(IC) DND 3.5 Enter Planescape

OneCrappy DM · Mar 15, 2026

Conversation:
The Mimir Chirps in "It's called the 'Mortuary'... it's a big black structure with all the architectural charm of a pregnant spider. It is the main headquarters of the Dustmen faction, who collect the city's corpses in order to either cremate them, or raise the ones they bought the rights to as an undead workforce."
The gaunt women sneaks under her breath "They take the lowest bids for corpse collectors..." looking over at Luke coming from seemingly nowhere " riiiight... I shall hopefully see the lot of you within a few ticks over some information on these disappearances... don't go jumping out the window." She signals the swordsmen to follow her and heads towards the gatehouse to delve into information on Eliath.

InVinoVeritas · Mar 16, 2026

Emerging from the kitchen, Wawaate adds, "Was there anything I missed?"

Steve Gorak · Mar 17, 2026

Bimble

Bimble winces when he hears the Mimir say raise the ones they bought the rights to as an undead workforce. He experiences physical disconfort and barely stops himself from vomiting. this is so unnatural, and plain evil! I have to remember to learn more about these dustmen!

TaranTheWanderer · Mar 21, 2026

Mr. Black Perception: 0 Sense Motive: 4 Search: 6	AC: 14; FF: 13; Touch: 11	Spell Slots" 0: [X] [X] [] [] [] 1st: [X] [x] [X] []
HP: 8 Init: 1	Fort: 2 Ref: 1 Will: 2	Buffs: none

when the woman leaves, Mr. Black exhales,

“Well, that almost got out of hand. Let’s say we regroup and figure out what our next move is. This is much more than a missing person case.”

OneCrappy DM · Saturday at 2:21 PM

The Pantry
As the bleakers drift out one by one, their hollow expressions and muttered fatalisms fading into Sigil’s streets, quiet settles over the establishment. The remaining patrons accustomed to oddities, hesitantly return to their meals, though more than a few cast wary glances toward your table. Allesha lingers nearby, her irritation barely concealed beneath a veneer of professional restraint. The tight set of her jaw and the sharp, deliberate movements as she clears a nearby table speak louder than words. Whatever just transpired has clearly tested her patience and perhaps her tolerance for the sort of chaos that seems to follow you. Still, she doesn’t interfere. You’re allowed your space to eat and confer in low tones, the clink of utensils and the murmur of conversation gradually reclaiming the room. Yet each time your eyes meet hers, she looks with a slowly shaking head in unmistakable disapproval, as if silently urging you not to bring any more of Sigil’s madness through her doors.

Steve Gorak · Sunday at 4:56 PM

TaranTheWanderer said:
Mr. Black
Perception: 0
Sense Motive: 4
Search: 6 AC: 14;
FF: 13;
Touch: 11 Spell Slots"
0: [X] [X] [] [] []
1st: [X] [x] [X] []
HP: 8
Init: 1 Fort: 2
Ref: 1
Will: 2 Buffs: none

when the woman leaves, Mr. Black exhales,

“Well, that almost got out of hand. Let’s say we regroup and figure out what our next move is. This is much more than a missing person case.”

Bimble

Bimble nods his head and speaks in a low voice, "and better we get out if here soon, I dint get the feeling we're very welcome. Maybe we can go to the mortuary and learn more about these dustmen." He says it with distinctive, as he doesn't like the concept of their organization.

TaranTheWanderer · 2026-03-31T18:14:09+0100

Mr. Black Perception: 0 Sense Motive: 4 Search: 6	AC: 14; FF: 13; Touch: 11	Spell Slots" 0: [X] [X] [] [] [] 1st: [X] [x] [X] []
HP: 8 Init: 1	Fort: 2 Ref: 1 Will: 2	Buffs: none

OneCrappy DM said:
The Pantry
As the bleakers drift out one by one, their hollow expressions and muttered fatalisms fading into Sigil’s streets, quiet settles over the establishment. The remaining patrons accustomed to oddities, hesitantly return to their meals, though more than a few cast wary glances toward your table. Allesha lingers nearby, her irritation barely concealed beneath a veneer of professional restraint. The tight set of her jaw and the sharp, deliberate movements as she clears a nearby table speak louder than words. Whatever just transpired has clearly tested her patience and perhaps her tolerance for the sort of chaos that seems to follow you. Still, she doesn’t interfere. You’re allowed your space to eat and confer in low tones, the clink of utensils and the murmur of conversation gradually reclaiming the room. Yet each time your eyes meet hers, she looks with a slowly shaking head in unmistakable disapproval, as if silently urging you not to bring any more of Sigil’s madness through her doors.

Mr. Black looks at the dirty looks he's getting from Allesha. He doesn't exactly feel too bad for what took place - how was he to know how things would escalate - on the other hand, he doesn't exactly want to burn bridges - who knows how long he'll be stuck in this god-forsaken place.

He leaves the group's table approaches the woman, leaving out any pretense of being able to speak the local lingo,

"Sorry about the blow up. I know you warned us but things escalated before we even knew what was happening. At least we talked things through before there was any real violence. This is from all of us."

He takes out a platinum piece he'd gotten from the Dwarf

"Hopefully that can help you restock the kitchen and repair anything that got damaged."

It's a peace offering.

After his conversation with Allesha, he goes back to the table,

Steve Gorak said:
Maybe we can go to the mortuary and learn more about these dustmen."

"Can we find a place to sleep and head to the mortuary in the morning - whenever that is?"

InVinoVeritas · 2026-03-31T23:46:35+0100

Wawaate stands, thankful he didn't have to destroy anything inside. He joins Mr. Black by Allesha. "My apologies as well. I am thankful blood was not spilled inside."

He joins Mr. Black to follow him wherever he may head.