Skin Deep

[Aldern Foxglove]

== 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]

 

[Aldern Foxglove]

[SBLOCK=OOC]Open for business. I am currently going over characters and have seen no significant errors thus far btw.[/sblock]

 

[kinem]

Skendra Fen glances about cautiously, uncomfortable with what he sees and not knowing quite what to expect today. As usual, he is clad in a tan outfit that nearly blends with his brownish-red skin, with a simple brown cap on his head (concealing his headband), and most importantly in this city, wearing gloves. The mage armor spell he cast just before entering the city doesn't reassure him as much as the gloves. His morningstar hangs at his side, making his gait slightly awkward, but warning away those who might be looking for easy prey.

Looking at his companions, he decides that the sooner this business gets done, the better.

"Hey old timer let me buy you a meat pie."

 

[jackslate45]

The animal at Anaerion's feet growls at Bum Face Jav, and he reaches down and pets the leopard's ears.

"n.n..nnoow Neko, b.b.be nice." The leopard stops growling, but still looks at the beggar. Anaerion stands back up, looking at Skendra. "W..we sure this him?"

Clad in a brown tunic that matches too well with the buildings, and held up by a belt. A green clock hangs around his back, and two quivers hang on either side of his backpack. A bow is strung at his waist, as though yearning to be drawn.

[sblock=Spells Prepared]
1. Aspect of the Falcon
2. Resist Energy
[/sblock]

 

[Aldern Foxglove]

Javi cackles, "Ah a pie is it? Well just so happens I know te best Pie Shop in town!" With a grunt of exertion he pushes himself up onto his feat and begins hobbling away from the temple making for an alley way between two tall domed buildings. Reaching the alley mouth he beckons you onwards.

The rat gives Neko a worried look before hurriedly waddling after its master.

"Now it might be that certain pie enthusiasts have taken an unwholesome interest in old BFJ's favorite emporium of pastorial delight. And happen they might be trying to follow him to this promised land. Which means old Javi's gonna have te take ye there via the scenic route, so have yer, uh, large cutlery at the ready if ye please."

 

[jkason]

Ciperel der Prad'm, human oracle

Ciperel's eyes went wide as they entered the city.

"Gods, it's worse than when I left," the small, wiry man said, unable for a moment to move. Then he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, coughed from having taken said breath, then opened his eyes again, gaze firmly set well ahead.

His club foot usually meant that Ciperel stood out, especially when he walked with his obvious limp. Here, however, he was just another 'unfortunate' among people who were far worse off. And even with what seemed his heavy gait, the young man somehow managed to avoid every unsavory piece of garbage that littered the ground, as if he were never truly stepping in the filth.

He remained quiet as Skendra made contact, though he found himself readying his crossbow as their guide made references to someone who might be following them. He glanced about casually, though his sharp, bright eyes took in every detail they could in that brief survey.

 

[Aldern Foxglove]

[sblock=jkason]See PM.[/sblock]

 

[HolyMan]

{{ Torma be praised! }} Leopold thought as he pulled his long blade from it's sheathe. The holy warrior had gone silent and moody since it wa decided he should 'cover up' before entering the city.

He now wore a ragged cloak that was to big for him so it would complete cover his armor. His plate and mail had the star and sword that was the symbol of Torma's worshippers all about it. Leopold's shield was over one shoulder and the he was slightly stooped as he walked, so anyone who glanced at him might think him a hunchback.

{{ When will this skulking end? }} he thought holding the sword partly covered by the cloak as well as he waited.

[sblock=OOC] No spells yet just wanted to get into the RPing

[/sblock]

 

[jackslate45]

{{ Torma be praised! }} Leopold thought as he pulled his long blade from it's sheathe. The holy warrior had gone silent and moody since it wa decided he should 'cover up' before entering the city.

He now wore a ragged cloak that was to big for him so it would complete cover his armor. His plate and mail had the star and sword that was the symbol of Torma's worshippers all about it. Leopold's shield was over one shoulder and the he was slightly stooped as he walked, so anyone who glanced at him might think him a hunchback.

{{ When will this skulking end? }} he thought holding the sword partly covered by the cloak as well as he waited.

Anaerion's hand drifted to his bow, and unstrung it. "Th..th..the Scenic route?"

Looking at Neko, he gives a strange whistle. The leopard stands on guard, and moves closer in to guard him.

[sblock=ouch]My bad...shouldnt post half asleep[/sblock]

 

[jkason]

Ciperel clears his throat, as if coughing from the stench though he's actually gaining his companions' attention.

"Looks like our guide has the right of it," he tells the others under his breath. "I count three men in rags paying attention to us, off that way." he coughs again, using the action to jerk his head for a moment in the proper direction. "And while there are all sorts of afflictions in this city, I'm pretty sure these three are nonhuman. I see a skull covered in pulsing tendrils of rotten green flesh."

((rolls to follow))