D&D 5E Greenmtn's Planescape Game IC

[Greenmtn]

Welcome to Sigil!
It’s considered by some to be the jewel of the Outlands, the nexus of power of the multiverse, a place of great beauty or ugliness. Every day in Sigil, deals are made that seal the fate of hundreds and thousands, negotiators barter for peace in the Blood War, and factotums seek the truth to the meaning of everything. People die, ideals are born, and great power is wielded with the flick of a finger. The city seems to wrap around you, curving slightly in all directions, you could comfort yourself by thinking of it as a welcoming embrace... but you have all been here long enough to know that on any given day it could also envelope you like the hungry maw of a Tanar'ri.

OOC: I didn't want to make any assumptions about if the PC's knew each other or not. feel free to decide that you do or don't know the other PC's as you see fit

[sblock=Lex]
After 3 trips to the hall of records and exactly 15 hours, 28 minutes and 47 seconds of moving from cluttered desk to cluttered desk, dealing with all manner of Takers grumpily and begrudgingly "helping" you, you exit the building again onto the chaotic and bustling streets of the Administrators district of the Clerks ward with a paper detailing the last 3 signatures needed, and the 500 gold fee required, for entrance into a class on the history of Sigilian Law. Over the last few days, a pain has been slowly growing behind your eyes. You start calculating how to come up with that kind of money. The Hive has been seeing an up-rise in deaders, message running would take far to long, you could try again to start a band, someone must need information about something...[/sblock]

[sblock=Ashir]
You like this place, despite the unsavory company and smell, or maybe because of it. It is the only place you have found in the city that doesn't feel cold. You look up over your cup and the bar is busy, the hustle and bustle of games being played, stories told and harlots courting customers. You take a strange sick comfort in the burning humanoid figure somehow suspended above a grate in the floor, the source of the heat. Word around the bar is that the body is somehow connected to the plane of fire it's self and will burn forever. Your thoughts are interrupted by a thump in your head, it's been there since you woke up this morning but you don't remember drinking THAT much yesterday.[/sblock]

[sblock=Ezra]
The Hive is a good place to disappear for a while, when you don't want anyone finding you. Unfortunately for those there it also means no one notices when you are written in the dead book, and it seems that has been happening more than usual here as of late. Alleshas Pantry proved to be a dead end, you walk into the "Smoldering Corps" bar, it's a busy place full of unsavory types, the heat is oppressive and the sight of the humanoid body burning in the middle of the main room is sickening to most. In the noise you hear all manner of conversations Harlots flirting, arguments, games of chance, yells for more drinks. You scan the room for any sign of someone that might know the dark of what is going on with these deaders, you are sure the Dustmen would pay well for that information. Your eyes settle finally settle on a pale skinned fellow with coal black hair.[/sblock]


[sblock=Leau]
Fresh vegetables are so hard to find in this forsaken place and you swear that the streets themselves move when you aren't looking. You were sure you were on your way to Greenage, a bar ill suited for someone of your size, The Halfling that owns it caters to people her stature but the cider she makes is truly divine, literally and figuratively if her claims are true she makes it from apples from one of her little Gods orchards. and your stomach grumbles at you as you recognize the Hall of Records. You are in the right ward at least. An interesting site indeed distracts you. A Modron with a look you have never seen before on one of it's kind. Even with it's all knowing collective mind. This one seems... confused.[/sblock]

 

[mike peabody]

*Approaches Leau*

 

[Deus Machina]

Leau had been wandering slowly through the distict, trying to keep an eye out for any sign that may look promising. He had been born and raised among trees and fields, tribal camps and villages. His expectation for a city had been more like that among a large village, perhaps even during a festival, not... this. Random strangers hadn't been particularly helpful so far, and now he's just hoping for any place that provide anything more than bread supplemented with his own dwindling dried rations. His eyes do pause on the modron with some kind of amused empathy; in a crowd like that, even the metal men get befuddled.

 

[Breeyark]

Ezra gives the burning corpse on display only a brief sideways glance, noting it but barely reacting to it. He appears the sort that cares to not want to seem bothered by something, even something that everyone else would best be bothered by, especially so...

He pulls a small cloth-wrapped package from his coat pocket. It's a long and useful looking coat, the kind that doesn't scream stylish, but also seems carefully selected to appear a nonchalant kind of cool. He knocks a hand-wrapped stick of something out of the package with a flick, taps it on the bar, which sets it to smouldering on the end.

Drawing a drag and exhaling slowly, without turning his head to look at the coal-topped fellow, he says:
"Now, you think a man would get used to the sight a seein' someone burned like that. You think yad reach a point where that would seem like just sum party trick for low-rent bars." He shoots a glance at the bartender, "No offence meant er nuthin." Back to staring at the bottles, perhaps the reflection of the burning man in them or what is illuminated across the bar behind him, "But ya really don't. No, a soul never really gets used to that kinda thing, don't ya think?"

He turns to the pale skinned man for the first time with a questioning look on his face, breathing smoke from the corner of his mouth.

 

[mike peabody]

*Stops; points both index fingers at Leau while keeping elbows at waist height*

"I am Lex and I would like to buy you a tea! Winning smile!"

*Flashes winning smile immediately after saying, "Winning smile".*

 

[blaststeel]

Ashir takes his eyes away from the burning corpse and looks at the man talking (Ezra) at the bar in a nonchalant and function coat. The Charismatic and friendly mood and clear good taste of the man seems as fair as his hair. “You are quit right.” Ashir states as he approached the spot along the bar next to Ezra Graymore. “
“It is quit the sight and it does do the trick.” Ashir says waving his hand in a board wave and an attempt at a friendly grin towards the bartender. He scans the rest of the room before looking back towards Erza Graymore.
“ It definitely gives off the heat of a warm fire.” Ashir shrugs towards the burning body. “ Mind If I join you while you can tell me what brings you here good sir? And if it is not my business feel free to cast me off and go on talking about the ambiance of this establishment. ” Ashir feels like he just talked more in the last five minutes than he has in months. Nothing like a friendly face and no weapons pointed at you to make you feel sociable. Besides Ashir likes a good story as much as the next and overhearing the tales is only half as good as hearing first hand. Which will allow Ashir to stay in the warm bar a bit longer without being hit on by harlots while he sobers up. He still has no idea what he going to do for work or pay.

 

[blaststeel]

Ashir is not sure what to think about Ezra friendly comments or the other patrons of the bar. He convinced only on the motives of the harlots, a few drudges in the corners and that the unsavory bartenders he may have over tipped. He still holding his cup and double checking his memory on those entering and leaving to figure out what he missed in the night. He smiles and looks with his best friend face at Ezra while trying to check that the persons are not blocking his view of the heat source.

 

[Breeyark]

Ezra taps the bar loud enough for the barkeep to hear. He points to a bottle of somewhat cheap brown liquor and indicates two glasses by making a "V" sign with his fingers. The Barkeep might have been mildly perplexed, Ezra doesn't know, but it's of little consequence anyway. Ezra turns his attention back to the pale man and says:

"You look like you might know the dark of this influx o' deaders of late, and that yeah might consider lightin' the subject without thinkin one a gully ripe for the pick."

He subtly (but not too subtly) indicates the rest of the room: "Not like the rest o' these scum who'll roll ya for jink and bleat grail til ya got no clue where ya are and what happen t'yer purse. Whadda ya say, got a clue there to the goin's on?"

 

[Breeyark]

It would occur to a native of Sigil that Ezra may be laying the local parlance on thick, and that it might be for appearances.


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[Greenmtn]

Smoldering Corpse Bar

Double post

 

[Greenmtn]

Smoldering Corpse Bar

As the bartender, who after a few moments in the bar you would noticed is referred to by others as Barkis, turns and grabs the bottle of brown liquid you notice the blackened leather strap covering his left eye. As he pours two short metal cups of the booze he listens to your chant with a growing smirk on his face.

"A real cutter'd know the dark of old' Ingus there. Ain't moved from that spot long as I been here. Tried burnin' down the whole of the Hive he did. This is his punishment, cursed with being part of the plane o fire forever." He sets the cups down in front of Ezra "At'll be 4 copper. You come to a place keep you busy til yer in the Dead Book Berk. Ya rattle yer bone box to the wrong cutter that might be quicker than you might like." His tone is more one of an experienced warning than a condescending comment.

[sblock=Ashir]As you think back to the night you can't think of any reason for your headache. You remember seeing a Gith who when you approached him to talk looked you over and gave you a look that made it clear he wasn't interested. Talking with an old man named Meir'am about his fish and listening to stories of traveling the planes by a strange man who was semi-transparent and claimed that he was stuck like that from an accident in the plane of shadow. This headache is different than any hangover you have ever had, it seems to move as your head does,
almost like it is coming from something outside of you, and what ever part of your head is closest to it's source is where it hurts.[/sblock]

 

[Breeyark]

Ezra places 4 bits on the bar slowly, then after a slight pause, puts out 2 more and asks Barkis:

“If you don’t mind me askin, how’d you loose the peeper?”


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[blaststeel]

Not caring either way. the question about extra deaders has Ashir stumped. He about to say similar words of wisdom to what Barkis has said but wisdom not really his thing. He bobbles his head nodding agreement rather oddly but not out of place. Barkis and Ezra Graymore talk seems to have put the bartender in a good mood and he hopes the comment about the peeper doesn't sour the Barkis the bartender. Ashir just assumed Barkis still has both eyes and was wearing a patch to keep his night vision for below deck. Which does not make much sense in the well it bar.. or does it?

DM- Ashir is nodding his head to try and locate the source of this external head pain. Clearly there something but is it an object, a person of thing within the room? Is it outside? Perhaps its the bond or ward keeping the plane of fire linked to this Ingus?
Ashir waiting to see what Barkis says before he will nudge him further by saying “Tellin us about yourself and your peepers patch before we in the dead book.”

Then less loudly so maybe only the bartender and Esra can hear, “Wouldn't know which boots be interested in deaders ... or who be losing money to an influx o' deaders of late?”
Ashir rather not end up dead himself and feels this has all the fixing of maybe worth finding out about before it comes in with a bad tide.

 

[Deus Machina]

Leau blinks at the modron. Even for those types, this one is odd. He glances up from him to the Hall of Records and decides short-term goals, such as a place out of the bustle and a meal, are a more pressing matter. A finger twists one of his braids thoughtfully. At least Lex seems more harmless than anything else in the city. "Yyyeah, okay. Will there be food?"

 

[Greenmtn]

Smoldering Corpse Bar

At the question about his eye Barkis first looks angry, they seeing the extra coin on the bar he gives a little shrug.
"The Dark of it is longer and more expensive if you want me to ignore paying customers to tell it. But I'll tell you it's a reminder never to make a deal with a Devil."

He pauses for a moment and leans in when Ashir asks about the deaders. He is about to speak when he stops to wave away a harlot that was coming up behind you"If you want the Dark on deaders you gotta find a collector of a Dusty but I can tell you this. I could give you names, but my memory isn't what it could be." Barkis moves on to another customer down the bar.

OOC: You would both know that Dusty is a nickname for the Dustmen who have a rather morbid outlook on life and run the mortuary in the city which is located here in the hive. Collecters are hive citizens, poor and desperate enough that they walk around collecting dead bodies out of the street and delivering them to the mortuary. As with many in the Hive they take to banding together in groups Ashir - Go to Coyotecode.net/roll and put in the information for a Investigation check, put the link to the result in your next post and I will tell you what you figure out nodding your head. Lex - As you look to Leau and step towards him your headache seems to move to the back of your head and lessen slightly.

 

[mike peabody]

Lex remains literally motionless, staring sweetly but blankly, fingers pointed like a pair of pistols in a bank heist. Just before it gets TOO weird, he seems to snap to and opens up his arms and expression to Leau, clapping his metal palms together and chuckling.

"That is exactly what I love about you all, the eating! Tell me, how are you at staying extremely quiet?"

 

[mike peabody]

*Interrupts Leau at the beginning of his response*

"Another thing I would like to know is if you would be so kind as to tell me if I have been stabbed. I am experiencing a sensation in what you would call the 'brain' that is not altogether pleasant and, owing to my unique construction, I am unable to view that part of myself to confirm my condition. I had thought I could reach it but, in case you were unaware, some weapons are very small and cannot normally be found in a routine search. Though I am a highly skilled detective, the peculiar nature of this sensation means that I should seek outside consult prior to the next tier of investigative action; namely, removing my ocular apparati by hand and extracting the contents of my casing, slowly and methodically, searching for defects. It is a procedure I have been told is startling and capable, according to one viewer, of making one , 'totally lose their lunch.' While I do not see the connection between basic self-biopsy and the risk of sudden meal unavailability, since you have indicated interest in eating or at least having food available, it seemed reasonable to ask this favor prior to its acquisition so that you do not lose ownership of your lunch, by whatever means. To be clear, do you think me pulling out my eyes would somehow cause you, personally, to forget where you put whatever it was you were eating? Or would it be seized by some specialist collections agent? Either situation would be terrible for you, since you need food to live, and I would be very sorry."

 

[Greenmtn]

OOC: Should Leau investigate he will find no weapons sticking out of the Modron which i am assuming is box shaped.

 

[Breeyark]

Ezra seems impassive to the warning issued by Barkis, but makes no further inquiries into his eyepatch or slanders against the patrons. He shifts in his seat slightly and maybe trying to gain a view of behind him in the reflection of the bottles, just in case.

He takes a long drag off his hand-rolled smoke and exhales a short breath and a thin ring billowing into the air above the bar.

He turns to the bartender, intent on saying something, then stops. He turns back to the bottles and says: “What’s a good libation for memory anyhow? Is it that silver one there, or is it something in the gold variety?”

 

[Greenmtn]

Smoldering Corpse Bar

"You two don't look like Bleakers but your mad as one if you think you can clean up the Hive. Who knows, maybe you can do some good." Barkis looks around before reaching under the bar, seemingly content that no one is watching as he produces a polished horn of some kind with a cork in one end. Pooring two glasses of a golden colored liquid into the metal mugs in front of the two of you before hiding the horn away again.

"Ol' Candrian over theres a real Cutter, member o' the Planeswalkers. When he heard about me eye he brought this, said it was from Ysgard, best bub I ever had. The glass is on the house. You ever find a devil looks like one of the Dusties zombies, but with life in his eyes. Pen him in the dead book, come back here and we can finish the horn over the story of my eye."

[sblock=Ezra]You don't see anything that worries you in the reflections of the bottles, focusing on the sounds of the bar you hear a debate about if "Powers" are real or not, someone making money turning in rat tails, a Harlot haggling price with a potential customer, someone telling a story about how they got "Iron toes", a female voice worries about a husband who recently became ill, complaints about Hardheads all mingling in with the drink orders[/sblock]