Nordom
Explorer
Antipeak
===
Foundry District
Amidst the alleys of the Lower Ward, Grim weaved her way through the bustling crowds. Her intentions were not entirely noble, as she discreetly followed her prey, her expert eyes taking in at least thrice the information a novice might have. As she continued her pursuit incognito, her scorpion tattoo began to emit an unusual warmth, catching her off guard, hesitating for just a second, allowing a resident from one of the tenements above to lock eyes with her.
Instinctively, she sought refuge, darting into a nearby alleyway to assess the situation, just barely missing the razorvine-studded archway. The tattoo's heat intensified, causing her to feel strangely dizzy. Confused and disoriented, she stumbled forward.
She was no longer in Sigil.
===
Ragpicker’s Square.
In the dimly lit corners of the slums, Kachil'kcha moved with swift and silent grace. Her multifaceted eyes scanned her surroundings, keenly aware of shifting shadows and whispered secrets. The thrum of the Hive pulsed through her limbs as she navigated the labyrinthine alleys adorned with every manner of filthy, tattered brown cloth.
As she slipped through the twisted maze, dodging urchins and collectors, a peculiar sensation began to stir within her. The constellation of gemstones and runes that adorned her chitinous exoskeleton shimmered with an ethereal glow, an otherworldly energy surging through her being. Unaccustomed to such phenomena, she paused, trying to comprehend the source of this unsettling warmth. Her chitinous outer form began to warp, slightly. As she began to move around, the area around her looked different, and the smell in the air became thick with smoke. A reddish haze filled her vision, and the quiet cacophony of what was the Hive morphed into a louder, thicker, harsher crescendo.
===
Clerk’s Ward
In the heart of fine labyrinthine marble structures, Izek carried out his clandestine mission with practiced finesse. Cloaked in the shadows, he stealthily made his way through the meandering streets, seeking vital information about his next elusive assassination target. Each step was calculated, his fiendish eyes scanning for any hint or clue that could lead him closer to his quarry.
With the cloak of antipeak, Izek's path led him to a nondescript, seemingly out-of-place shack that held a crucial piece of the puzzle. The streets were empty, and he deftly kept his green eyes shifting for the slightest hint of movement. The locked door in front of him was no challenge. With one hand, his slender fingers were able to deftly manipulate the rudimentary iron shackle.
The fingers of his other hand absently palmed the small puzzle cube that hung from his belt.
A brief CLICK and the door swung open, barely a match for him. As he stepped inside, the cube began to glow with an unexpected warmth, catching him off guard. For a moment, disorientation washed over him, and the world around him seemed to shift and blur.
When his senses returned, he found himself no longer in the familiar Clerk's Ward. Instead, he stood in a dismal and decaying landscape. The stench filled his nostrils, and the oppressive air weighed heavily on his shoulders. Confused and thrown off balance, Izek tried to make sense of the inexplicable portal that had whisked him away from his intended destination.
===
Greytowers District
Orris indulged in the luxurious comfort of a grand bathhouse, his three devoted servants attending to his every need. The bathhouse was a haven of opulence, adorned with intricate mosaics and sculpted fountains that whispered with cascading water. The attractive air-genasi stood out even among the well-to-do clientele, his hazy mist-like hair cascading down his shoulders, occasionally crackling with a subtle charge, a sight both mesmerizing and mysterious.
As Orris submerged himself in the warm, scented waters, his servants meticulously pampered him, ensuring every aspect of his experience was perfect. His skin glistened under the soft light, and the air around him seemed to shimmer with an otherworldly aura. He savored the sensations, the fragrant steam enveloping him like a soothing embrace, and the stress of the world outside momentarily forgotten.
The small fist-sized blue crystal gem that he kept close, a token of sentimental value, rested nearby. Within the gem, an airy fog swirled, its inner glow growing warmer as if responding to some unseen presence. Just as Orris closed his eyes, a sudden surge of warmth caught him off guard. His eyes flickered open, and he glanced at the glowing crystal in surprise. In his moment of distraction, he lost his footing, and with a splash, he fell backward into the pool. To his astonishment, instead of the familiar tiles of the bathhouse, Orris found himself submerged in a fetid puddle of water so acrid, it made his pale skin tingle with discomfort. The world around him had transformed, and he was no longer in the Lady's Ward. A sense of disorientation gripped him as he surfaced, blinking in bewilderment. His once-tailored clothes clung to his soaked form, the contrast of his ethereal beauty against the grim environment around him striking. Orris realized that the warm crystal gem had been the catalyst, inadvertently opening a portal to this wretched realm.
===
Unknown:
Orris, Izek, Grim, and Kachil'kcha found themselves inexplicably transported to a realm far removed from the familiar sights of the Cage. The air was heavy with the foul stench of decay, and a reddish haze veiled almost everything in sight, casting an ominous hue over the dreary landscape. Makeshift tenements surrounded them, their gray hues offering little comfort in this unfamiliar and unsettling place. The late-autumn chill added to the discomfort, while the uneasy silence was punctuated by the haunting symphony of hacking coughs in the distance. There was also an occasional scream. As they stood in the alcove, the healthy growth of razorvine on the sides seemed to herd them towards the opening out of it, adding to the oppressive atmosphere. The two-story nondescript buildings boxed them in, their nondescript facades adding to the sense of claustrophobia that lingered in the air.
In the distance, an incongruous sight caught their attention—a grand residence with gilded spires, standing tall amidst the decaying surroundings. The very presence of such opulence seemed out of place in this realm of desolation, and yet, even the gilded spires were dotted with razorvine.
For a moment, it was just the four of them.
As far as they knew.
===
Foundry District
Amidst the alleys of the Lower Ward, Grim weaved her way through the bustling crowds. Her intentions were not entirely noble, as she discreetly followed her prey, her expert eyes taking in at least thrice the information a novice might have. As she continued her pursuit incognito, her scorpion tattoo began to emit an unusual warmth, catching her off guard, hesitating for just a second, allowing a resident from one of the tenements above to lock eyes with her.
Instinctively, she sought refuge, darting into a nearby alleyway to assess the situation, just barely missing the razorvine-studded archway. The tattoo's heat intensified, causing her to feel strangely dizzy. Confused and disoriented, she stumbled forward.
She was no longer in Sigil.
===
Ragpicker’s Square.
In the dimly lit corners of the slums, Kachil'kcha moved with swift and silent grace. Her multifaceted eyes scanned her surroundings, keenly aware of shifting shadows and whispered secrets. The thrum of the Hive pulsed through her limbs as she navigated the labyrinthine alleys adorned with every manner of filthy, tattered brown cloth.
As she slipped through the twisted maze, dodging urchins and collectors, a peculiar sensation began to stir within her. The constellation of gemstones and runes that adorned her chitinous exoskeleton shimmered with an ethereal glow, an otherworldly energy surging through her being. Unaccustomed to such phenomena, she paused, trying to comprehend the source of this unsettling warmth. Her chitinous outer form began to warp, slightly. As she began to move around, the area around her looked different, and the smell in the air became thick with smoke. A reddish haze filled her vision, and the quiet cacophony of what was the Hive morphed into a louder, thicker, harsher crescendo.
===
Clerk’s Ward
In the heart of fine labyrinthine marble structures, Izek carried out his clandestine mission with practiced finesse. Cloaked in the shadows, he stealthily made his way through the meandering streets, seeking vital information about his next elusive assassination target. Each step was calculated, his fiendish eyes scanning for any hint or clue that could lead him closer to his quarry.
With the cloak of antipeak, Izek's path led him to a nondescript, seemingly out-of-place shack that held a crucial piece of the puzzle. The streets were empty, and he deftly kept his green eyes shifting for the slightest hint of movement. The locked door in front of him was no challenge. With one hand, his slender fingers were able to deftly manipulate the rudimentary iron shackle.
The fingers of his other hand absently palmed the small puzzle cube that hung from his belt.
A brief CLICK and the door swung open, barely a match for him. As he stepped inside, the cube began to glow with an unexpected warmth, catching him off guard. For a moment, disorientation washed over him, and the world around him seemed to shift and blur.
When his senses returned, he found himself no longer in the familiar Clerk's Ward. Instead, he stood in a dismal and decaying landscape. The stench filled his nostrils, and the oppressive air weighed heavily on his shoulders. Confused and thrown off balance, Izek tried to make sense of the inexplicable portal that had whisked him away from his intended destination.
===
Greytowers District
Orris indulged in the luxurious comfort of a grand bathhouse, his three devoted servants attending to his every need. The bathhouse was a haven of opulence, adorned with intricate mosaics and sculpted fountains that whispered with cascading water. The attractive air-genasi stood out even among the well-to-do clientele, his hazy mist-like hair cascading down his shoulders, occasionally crackling with a subtle charge, a sight both mesmerizing and mysterious.
As Orris submerged himself in the warm, scented waters, his servants meticulously pampered him, ensuring every aspect of his experience was perfect. His skin glistened under the soft light, and the air around him seemed to shimmer with an otherworldly aura. He savored the sensations, the fragrant steam enveloping him like a soothing embrace, and the stress of the world outside momentarily forgotten.
The small fist-sized blue crystal gem that he kept close, a token of sentimental value, rested nearby. Within the gem, an airy fog swirled, its inner glow growing warmer as if responding to some unseen presence. Just as Orris closed his eyes, a sudden surge of warmth caught him off guard. His eyes flickered open, and he glanced at the glowing crystal in surprise. In his moment of distraction, he lost his footing, and with a splash, he fell backward into the pool. To his astonishment, instead of the familiar tiles of the bathhouse, Orris found himself submerged in a fetid puddle of water so acrid, it made his pale skin tingle with discomfort. The world around him had transformed, and he was no longer in the Lady's Ward. A sense of disorientation gripped him as he surfaced, blinking in bewilderment. His once-tailored clothes clung to his soaked form, the contrast of his ethereal beauty against the grim environment around him striking. Orris realized that the warm crystal gem had been the catalyst, inadvertently opening a portal to this wretched realm.
===
Unknown:
Orris, Izek, Grim, and Kachil'kcha found themselves inexplicably transported to a realm far removed from the familiar sights of the Cage. The air was heavy with the foul stench of decay, and a reddish haze veiled almost everything in sight, casting an ominous hue over the dreary landscape. Makeshift tenements surrounded them, their gray hues offering little comfort in this unfamiliar and unsettling place. The late-autumn chill added to the discomfort, while the uneasy silence was punctuated by the haunting symphony of hacking coughs in the distance. There was also an occasional scream. As they stood in the alcove, the healthy growth of razorvine on the sides seemed to herd them towards the opening out of it, adding to the oppressive atmosphere. The two-story nondescript buildings boxed them in, their nondescript facades adding to the sense of claustrophobia that lingered in the air.
In the distance, an incongruous sight caught their attention—a grand residence with gilded spires, standing tall amidst the decaying surroundings. The very presence of such opulence seemed out of place in this realm of desolation, and yet, even the gilded spires were dotted with razorvine.
For a moment, it was just the four of them.
As far as they knew.
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