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<blockquote data-quote="Miles Pilitus" data-source="post: 5372749" data-attributes="member: 41553"><p><strong>Episode 3 – The Luckless Fools Bogus Journey</strong></p><p></p><p>Running from Ragnarok, we escaped through the portal it seems the giants had used to enter Ysgard, a straight road from Niflheimr. Except it seems Manuel wasn't entirely honest. The portal was to Helheim, the personal kip of the lady of the hairy dead. Note to self: personally examine all portals. Analyze portal is your friend. The realms of Powers aren't. But we were where we were. Kára didn't seem terribly happen about joining us, offering violence to the person that pushed her through the portal. We all pointed to the horse, and the horse attempted to look innocent for its part.</p><p></p><p>But before we could get into a really nice argument (Why the hell did we stop to argue when we were in a divine realm?), we caught the attention of one of Hel's Handmaidens, the dark Solar Röta. She was polite and curious to us portal-trippers, asking why we had come to Hell's realms to wait for judgment. Funny enough, I didn't notice that we were standing in a queue until the Agent had pointed it out. By the twilight, I hate divinely morphic realms. Simon turns on the full charm to try and convince the nice lady with the black wings that we weren't there for judgment, that we had come here by mistake (Which actually would have worked, intention is a large part of the game after all). Rotá asks if we actually did come here blind, and if none of us knew where the portal out of a collapsing plane lead. Eyes swivel to Manuel, who gives some defense about collapsing planes throwing all logic out the window. I point out that it might have been a bad time for a Cipher solution before Simon suddenly snaps the mental network closed with a glare at the imposing Valkyrie (As opposed to the shell-shocked one still not considering blaming her horse).</p><p></p><p> * You didn't have any other escape paths? What about shifting along the Great Road to the Beastlands, the Outlands, Shad– </p><p></p><p> Because Manuel had presented himself as a experienced traveler, and we thought he had the best option. </p><p></p><p>The best Simon is able to wrangle out of Rótã is a expedited judgment (after asking the very stupid question of should we run). We agree and are told to move ourselves to Hel's hypocritical and self-serving judgment center, but we have to bring our Valk. Kára looks like she's about the try and throw down with a greater servant of a Power in the Power's realm, but suddenly she goes stiff and starts marching towards the front of the line. Rotå smiles, I roll my eyes, Xallis looks confused and Manuel nods to Simon in thanks.</p><p></p><p>We march towards the imposing stone keep, which is of course, gray. Everything here's gray. Even the Black Valk is monochrome, with nothing truly white in this entire <img src="data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAAAAAP///yH5BAEAAAAALAAAAAABAAEAAAIBRAA7" class="smilie smilie--sprite smilie--sprite1" alt=":)" title="Smile :)" loading="lazy" data-shortname=":)" /><img src="data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAAAAAP///yH5BAEAAAAALAAAAAABAAEAAAIBRAA7" class="smilie smilie--sprite smilie--sprite1" alt=":)" title="Smile :)" loading="lazy" data-shortname=":)" /><img src="data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAAAAAP///yH5BAEAAAAALAAAAAABAAEAAAIBRAA7" class="smilie smilie--sprite smilie--sprite1" alt=":)" title="Smile :)" loading="lazy" data-shortname=":)" /><img src="data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAAAAAP///yH5BAEAAAAALAAAAAABAAEAAAIBRAA7" class="smilie smilie--sprite smilie--sprite1" alt=":)" title="Smile :)" loading="lazy" data-shortname=":)" />ing plane. If I know I'm coming here next time, I'm going to bring a rainbow flag.</p><p></p><p>Just for contrariness, mind you.</p><p></p><p>Once we enter, we see that the entire place is built to the scale of Frost Giants, which appear to be the most numerous among Hel's servitors. Manuel makes a comment that the place has really good architecture. I look around at the heavy-handed stone work used to put this place together. About the only thing that can be said for it is they don't slather on the mortar, though the use of some would probably have helped. Remé and I point out all the ways in which the work is that of an overly-muscled toddler, and even a god should be ashamed to live in a place like this. It helped pass the long walk towards Hels throne/court room.</p><p></p><p>When we arrive to a grand hall, there's a big red carpet running down the center of the room up to a empty twenty-foot tall throne in a central position on a raised platform. We all hesitate (far too many cultures kill people for touching the red carpet if they aren't supposed to). Rôta (who is now behind us, but I'll be feebleminded if she was actually walking with us) commands us to walk halfway towards the platform, then kneel before the Goddess when she appears. Funny thing is, I have this problem with my knees. They don't bend that way on their own. But I walk with everyone else up to the halfway point.</p><p></p><p>At which point Hel's entrance is made. Her throne rotates 180º, revealing her sitting in her throne in all her half-perfect, half rotted glory. Everyone else kneels except for Kára and myself (certainly for vastly different reasons). I'm probably taking a bit long to decide whether to bow or stand straight up when the false face turns towards me and says I disapprove of Her existence. I'm about to go into a more precise explanation then the straw-man she just propped up, but suddenly I shut up and someone "helps" me kneel. Even money between Simon, Rotä, or Hel herself.</p><p></p><p>Hel turns now towards Kára and makes a motion with her true hand. At the beckoning of that rotted limb, Helgi is lifted up from Kára's arms and floated into a position halfway between us and the throne. Hel says that Helgi has been brought here for judgment, and the servant of Odin seems unable to contradict the goddess. Hel rips the spirit of Helgi out of his petitioner shell and asks how he died. Simon describes the fool rushing a Giant off the mountain with both falling to their doom. Hel says this is not the whole of the story and an illusion play forms itself from the glowing form of Helgi's spirit. It shows the man and the giant grappling down the mountain, with Helgi gaining the upper hand as they hit the final long drop and cushions his fall against the sharp rocks at the bottom with the giant, who arrives at the bottom of the mountain in a terminal fashion, leaving the body-boarding Einherjar mostly unhurt. Helgi stands, checks that he is intact, then begins to flex and admire his own muscles. At which point a rock flies from down the mountain and removes what's left of his brains. I flinch, and see my friends doing the same while Kára places her head in her hands with a deep and annoyed sigh.</p><p></p><p>Hel says that this is all the judgment that is needed, that Helgi did not die in battle, but in an accident and his soul belongs to Hel. Kára begins to sputter and looked to be trying to compose her thoughts. So was Simon. Damn it, everybody was trying to figure out the right thing to say, so no one was saying anything. The stupid bastard killed himself in that fall, just as cleanly as if he died. He started those rocks rolling, and his death was the final part of that act of violence. And I said as much. Hel sits there for a minute, pretending to think. Then she says that she may allow us to take Helgi with us, if we provide her with four impossible things: Sight of a Blind man, Virtue of a Liar, Plume of a Dragon and the Ghost of a Memory.</p><p></p><p>The ghost of a memory. heh. Well, I had planned on dealing with Hellbringer at some point. Honestly, I've already got ideas on how to collect most of these. I think it's a failing of the Norse frame of mind. There is no such thing as impossible. There is nothing that cannot be found.</p><p></p><p> * You do realize that the Norse typically create artifacts out of those impossible things, right Abe? </p><p></p><p> So what? A falling pantheon leaves behind one more bit of debris for the Guvners to puzzle about in a few millenia. </p><p></p><p>And then she turns her true face to the rest of us, offering us the ability to leave if we agree to assist. We agree, because really, what else are we supposed to do with our backs against the wall? I ask for permission to leave, and she denies us that, saying that we have to leave the same way everyone else does, through the tunnels. The tunnels, which are guarded by her own ur-Hellhound, Garmr. I explain this as we look down the entrance to the tunnels. (Because the god pulled off another one of those wonderful scene changes on us. Hate)</p><p></p><p>Kára rushes Simon as soon as she realizes that we aren't in Hel's presence anymore. She tackles Simon to the ground before the rest of us have a chance to react. Remé and I aren't sure how far our little Valkyrie will push this, so we both seek to restrain her with magic, with me using Shadow Pin to try and get her to stand still long enough to calm down. Kára shakes off whatever telekinetic hold is placed on her and slugs Simon before he can stumble out of her reach. Remé gets in Kára's face and says if she ever does touches her master again, Remé will personally destroy her. A moment of stand-off occurs before the valk lets of a burst of sunlight, blasting out her shadow and canceling my spell and walking back to her horse.</p><p></p><p>Which just leaves us with the Dog that's going to try and kill us. Yay.</p><p></p><p>Xallis says that there's a way to bribe the dog, but he can't think of it right now. Simon fills it in (from where I have no idea), we offer the dog a cake soaked in our blood. Ròtá interjects that that only works for those who have given bread to the poor and bids us farewell, leaving to go off and be a puppet somewhere else. Jonathon says he's not given bread per-say, but that his crew was not called the Chain-Breaker Pirates for nothing. Simon, Xallis, and I exchange a glance, thinking about our lives on Octogoth and decide to risk it. Manuel and Camille are the most hesitant, but eventually agree, assuming we have any food with which to prepare our offering. Xallis reaches into his bag, pulling out a small sack of flour, a rotten cucumber, 3 fresh eggs and finally a long string of fish with a triumphant ah-ha.</p><p></p><p>Debate ensues on how exact we need to be with the concept of cake. We eventually decide to give it a chance, each cutting ourselves to soak a fish in our blood. Cammi gets a real hungry look before hitting her little blood-bag hard. Xallis makes a comment about her drinking problem and Simon decides to play with that hand rather then explain that we're at a roulette table. The tunnel is straight, smooth, and remarkable short. And our passageway is blocked by the short stubby tail and arse-hole of a giant dog.</p><p></p><p>Xallis taps it on the back of the leg before stepping out of drop range. This seems to get the dogs attention and it turns around in the tunnel to face us, four red eyes glowing with hate and jaws dripping with blood. Xallis holds up the string of fish with a "nice doggy." Garmr lunges at Xallis, snatches the string of fish in one bit and swallows it down. It then growls in a discontented voice about kindhearted travelers and tourists. I smile, shrug and we ask if we can be on our way. It doesn't seem to please the guardian of Hel's gates, but he lets us pass. And so we emerge from Helheim into Neieflheim proper. It's not an improvement. It won't be an improvement until we're out of the Gray Wastes.</p><p></p><p>Manuel asks us to gather hands so he can try to get us out of there. We gather hands, he starts fiddling with his keyring, causing a great deal of nothing. I guess that it's because we're still in a divine realm, and are still under the command that we have to leave in the normal fashion. Manuel and I discuss for a few minutes what the best way to do that probably is, with him finally showing that he has at least some understanding of what it takes to walk the planes. We decide that the Styx, or its tributary in this region, the river Gjöll, is our best bet for "normal" passage out of here. We take a ferry to the top layer of some plane, outside of a divine realm and we just Plane Shift back to Sigil. I suggest Acheron to avoid any Blood War problems. We just have to deal with the Gereleth boatmen. After explaining this to Simon, he asks for a moment to check something, then sits down and comes the closest I've ever seen him come to performing a ritual.</p><p></p><p> * Well, it is uncommon for them. I don't think that Psionics is good at the big and complicated things that you need rituals to do. They're better then most mages at the delicate mental things though. </p><p></p><p>After a few minutes he gets up and says to follow him, he'll know what to do when we get there. It's a couple of mile trek from the cave mouth to the ferry station, during which we all get several lifetimes fill of evil gray scenery. Once we arrive at a section of the river with the boatmen lined up like taxis at an airport–</p><p></p><p> ~Huh? </p><p></p><p>–Simon veers straight for one and enters into negotiations. After using a few of the dragon's baubles to try and gauge the ferry-fiend's price (with a silent warning from Manuel and myself not to offer any silver objects), Simon pulls out the leather armor and puts it forward as his offer. The fiend says it's worthless to him, but he'll take us to a Mercane and if it's worth at least twenty-five thousand jink he'll consider it done. (It seems the horse is 5 thousand gold all on its own. Kara dismisses it and the price suddenly drops.) Simon bargains him into saying if it's worth more then that, we get change. We agree to his charge and load into the large high-walled barge. Kára goes as far away from the Gereleth as possible. Everyone stays as far away from the walls as possible.</p><p></p><p>After a quiet and tense hour of passage we arrive at a small hut at the edge of the river with a dock. Everyone walks into the HUTIS (It's bigger on the inside), and several of my companions get their first view of a Mercane, the tall, spindly, blue and four-armed traders in all things magical throughout every part of the known. Given that he may be the least weird thing to happen to us today, it seems that most of them have been shocked enough into accepting the strangeness that is the life of a Portal-Jumper. We present the armor (and all the trimmings that go with it, matched set) to the merchant. He places it on a scale and says the market value of the set is 35,000 gold pieces. Simon asks if he should try and haggle, the words "market price" sounding a little definite to his ears. I let him know that his instincts are guiding him right. We make the change, the 'loth taking his in Gold Bars that he caresses with the closest thing I've every seen from a 'loth to compassion or desire.</p><p></p><p> * Barring Akin. </p><p></p><p> He's just <img src="data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAAAAAP///yH5BAEAAAAALAAAAAABAAEAAAIBRAA7" class="smilie smilie--sprite smilie--sprite1" alt=":)" title="Smile :)" loading="lazy" data-shortname=":)" /><img src="data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAAAAAP///yH5BAEAAAAALAAAAAABAAEAAAIBRAA7" class="smilie smilie--sprite smilie--sprite1" alt=":)" title="Smile :)" loading="lazy" data-shortname=":)" /><img src="data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAAAAAP///yH5BAEAAAAALAAAAAABAAEAAAIBRAA7" class="smilie smilie--sprite smilie--sprite1" alt=":)" title="Smile :)" loading="lazy" data-shortname=":)" /><img src="data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAAAAAP///yH5BAEAAAAALAAAAAABAAEAAAIBRAA7" class="smilie smilie--sprite smilie--sprite1" alt=":)" title="Smile :)" loading="lazy" data-shortname=":)" />ing strange. </p><p></p><p>We take our payment in the form of 3 diamonds the size of a thumbnail after I confer with Xallis over what our worst-case needs might be (always be ready to raise both the roof and the dead). Our trade concluded, we all get back on the boat and start the proper journey towards Acheron. Our boatman keeps giving us all the hairy eyeball for about fifteen minutes, then sighs and rapidly pushes us down a fork in the river. The boat shakes for a brief minute as we cross currents and planes. After we all look up from gaining our footing we've crossed over and in the sky above us hang the country-sized cubes of iron that comprise the this layer of the plane.</p><p></p><p>Our dour boatman pulls up to the shore then tells us to get off his bloody boat before complaining that he needs to hire bodyguards. Xallis points out that they would probably be called brigands actually as the last of us step of the boat. The Gereleth agrees, pushes his boat off the shore, vanishing before he reaches the middle of the river. We all gather hands again so Manuel can fiddle with his keys some more. This time, whatever he was trying works: the distant sounds of constant battle are suddenly replaced by the loud sounds of partying. A quick glance around tells me that we're in the Civic Festhall and have arrived in the middle of a party. We're back in Sigil once more. I find the nearest tray of drinks and down the first one I can grab.</p><p></p><p>And then the doors slam open as a hundred new people rush into the party shouting "Master" and looking to Simon. oh boy.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Miles Pilitus, post: 5372749, member: 41553"] [b]Episode 3 – The Luckless Fools Bogus Journey[/b] Running from Ragnarok, we escaped through the portal it seems the giants had used to enter Ysgard, a straight road from Niflheimr. Except it seems Manuel wasn't entirely honest. The portal was to Helheim, the personal kip of the lady of the hairy dead. Note to self: personally examine all portals. Analyze portal is your friend. The realms of Powers aren't. But we were where we were. Kára didn't seem terribly happen about joining us, offering violence to the person that pushed her through the portal. We all pointed to the horse, and the horse attempted to look innocent for its part. But before we could get into a really nice argument (Why the hell did we stop to argue when we were in a divine realm?), we caught the attention of one of Hel's Handmaidens, the dark Solar Röta. She was polite and curious to us portal-trippers, asking why we had come to Hell's realms to wait for judgment. Funny enough, I didn't notice that we were standing in a queue until the Agent had pointed it out. By the twilight, I hate divinely morphic realms. Simon turns on the full charm to try and convince the nice lady with the black wings that we weren't there for judgment, that we had come here by mistake (Which actually would have worked, intention is a large part of the game after all). Rotá asks if we actually did come here blind, and if none of us knew where the portal out of a collapsing plane lead. Eyes swivel to Manuel, who gives some defense about collapsing planes throwing all logic out the window. I point out that it might have been a bad time for a Cipher solution before Simon suddenly snaps the mental network closed with a glare at the imposing Valkyrie (As opposed to the shell-shocked one still not considering blaming her horse). * You didn't have any other escape paths? What about shifting along the Great Road to the Beastlands, the Outlands, Shad– Because Manuel had presented himself as a experienced traveler, and we thought he had the best option. The best Simon is able to wrangle out of Rótã is a expedited judgment (after asking the very stupid question of should we run). We agree and are told to move ourselves to Hel's hypocritical and self-serving judgment center, but we have to bring our Valk. Kára looks like she's about the try and throw down with a greater servant of a Power in the Power's realm, but suddenly she goes stiff and starts marching towards the front of the line. Rotå smiles, I roll my eyes, Xallis looks confused and Manuel nods to Simon in thanks. We march towards the imposing stone keep, which is of course, gray. Everything here's gray. Even the Black Valk is monochrome, with nothing truly white in this entire :):):):)ing plane. If I know I'm coming here next time, I'm going to bring a rainbow flag. Just for contrariness, mind you. Once we enter, we see that the entire place is built to the scale of Frost Giants, which appear to be the most numerous among Hel's servitors. Manuel makes a comment that the place has really good architecture. I look around at the heavy-handed stone work used to put this place together. About the only thing that can be said for it is they don't slather on the mortar, though the use of some would probably have helped. Remé and I point out all the ways in which the work is that of an overly-muscled toddler, and even a god should be ashamed to live in a place like this. It helped pass the long walk towards Hels throne/court room. When we arrive to a grand hall, there's a big red carpet running down the center of the room up to a empty twenty-foot tall throne in a central position on a raised platform. We all hesitate (far too many cultures kill people for touching the red carpet if they aren't supposed to). Rôta (who is now behind us, but I'll be feebleminded if she was actually walking with us) commands us to walk halfway towards the platform, then kneel before the Goddess when she appears. Funny thing is, I have this problem with my knees. They don't bend that way on their own. But I walk with everyone else up to the halfway point. At which point Hel's entrance is made. Her throne rotates 180º, revealing her sitting in her throne in all her half-perfect, half rotted glory. Everyone else kneels except for Kára and myself (certainly for vastly different reasons). I'm probably taking a bit long to decide whether to bow or stand straight up when the false face turns towards me and says I disapprove of Her existence. I'm about to go into a more precise explanation then the straw-man she just propped up, but suddenly I shut up and someone "helps" me kneel. Even money between Simon, Rotä, or Hel herself. Hel turns now towards Kára and makes a motion with her true hand. At the beckoning of that rotted limb, Helgi is lifted up from Kára's arms and floated into a position halfway between us and the throne. Hel says that Helgi has been brought here for judgment, and the servant of Odin seems unable to contradict the goddess. Hel rips the spirit of Helgi out of his petitioner shell and asks how he died. Simon describes the fool rushing a Giant off the mountain with both falling to their doom. Hel says this is not the whole of the story and an illusion play forms itself from the glowing form of Helgi's spirit. It shows the man and the giant grappling down the mountain, with Helgi gaining the upper hand as they hit the final long drop and cushions his fall against the sharp rocks at the bottom with the giant, who arrives at the bottom of the mountain in a terminal fashion, leaving the body-boarding Einherjar mostly unhurt. Helgi stands, checks that he is intact, then begins to flex and admire his own muscles. At which point a rock flies from down the mountain and removes what's left of his brains. I flinch, and see my friends doing the same while Kára places her head in her hands with a deep and annoyed sigh. Hel says that this is all the judgment that is needed, that Helgi did not die in battle, but in an accident and his soul belongs to Hel. Kára begins to sputter and looked to be trying to compose her thoughts. So was Simon. Damn it, everybody was trying to figure out the right thing to say, so no one was saying anything. The stupid bastard killed himself in that fall, just as cleanly as if he died. He started those rocks rolling, and his death was the final part of that act of violence. And I said as much. Hel sits there for a minute, pretending to think. Then she says that she may allow us to take Helgi with us, if we provide her with four impossible things: Sight of a Blind man, Virtue of a Liar, Plume of a Dragon and the Ghost of a Memory. The ghost of a memory. heh. Well, I had planned on dealing with Hellbringer at some point. Honestly, I've already got ideas on how to collect most of these. I think it's a failing of the Norse frame of mind. There is no such thing as impossible. There is nothing that cannot be found. * You do realize that the Norse typically create artifacts out of those impossible things, right Abe? So what? A falling pantheon leaves behind one more bit of debris for the Guvners to puzzle about in a few millenia. And then she turns her true face to the rest of us, offering us the ability to leave if we agree to assist. We agree, because really, what else are we supposed to do with our backs against the wall? I ask for permission to leave, and she denies us that, saying that we have to leave the same way everyone else does, through the tunnels. The tunnels, which are guarded by her own ur-Hellhound, Garmr. I explain this as we look down the entrance to the tunnels. (Because the god pulled off another one of those wonderful scene changes on us. Hate) Kára rushes Simon as soon as she realizes that we aren't in Hel's presence anymore. She tackles Simon to the ground before the rest of us have a chance to react. Remé and I aren't sure how far our little Valkyrie will push this, so we both seek to restrain her with magic, with me using Shadow Pin to try and get her to stand still long enough to calm down. Kára shakes off whatever telekinetic hold is placed on her and slugs Simon before he can stumble out of her reach. Remé gets in Kára's face and says if she ever does touches her master again, Remé will personally destroy her. A moment of stand-off occurs before the valk lets of a burst of sunlight, blasting out her shadow and canceling my spell and walking back to her horse. Which just leaves us with the Dog that's going to try and kill us. Yay. Xallis says that there's a way to bribe the dog, but he can't think of it right now. Simon fills it in (from where I have no idea), we offer the dog a cake soaked in our blood. Ròtá interjects that that only works for those who have given bread to the poor and bids us farewell, leaving to go off and be a puppet somewhere else. Jonathon says he's not given bread per-say, but that his crew was not called the Chain-Breaker Pirates for nothing. Simon, Xallis, and I exchange a glance, thinking about our lives on Octogoth and decide to risk it. Manuel and Camille are the most hesitant, but eventually agree, assuming we have any food with which to prepare our offering. Xallis reaches into his bag, pulling out a small sack of flour, a rotten cucumber, 3 fresh eggs and finally a long string of fish with a triumphant ah-ha. Debate ensues on how exact we need to be with the concept of cake. We eventually decide to give it a chance, each cutting ourselves to soak a fish in our blood. Cammi gets a real hungry look before hitting her little blood-bag hard. Xallis makes a comment about her drinking problem and Simon decides to play with that hand rather then explain that we're at a roulette table. The tunnel is straight, smooth, and remarkable short. And our passageway is blocked by the short stubby tail and arse-hole of a giant dog. Xallis taps it on the back of the leg before stepping out of drop range. This seems to get the dogs attention and it turns around in the tunnel to face us, four red eyes glowing with hate and jaws dripping with blood. Xallis holds up the string of fish with a "nice doggy." Garmr lunges at Xallis, snatches the string of fish in one bit and swallows it down. It then growls in a discontented voice about kindhearted travelers and tourists. I smile, shrug and we ask if we can be on our way. It doesn't seem to please the guardian of Hel's gates, but he lets us pass. And so we emerge from Helheim into Neieflheim proper. It's not an improvement. It won't be an improvement until we're out of the Gray Wastes. Manuel asks us to gather hands so he can try to get us out of there. We gather hands, he starts fiddling with his keyring, causing a great deal of nothing. I guess that it's because we're still in a divine realm, and are still under the command that we have to leave in the normal fashion. Manuel and I discuss for a few minutes what the best way to do that probably is, with him finally showing that he has at least some understanding of what it takes to walk the planes. We decide that the Styx, or its tributary in this region, the river Gjöll, is our best bet for "normal" passage out of here. We take a ferry to the top layer of some plane, outside of a divine realm and we just Plane Shift back to Sigil. I suggest Acheron to avoid any Blood War problems. We just have to deal with the Gereleth boatmen. After explaining this to Simon, he asks for a moment to check something, then sits down and comes the closest I've ever seen him come to performing a ritual. * Well, it is uncommon for them. I don't think that Psionics is good at the big and complicated things that you need rituals to do. They're better then most mages at the delicate mental things though. After a few minutes he gets up and says to follow him, he'll know what to do when we get there. It's a couple of mile trek from the cave mouth to the ferry station, during which we all get several lifetimes fill of evil gray scenery. Once we arrive at a section of the river with the boatmen lined up like taxis at an airport– ~Huh? –Simon veers straight for one and enters into negotiations. After using a few of the dragon's baubles to try and gauge the ferry-fiend's price (with a silent warning from Manuel and myself not to offer any silver objects), Simon pulls out the leather armor and puts it forward as his offer. The fiend says it's worthless to him, but he'll take us to a Mercane and if it's worth at least twenty-five thousand jink he'll consider it done. (It seems the horse is 5 thousand gold all on its own. Kara dismisses it and the price suddenly drops.) Simon bargains him into saying if it's worth more then that, we get change. We agree to his charge and load into the large high-walled barge. Kára goes as far away from the Gereleth as possible. Everyone stays as far away from the walls as possible. After a quiet and tense hour of passage we arrive at a small hut at the edge of the river with a dock. Everyone walks into the HUTIS (It's bigger on the inside), and several of my companions get their first view of a Mercane, the tall, spindly, blue and four-armed traders in all things magical throughout every part of the known. Given that he may be the least weird thing to happen to us today, it seems that most of them have been shocked enough into accepting the strangeness that is the life of a Portal-Jumper. We present the armor (and all the trimmings that go with it, matched set) to the merchant. He places it on a scale and says the market value of the set is 35,000 gold pieces. Simon asks if he should try and haggle, the words "market price" sounding a little definite to his ears. I let him know that his instincts are guiding him right. We make the change, the 'loth taking his in Gold Bars that he caresses with the closest thing I've every seen from a 'loth to compassion or desire. * Barring Akin. He's just :):):):)ing strange. We take our payment in the form of 3 diamonds the size of a thumbnail after I confer with Xallis over what our worst-case needs might be (always be ready to raise both the roof and the dead). Our trade concluded, we all get back on the boat and start the proper journey towards Acheron. Our boatman keeps giving us all the hairy eyeball for about fifteen minutes, then sighs and rapidly pushes us down a fork in the river. The boat shakes for a brief minute as we cross currents and planes. After we all look up from gaining our footing we've crossed over and in the sky above us hang the country-sized cubes of iron that comprise the this layer of the plane. Our dour boatman pulls up to the shore then tells us to get off his bloody boat before complaining that he needs to hire bodyguards. Xallis points out that they would probably be called brigands actually as the last of us step of the boat. The Gereleth agrees, pushes his boat off the shore, vanishing before he reaches the middle of the river. We all gather hands again so Manuel can fiddle with his keys some more. This time, whatever he was trying works: the distant sounds of constant battle are suddenly replaced by the loud sounds of partying. A quick glance around tells me that we're in the Civic Festhall and have arrived in the middle of a party. We're back in Sigil once more. I find the nearest tray of drinks and down the first one I can grab. And then the doors slam open as a hundred new people rush into the party shouting "Master" and looking to Simon. oh boy. [/QUOTE]
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Spellchaser Chronicles (Pathfinder - Planescape) (Updated 11/19/10)
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