Ghostknight
First Post
Just finished reading the SH to date- fantastic going Shemmy. I've never run a Planescape campaign, but this defintiely spikes my interest to do so!
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Shemeska's Planescape Storyhour (Updated 29 Jan 2014)
- Thread starter Shemeska
- Start date
Shemeska
Adventurer
"I realize perhaps that we last spoke on somewhat awkward terms." The fiend explained, "But I'm here with a smile."
"You always smile." Toras said.
"But this time I actually mean it!" He explained. "I'm actually happy at the moment. And the cause of my being happy is something that deserves to be shared!"
"And what would that be?"
The fiend hummed and bobbed a bit in the air. Clearly he was excited.
"Now I'd intended to tell you all at the same time."
"Same time as what?"
"I'm getting there mortal." He interjected. "Allow me my moment."
Toras sighed and gestured for him to continue his ego-feeding.
"I've come here tonight as a harbinger of news."
"Autochon the Bellringer needed another news boy and you got the job?" Toras asked without a pause. "Congrats to you, but I don't see why I should care if you're making a few extra jink on the side."
"Your sarcasm is impressive." The fiend replied. "Amusing at times as well. But I think you'll be interested in the news that I was carrying."
"Go ahead." He sighed. "You're so evil, blah blah blah. We cannot be stopped, blah blah blah. That's the usual content anyways."
"There's substance this time." The Cheshire Fiend explained, ignoring the insults. "In fact there's going to be a dead fiend very shortly. I hope you didn't get too attached to Xideous in the short time that you knew him."
The reaction he got out of Toras wasn't entirely what he expected.
"And why should I care?" The fighter asked. "Another fiend dies. He's not one of the fiends on my list of fiends that deserve to die, and yes I have just such a list, but still I can easily live with that."
The Grin smirked. Clearly he wasn't going to faze Toras without tweaking him a bit.
"I should also point out that there's an orphanage adjacent to the wing of the Gatehouse."
"..."
"A pity really if anything were to accidentally befall them in the process of..."
Toras's eyes went wide and his hand went immediately to a wooden tablet to his left. The fiend was starting to chuckle despicably when the fighter held the tablet and its inscribed surface up in the air.
"Symbol of Pain!"
Not expecting it, the fiend's illusory avatar twisted and distorted as he looked at the symbol and caught the effect with full force.
"Gahhh!" The Cheshire Fiend exclaimed with a gargle in his voice a moment before he either cancelled his projection into Toras's room, or lost the concentration necessary to maintain it.
In either event however, Toras was already out the door and running towards the Hive with the hope that whatever was planned, he would get there in time to prevent mass casualties. But even at his pace, he wasn't actually the first person to bolt from the inn.
Meanwhile, at the same time Toras had been speaking with the Cheshire Fiend, the exact same conversation was happening in the other rooms of the Jammer where the grinning 'loth had manifested in order to gloat, or goad, or simply to banter with the rest of the inn's owners. Given that each conversation was happening at once, it had interesting implications.
Fyrehowl narrowed her eyes and looked at the perpetually smiling avatar. "Nothing good ever happens when you show up."
"Odd circumstance really, nothing more." The fiend replied. "You know, in my defense I've never actually done anything to harm you and yours. Not me, not directly."
Fyrehowl rolled her eyes, "Not yet."
The air shimmered above the corners of the fiend's illusory mouth, giving the distinct appearance of a disembodied shrug. "I suppose I have to shoulder the burden of my race's reputation. A pity really, because I try to be an amiable fellow."
"So what do you want now?"
The grin turned towards the window where it had first manifested. "Take a look towards the Hive."
Something wasn't right. Fyrehowl felt something wrong. And before her mind had even had time to speculate on just what the Cheshire Fiend was there to announce, even before the fiend had opened his mouth to tell her what she was looking for out the window, the window was open and Fyrehowl was gone.
"Because tonight you..." The fiend stopped and actually stuttered. "Well damn. That was unexpected."
He looked out of the window and down to the street. The lupinal was already gone, vanished off into the night, and she'd leapt a full two stories in the process without even a pause. Perhaps it had been a mistake to talk to her before the fact rather than after that night's events had fully transpired.
"You're fast my dear." He said, adding a short bit of a whistle. "But thankfully not quite fast enough. We'll be finished before you get there, but I'll be taking note of just how far you make it before then. It'll be nice to know for the future just how much lead-time I'll have in case you have reason to track me down..."
Tristol's ears were flattened against his head as he sat up in bed and blinked against the glow of a simple dweomer that he'd invoked to light the room.
"I was asleep you know." The wizard mumbled as he adjusted to the light. "And your face is hardly my first choice to wake up to."
"Alas, I'm not fluent in scramblespeak." The fiend replied, getting no reaction from Tristol one way or the other. "But I do bring some good news. Of a sort."
Tristol's ears perked at the mention, even though he wasn't certain it would actually be anything good.
"Good news?"
"Well," The fiend explained. "News of events that will put you in my good graces certainly."
The aasimar gave only a skeptical expression in return. "That's not high on my list of the most wonderful things in the world. But okay I suppose."
"Oh please Tristol, you wound me." The Cheshire Fiend prattled on whimsically. "I'm an influential person. Being in my favor is something that could improve your life, grease wheels, even Wheels I suppose."
Tristol smirked, "Talking like that I half expect you to be the Marauder."
The Cheshire Fiend laughed, then paused, and then stuck out a tongue.
Tristol returned the expression, but without the same humor. "Not that I expect you to admit it, even if it's accurate."
"You could always ask her yourself." The fiend suggested with a tone of amusement. "But do yet me know ahead of time, because I'd love to see her reaction, and I'd feel compelled to pay for the healer, or the undertaker as it might be."
Tristol's ears flattened once again.
"Trust me Tristol." The fiend said. "The relationship is complex, but she wouldn't appreciate the comparison. Not at all."
Fully awake by that point, Tristol wanted some answers rather than banter. "So what did you come here tonight to say? I'm awake now, so whatever it is I'll be able to appreciate it, or despise it whichever the case might be."
Before the Grin could reply however, he twitched. "And Nisha is awake and having far too much fun at my expense."
"Oh?" He asked. "I take it you're talking to everyone?"
The Cheshire Fiend nodded and for a brief moment his illusory avatar sported a gloss of what appeared to be a coating of rather garishly applied lipstick and blush.
"As I said, too much fun at my expense."
Tristol chuckled, put almost at ease by the thought of Nisha having fun dolling up the fiend's avatar. But unfortunately his mood would quickly sour.
"So what was it you were going to tell me in the first place?"
The fiend moved towards the window and turned back to face Tristol.
"Tonight..."
"Evening to you Clueless."
Clueless had Razor drawn and pointed at the Cheshire Fiend by the time he spun around to face the unexpected visitor.
The fiend's glowing avatar drifted forwards and nibbled on the point of the sword. "You're a bit more hostile than the others..."
Clueless narrowed his eyes, much the same expression that Fyrehowl had made. "Just what the hell do you want?"
Belatedly, he cursed and looked away, already knowing just why the fiend was there.
"Being threatened apparently." He replied, drifting back away from the sword's point. "Actually I'm here to congratulate you."
"F*ck..." Clueless spat.
"Smart boy. You already know what I'm referring to."
"The moment we find something to even possibly..." The bladesinger sighed. "You take it away. And this is my fault."
The fiend said nothing and let Clueless simmer in self-hatred and frustration. Gone was the friendly veneer that the fiend had adopted with the others at least at first. With Clueless the grinning was as fake as ever.
"Is he already dead?"
"Might as well be." The fiend replied. "Might be better for him. But since you've already stumbled to what I came here to mention to you all, I should direct you to the window, because I assure you, you'll want to see this."
Suddenly the fiend's avatar twitched and he actually snarled. "And Toras is a very unpleasant man when you poke at his convictions. I'll have to remember that he keeps an unhealthy number of inscribed symbols laying around."
Clueless snorted. "Serves you right."
The fiend tilted noncommittally. "Contrary to what poor Nilesia might have said on the matter, there's no such thing as Justice. But having said that, you'll want to look out the window because tonight..."
"Tonight..." The Cheshire Fiend spoke to each of the Portal Jammer's owners with the conviction of a zealot.
He laughed, unable to contain his giddy feelings.
"Tonight the sky of Sigil will bleed red with the fury of my Lord Helekanalaith. The Gatehouse will burn, the cursed life of the gehreleth known as Xideous will be snuffed, and his work shall be erased from existence. Tonight bear witness to the fate of those who would defy the Lord of Gehenna. Let his will be done."
The moment the last syllable left the fiend's illusory lips, the explosion rattled the windows and the sound of fallen and breaking slate tiles echoed up from the street. The sound from the Hive washed over the Clerk's ward like a peal of thunder of such intensity that Lei-Kung or Thor would have had stopped, paused and wondered, had gods been allowed in the City of Doors.
The haze-covered sky in the direction of the Hive was awash in a dozen flickering shades of red and yellow from the flames roaring up from the Gatehouse. After the immediate eruption of flame, a vast plume of smoke rose into the sky and as the colors mixed and deepened, the skies of Sigil did indeed appear to be bleeding. But as violent an event as the sky might have suggested, the true extent of the damage was only visible to someone there at the scene.
And by the time the first flames had sparked into existence, Fyrehowl was already halfway there, running without consciously thinking where she was even going, moving as fast as her legs would carry her. When she was almost within view of the Gatehouse it happened, and she actually saw the immediate aftermath, felt the first heat of the expanding flames wash over her and was there for the rain of molten metal and stone dripping out of the sky like the Lady herself were crying for the violation of the City of Doors.
The center wing of the Gatehouse was an inferno, and flames poured the windows near the back quarter of its length, but it was immediately clear just where it had started.
"You b*stards..." Fyrehowl whispered as she paused for only a moment.
The rear of the Irretrievably and Criminally Insane Ward of the Gatehouse looked as if some great hand had descended from the sky and ripped it open. The metal frame of the roof was peeled back and partially melted from the force of the explosion, and the flames that had been ignited by that event were, from even a cursory glance, simply an uncaring side effect of an assassination, heartless overkill by the fiends. There was no way that Xideous, or any of the scores of prisoners in that section of the structure could have survived.
As fruitless as any attempt to have saved or even warned the gehreleth might have been, the building was still on fire, and its occupants still in grave danger. Fyrehowl, and Toras once he arrived shortly thereafter, knew that they could lament Xideous's death as soon as the flames were extinguished and the people of the area safe.
"And now Clueless." The fiend said, turning away from the window once the glow in the sky had shifted to a more sullen shade of red. "It can only go without saying that the terms of my Lord Helekanalaith's agreement with you will be amended in some manner."
Clueless paused. "What?!"
"Don't go killing the messenger now." The fiend replied defensively. "Toras already made the attempt. But do keep in mind that your finding of Xideous was purely incidental, not some grand master stroke on your part to gain the favor of the 'leths and thus gain your ticket into a very brief, very abortive collusion with the late, unlamented author in the gatehouse. You won't be gaining your freedom by chance, regardless of your view on any presumed facade of pragmatism, or his 'word', the Keeper does not operate by such except when it suits him."
"Get him." Clueless spat. "I want to speak with him. Now."
The Cheshire Fiend shrugged. "He operates by his schedule alone, barring perhaps a few minor exceptions. And unless you happen be the Oinoloth or one of the Gloom Fathers, you my boy do not qualify as one of those exceptions. He will contact you at a time and place of his choosing."
"Son of a b*tch..."
The fiend chuckled, "I have to wonder how Larsdana would respond to that..."
Clueless paused, uncertain what to make of the statement. It certainly said something about the fiend hovering a few feet away from him, but the ramifications would be a very long time coming.
"But now Clueless, if you'll excuse me, I have other things to do. Perhaps a party to attend, perhaps a party to crash, perhaps I'll just go watch the Gatehouse burn. Enjoy your evening, and know that when I raise a glass to tonight's events, the first toast will be to you."
Following the fiend's pronouncements there was little that could be done except meet in the taproom and begin the process of numbing themselves into oblivion. Only Fyrehowl and Toras were there at the scene, and they were performing after-the-fact cleanup and preventing further damage, but the worst was already done. Toras at least had a silver lining to his mad dash from the Clerks Ward to the Hive: the orphanage was untouched by the flames and despite the Cheshire Fiend's mocking suggestions, the children had never been in danger.
Elsewhere in the city, and soon swirling around the Portal Jammer as well, confusion was followed swiftly by outrage, and on the coattails of that came rumor and finally the first fragments of information from Sigil's debatably independent press. But of course, nowhere in the press was there any declaration of just what had caused the destruction in the first place, at least not any declaration that was accurate. The only people who knew that were one, maybe two 'loths in Sigil, and the owners of the Portal Jammer who for the moment lacked any solid proof to back up their knowledge.
Fire guts central wing of Gatehouse! one headline read, Mayhem and Madmen! read another. Destruction and Death in the Hive. Arson Not Ruled Out. No mention of fiends. No mention of the very selective explosion that occurred before the fires began. Some papers blamed Xaositects, some blamed resurgent Anarchists, some even blamed one or another sect of the Doomguard.
"F*ckers..." Clueless cursed as he skimmed through a pile of newspapers, still warm or wet from the press, his hands stained with about as much cheap ink as metaphorical blood.
Not a drop of coverage suggesting that the 'loths, or even any fiends at all had caused the destruction. Nothing. Either certain 'loths were pulling strings on the printing houses, or more like the press simply had no clue what had happened. Given how thoroughly many of the upper tier ex-Bleakers had been in thrall to Xideous, they were probably too out of their senses to make heads or tales of anything for the moment.
The press was ignorant, and for all of the other suspected reasons, be they arson, anarchists or others, the press already had a pair of scapegoats that had been handed to them on silver platters.
Madmen Missing From Gatehouse Asylum, Ex-Factols Vanish, No Bodies Found, Ex-Factol Lhar Found Wandering The Hive, Back In Custody. Esmus And Tollysalmon Still At Large, Rewards Offered
Clueless frowned as he read the last headlines, "Why do I get the feeling that this is going to come back to haunt us somehow?"
Florian looked over at him, "This in general or the barmies?"
"Little of column A, little of column B..."
The papers went on to report that Lhar had never gotten far, and they'd found him wandering in a daze, talking to himself, intermittently screaming at shadows. Esmus however had apparently bolted from the Gatehouse as soon as the walls of his cell had been ripped apart by the explosion. A number of people had seen him dashing through the street, and the last reliable witness claimed to have seen him dive through a portal leading to the Bleaker city known as the Madhouse in Pandemonium. Of course none of the papers really dwelled too heavily on the fact that he'd apparently been able to survive the explosion in the first place.
As for Tollysalmon, the papers were silent on her fate. A few witnesses reported seeing her calmly walking away from the Gatehouse, or standing there watching the flames, but then for all intents and purposes she simply vanished and there were no leads readily apparent. But within the hour the former Bleakers had put out news of a substantial reward for the return of their former factols, dead or alive, or for information on their current whereabouts.
"How much are they offering for a reward?" Skalliska asked as Clueless related the gist of what he was reading in the various papers. "We could always go find them you know."
Just having returned from the Hive, Fyrehowl's fur bristled at the thought. "I know we don't have a ton of stuff planned for the immediate future at the moment, but I don't want anything to do with them. They disturb me. It doesn't feel right around them."
Nisha grinned, "That would be Cipherspeak for "Now I know what it felt for Rhys right before the Faction War.""
"Cipherspeak?" Amberblue asked, perched on the bar atop a "hoard" of spare coins left as tips. The faerie dragon was largely in the dark about everything, and they were trying to keep him that way.
"Yep. Cipherspeak." Nisha nodded. "Would you prefer it in Xaos?"
"No. Not really." Fyrehowl responded after downing a shot of brandy, her 9th. "I felt disturbed around them, but not something from the Cadence. I didn't feel them in the Cadence. It was like they simply were there, or they didn't fit. Disturbing."
Florian nodded. "So no hunting them down for likely lowballed reward money out of the good of our hearts then?"
"I could go for a vacation, but tracking down that pair of nutters isn't something on my list." The lupinal punctuated that declaration with yet another shot of liquor. It was going to be a long night, and there was a significantly larger amount of alcohol to be consumed before it was over.
Despite the prevailing mood within the Portal Jammer, the mood was quite different elsewhere in the multiverse.
Within the Fortune's Wheel there was a celebration of sorts going on, one stocked with expensive wine, one very particular woman, and more laughter than song. Of course, despite her jubilation, despite the fact that her celebration had started with giddy anticipation an hour before the events in the Hive, and had even taken place in the Stargazer's Tower with a perfect and unobstructed view of the Gatehouse on the opposite side of the city, despite all of that, the Marauder hadn't lifted a painted claw in any of the carnage. Oh, she was happy for the end result -far be it for her to miss wallowing in someone else's misery or cause the death of one of Apomps's children- but she was purely an admiring spectator.
Meanwhile in Gehenna there was a much more subdued celebration taking place in a chamber at the summit of the Tower Arcane.
"It's amusing whose names have made it into the pages of this book over the eons. Wouldn't you agree?"
Blue light played across the ivory fangs of the Keeper of the Tower as he stared back at his reflection distorted and reflected back within the depths of the glittering sapphire sphere that perpetually hung above his desk.
"I can only speculate of course by what route many of these names reached the ears and pens of the various authors. I know a few that I fed to the ears of mortals as a method of punishment for particularly disobedient underlings, and it's amusing that it spread into here. Presumably the 'leth had access to other copies of the tome, or more likely given the handwriting progression through the pages, a succession of revisions by different conjurers and sages have added names known through various routes to them as individuals."
Helekanalaith closed the book and then closed his eyes, running his hand across the leather binding of the Shator Revision to the Book of Keeping. The binding was fresh and the leather still supple and yet to fully tighten against the cover and spine due to a remaining bit of mucus-like liquid in the porous layers of the dermis, but that was typical of gehreleth flesh, and there’d been no reason to suspect that Xideous's flayed hide would have proven any different.
"But the end result of course is that Xideous is dead and has been made an example of those who would defy the might of the yugoloth race." The Keeper smiled and pushed the book to one side, looking back at the gem containing the spirit of Larsdana ap Neut.
"It is of course purely an added benefit that Xideous's book has in the end come to rest upon my desk. Blasphemous as it might be in the hands of non-yugoloths, there's no reason whatsoever that it cannot find some practical use in mine. You would have done the same."
Helekanalaith lifted a glass of fermented petitioners' blood, toasting his imprisoned lover in a bizarrely sentimental expression. "Glory be to us the chosen of Evil. Cheers Larsdana."
But the fiends' gloating was not entirely finished.
"You always smile." Toras said.
"But this time I actually mean it!" He explained. "I'm actually happy at the moment. And the cause of my being happy is something that deserves to be shared!"
"And what would that be?"
The fiend hummed and bobbed a bit in the air. Clearly he was excited.
"Now I'd intended to tell you all at the same time."
"Same time as what?"
"I'm getting there mortal." He interjected. "Allow me my moment."
Toras sighed and gestured for him to continue his ego-feeding.
"I've come here tonight as a harbinger of news."
"Autochon the Bellringer needed another news boy and you got the job?" Toras asked without a pause. "Congrats to you, but I don't see why I should care if you're making a few extra jink on the side."
"Your sarcasm is impressive." The fiend replied. "Amusing at times as well. But I think you'll be interested in the news that I was carrying."
"Go ahead." He sighed. "You're so evil, blah blah blah. We cannot be stopped, blah blah blah. That's the usual content anyways."
"There's substance this time." The Cheshire Fiend explained, ignoring the insults. "In fact there's going to be a dead fiend very shortly. I hope you didn't get too attached to Xideous in the short time that you knew him."
The reaction he got out of Toras wasn't entirely what he expected.
"And why should I care?" The fighter asked. "Another fiend dies. He's not one of the fiends on my list of fiends that deserve to die, and yes I have just such a list, but still I can easily live with that."
The Grin smirked. Clearly he wasn't going to faze Toras without tweaking him a bit.
"I should also point out that there's an orphanage adjacent to the wing of the Gatehouse."
"..."
"A pity really if anything were to accidentally befall them in the process of..."
Toras's eyes went wide and his hand went immediately to a wooden tablet to his left. The fiend was starting to chuckle despicably when the fighter held the tablet and its inscribed surface up in the air.
"Symbol of Pain!"
Not expecting it, the fiend's illusory avatar twisted and distorted as he looked at the symbol and caught the effect with full force.
"Gahhh!" The Cheshire Fiend exclaimed with a gargle in his voice a moment before he either cancelled his projection into Toras's room, or lost the concentration necessary to maintain it.
In either event however, Toras was already out the door and running towards the Hive with the hope that whatever was planned, he would get there in time to prevent mass casualties. But even at his pace, he wasn't actually the first person to bolt from the inn.
***
Meanwhile, at the same time Toras had been speaking with the Cheshire Fiend, the exact same conversation was happening in the other rooms of the Jammer where the grinning 'loth had manifested in order to gloat, or goad, or simply to banter with the rest of the inn's owners. Given that each conversation was happening at once, it had interesting implications.
Fyrehowl narrowed her eyes and looked at the perpetually smiling avatar. "Nothing good ever happens when you show up."
"Odd circumstance really, nothing more." The fiend replied. "You know, in my defense I've never actually done anything to harm you and yours. Not me, not directly."
Fyrehowl rolled her eyes, "Not yet."
The air shimmered above the corners of the fiend's illusory mouth, giving the distinct appearance of a disembodied shrug. "I suppose I have to shoulder the burden of my race's reputation. A pity really, because I try to be an amiable fellow."
"So what do you want now?"
The grin turned towards the window where it had first manifested. "Take a look towards the Hive."
Something wasn't right. Fyrehowl felt something wrong. And before her mind had even had time to speculate on just what the Cheshire Fiend was there to announce, even before the fiend had opened his mouth to tell her what she was looking for out the window, the window was open and Fyrehowl was gone.
"Because tonight you..." The fiend stopped and actually stuttered. "Well damn. That was unexpected."
He looked out of the window and down to the street. The lupinal was already gone, vanished off into the night, and she'd leapt a full two stories in the process without even a pause. Perhaps it had been a mistake to talk to her before the fact rather than after that night's events had fully transpired.
"You're fast my dear." He said, adding a short bit of a whistle. "But thankfully not quite fast enough. We'll be finished before you get there, but I'll be taking note of just how far you make it before then. It'll be nice to know for the future just how much lead-time I'll have in case you have reason to track me down..."
***
Tristol's ears were flattened against his head as he sat up in bed and blinked against the glow of a simple dweomer that he'd invoked to light the room.
"I was asleep you know." The wizard mumbled as he adjusted to the light. "And your face is hardly my first choice to wake up to."
"Alas, I'm not fluent in scramblespeak." The fiend replied, getting no reaction from Tristol one way or the other. "But I do bring some good news. Of a sort."
Tristol's ears perked at the mention, even though he wasn't certain it would actually be anything good.
"Good news?"
"Well," The fiend explained. "News of events that will put you in my good graces certainly."
The aasimar gave only a skeptical expression in return. "That's not high on my list of the most wonderful things in the world. But okay I suppose."
"Oh please Tristol, you wound me." The Cheshire Fiend prattled on whimsically. "I'm an influential person. Being in my favor is something that could improve your life, grease wheels, even Wheels I suppose."
Tristol smirked, "Talking like that I half expect you to be the Marauder."
The Cheshire Fiend laughed, then paused, and then stuck out a tongue.
Tristol returned the expression, but without the same humor. "Not that I expect you to admit it, even if it's accurate."
"You could always ask her yourself." The fiend suggested with a tone of amusement. "But do yet me know ahead of time, because I'd love to see her reaction, and I'd feel compelled to pay for the healer, or the undertaker as it might be."
Tristol's ears flattened once again.
"Trust me Tristol." The fiend said. "The relationship is complex, but she wouldn't appreciate the comparison. Not at all."
Fully awake by that point, Tristol wanted some answers rather than banter. "So what did you come here tonight to say? I'm awake now, so whatever it is I'll be able to appreciate it, or despise it whichever the case might be."
Before the Grin could reply however, he twitched. "And Nisha is awake and having far too much fun at my expense."
"Oh?" He asked. "I take it you're talking to everyone?"
The Cheshire Fiend nodded and for a brief moment his illusory avatar sported a gloss of what appeared to be a coating of rather garishly applied lipstick and blush.
"As I said, too much fun at my expense."
Tristol chuckled, put almost at ease by the thought of Nisha having fun dolling up the fiend's avatar. But unfortunately his mood would quickly sour.
"So what was it you were going to tell me in the first place?"
The fiend moved towards the window and turned back to face Tristol.
"Tonight..."
***
"Evening to you Clueless."
Clueless had Razor drawn and pointed at the Cheshire Fiend by the time he spun around to face the unexpected visitor.
The fiend's glowing avatar drifted forwards and nibbled on the point of the sword. "You're a bit more hostile than the others..."
Clueless narrowed his eyes, much the same expression that Fyrehowl had made. "Just what the hell do you want?"
Belatedly, he cursed and looked away, already knowing just why the fiend was there.
"Being threatened apparently." He replied, drifting back away from the sword's point. "Actually I'm here to congratulate you."
"F*ck..." Clueless spat.
"Smart boy. You already know what I'm referring to."
"The moment we find something to even possibly..." The bladesinger sighed. "You take it away. And this is my fault."
The fiend said nothing and let Clueless simmer in self-hatred and frustration. Gone was the friendly veneer that the fiend had adopted with the others at least at first. With Clueless the grinning was as fake as ever.
"Is he already dead?"
"Might as well be." The fiend replied. "Might be better for him. But since you've already stumbled to what I came here to mention to you all, I should direct you to the window, because I assure you, you'll want to see this."
Suddenly the fiend's avatar twitched and he actually snarled. "And Toras is a very unpleasant man when you poke at his convictions. I'll have to remember that he keeps an unhealthy number of inscribed symbols laying around."
Clueless snorted. "Serves you right."
The fiend tilted noncommittally. "Contrary to what poor Nilesia might have said on the matter, there's no such thing as Justice. But having said that, you'll want to look out the window because tonight..."
***
"Tonight..." The Cheshire Fiend spoke to each of the Portal Jammer's owners with the conviction of a zealot.
He laughed, unable to contain his giddy feelings.
"Tonight the sky of Sigil will bleed red with the fury of my Lord Helekanalaith. The Gatehouse will burn, the cursed life of the gehreleth known as Xideous will be snuffed, and his work shall be erased from existence. Tonight bear witness to the fate of those who would defy the Lord of Gehenna. Let his will be done."
The moment the last syllable left the fiend's illusory lips, the explosion rattled the windows and the sound of fallen and breaking slate tiles echoed up from the street. The sound from the Hive washed over the Clerk's ward like a peal of thunder of such intensity that Lei-Kung or Thor would have had stopped, paused and wondered, had gods been allowed in the City of Doors.
The haze-covered sky in the direction of the Hive was awash in a dozen flickering shades of red and yellow from the flames roaring up from the Gatehouse. After the immediate eruption of flame, a vast plume of smoke rose into the sky and as the colors mixed and deepened, the skies of Sigil did indeed appear to be bleeding. But as violent an event as the sky might have suggested, the true extent of the damage was only visible to someone there at the scene.
And by the time the first flames had sparked into existence, Fyrehowl was already halfway there, running without consciously thinking where she was even going, moving as fast as her legs would carry her. When she was almost within view of the Gatehouse it happened, and she actually saw the immediate aftermath, felt the first heat of the expanding flames wash over her and was there for the rain of molten metal and stone dripping out of the sky like the Lady herself were crying for the violation of the City of Doors.
The center wing of the Gatehouse was an inferno, and flames poured the windows near the back quarter of its length, but it was immediately clear just where it had started.
"You b*stards..." Fyrehowl whispered as she paused for only a moment.
The rear of the Irretrievably and Criminally Insane Ward of the Gatehouse looked as if some great hand had descended from the sky and ripped it open. The metal frame of the roof was peeled back and partially melted from the force of the explosion, and the flames that had been ignited by that event were, from even a cursory glance, simply an uncaring side effect of an assassination, heartless overkill by the fiends. There was no way that Xideous, or any of the scores of prisoners in that section of the structure could have survived.
As fruitless as any attempt to have saved or even warned the gehreleth might have been, the building was still on fire, and its occupants still in grave danger. Fyrehowl, and Toras once he arrived shortly thereafter, knew that they could lament Xideous's death as soon as the flames were extinguished and the people of the area safe.
***
"And now Clueless." The fiend said, turning away from the window once the glow in the sky had shifted to a more sullen shade of red. "It can only go without saying that the terms of my Lord Helekanalaith's agreement with you will be amended in some manner."
Clueless paused. "What?!"
"Don't go killing the messenger now." The fiend replied defensively. "Toras already made the attempt. But do keep in mind that your finding of Xideous was purely incidental, not some grand master stroke on your part to gain the favor of the 'leths and thus gain your ticket into a very brief, very abortive collusion with the late, unlamented author in the gatehouse. You won't be gaining your freedom by chance, regardless of your view on any presumed facade of pragmatism, or his 'word', the Keeper does not operate by such except when it suits him."
"Get him." Clueless spat. "I want to speak with him. Now."
The Cheshire Fiend shrugged. "He operates by his schedule alone, barring perhaps a few minor exceptions. And unless you happen be the Oinoloth or one of the Gloom Fathers, you my boy do not qualify as one of those exceptions. He will contact you at a time and place of his choosing."
"Son of a b*tch..."
The fiend chuckled, "I have to wonder how Larsdana would respond to that..."
Clueless paused, uncertain what to make of the statement. It certainly said something about the fiend hovering a few feet away from him, but the ramifications would be a very long time coming.
"But now Clueless, if you'll excuse me, I have other things to do. Perhaps a party to attend, perhaps a party to crash, perhaps I'll just go watch the Gatehouse burn. Enjoy your evening, and know that when I raise a glass to tonight's events, the first toast will be to you."
***
Following the fiend's pronouncements there was little that could be done except meet in the taproom and begin the process of numbing themselves into oblivion. Only Fyrehowl and Toras were there at the scene, and they were performing after-the-fact cleanup and preventing further damage, but the worst was already done. Toras at least had a silver lining to his mad dash from the Clerks Ward to the Hive: the orphanage was untouched by the flames and despite the Cheshire Fiend's mocking suggestions, the children had never been in danger.
Elsewhere in the city, and soon swirling around the Portal Jammer as well, confusion was followed swiftly by outrage, and on the coattails of that came rumor and finally the first fragments of information from Sigil's debatably independent press. But of course, nowhere in the press was there any declaration of just what had caused the destruction in the first place, at least not any declaration that was accurate. The only people who knew that were one, maybe two 'loths in Sigil, and the owners of the Portal Jammer who for the moment lacked any solid proof to back up their knowledge.
Fire guts central wing of Gatehouse! one headline read, Mayhem and Madmen! read another. Destruction and Death in the Hive. Arson Not Ruled Out. No mention of fiends. No mention of the very selective explosion that occurred before the fires began. Some papers blamed Xaositects, some blamed resurgent Anarchists, some even blamed one or another sect of the Doomguard.
"F*ckers..." Clueless cursed as he skimmed through a pile of newspapers, still warm or wet from the press, his hands stained with about as much cheap ink as metaphorical blood.
Not a drop of coverage suggesting that the 'loths, or even any fiends at all had caused the destruction. Nothing. Either certain 'loths were pulling strings on the printing houses, or more like the press simply had no clue what had happened. Given how thoroughly many of the upper tier ex-Bleakers had been in thrall to Xideous, they were probably too out of their senses to make heads or tales of anything for the moment.
The press was ignorant, and for all of the other suspected reasons, be they arson, anarchists or others, the press already had a pair of scapegoats that had been handed to them on silver platters.
Madmen Missing From Gatehouse Asylum, Ex-Factols Vanish, No Bodies Found, Ex-Factol Lhar Found Wandering The Hive, Back In Custody. Esmus And Tollysalmon Still At Large, Rewards Offered
Clueless frowned as he read the last headlines, "Why do I get the feeling that this is going to come back to haunt us somehow?"
Florian looked over at him, "This in general or the barmies?"
"Little of column A, little of column B..."
The papers went on to report that Lhar had never gotten far, and they'd found him wandering in a daze, talking to himself, intermittently screaming at shadows. Esmus however had apparently bolted from the Gatehouse as soon as the walls of his cell had been ripped apart by the explosion. A number of people had seen him dashing through the street, and the last reliable witness claimed to have seen him dive through a portal leading to the Bleaker city known as the Madhouse in Pandemonium. Of course none of the papers really dwelled too heavily on the fact that he'd apparently been able to survive the explosion in the first place.
As for Tollysalmon, the papers were silent on her fate. A few witnesses reported seeing her calmly walking away from the Gatehouse, or standing there watching the flames, but then for all intents and purposes she simply vanished and there were no leads readily apparent. But within the hour the former Bleakers had put out news of a substantial reward for the return of their former factols, dead or alive, or for information on their current whereabouts.
"How much are they offering for a reward?" Skalliska asked as Clueless related the gist of what he was reading in the various papers. "We could always go find them you know."
Just having returned from the Hive, Fyrehowl's fur bristled at the thought. "I know we don't have a ton of stuff planned for the immediate future at the moment, but I don't want anything to do with them. They disturb me. It doesn't feel right around them."
Nisha grinned, "That would be Cipherspeak for "Now I know what it felt for Rhys right before the Faction War.""
"Cipherspeak?" Amberblue asked, perched on the bar atop a "hoard" of spare coins left as tips. The faerie dragon was largely in the dark about everything, and they were trying to keep him that way.
"Yep. Cipherspeak." Nisha nodded. "Would you prefer it in Xaos?"
"No. Not really." Fyrehowl responded after downing a shot of brandy, her 9th. "I felt disturbed around them, but not something from the Cadence. I didn't feel them in the Cadence. It was like they simply were there, or they didn't fit. Disturbing."
Florian nodded. "So no hunting them down for likely lowballed reward money out of the good of our hearts then?"
"I could go for a vacation, but tracking down that pair of nutters isn't something on my list." The lupinal punctuated that declaration with yet another shot of liquor. It was going to be a long night, and there was a significantly larger amount of alcohol to be consumed before it was over.
***
Despite the prevailing mood within the Portal Jammer, the mood was quite different elsewhere in the multiverse.
Within the Fortune's Wheel there was a celebration of sorts going on, one stocked with expensive wine, one very particular woman, and more laughter than song. Of course, despite her jubilation, despite the fact that her celebration had started with giddy anticipation an hour before the events in the Hive, and had even taken place in the Stargazer's Tower with a perfect and unobstructed view of the Gatehouse on the opposite side of the city, despite all of that, the Marauder hadn't lifted a painted claw in any of the carnage. Oh, she was happy for the end result -far be it for her to miss wallowing in someone else's misery or cause the death of one of Apomps's children- but she was purely an admiring spectator.
Meanwhile in Gehenna there was a much more subdued celebration taking place in a chamber at the summit of the Tower Arcane.
"It's amusing whose names have made it into the pages of this book over the eons. Wouldn't you agree?"
Blue light played across the ivory fangs of the Keeper of the Tower as he stared back at his reflection distorted and reflected back within the depths of the glittering sapphire sphere that perpetually hung above his desk.
"I can only speculate of course by what route many of these names reached the ears and pens of the various authors. I know a few that I fed to the ears of mortals as a method of punishment for particularly disobedient underlings, and it's amusing that it spread into here. Presumably the 'leth had access to other copies of the tome, or more likely given the handwriting progression through the pages, a succession of revisions by different conjurers and sages have added names known through various routes to them as individuals."
Helekanalaith closed the book and then closed his eyes, running his hand across the leather binding of the Shator Revision to the Book of Keeping. The binding was fresh and the leather still supple and yet to fully tighten against the cover and spine due to a remaining bit of mucus-like liquid in the porous layers of the dermis, but that was typical of gehreleth flesh, and there’d been no reason to suspect that Xideous's flayed hide would have proven any different.
"But the end result of course is that Xideous is dead and has been made an example of those who would defy the might of the yugoloth race." The Keeper smiled and pushed the book to one side, looking back at the gem containing the spirit of Larsdana ap Neut.
"It is of course purely an added benefit that Xideous's book has in the end come to rest upon my desk. Blasphemous as it might be in the hands of non-yugoloths, there's no reason whatsoever that it cannot find some practical use in mine. You would have done the same."
Helekanalaith lifted a glass of fermented petitioners' blood, toasting his imprisoned lover in a bizarrely sentimental expression. "Glory be to us the chosen of Evil. Cheers Larsdana."
But the fiends' gloating was not entirely finished.
***
Graywolf-ELM
Explorer
I wondered how he would meet his end. Would that be some form of epic spell, or group casting? I'm just curious if you use game mechanics for the over the top stuff like that, or if it is just "known" how much power certain entities have.
I know, long since I posted a comment here, but I still read regularly.
GW
I know, long since I posted a comment here, but I still read regularly.
GW
Shemeska
Adventurer
Graywolf-ELM said:
In this particular case I don't believe I ever confirmed if Xideous was killed by one person casting an epic spell or using an artifact, or if it was the combined efforts of several casters. I think I might have implied at a later point in the game that it was largely done by the Cheshire Fiend, but that he might have had secondary/contributing casters.
Graywolf-ELM
Explorer
Shemeska said:
Thanks Shemmy, I still run to the boards here when I get a little E-mail saying there has been an update. It's fun reading what you, your players, and the other readers have to say.
GW
Shemeska
Adventurer
Graywolf-ELM said:
I will say that it was not Helekanalaith who wrecked a wing of the Gatehouse. For all his obscene power, he can't waltz into Sigil himself except for an illusory projection. Now there are two particular things (people or objects) that exist over the course of the campaign that seem capable of breaking the Lady's restrictions over the portals of Sigil, but Helekanalaith isn't one of them [The Shadow Sorcelled Key mentioned in 'In the Cage' is one of them, and when it becomes relevant to the plot I'll be writing up a side storyhour of sorts to cover the oneshot game I ran for that bit of offtotheside action that was parallel to the campaign proper].
Actually now that you ask about it, at some future point in the storyhour I'll actually make a confirmation on the particulars of the Gatehouse event, becuase something similar happens again in a later plot arc. At this point in the campaign, the Cheshire Fiend has around 6 caster levels above the Marauder, so as far as antagonistic 'loths operating in Sigil, he's got more personal power in the sorcery department.
Just wanted to show I'm still here, checking every day for another update of this great and fascinating story. Although I do seldom post, I'm a big fan.
I wonder how many 'silent' readers are out there?
Thank you very much Shemmie, and keep up the good work (and the regulary updates...
)
I wonder how many 'silent' readers are out there?
Thank you very much Shemmie, and keep up the good work (and the regulary updates...
)
Shemeska
Adventurer
Tal Rasha said:
Not him
That said, we'll see Shekelor again, but only in flashback because he's very very very much dead.
Sending a message from outside of Sigil to inside Sigil is possible if you manage to know how to route it through open portals, and that's what Shekelor was doing (or some variation of the sort of planar projections that Skall and Helekanalaith appear capable of). But there's a gulf between that and actually opening portals, influencing things inside the city, etc.
Ohtar Turinson
Explorer
Things that can get in out of Sigil without following the usual route...
::chuckles:: There's the Scratcher, right? I used him in my high school Planescape game. Probably won't in my current one.
In the Cage always seems like a bit of a mixed bag to me. Seriously- Arcadian Ponies are stupid. It's a pony... with a TENTACLE! Why would they put that in? Ahem. Sorry about that.
::chuckles:: There's the Scratcher, right? I used him in my high school Planescape game. Probably won't in my current one.
In the Cage always seems like a bit of a mixed bag to me. Seriously- Arcadian Ponies are stupid. It's a pony... with a TENTACLE! Why would they put that in? Ahem. Sorry about that.
