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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Shemeska" data-source="post: 2485285" data-attributes="member: 11697">Inva watched as they vanished through the portal to Sigil, twitching her tail slowly with a number of questions tumbling about her mind. Those two, Velkyn and Ankita, they seemed to know each other, and they’d been whispering to one another earlier, so something was up between them. Secrets were fun, secrets were fine and dandy to keep, but they also caught curious minds like tossing stingers down the street in the hive caught urchins.    The tiefling pondered where in Sigil amongst her past sources of information she might ply a few jink and find out a little bit about that pair, it might not be easy, but it would take them time to get back from Rigus given their lack of previous experience with the rather… difficult… and rigid culture of that particular gatetown. She had time, and…    “Umm… ma’am? You’re blocking the way to the portal…”    Inva narrowed her eyes and turned around, looking down at the russet faced gnome who was trying to squeeze past her through the mouth of the alley to get to the Sigil gateway in the city square beyond.    “Oh,” She replied in a suddenly syrupy sweet voice. “I was just going to go to Sigil myself, my apologies sir. Do you happen to have a portal key on you by any chance?”    “Well yes. Why?” The gnome said without noticing her grin begin to change its meaning.    A minute or two later, Inva stepped into Sigil and over the dazed and bruised body of the gnome that she’d hurled through the gate.    “Bloody gnomes…”***    The group, sans Inva, emerged from Sigil’s gate within a quarter mile of the fortress city of Rigus, and suffice to say the place did not in any way feel as charming or welcoming as Tradegate.    Built upon a hill in a series of seven successive tiered octagonal rings, Rigus rose up walled section by walled section; spires, pennants, spikes and towers rising up like a massive ant colony or termite mound upon the soil of the Outlands. A road led up to its main gates, and rumor held that the lowest, outermost walls were painted with a contact poison to dissuade entry by any but the proper, approved manner. The rotting corpses that littered the base of that same buttressed wall did in fact attest to the veracity of those rumors as they neared the gates and its contingent of guards and inspectors.    Four hours later they found themselves one ring higher in the city and waiting in a line once again to gain access to the next highest ring, ultimately trying to get to the ring containing the bank their payment had been deposited in. Each of them grumbled under the weight of the large, black slate shingles that hung by iron chains around their necks, badges indicating their visitor status and temporary immunity from accidental infringement of the laws of rank and order that applied to citizens of Rigus from slave-soldiers all the way up to generals.    “I never want to visit Acheron if it’s anything at all like this damn place.” Victor muttered as they stood midway through the line and waited to present their papers, and their bribes, to the authorities a block ahead of them.    “And think,” Velkyn said, “We’ve got a few more of these lines to look forward to!”    Ankita rolled her eyes. “I should have waltzed off with Inva. She had sense to avoid this place.”    “She’s probably been here before and knew what to expect.” Victor added.    They nodded and they waited. And they waited. And they waited some more.    Eight hours, and two separate military parades by the Order of the Toll of Doom later, they stood in front of the large slate roofed building two rings down from the Crown of Rigus that served as the Rigus branch of the 1st Bank of Grenpoli. And to tell the truth, getting to its main office in Baator would have likely been an easier task with less hierarchy to jump over in the process. Rigus was more law than evil, and it was a nightmare of generals and military factions all marshalling for power and prestige, each wielding the fruits of their position as blunt hammers to impose their will upon any in their particular ring of the city they held sway over.    They only mingled outside of the bank for a moment or two, glancing briefly across the street at the sprawling, grandiose tavern known as the Broken Slate, an establishment known primarily as being the only building in Rigus free from the stifling rules that applied otherwise almost universally. As such it was the main stopping point for visitors to the gatetown.    “Get your look now folks, because we won’t be spending the night.” Ankita said with some derision.    Velkyn chuckled and stepped into the brightly illuminated interior of the bank, a baroque complex of glass, marble, and Baatorian greensteel. With a flicker of amusement he noted that the ground immediately outside the bank lobby and just inside as well, was laid underfoot with a plate of cold iron. Not too many Tanar’ri customers obviously.    A short time later they found themselves accepting their payment and closing out accounts delineated for their group as a whole, and one specific to each of them containing a bonus. Their faces generally lit up when they saw the actual amounts, and they had to try carefully to not be overly curious about how much they had gotten in comparison to their fellows.    Finally, with a sealed and notarized packet containing Inva’s payment, they left the bank and made their way back to the gate to Sigil, and from there ultimately back to Tradegate where Marcus’s servants had prepared them rooms.***    Meanwhile, in their continued absence, Inva made her way into Marcus’s villa in Tradegate. She was smiling and her tail was twitching side to side with pleasure, given the information that she had found on Velkyn and ‘Ankita’. Of course, while she was smiling with glee, none of the servants and guards actually managed to see this given that she never announced her presence to the staff, nor did she actually enter through the main gate.    In fact, for the next two hours, the tiefling proceeded to make herself at home in the villa, and profusely enjoyed making the servants ill at ease and uncomfortable. She might as well have been invisible to them, lurking in the shadows as she was, giving the edgy staff a fright or two as they might notice a pair of eyes glimmering in a shady corner of a room, hear a few clipped hoof beats echoing in an apparently vacant hallway, the metallic drag of her tail spade against a hard surface behind them when they weren’t looking, or a soft chuckle and nothing else apparent when they actually went looking for her.    Ultimately, after her hours of fun with the staff, she simply waltzed into the kitchen and helped herself to a snack, smiling cheerily at the startled cooks, none of whom had been told that she had arrived, before walking back out to her room as if nothing had happened. Back there and by herself, she simply chuckled and waited for the others to arrive back from their trip to Rigus.***    Ankita, Phaedra really, in the hours after they had returned from Acheron’s gatetown, stood in her room that had been given to her by one of Marcus’s servants and pondered how best to approach telling her companions about what she really was. They’d already realized that she wasn’t simply a tiefling, but was something more, and it would cause problems if they felt she was keeping secrets from them that might cause them harm later. It was high time to reveal her heritage to them.    She walked out into the common room where the others were sitting and striking up various conversations, trying to feel a bit more welcome and a bit more at home. Marcus was being perhaps a bit more nonchalant and informal about allowing them to stay at a nobleman’s estate than was proper for such things. In fact, outside of the original offer of a place to stay, there hadn’t been a really firm and formal invitation, nor had their been any actual effort at hosting.    Velkyn glanced at Marcus during one of the many random, long pauses, with a look that seemed to carry a questioning ‘…so…?’.    Marcus gave back a look of ‘what?’ without giving a reply.    Victor glanced down at the ground and Inva momentarily considered messing with the staff again as Velkyn looked around for Phaedra.    “So – are we um, staying here or…?” The mage asked. “Or, you know, do you know of a good inn here in Tradegate?”    The awkwardness was broken, and Marcus spared any indignity of answering the question, as Phaedra stepped into the room. She wore a light blue strapless dress rather than the more functional robes she had worn during their test together. It was made of silky material and while tight above the waist it fell more loosely below that point, ending about mid thigh.    “You’re suddenly all dressed up.” Velkyn said as he noticed her a fraction of a second before the others turned their heads at her entry.    “Wanted to be a bit more comfortable.” She answered, “And I had a few things to discuss with all of you if you’re not already too busy with anything else.”    “Something to discuss?” Inva asked innocently, with a tap of her bladed tail against the leg of the chair next to her, offering Phaedra a spot to sit.    “So what’s on your mind?” Victor asked calmly.    Phaedra clasped her hands in front of herself nervously before she began.    “Some of you probably figured out already that I’m a bit more than just a run of the mill tiefling.”    “I’d figured,” Victor said. “The silver allergy for one thing was a bit extreme for a tiefling.”    “And the way the yugoloths behaved around you was… odd.” Marcus said.    “That got my attention too.” Inva said with a smug grin. “And the telepathy.”    “Well, for starters, my name isn’t Ankita.” Phaedra said. “That was just an assumed name, one of a couple I have, and I used it simply because I was nervous and I didn’t know who any of you were. I wasn’t certain if any of you wouldn’t simply react in a negative way to what I was.”    “Which is?” Marcus asked. “I mean, if we’re going to be working with you, I really need to know what you are in case it becomes an issue later on. I need to know who I’m trusting.”    Phaedra grumbled as Velkyn looked awkwardly at Victor.    “Alright,” She said. “But don’t blame me if you or the servants run screaming.”    They looked at her curiously as her physical features shifted and melted away, reconforming to her true form. Gone was the odd but attractive tiefling, and in her place was, well, they weren’t entirely sure what she was. They might have thought she was an arcanaloth, but the muzzle was too blunt and the colors a bit off. They might have though she was a lupinal but the ears were a bit large and the muzzle a bit too tapered, and her overall body was too lean and not as muscular as that type of guardinal typically was. And of course there was the color of her coat, a swirling mixture of light and dark patterns, a monochrome motif of blacks, whites, and grays that sprawled across her exposed flesh. Her fur was like a piece of surreal Xaositect expressionist artwork framed by nearly twenty earrings that dotted her jackal’esque ears like ornaments on a slightly fiendish tree.    Phaedra blinked her purple tinted eyes and smiled, showing fangs that were somewhat like a wolf, somewhat like a jackal. Honestly she looked like someone had taken a ‘loth and a guardinal, melted them down like a bottled Farastu and swirled them together, herself being the resulting bastard end product.    Velkyn smiled knowingly as the others stared in curiosity and confusion, though Inva was grinning at the accuracy of her earlier suspicions, and the information she had tracked down.        She headed off the questions by quickly answering them preemptively.    “One of my parents was a celestial, one was a risen fiend. They met in Sigil, spatially speaking, and met somewhere in the middle metaphorically speaking, which sorta explains me.” She said, twitching one ear slightly, causing the dozens of earrings to jangle lightly.    Phaedra silently bit her tongue on her answers, not wanting really to get into the issue of her parents, and any questions they might bring up. She didn’t want to drag them into it, or really reveal who they actually were. None of her companions pressed the issue however, and her assurances that neither branch branches of her family had anything out for her, or any lingering attempts to influence her, did remove most of their doubts about trusting her or working with her. Of course a little white lie didn’t harm anyone, not all the time… well not this time anyway.    “Well I think you win the prize for which one of us has the most unique heritage.” Inva said as she sipped on a drink that she’d helped herself to in the kitchen earlier on in the day. “And your one step ahead of me because I don’t have a clue what my parents were, aside from there being a Tanar’ri or two or three involved in there somewhere.”    The tiefling flicked her tail in the air and tapped one hoof against the floor.    “I swear,” Velkyn said. “You remind me of another tiefling my father knew, just a bit more lucid than she was.”    “I suppose I’ll take that as a compliment then.” Inva replied. “Your father knows interesting people.”    Velkyn paused, a bit taken aback by her insinuation that she knew more, but since she didn’t continue, at least not then, in front of the others, he held his tongue.    “For me, it’s a bit obvious what my heritage is.” Velkyn said after he recovered. “Well, most of my heritage is obvious.”    “Human and drow?” Victor asked, himself appearing wholly sun elf in ancestry. He left unsaid his initial reaction to the wizard of the thought of ‘one of the dark ones!’ and the urge to smite him.    “My mother was drow, and my father was half human, an interesting bloodline, so between the two of them I have an interesting mix to work with.” Velkyn said. “Of course, while the human part of me might improve my stature, some of the weirdness from my father’s bloodline snags that right away from me.”    Velkyn was indeed rather slight, and the shortest member of the group, with Inva even being marginally taller than him.    “And for the love of all that you might hold holy, or unholy, whatever suits you really, don’t assume I’m like any typical drow. In fact my sister and I both sort of walked away from our mother’s side of the family, at her urging, for various reasons.” He continued.    “Spiders –everywhere-…” Velkyn muttered with a shudder.    Victor picked up next, introducing his cohort Garibaldi, bound to him out of loyalty not borne of nobility like his brother and Francesca, but by having saved the man’s life some years back and having the service offered as willing payment according to Garibaldi’s culture’s custom.    Then, the cleric moved onto a little bit about himself.    “Well, it’s probably obvious that I’m a gold elf, or a sun elf, depending on where you’re from.” Victor said before pointing towards his brother. “And yes, we’re brother. Not half brothers or anything else. All of the tiefling bloodline seemed to have jumped into Marcus rather than me.”    “I was about to ask that actually.” Phaedra said with a chuckle.    “And it was actually a surprise to see Marcus again,” Victor said. “We sort of went our own way a number of years back, and outside of some letters or sending magic, we haven’t really managed to keep close since we left home and went off on our own. He was the heir, being a year or two older than me, and I had joined the clergy of our world’s sun god.”    “So, where are you both actually from originally, the prime I assume?” Velkyn asked.    “From the prime.” Marcus said. “A small nation of around a hundred thousand citizens, broken up into a dozen baronies where our parents ruled as king and queen up till around ten years ago.”    “Being older than Victor I was raised from an early age to be next in line to rule, and I was sent to a military academy at age ten to train in strategy, swordsmanship, rhetoric, and all of the varied intricacies of commanding respect and influence. Now it was in my first year there that…”     All said, Velkyn’s question was probably the wrong thing to ask because it opened up a floodgate of detail from Marcus, probably too much information, and in a droning monotone. Either he hadn’t had enough sleep lately, or being back with his brother had made him feel awkward, but the nobleman wasn’t making the others feel comfortable as he carried on about his early life on the prime. Apparently he and Victor’s parents had been killed in a coup and they’d fled their world, with Marcus going into somewhat grim detail about his own plans to eventually take back his kingdom and kill the ones who had killed his parents.    Even Phaedra, the product of –interesting- parentage, flattened her ears and gave a tilted head to the whole monotone diatribe.    Are you sure that you’re related to him Victor? The half-‘loth broadcast into the cleric’s mind.    Victor glanced back at her with an expression of ‘what do you want me to do about it?’    Eventually though, Marcus finished and a silence descended over the room.    “…so…” Velkyn said uneasily.    A minute or so passed, and the look of odd unease from most all of them was broken, along with the stilted pause in conversation, as one of Marcus’s servants entered the room and cleared his throat.    “Sirs and Madams?” He said, holding out a slim note in his hand. “There was a runner from one of the local guilds here to deliver a letter.”    Victor thanked the servant and took the leader, glancing over it briefly and waiting for him to leave the room before reading it out loud.    “It’s from our recent employers,” He said. “Right on time when they said they’d contact us. And it says:”    My employers have discussed your recent performance and matched it against their current aims, and they have given me a number of potential jobs for you. To that end I would like to meet with you two days from now to discuss this along with a number of other more mundane issues.    I look forward to seeing you, and to having a more proper introduction versus our first meeting, this time not at swordpoint. I’ll be in a private room on the second story of the Prancing Nightmare Inn on the corner of Hags Head Avenue and Ebon’s Walk in the city of Center on the Waste.-    Aspaseka</blockquote>

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