cutters and vines very capable of slashing a berk to ribbons. “You’ve got good taste.” Tristol said. “There’s a reason I suggested that you pick the restaurant and I’d pick up the tab. Well, multiple reasons really.” Nisha grinned. “It’s as good as anything in the Lady’s Ward.” She repeated. “We even get fancy bits of razorvine without any fiends wearing them.” Tristol laughed as Nisha made a face in mockery of the razorvine crowned King herself. “I swear…” Tristol said. “If I’m lucky to ever come to know half the little spots in Sigil, good, bad, or otherwise that you seem to know like the back of your hand, I’ll count myself in good shape.” “You’ve been in Sigil for what? Less than a year?” The tiefling prodded, tapping a finger on the table. “You’ve officially shed any Clueless Prime designation you ever had.” “Well, that’s certainly a positive thing.” He replied. “I’m glad I’ve gotten better.” “You should have seen yourself the first time I met you.” Nisha said with a chuckle. “All wide eyed, nervous… like a modron in Limbo…” Tristol raised an eyebrow and grinning. “And if I recall correctly, you almost fell off a roof the first time I met you.” “It was slippery…” Nisha replied. “And though nobody saw it up there, there was… a… glabrezu… with a grease spell… yes, exactly! That’s why I almost fell. Yes…” Tristol laughed as Nisha’s tail twitched, rattling its bell. “Anyways, you did fill out the paperwork for shedding your ‘Clueless Prime’ designation yes?” Nisha asked with as straight of a face as she could muster. Tristol paused and tilted his head sideways. “Say what?” “Yeah, the paperwork for those sorts of things.” Nisha said. “Very important. And you know how I am with dotting my I’s and crossing my T’s on all things official and all such. There’s a tax if you haven’t filled it out.” “A tax?” “Yeah, I think you have to pay for dessert too!” She said with a wink. They giggled some more and reminisced a bit over their first experiences together when they were being blackmailed by Bartol Trenevain and his dubious masters. The nostalgia was pleasant, despite some of the circumstances that it had involved, and the honestly short period of time that had elapsed since. But dinner soon arrived and there was a momentary lull in conversation, replaced with a clatter of silverware on china and pleasant murmurs of appreciation at the food. In between bits of chicken, mouthfuls of salad greens or chunks of bread there were glances and smiles between them both. There was certainly something there between them, but also the uncertainty that was always a prelude to something beyond friendship, perched there on the windowsill of intimacy as a bit of a stumbling block, waiting for one person or the other to make the bold first step. “So…” Nisha said, dabbing her chin with her napkin. “What do you think about me? Behind him, Tristol’s tail poofed out slightly. “Well…” He said, trying to avoid coughing on the piece of food he’d awkwardly swallowed. “I like you a lot.” “That’s not descriptive.” Nisha quipped back. “And you’ll have your turn to do the same. Be blunt.” “You’re spontaneous.” Tristol said almost immediately. “You’re a free spirit, and you seem to really have found yourself a niche in life.” Nisha grinned. “I can accept that I think.” “Now I know that Skalliska and Toras have called you crazy before…” Nisha stuck out her tongue and smiled. “But I prefer to think of you as whimsical.” “Not bad… Not bad…” Nisha said, mulling over the descriptors in her mind. “My turn now.” Tristol said. “What do you think about me?” “I think you’re cute.” She replied. “Cute?” Tristol asked, one ear twitching. “Not the first thing I’d think to describe myself as.” “Oh sure, argue with me…” Nisha replied with a smile, reaching across the table and tapping Tristol’s hand. “I think you’re cute.” “Anything else?” “Hmm…” She pondered for a moment. “You’ve got a head for magic, and I really like that too. You’re really talented.” “I like magic, though on another level it came with expectations.” He said. “Home was all about magic and nothing much else. It’s both good and bad in different ways.” “You’ll have to tell me about where you grew up sometime then.” She said, perching her head on her elbows. “You’ve mentioned Halruaa before, and it sounds pretty exotic, and certainly different from where I grew up.” The last statement came with her tail idly gesturing in multiple directions, up, down, left, right, Sigil itself. “I wouldn’t call Sigil something other than exotic now.” Tristol said. “Halruaa was an interesting place, but it doesn’t compare to a fraction of what happens in Sigil on a daily basis. Mages everywhere in Halruaa, but hardly anyone ever visits because they’re paranoid about their magic being exposed to anyone on the outside. So day in day out you don’t have much anything different.” “I wasn’t always able to appreciate Sigil in the same way though.” Nisha replied. “The Hive never really gave much luxury for a good chunk of my life. I was more concerned about eating and staying safe than sightseeing. I’m jaded to the place with the best of them.” Tristol nodded. “But you’ve done well for yourself in every way.” Nisha shrugged. “And you even managed to learn magic along the way too.” Tristol added. “How did you actually manage that?” “There’s a story behind that of course.” She said with a grin. “And I only know a little magic, so let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” “Still, you’re a wizard nonetheless.” She held up a finger to correct him. “Technically I’m a wild mage.” One of Tristol’s ears twitched. “So…” “Yep! Every time I cast a spell there’s a random chance of a wild surge!” Tristol went for his wine rather abruptly and downed the remainder of the glass. “Aren’t you glad that you’re the one casting most of the magic and leaving the sneaky stuff to me and Skalliska?” Nisha asked with a perky grin. “I’m glad that you’re good at what you do.” Tristol said, eyes blurry from the quick shot of alcohol. “I’ll learn more magic at some point.” Nisha said. “I might even ask you to teach me.” “I’d be happy to do so, though we might have some differences in how we cast certain things.” “I’ll get around to it eventually.” Nisha said with a shrug. “I’m just not one for sitting down and studying. It’s a bit too ordered for me.” “You seem to very happily embrace Chaos.” Tristol replied. “And speaking of which, you’ll have to tell me about the Xaositects some time.” “They’re oh so fun…” She said. “When the time’s right I might take you to meet some of them that I hang around with when I just vanish from the inn every so often.” “Is that a threat or a promise?” Tristol asked with a grin. “They have an interesting reputation suffice to say.” “-I- have an interesting reputation.” She replied. “Just ask Toras or Skalliska. Yet you still asked me out to dinner tonight.” Nisha held up a finger dabbed in gravy and grinned. “You have a point.” Tristol said, moments before he had a dab of said gravy on the tip of his nose. “And you have gravy on your nose.” Nisha giggled. Tristol dabbed himself with his napkin and chuckled. The tiefling was impulsive, that was for certain. But soon enough, dessert arrived and they both smiled and nibbled at the pastries and custard, quite enamored with the course of the evening and happily warmed emotionally. “I have to ask one thing.” Tristol said, poking his fork at a bit of apple pie. “What have you been up to with Amberblue the past day or two?” The bell on the tip of Nisha’s tail rattled. “You’re grinning.” Tristol said. “And I’ve noticed that you have the habit of jingling that bell whenever you’re up to something.” “Usually.” She corrected him with a grin fit for a chaos imp. “Usually?” “I just do that sometimes to break any pattern and keep people on their toes.” She replied. “What? You expect me to be predictable?” Tristol chuckled and shook his head. “No, not really, though I can hope for close guessing on my part.” Nisha was giggling again. “Trust me.” She said. “You’ll find out what I’ve been up to with Amberblue. Nothing explosive, not this time, and nothing illegal.” “Well that’s good.” He replied. “A relief actually. But you’ve got me even more curious now.” “That’s the point silly…” Nisha didn’t relent on that though, only telling him that he’d find out, that he’d enjoy it, and above all, it’d keep the faerie dragon from conjuring even more apples into the Portal Jammer. That seemed to pacify him, and the once again lapsed into talking about their views on various subjects, their likes and dislikes, and other things as they nibbled at dessert. When they were finished, and Tristol had left a very generous tip, they walked back out to the street below. They were more than just smiling and comfortable as they left the Cutter’s Vineyard, they were emotionally giddy. He’d enjoyed their dinner together and so had she. Despite their differences they really did make a curiously appropriate pair, a cute couple to any passersby. Of course, the karmic wheel of the multiverse was much more apt to turn when given a little nudge. It didn’t have to wait long though, as it was only a few blocks later on the way back to the Portal Jammer when Nisha leaned in and gave Tristol a kiss. [center]***[/center] Back in his room, Clueless opened a window, conjured an extra light and opened the book that Tristol had somehow managed to obtain a copy of. “Magic and Antimagic – Karsus of Eileanar” Clueless said, letting his tongue wander over the title of the book. Despite the apparent rarity of the tome, which according to Tristol was originally written thousands of years ago, the book that now lay open on the table in front of him was in remarkable condition. Though small segments of the book seemed to have been repeatedly and obsessively perused at some point in the past, the majority of the pages were virtually as crisp as the day that they had been first set within the binding. “How the hell did you manage to find a copy of this Tristol?” The aasimar had never actually mentioned where he had found a copy. He’d simply vanished for an afternoon and come back to the inn with the heavy book and a pleasant smile upon his face, smelling of the distinctive reek of the Lower Ward. “Apparently A’kin has his claws on more than just oddities.” Clueless said with a bit of a whistle. “I knew he was talented, and he carried all sorts of stuff that wasn’t on public display, but this? This is more than I’d have expected out of him.” Be it a random, a fluke of chance, storm clouds of some dark providence, or the twisted turn of some karmic Wheel, something stirred in the bladesinger’s mind. Something opened its eyes and looked out of his, something that had last done so in a pique of malignant curiosity on Carceri’s layer of Cathrys. That time had been brief: a moment’s glimpse across the planes to peer out through a window of flesh and spirit, a periscope of will and want boring through the fragile membranes of its mortal host but for a short time before once more lapsing into quiescence. This time was different. This time it would make its presence known. [center]***[/center] [/QUOTE]
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Shemeska's Planescape Storyhour (Updated 29 Jan 2014)
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