== OPEN ==
No guards bar your way into Xirr, but you must pass through a gauntlet of hungry stairs and out stretched hands – and then there is the stench. Boils, pustules, and cancerous flesh are in evidence everywhere you look, and most of the despairing people no longer even make a token effort to ward of the buzzing miasma of flies.
The stench of the city is overwhelming, the reek of human effluent, rotting flesh, and a faint sickly sweet floral scent combine into an eye watering reek. You quickly note the open sewers filled with filth and floating corpses all oozing slowly downwards towards the cities center..
But despite the horror life goes on, more affluent citizens move hurriedly through the stale bodies accompanied by body guards. Those with coin wear masks and are festooned with garish jewellery depicting the skull backed by crossed picks that is the symbol of their vile god. The mark of the Scaberous One is everywhere, hung across doorways, tattooed onto diseased flesh and thrust into your faces by hawkers in the form of amulets to ward off illness.
After ten minutes of moving through the filthy shanty structures you come upon once beautiful domed buildings, now marred, grubby, and in disrepair. You begin to see the Plague Priests themselves robed in sickly green or purple and either pristinely unblemished or grotesques wracked with all sorts of sores and diseases yet moving with strength and vigor.
Finally you reach the true heart of Xirr the great open air temple of Xarr heralded by the skies over it black with flies. Your destination is not within thankfully, but before the temple, and your contact the beggar known as Bum Face Javi. You can't miss him you had been told and as you approach you can quickly see why.
Bum Face Javi sits crossed legged at the bottom of the steps leading up to the temple, two tumorous masses hand down from his forehead one reaching to just over his right eye, the other hanging down to partially cover his mouth upon the left. Even without these disfigurements the elderly beggar is no oil painting, spindly limbs a pot belly and yellow teeth would put off all but the blindest harlot. A fat warty rat lies next to him blinking up with beady eyes.
“Coppers, and silvers, fer the glum, ye couldn't give te worse off I've got a face like a bum! A rat fer a pet and a thirst fer rum!” The old beggar sings out rattling a rusty metal cup meaningfully at everyone who passes within twenty feet of him. You recall the passphrase you were given, with ease - “Hey old timer let me buy you a meat pie.”
[sblock=OOC]To be clear one of you needs to give the passphrase.[/sblock]