Metropolis (Slaves to the City) - Chapter Two

[Phoenix]

Still, a lead was a lead. And he'd prefer talking to death priests with some sun about, whether it would really help him or not.

Ru decides he'll take a careful look around. Reconnoiter the area to make sure it isn't meant to be a corral rather than a meeting, then see what he can find.

"As always, Master, your counsel is gratefully accepted. Now, if you could point me in the direction of Therobon Avenue and its storm grate, I have to go run some more errands sure to be bad for my health."

The way to Therobon Avenue is not a path that Ru usually takes. It is not a strange far away street that is hidden in the depths of some strange suburb, it is simply tucked away in an abandoned section of buildings where there is little money to be garnered.

The walk there is a quiet one, with the sun coming up as Ru approaches the storm gate that is the entrance to the sewers.

No-one.

The place is empty, if the newpaper was correct, and if anybody showed up, then they probably would've gone into the place hours ago.

 

[jkason]

Well, if nothing else, there were no immediate signs of slaughter. Of course, the way things have been going, the slaughtered would have likely just walked off on their own back into the city.

Ru runs his fingers through his hair, torn. The yellow robes, and more importantly the Killi-kelli-hek's key, could well be under the city. But he has no way of knowing how many members of this supposed counter-striking army might be below, as well, and no backup of his own. Meanwhile, the sun was coming up, assuaging some of his uneasiness at entering an unknown section of town, and visiting the temple of Zsath was the kind of information-gathering trip that shouldn't require any heavies in tow.

He taps the ground with his quarterstaff, turning away from the grate. He has a surface contact in the form of this Ghost character who's written the call to arms. It seems a smarter route to follow than hopping into the sewers and wandering about trying to find a supposed army of righteousness. For now, he'll leave the army to its own devices, tracking down Ghost when the time comes.

Ru turns north ... ish, in the direction he thinks leads to Dionysian. With the day starting, he should be able to catch someone on the way who has a better idea of the direction of the temples. Another trying day; might as well get to it sooner rather than later.

 

[Phoenix]

It seems to take forever to do anything in this city somedays, and this was one of those days for Ru. People didn't know, or refuse to know, the directions to where he wanted to head. Eventually, by the rivers, Ru managed to discover a group of men whose small boats provided a ferry service that headed to the various suburbs of Metropolis, for a price of course. For a few silver Ru was on his way to Dionysian, a trip that would take him the better part of an hour.

Amidst the dark polluted clouds that hung above the city, Ru could barely make out the suburb from the river. The buildings seemed larger, the stench of the city a little less potent, and instead of numerous towering spyres stretching into the sky, there was only one.

A great black tower soared into the sky, dominating the suburb and casting its shadow across the land for what seemed like miles. The boatman, seeing Ru staring at the construction, simply nudged him and said, "If'n that's where ya off to, good luck. Them there priests of Zsath are a right righteous bunch, up 'emselves ya know?"

 

[jkason]

"That's the Zsathian temple, then?"

Ru gulped, wondering if maybe the sewers would have been the better choice. He hopped out when they reached shore anyway, handing off the sliver the trip required.

"Righteous. Fun. Well, life's nothing if not interesting these days." He squared up his shoulders, drew in a breath, and trotted off in the direction of the temple, hoping that, like so many imposing figures, it was more show than not.

 

[Phoenix]

The streets of Dionysian were great, once. Now the majestic buildings that had been lovingly paid for with the richest of purses were old, worn, and struggling to maintain their former glory. The people that walked the streets wore the expensive fashions of several years ago, the opulence that once permitted this place seems to be a glory that is slowly fading.

Towering above all is the Temple of Zsath, stading easily over thirty stories tall, it is not as tall as the Spyres in The Apartments, but this building was held solely by one organization, the clergy of Zsath.

At the base of the temple massive marble stairs rise up towards the opened brass double doors, guarded by six men in the darkest of plate armour. People walk back and forth from the temple, showing Ru that it is a place for the public obviously, but none of the people coming and going seem to be happy to be there.

 

[jkason]

Remember, look like you know what you're doing, like you're supposed to be here, and you get half the trouble, Ru reminds himself.

First thing's first. He finds a place out of direct sight of the guards and stows his weapons in the magical space his haversack supplies (handy, indeed). Priests of death or not, Zsath's followers were probably just as likely to look down on baring weapons openly in their temple as any other. Besides, Master Gis had given Ru training such that he was never truly defenseless; time to trust that.

Ostensibly posing no threat now, Ru heads forward. He keeps his eyes on the door, on whatever appointment he has to keep (whether he's actually made it or not). Treat the guards like they aren't there--or like you aren't worried that they are--and a good portion of the time they act like they aren't there, too.

Time to ask the experts on death why their object of worship seems to have run off in the middle of the night.

 

[Phoenix]

Ostensibly posing no threat now, Ru heads forward. He keeps his eyes on the door, on whatever appointment he has to keep (whether he's actually made it or not). Treat the guards like they aren't there--or like you aren't worried that they are--and a good portion of the time they act like they aren't there, too.

Time to ask the experts on death why their object of worship seems to have run off in the middle of the night.

The guards looked at Ru as he passed, his cloths obviously different from that of the rest fo the suburb, but let him go. With no weapons obvious, it seems that Ru has been given a stay for the moment.

Within the tower the ceiling opens up so that the temple proper fills the first four floors of the tower. The vaulted ceiling high above is reinforced with elegant framework and expensive engraved wooden beams. Down the walls expensive balconies decorated with silks overlook the temple, allowing priests to look down upon their flock from up high. At the ground level dozens of pews allow several hundred people to crowd in for the sermons at one, and even though none are currently underway, several dozen people are still evident in the area.

At the far end of the chamber a large obsidieon slab engraved with silver streaks and decorated with a golden throw cloth, acts as the consecrated alter of the temple. Several priests in their back garb loiter in the area, going about minor jobs to keep the area clean.

 

[jkason]

At the far end of the chamber a large obsidieon slab engraved with silver streaks and decorated with a golden throw cloth, acts as the consecrated alter of the temple. Several priests in their back garb loiter in the area, going about minor jobs to keep the area clean.

Ru reminds himself that this isn't his standard negotiation. You don't make demands and issue veiled threats to people who speak with gods. Much as he hates giving up the high ground without a fight, he figures that's the best bet here.

Ru approaches the nearest black-garbed priest with his eyes on the ground, and when he's just out of striking distance, he bows deeply, arms crossed at the wrist, hands splayed open, palms up--the gesture of peace in servitude. It's not one he's used to having to make, but only a fool can never compromise, he reminds himself.

Holding his bow and gesture, Ru says with as much meekness as he can call to his voice, "Honored servant of Zsath, I come seeking council on a matter most severe."

 

[Phoenix]

Ru reminds himself that this isn't his standard negotiation. You don't make demands and issue veiled threats to people who speak with gods. Much as he hates giving up the high ground without a fight, he figures that's the best bet here.

Ru approaches the nearest black-garbed priest with his eyes on the ground, and when he's just out of striking distance, he bows deeply, arms crossed at the wrist, hands splayed open, palms up--the gesture of peace in servitude. It's not one he's used to having to make, but only a fool can never compromise, he reminds himself.

Holding his bow and gesture, Ru says with as much meekness as he can call to his voice, "Honored servant of Zsath, I come seeking council on a matter most severe."

The priest turns and looks at the humbled Ru, satisfied with the display.

"Huyim tal-al, mortal one. It seems that many come looking for the aid of the Spirit-banker, be it spiritual or physical in nature, we can provide you with the assistance you require. Please mortal, speak that which you require, and I shall direct you to whom you will need to seek."

 

[jkason]

The priest turns and looks at the humbled Ru, satisfied with the display.

"Huyim tal-al, mortal one. It seems that many come looking for the aid of the Spirit-banker, be it spiritual or physical in nature, we can provide you with the assistance you require. Please mortal, speak that which you require, and I shall direct you to whom you will need to seek."

"Many thanks."

Ru stands straight again, relieved, though as he tells his tale, he remembers there's little to be relieved about.

"I do not know how far it may have spread or what its source is, but in the Kanji, Red Lamp, and Delphi districts, I fear the dead no longer remain so. This was no necromantic power I've seen, either. Three times last night I saw men felled by wounds who rose again, and no matter how much damage those bodies took, they kept coming back. Not undead so much as undying. I've come to seek council from those who know the workings of death best."