001: When I leave, I don't know what I'm hoping to find...

[Sierra]

<El-Cideon> It is mid-afternoon by the time you find yourselves gathered in a wooded clearing outside of Amaranth. Dead leaves crunch underfoot and many more tumble from the branches above, brilliantly red and gold in death. Within the center of the clearing is a freshly turned patch of soil, broad enough for one to establish a nicely-sized house should they so chose. A descending ramp has been dug into the ground, seemingly deadending nowhere. Waiting for you in the clearing are two individuals: one a young woman, dressed in gleaming armor, skin perfectly clear and unblemished, facial features that suggest a scholarly attitude (although her demeanor does not) and circular spectacles that only enhance an expression of permanent wonder, brown hair cut short and pageboy style; the other woman is older, an elegant mage from the look of her, of middling years and graying hair, wearing a gently disapproving smile. The younger woman, Rosemund, greets you: "Oh, good, we're all here!"
<Franceska> "This is nature, isn't it?" Franceska asks in an oddly defeated tone of voice.
<El-Cideon> "Oh, not for long," Rosemund beams. "We are going to Limbo, and there is no nature at all there."
<Franceska> "I'm going home."
<Julia> Smiling at the beautiful dying leaves all around Julia glides into the clearing dressed in a black dress and shawl that almost but don't quite conceal a gleaming silvery cuirass around her chest and stomach. Behind her trails a small bat, flitting around and periodically resting on branches above as it circles her. "Hello, Rosemund," she smiles gently at the younger woman already here. "Have
<Julia> you already tested where the portal leads, then?"
<El-Cideon> "Oh, don't be like that!" Rosemund grabs Franceska by the arm before she can flee. "You can't spend your whole life buried in lawbooks. Where's your sense of adventure?"
<Franceska> "My what?"
<Stephanie> Stephanie tips her broad-brimmed hat, looking like a perfectly pretty young woman with dark-reddish hair, with a rapier by her side and an off-kilter grin. "Yeah, where's your sense of adventure, y'old stick in the mud?" she says, laughing. "And you- you're looking all smart, Rosey!" she says, clapping. "People at this Limbo place appreciate the good look, eh? Should have I brought the ol'
<Stephanie> courtly dress? Oh!" She fishes in her pocket for a moment, before withdrawing some sparkling, glassy earrings. "I got some merch I haven't sold, yet, see? This'll look real nice with the shiny plate! My compliments!"
<El-Cideon> The older woman, Rosemund's aunt, responds to Julia: "It's been analyzed. We know where it leads, generally speaking. Testing it is difficult. Being certain of anything is difficult with Limbo, but I believe it is a one-way door."
<Julia> "I hope we have a way back, then. It would be frightful to be cast adrift on the planes forevermore, wouldn't it?" Julia comments as she watches Rosemund try to convince Franceska to stay.
<El-Cideon> "Oh, thank you!" Rosemund releases Franceska to accept her surprise gift (though it's clear she's watching Franceska with a wary eye).
<El-Cideon> "Well, the available facts suggest our miscreant has some means of returning to this spot when desired," Auntie Leah says. "My advice is to find this person and ensure through whatever means that they employ this ability in your favor."
* Franceska adjusts her fur hat, as suitable for cold climates as the rest of her clothing. "Is there an actual plan to return?" she asks in resignation. "Or is it all down to luck again-- oh, silly me, of course it's all about luck."
<Julia> "Yes, it does seem rather far-fetched..." Julia agrees dubiously.
* Franceska gives Julia an appraising look.
<El-Cideon> "It is not entirely luck, or I wouldn't even condone letting my only niece follow her fancies this far," Leah says. "The wizard who used to live here looks to have contrived some means of shifting his house from one plane to another. It was clearly returned here last night, so it should only be a matter of determining how this was done once you locate it."
<Julia> "Hmm, perhaps that's a bit better," the raven-haired 'healer' nods briskly, "Perhaps the house will even be right there above us after we go through if the location remains constant?"
<El-Cideon> "It is all very simple," Rosemund summarizes for everyone's benefit. "We find the criminals and hit them until they cooperate, yes?"
<El-Cideon> "We may hope," Leah says to Julia. "Of course, nothing is constant with Limbo."
<Franceska> "Unless we get buried alive when we plane shift," Franceska responds. "In that case, there is no need for meaningless delays."
<Stephanie> "Hey, now. Hitting them's well and good, but if we snatch away the holy cutter with them being none the wiser, who's to complain?" replies Steph, holding her hands behind her head. "Hell, I don't mind if we have to travel a ways to do it!"
<El-Cideon> Leah frowns at Franceska's theory. "It's not impossible. Just remember that where you are going, the key to survival is control. Limbo responds to thoughts, so shape your surroundings in such a way that they will not murder you. With four of you, I would think at least someone should have the mental fortitude to accomplish this." She looks distinctly dubious that this will be accomplished by her niece.
<Stephanie> "So we gotta think harder, not smarter?"
* Franceska holds out her arm and waits, until her owl familiar swoops down to perch upon it. "There is that," she agrees. "And introducing a bit of order and structure to Limbo does appeal. Alright. Are we leaving now?"
<Julia> "Well then, I suppose that's it all settled, then. It could be interesting, and really I don't think we can let this man who took advantage of poor Rosemund off lightly. Shall we venture forth, then?" Julia asks, a small ugly looking bat mirroring the motion of Franceska's owl except hanging from under Julia's forearm instead.
<El-Cideon> "Yes, we are!" Rosemund concludes. "Enough chatter. They could be running further and further away while we stand here talking. It's time we were away." Rosemund gives her aunt a firm hug. Which, given some apparent natural strength and the fact that the younger woman is armored, looks a distinctly uncomfortable experience for Leah. "Walk down the ramp and into the wall," Leah says once she's caught her breath. "It might not look obvious, but the portal is in fact there. Please take care of my niece as though your lives depended upon it," she says with a smile. "Because they do."
<El-Cideon> Rosemund strides down the ramp and, without hesitation, walks headlong into the wall of dirt at the bottom. She vanishes from sight without fanfare.
<Julia> "We'll make sure she comes back in one piece, won't we ladies?" Julia assures without responding to the veiled threat. And with said niece taking the lead, she follows down to and through the portal herself afterwards.
<Stephanie> "Not to worry, grandma," replies Stephanie, tipping her hat again. "She'll be back in one piece, mayhap a bit less shiny for it." With that, she turns and strides down the ramp as well!
* Franceska nods curtly in understanding, for her part. If Rosemund dies, Leah will do her best to kill them all. It only makes sense. Thus, she follows the others into the uncomfortable-looking wall of dirt.
* El-Cideon changes topic to 'Current planar traits: -2 to INT/WIS/CHA checks for non-chaotic characters.'
<El-Cideon> Within the blink of an eye, you are elsewhere: all around you is a wild roil of elements, light coming from wild bursts of fire out amidst tumbling rocks and freestanding whirlwinds. Immediately ahead of you some hundred feet distant, a more regular shape looms: a respectable two-story manor house drifts in the void, sitting atop a sizable hunk of stable earth. The house seems to exist in its own stabilized atmosphere. Curious extrusions jut from the bottom of the house's rocky base, long, thin and wavering, almost like an insect's antennae. It's difficult to be certain, but the house seems to be floating very slowly away from you. Between you and the house is a column of empty space apparently left by the manor's passage, but as you arrive it's rapidly closing up as water starts to coalesce around you.
<El-Cideon> "Oh, how do we move here, does anyone remember?" Rosemund wonders, flailing experimentally.
<Franceska> Limbo seems to hate her as much as she hates it. Resigning herself to that, Franceska tries to force the water to flow orderly to frame the way between them to the house rather than just aimlessly filling into the emptiness.
<Julia> Squinting at all the bright lights, Julia shades her eyes and looks around before spotting the manor. "Ah, so it was nearby!" she exclaims. "I believe you just will yourself to move. Mind over matter?" she posits, attempting to glide toward the manor.
<Stephanie> "Hey! It's doing a runner! Come back here, you bloody hovel!" yells Stephanie, starting to try and sprint in midair.
<El-Cideon> OOC: WIS check to try and control the area, Franceska?
<Franceska> roll 1d20
* Hatbot --> "Franceska rolls 1d20 and gets 9."12 [1d20=9]
<El-Cideon> Franceska finds the fabric of Limbo unwilling to conform to the dictates of her orderly mind! Julia finds she is easily able to fall in the direction she chooses, however, splashing through a great column of water to tumble soaked onto the rim of stone surrounding the house.
<El-Cideon> Rosemund concentrates to test her own degree of control over Limbo before following Julia's lead--
<El-Cideon> roll 1d20-1
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 1d20-1 and gets 1."12 [1d20=2]
<Julia> "Ohh... I'm all wet..." Julia moans, looking down at her soaked dress and frowning. Her bat takes the chance to wing away from her and shake itself dry before circling warily around.
<Franceska> "Take a deep breath," Franceska instructs Darrin, before they both follow Rosemund in shared resignation.
<Stephanie> What Stephanie thinks they need is level ground to sprint on! And she's going to do her level best to make some!
<El-Cideon> "Oh, I am just going to run--" she starts to say before a glob of water envelops her head. Hurriedly she flies her way to Julia, sucking in great gasps of air on the other side.
<Stephanie> roll 1d20+1
* Hatbot --> "Stephanie rolls 1d20+1 and gets 21."12 [1d20=20]
<El-Cideon> Stephanie finds herself quite at home here, easily able to forge a comfortable, dry walkway to her destination. No dunking for her!
<Stephanie> She's quickly running along it towards the escaping domicile!
<Julia> Once everyone's all here, Julia takes a moment to examine the manor by peering in the nearest window. "Should we go in the front, do you think?"
<El-Cideon> The house has a small semblance of a yard out in front, the uninvited visitors discover. The front entrance thirty feet off is a double door carved from dark wood, and it is flanked by two impressive examples of sculpted topiary, a pair of rearing lions. Otherwise, the house has windows scattered across its length on both floors, though all within sight are curtained on the inside.
<Franceska> Squeezing the water out of her hat, Franceska peers at the sculpted lions dubiously. "I don't suppose there was a building plan in the city archives that you brought along with you?" she asks Rosemund.
<El-Cideon> "Uh, no, I'm afraid I didn't look into things to that level of detail," she says. "But that would have been a good idea! You see, this is why I asked you along, Franceska."
<Julia> "Thing, be a good boy and see if those lions are guardians or traps?" Julia asks her familiar, the bat flapping off towards them with a sullen air and presenting itself as a juicy target.
<El-Cideon> The chosen lion animates and takes a swipe at the meddlesome little creature as soon as it comes within reach!
<El-Cideon> roll 1d20+13
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 1d20+13 and gets 20."12 [1d20=7]
<Julia> OOC: AC 20, DR 5/good or cold iron
<Franceska> "Then I'm sorry I got caught up in your pace and forgot all about common sense," Franceska responds, watching the attack take place.
<El-Cideon> roll 1d6+7 it is neither of those things!
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 1d6+7 it is neither of those things! and gets 11."12 [1d6=4]
<Stephanie> "'swhy I hate wizards," mutters Stephanie, irritably. "Y'never know when the art noveau out the front is gonna get all orky on you."
<Julia> Thing promptly flies back towards Julia with an alarmed squeak!
<El-Cideon> "Dear me, the plants are alive!" Rosemund points out for everyone's benefit.
<El-Cideon> The lion does not pursue, seeming content to sit in an obviously alert position by the door.
<Julia> "Or at least animated," Julia appends. "But they seem locked into position?"
<El-Cideon> The alert lion does not look rooted to the ground, now that it has moved.
<El-Cideon> "Oh, let me help your poor little friend!" Rosemund insists, casting a healing spell on the familiar once he returns.
<Stephanie> "So all we gotta do, all we gotta do is think up some fire, eh? Like if we think really hard, it's the world that's killing it, not us, so it ain't gonna come here and make us stop, right?" She squints, really hard, imagining the plants going up in nice bonfire.
<El-Cideon> roll 1d8+7
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 1d8+7 and gets 11."12 [1d8=4]
<El-Cideon> OOC: WIS check, Stephanie
<Stephanie> roll 1d20+1
* Hatbot --> "Stephanie rolls 1d20+1 and gets 19."12 [1d20=18]
<El-Cideon> The lion bursts into flame! Insofar as a piece of animate plantlife can appear perplexed, it does shift about in a very confused manner as it burns merrily.
<Julia> The bat chirps happily and flaps around Rosemund! "You didn't need to, he recovers quite quickly on his own," Julia tells her nonetheless.
<El-Cideon> roll 1d6*1.5
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 1d6*1.5 and gets 9."12 [1d6=6]
<Stephanie> She folds her arms in satisfaction. "So this is the world where pretty much everyone is like a spellslinger, eh?"
<El-Cideon> "Well, I am only happy to help if you should ever need it," Rosemund says while the lion sits on its haunches and converts slowly to charred chips. "Oh, but I don't suppose I need to, when you are such an expert yourself?"
<El-Cideon> roll 1d6*1.5
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 1d6*1.5 and gets 1.5."12 [1d6=1]
<Julia> "I can't perform healing magic like you can, Rosemund," Julia shakes her head, "But please, save your spells for those more deserving than Thing or myself."
<Stephanie> Stephanie glances at the other lion, quite willing to see it go up in smoke as well!
<Stephanie> roll 1d20+1
* Hatbot --> "Stephanie rolls 1d20+1 and gets 9."12 [1d20=8]
<El-Cideon> But all Stephanie can produce this time is a puff of smoke!
<El-Cideon> "Oh, don't say a thing like that," Rosemund insists. "Why, you have proven your valor greater than most simply by joining me here, you know?"
<El-Cideon> roll 1d6*1.5
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 1d6*1.5 and gets 6."12 [1d6=4]
* Franceska tilts her head, before trying to encase the remaining lion in ice.
<Stephanie> Stephanie stares at it angrily! And just when she thought she had a knack for it too!
<Franceska> roll 1d20
* Hatbot --> "Franceska rolls 1d20 and gets 12."12 [1d20=12]
<El-Cideon> But Limbo stubbornly refuses to follow Franceska's orders!
<Julia> "Perhaps so, but I truly insist that you spare your healing spells with me," Julia won't budge, given how badly her body reacts to them... it's been years of course, but she can still remember the last time she was exposed to positive energy in a misguided attempt at helping her.
<El-Cideon> "You know, I wonder if it is possible to will my clothes dry," Rosemund wonders, still dripping on the front walk.
<El-Cideon> roll 1d20-1
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 1d20-1 and gets 19."12 [1d20=20]
<Julia> "An excellent suggestion!" Julia perks up and attempts the same!
<Stephanie> It will get set on fire, Stephanie thinks with great irritation! It must burn!
<Julia> roll 1d20 wis
* Hatbot --> "Julia rolls 1d20 wis and gets 18."12 [1d20=18]
<Stephanie> roll 1d20+1
* Hatbot --> "Stephanie rolls 1d20+1 and gets 8."12 [1d20=7]
* Franceska nods to herself fatalistically. It is useless for her after all. "Could you do the same for me as well, you think?" she asks Rosemund.
<El-Cideon> It will not burn! Yet! But the two sodden heroines find themselves dry and presentable again at least.
<El-Cideon> roll 1d6*1.5
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 1d6*1.5 and gets 3."12 [1d6=2]
<El-Cideon> "Of course!" Rosemund says with a nod.
<El-Cideon> roll 1d20-1
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 1d20-1 and gets 2."12 [1d20=3]
<El-Cideon> "...Or maybe not. Say, do you think that maybe no one is home? There is a tree on fire in their front yard!"
<El-Cideon> roll 1d6*1.5
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 1d6*1.5 and gets 1.5."12 [1d6=1]
<Julia> "Let me try?" Julia offers to try and dry Franceska...
<Julia> roll 1d20 ws
* Hatbot --> "Julia rolls 1d20 ws and gets 9."12 [1d20=9]
<Stephanie> "Yeah, so? They've all got the curtains up," replies Stephanie, still contesting her fiery brain against the all-too-not-on-fire air surrounding the lion.
<Stephanie> roll 1d20+1
* Hatbot --> "Stephanie rolls 1d20+1 and gets 16."12 [1d20=15]
<El-Cideon> Limbo seems intent to keep Franceska as uncomfortable as it can possibly arrange for her to be! But Stephanie is successful in igniting the other lion.
<El-Cideon> roll 1d6*1.5
<El-Cideon> roll 1d6*1.5
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 1d6*1.5 and gets 3."12 [1d6=2]
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 1d6*1.5 and gets 1.5."12 [1d6=1]
<Julia> "Sorry, I think this works best when you do it yourself?" Julia suggests.
<El-Cideon> "You just need to concentrate very hard," Rosemund instructs. "You are good at that!"
<Franceska> "Of course it does." Franceska sighs, and shakes her head. "I think I will just wait for them to burn properly and use the bonfire."
<Stephanie> "A little water's not gonna kill you," snorts Stephanie. "Just bear with it! You'll probably just get splashed again later anyway!"
<El-Cideon> Each lion is quite a significant mass of timber, and it takes a couple minutes for them to burn down to cinders, but soon enough they are naught but a pile of embers on the ground. "Well, whoever lives here, they could very well stand to choose more intelligent guards," Rosemund concludes.
* Franceska nods from where she is standing near the embers warming herself up the mundane way.
<Julia> "Intelligent guards would want more job satisfaction. And money. And breaks. And to be fed and watered. These ones just need to be watered!" Julia supposes brightly, walking up past the embers to try opening the door.
<Stephanie> "Well, you'd need to clip them too, right? Make sure they don't get all overgrown?" hazards Stephanie.
<El-Cideon> The door is quite sensibly locked!
<El-Cideon> "Might that be dangerous?" Rosemund wonders. "Would they get upset and attack you if you cut off a branch just to make them look better?"
<Franceska> "It does sound like a job with a very high risk of injury, loss of limb and death," Franceska agrees. "The pay must be quite good."
<Julia> Not having lockpicks nor the strength to force the door, Julia stands back and says, "It's locked." Then she sensibly casts a protective spell in case there's danger inside.
<Julia> OOC: false life
<Julia> roll 1d10+8
* Hatbot --> "Julia rolls 1d10+8 and gets 14."12 [1d10=6]
<Stephanie> "But less than for a guard," replies Stephanie, walking up to the door. "Hey, Rosey, we want to break in, right?"
<El-Cideon> "Well, it is only fitting, is it not?" she says, casting a shield spell for her own protection.
<Stephanie> "I'm down for it," she replies, cheerfully checking out the door for any unwanted traps before pulling out her set of lockpicks.
<Stephanie> roll 1d20+10
* Hatbot --> "Stephanie rolls 1d20+10 and gets 12."12 [1d20=2]
<El-Cideon> Stephanie doesn't seem anything amiss.
<Stephanie> roll 1d20+16 knock
* Hatbot --> "Stephanie rolls 1d20+16 knock and gets 33."12 [1d20=17]
<El-Cideon> Stephanie's skills are more than a match for this trifling collection of wood and metal! Within seconds she hears a satisfying *click* from within.
<Stephanie> "I mean, we could've just broke a window, but doing things all neat is the mark of a pro, right?" she adds, cheerfully shoving the door open.
<Franceska> "How do you know this person, again?" Franceska asks Rosemund, sidling up to her.
<El-Cideon> "Oh, she is very generous donor to the church," Rosemund beams.
<Julia> "And broken glass is dangerous," Julia agrees.
<Franceska> "Ah, I see. And what does she donate?"
<Stephanie> "What d'ya think, y'dunce? Gold!"
<Franceska> "Ah, I see. Whose gold?"
<Stephanie> "Huh?"
<El-Cideon> Within is an opulent foyer, all darkly wood-paneled walls and somber, checked stone tiles for the floor. Fogged glass lanterns are spaced intermittently to give the interior the air of a pleasant, smoky lounge. The area is sixty feet by thirty, open doors to the left and right show a library and some manner of sitting room, and a closed double door is directly across from you. In the far corners from you, stairs sweep up to a second floor balcony, beside each staircase a marble column reaches up to a vaulted ceiling. (more)
<El-Cideon> There are two people standing in this room when you enter. One is a maid: long, glossy dark hair, olive complexion and alluringly exotic features. She is clutching a feather duster with some agitation and speaking closely to another woman. This one is tall, slender, with gaunt features and black hair cut short and mannish. She is dressed in a butler's outfit, complete with white gloves. "I am certain I heard something--" the maid is saying before both women turn to look at the open door.
<Stephanie> "Oh, excellent. You guys got any wine?"
<Julia> "Mmm, what a tastefully decorated foyer," Julia says in approval, picturing herself living in such a manor house one day... "Oh, lets ask the help if they know who bewitched you, Rosemund?"
<El-Cideon> "Only for guests," the tall woman says, with the clear implication that she doesn't see any present.
<Franceska> "Just ignore her," Franceska says, before asking the maid, "Whose manor is this?"
<El-Cideon> "Th-this is Lady Nisbet's house," the woman says, visibly trembling.
<Franceska> They seem to be getting somewhere! "And is she present?"
<Franceska> roll 1d20+7
* Hatbot --> "Franceska rolls 1d20+7 and gets 15."12 [1d20=8]
<El-Cideon> The butler sighs and rubs her forehead. "Hey your Ladyship?" she calls out in a higher, clear voice. "We got more uninvited guests." She watches you carefully while waiting for a response, looking more irritated than concerned.
<Julia> Demurely stepping inside now, Julia rubs her feet on the mat (assuming there is one). "Do you think it might have been a mannish woman instead of a man, Rosemund?"
<Stephanie> Stephanie chokes back a snort.
<El-Cideon> "Close the door at least, will you?" the butler barks back. "Nobody got any damn manners these days?"
<Franceska> "And who might those other guests you brought up be?" Franceska asks, quite content to show some manners and close the door after them.
<El-Cideon> "Didn't meet 'em, for my part," she says. "They had even worse manners than you." The maid pipes up, feeling it necessary to correct this: "Oh, you know that is not quite true. Lady Nisbet says you were just too deep in your cups to answer the door!"
<Franceska> "Ah, I see." Deciding to breach the topic, Franceska says, "Something was stolen from my friend, before the thieves fled through a portal. The other end of the portal was just outside this house. If these other guests are the ones responsible, then it would be helpful to speak to your Lady Nisbet about this matter."
<El-Cideon> Momentarily a third woman appears, peering over the upstairs balcony. She is dressed in a fine silk gown, ivory and gold, fit for nobility but casual enough to look the proper center of attention at any fashionable city salon. She has chestnut brown hair shaped into a carefully-coifed bob, and a pleasant but winsome and enigmatic expression. She is altogether perfectly demure and an ideal subject for portraiture. She seems content to loiter upstairs and speak to you from the balcony for the moment, though. "Oh, do have the decency to introduce yourselves before casting accusations?"
<Julia> "Julia Astin, charmed I'm sure," Julia provides with a little curtsey.
<Stephanie> "Stephanie! Stephanie Sundown. Friends call me Steph," replies Stephanie, doffing her hat all polite-like.
<Franceska> "Franceska Durant," Franceska says in a businesslike manner, offering the woman on the balcony a slight nod.
<El-Cideon> "Rosemund Whitefall," Rosemund says for her part, adding, "Oh, but I am sure someone here knows that much already!"
<El-Cideon> "Nisbet Hara," the lady of the house says. "You wouldn't be here if you didn't know you needed to be," she quickly concludes. "Is this visitation to be of a retributive nature, or may we talk like civilized people?"
<Franceska> "We are not vigilantes, so talking is preferable."
<Julia> "We simply desire a return of what was stolen," Julia agrees.
<Stephanie> "We're on an official mission from the church to do so!" pronounces Stephanie. "And since someone went and gone used your portal-thing to do the thieving..."
<El-Cideon> "I cannot return what is not in my possession," she says carefully. She descends the stairs to join her employees. The maid quickly takes shelter behind her Ladyship, peering from behind her shoulder as if expecting trouble at any second.
<Julia> "But perhaps you can still play a part nonetheless?" Julia suggests as Thing flaps around and then hangs from the ceiling above.
<El-Cideon> The maid eeps quietly and watches Thing with alarm. Lady Nisbet continues: "And how extensive a part did you have in mind?" she asks cautiously. "I would like to think I have a certain degree of professional pride..."
<Julia> "Lets not beat around the bush. The thief used your portal to depart, and your maids talked of recent guests. It's not hard to link the two, so surely you could tell us a bit about the miscreant and point us in his direction so we'd need trouble you no further?"
<El-Cideon> After a long moment's consideration, she relents and sighs. "I can tell you what I *know*. Which is perhaps not as much as you would like, but it will have to suffice. But--" she adds, with obvious concern for her own well-being, "--I will need assurance that you will leave us without violence and make no attempt to bring Solata law to bear against me. And, on the odd chance you do find your quarry, you will make *no* mention of my assistance."
<Franceska> "There would be no need to bring Amaranth's laws to Limbo. So as long as you stay away...." Franceska trails off, shrugging lightly. "Would that do?"
<Stephanie> Stephanie unhooks her sword from her belt, and proffers it to the nearby maid. "Can hold on ta Stickerbeak while we're here, if y'like."
* Julia looks at the others and says, "It sounds fair to me."
<El-Cideon> "It will be good enough," she decides. To the butler: "Be a good girl and fetch us some tea, will you?" The taller woman does not look pleased by this request: "Isn't that Cavilla's job?" she says, pointing to the maid. Nisbet replies, "I believe it will require a surgeon to detach her from my company. Be off with you."
<El-Cideon> Once she's gone, Nisbet continues: "I dislike working for others, and I was wary of this job from the start. It does not greatly surprise me it has brought misfortune to the house. I would have liked to refuse, but my employer had a way of carrying herself that suggested refusal would be unhealthy."
<Stephanie> "See, that's why it's better to be independant, y'know? No obligations but the ones you wanna take on, that's the way," replies Stephanie, nodding in understanding.
<Franceska> "I suppose I must ask how it is that someone powerful enough to worry someone who can arrange for portals into other planes needs to hire someone to handle that task," Franceska muses.
<Stephanie> "Oh, 'seasy, powerful types like to boss folks around, right? You know, 'cos they can."
<Julia> "It does sound a bit worrying for who we're likely going to be confronting, though," Julia says.
<El-Cideon> "Yes," she says to Stephanie with a smile, "we are of like mind on that matter." To Franceska: "She didn't need the portal. She needed a thief." At this, Nisbet curtsies respectfully. "For which I think it not immodest to say I am exceptionally well-suited. Although," she adds ruefully, "perhaps not so skilled as I would have liked if I have developed a genuine reputation for it. In any case, our friend Steph is quite right: a person of distinction doesn't steal, she pays someone else to do it for her. Especially when that person has all of an old paladin's pride."
<Franceska> Of course a paladin would be the true culprit, Franceska thinks sourly. And if she tries to stop them, they'll probably try to smite her for good measure.
<Stephanie> "So what, some old buzzard of a crusader decided it's all for the greater good? Faugh, should've just asked!"
<Stephanie> roll 1d20+11 sm
* Hatbot --> "Stephanie rolls 1d20+11 sm and gets 16."12 [1d20=5]
<El-Cideon> "She didn't deign to tell me why she wanted it," Nisbet. "But I can tell you plain enough, why most people covet things that aren't theirs: they think they deserve it more than anyone else."
<Franceska> "And her name? Appearance? Place of residence?"
<Stephanie> "Oh, yeah, I can see it. She's probably all 'hey, this sticker ain't doing anything in the vaults, should break it out and go split some fiendish blood, eh?' Yeah, I get this one," replies Steph, nodding.
<Julia> "Still, they should have asked if they had a good reason," Julia frowns disapprovingly.
<Stephanie> "Nah, some folk got a righteous staff up the bum and wanna do their own thing," replies Stephanie. "'specially the Cuthbert Cudgels."
<Julia> "In any case, we can't forgive them for bewitching poor Rosemund and soiling her good name," Julia declares with a brisk nod!
<Franceska> "Ah, no, I think that was our hostess."
<Julia> "By proxy, then?"
<Franceska> "Alright, I can work with that."
<El-Cideon> "She called herself 'Polaris,'" Nisbet says. "But I am old enough to have been in the capital when she marched out at the head of an army to smite the fiends. One cheering young woman in the crowd, she would not have noticed me then--but it was an impressive sight, and I remember her for her real name: Galina Merowyn. She wears the years poorly, scarred and gray now, but self-righteous as ever." To the continuing conversation, she nods: "Ah yes, I am afraid that was me. I don't believe I caused the young woman any undue harm?"
<Franceska> "Only to her pride and good name, but it's not that important."
<El-Cideon> "Oh, it was very embarrassing," Rosemund chimes in. "I had to run all over town asking people what I had done the previous evening!"
<El-Cideon> "Had mornings like that," the butler adds, returning with a collection of steaming teacups on a silver platter.
<Franceska> "And she seems like she's gotten over it by now, besides," Franceska continues. "Do you know what this... paladin... wants the sword for? Or where we could find her?"
<Julia> roll 1d20+13 religion knowledge of Galina if she's a paladin?
* Hatbot --> "Julia rolls 1d20+13 religion knowledge of Galina if she's a paladin? and gets 16."12 [1d20=3]
<Stephanie> "Hey, are we guests, now?" asks Stephanie, glancing at the butler with a wide grin.
<Franceska> roll 1d20+12 local
* Hatbot --> "Franceska rolls 1d20+12 local and gets 15."12 [1d20=3]
<Julia> "Thank you," Julia takes the tea distractedly as she tries to place the name...
<Stephanie> roll 1d20+14 local would be good
* Hatbot --> "Stephanie rolls 1d20+14 local would be good and gets 22."12 [1d20=8]
* Franceska casts the simple spell for detecting poison and checks her own cup, followed by Rosemund's.
<El-Cideon> She was indeed a paladin of Pelor--everyone in the group can easily summon up the name. Once the crown went to an outright war footing, Galina was in the vanguard of almost every major offensive. Any place there were fiends to be smote, she could reliably be found there. She was even present when liberating forces breached Amaranth's walls. She disappeared after the war was formally declared won by the crown. Stephanie can recall some vague stories about a dispute with the authorities, and her marching off to other worlds with a small band of fellow heroes.
<El-Cideon> "Yeah, I guess you are," the butler grudgingly admits, passing the tray around. The tea is not expertly prepared, but is a hot and zesty pick-me-up. Franceska does not detect any poison.
<Stephanie> "Oh, yeah, I get it! She got in a squabble with the crown's flatfoots and went to skedaddle! Guess she didn't wanna go showing her face. Even around the church," mutters Stephanie, before continuing to beam at the butler. "Then, may I please have some bubbly?"
<El-Cideon> "No," she says flatly. "That's mine."
<Stephanie> "C'mon, only a real sap drinks alone!" protests Stephanie.
* Julia sips lightly at her tea before speaking up, "So, we know the culprit and can guess their reason. But where would we find her?"
<El-Cideon> "She found me," Nisbet says. "I have made some minor inquiries of my own, and I believe I can say with assurance that she does *not* wish to be found. But..." She thinks for moment as she sips at her tea, casting a disappointed glance at her butler, who only shrugs in response. "I may be able to direct you to someone better placed to know of her whereabouts and intentions. If you'll follow me?" She turns to head upstairs.
<Julia> Julia is happy to follow, teacup and saucer in hand! Thing detaches from the ceiling and flaps after her.
<Stephanie> "Oh, so it's gonna be this kinda trip," mutters Stephanie, begrudgingly taking a cup of tea and downing it in one shot.
* Franceska is quite content to follow with her own teacup in tow. There is no rush to drink it all quickly.
<El-Cideon> "What kind of trip?" Nisbet wonders.
<Stephanie> "The kind of trip where we go to one guy and they go 'oh, I know a guy' and we repeat that a dozen times. There'll be variations, right, where sometimes we find the guy we're looking for is dead, so we gotta hunt down *his* killer to get on track. And eventually we'll find out it was the owl all along or something."
* Franceska sits at her tea, before shaking her head. "That's slander, I will have you know."
<Stephanie> "Yeah, well, the hat's not doing him any favours, sweety."
<El-Cideon> At the second floor landing she opens a door immediately before the right staircase (other hallways branch away from the landing in either direction). It opens onto a lavish bedroom, canopy bed big enough for two, dark wood nightstand, desk and wardrobe of the finest make. Nisbet ignores all this and walks to a set of bookshelves, rummaging around with her back hiding her actions until a little *click* sees one section of shelving swing away.
<Julia> "He does look very dapper," Julia says with a look at the owl.
<Stephanie> "All proper crooks do!"
<Franceska> "Why, thank you! His name is Darrin," Franceska tells Julia, ignoring Stephanie entirely.
<El-Cideon> Nisbet busies herself with a combination lock set into the wall, again hiding the specifics of her actions, and opens a barely perceptible door in the wall. "I should warn you, they may prove mildly disturbing. I know I find them so. I...inherited this house, in a manner of speaking, and with it came some of its prior inhabitants."
<Julia> "Oh, you have ghosts?" Julia asks with sudden excitement.
<Stephanie> "You got a fiend tucked in there or something?"
<El-Cideon> "Oh, perhaps not in the literal sense," she says to Julia.
<Franceska> "Literal skeletons in the walls?"
<El-Cideon> On the other side of the door is a dusty workroom, perhaps an old laboratory. Various glasswork of arcane design litters dusty tables, most of it broken and useless. Empty, rusty cages and illegible scraps of paper line sagging shelves. (more)
<El-Cideon> Directly across from you is a door leading to a staircase that descends into darkness. It is guarded by a mechanical man standing eight feet high and a great shaggy beast with the heads of a dragon, goat and a lion. The beast rouses itself to growl but sits on its haunches at a barked command from Nisbet. "Sit, Charlton! These are guests."
<Franceska> "Oh. Yes, of course, a wizard lived here...."
<Julia> "Oh, that is a handsome beast," Julia approves, looking up at her ugly bat, "Thing, why can't you be more impressive like that?" she chastises it, to an indignant squeak in reply.
<Stephanie> "Bloody oath, how horrifying," mutters Stephanie.
<El-Cideon> "'Lived,' yes," Nisbet says. "Go on, Charlton, shuffle off into the corner, stop bothering people." The chimera slinks off to a far corner of the room, next to a curious raised stone dais (seemingly the only object in the room not covered in dust). Nisbet lights a torch and starts down the stairs. There is a sound of...wind? Or deep breathing? Something, down there.
<Julia> Sweeping in after her, Julia follows Nisbet down the stairs.
<El-Cideon> "Oh, what is that noise?" Rosemund wonders. "Do you sleep in that bedroom with monsters next door?"
<Stephanie> "So what, you bumped him off and took this joint as a getaway horse?" asks Stephanie, all chatty.
<El-Cideon> "Yes," she admits conversationally. "Had you known him, you would thank me." The stairs wind down, far enough to descend past the ground floor and into the house's rocky base. You can feel a pulsing in the stone beneath your feet, like a heartbeat.
* Franceska pauses to sip at her tea again. "It is perfectly reasonable," she tells Rosemund, "if you expect people to try and kill you, wouldn't you agree?"
<El-Cideon> "Well, I suppose, but...he looked very hungry."
<Stephanie> "Must've been rough. Wizard who's got a place like this, how'd you do him in?"
<El-Cideon> "In his sleep." The stairs end in a cavern some thirty feet wide. It is unadorned save for a torchholder on the wall at the landing, in which Nisbet sets her torch, and in the center of the room...it looks like a column of flesh rising from floor to ceiling, albeit the deep blue of arteries and ringed with prominent crimson veins. On either side of the column, seemingly fused to its surface, are two humanoid figures--elves, unclothed, brother and sister from all appearances. They take no notice of your appearance and seem to stare blindly at something outside the walls.
<El-Cideon> "I gather they were here before he built the house," Nisbet says. "I think it's why he built the house. Although he was never able to make them cooperate the way he'd hoped to."
<Franceska> "This is the most disturbing sight I have ever laid my eyes upon," Franceska says slowly, turning towards Rosemund. "Thank you so much for ensuring that I would."
<Julia> "I see what you meant about it being disturbing," Julia says, though she seems rather unruffled. "That can't be comfortable at all."
<El-Cideon> Rosemund is too shocked by the sight to acknowledge Franceska's gratitude.
<El-Cideon> "They don't seem to mind," Nisbet says, snapping her fingers in front of the sister's eyes in demonstration. There is no response.
<Stephanie> Stephanie's own voice catches a moment, before she emits a little shriek. "They- you ever try cutting 'em down?" she sputters.
<El-Cideon> She looks at Stephanie, surprised. "My belief is that whatever they are now, they chose it. They see things they should not, and should we remove them from their apparatus, or each other, I do not know what would happen."
<Stephanie> "What's yer grounds for that? Bloody hell, who'd choose this?"
<Julia> "It does seem more likely it was inflicted upon them," Julia says, going to take a close look at where they merge with the pillar, prodding a little with her fingers to get an idea of the connections and how difficult it would be to surgically remove them without killing them.
<El-Cideon> "Someone with greater concern for the mind than the body," Nisbet explains. "Their eyes roam far, which can be of use when trying to find a person, if you can catch their interest. That's the trick."
<Franceska> "So you can talk to them? And ask them?"
<Stephanie> "Yeah, don't go dodging all my cant, here. Looks me like they were stuck up. Not beyond the pale, eh, if the owner of this place was a rat bastard?"
<El-Cideon> Julia sees each of the two has a marking on their forward--tattoo, scar, birthmark, hard to say. The sister's is a crescent moon, the brother's a dark field strewn with stars. They are set within the material to the depth of at least an inch and it's hard to discern where their flesh ends and it begins.
<El-Cideon> "All I can tell you is that he told me he found them here," Nisbet says with a shrug. "In Limbo. Many strange things happen here. Sometimes people find it a good place to disappear."
<Julia> "Hmm, I think their blood vessels and such are meshed in with the pillar. Removing them without killing them would probably be impossible without magic," Julia says, stepping back and eyeing the symbols.
<Julia> roll 1d20+13 in case of religious significance?
* Hatbot --> "Julia rolls 1d20+13 in case of religious significance? and gets 14."12 [1d20=1]
<El-Cideon> To Franceska: "In a manner of speaking. I don't believe they're aware of us in any real sense. But if you offer them an idea, something to pique their curiosity, they will announce their findings, if perhaps only for their own satisfaction."
<Stephanie> "Hey, elf girl! You want us to get you walking all mobile again?" asks Stephanie, waving her hand in front of the girl's eyes. "Or you just want me to stick a sticker in ya and send you on?"
<El-Cideon> The sister elf does not in any way acknowledge Stephanie's presence.
<Julia> "Rosemund, perhaps if you tell them about the Dawnstar they can say where it is now, and thus our thief?" Julia suggests, stepping away from the pillar now.
* Franceska finds that suggestion agreeable, not particularly motivated to do anything about the creepy elves.
<Stephanie> "How 'bout finding a paladin nutty enough to go stealin' for the cause, eh? Betcha don't see that sorta high-level self-righteous questin' anywhere, eh?"
<El-Cideon> "You may try, but I have never known them to show interest in objects," Nisbet says. "Individuals, personalities--names mean little, *who your subject is* seems of greater interest." She stands aside to let Rosemund try anyway.
<Julia> "Then Stephanie's suggestion holds merit."
<El-Cideon> "O-okay," Rosemund says with some awkwardness. She doesn't seem accustomed to being in the presence of another naked person, much less two, to say nothing of two elves fused to a column of meat. "Well, where is the Dawnstar?" she asks them.
<El-Cideon> A moment's waiting without any response and she tries again. "Well, where's Galina Merowyn?" No response. Nisbet encourages her: "Try being somewhat more...poetic. I call them prophets, for they have all the same inscrutability and flair when they do work."
<Stephanie> "Thinking they ain't gonna hear us unless we get right down to the nitty-gritty of our sneaky demon-slayer's head," replies Stephanie. "Elves. Bloody elves love poetry- yeah!"
<El-Cideon> "Well, where is, uh, where is the sunlit blade, the rebellious hero, forsaken by the crown, the lone sword, um, the guiding star--" Something in there seems to reach them--each of the elves convulses and stares about for a moment with great concentration, before pronouncing simultaneously with an echo of tremendous frustration: "THIS ONE IS OCCLUDED."
<Stephanie> "Hey, I know that word. It means 'fuck you', right?"
<Franceska> "Elves are useless, even the creepy ones."
<Julia> "Yes, it seems we're not to have any help from this quarter... I don't think they feel very clever about giving up physical existence and not even being able to see everything now," Julia bemoans.
<Stephanie> "Fuckers don't buy anything," mutters Stephanie. "Went all the way there to sell some goodies and they all sniffed and were like 'and how did you sneak in, anyway?'"
<El-Cideon> "You see, I tried that, out of my own curiosity," Nisbet says. "My old patron decided this meant the influence of powerful wards against scrying, or a locale so foreign as to be even beyond their sight. My best thought is that her old comrades in arms may have some lead on her whereabouts. She left Solata with half a dozen other heroes who likewise never returned. It could be some of their number are still in contact?"
<Stephanie> Stephanie claps her head. "Yeah, I knew it!" she mutters, trying to think of who they were.
<Franceska> Frowning, Franceska peers at her sole friend. "Rosemund, just how expensive is that sword?"
<Stephanie> roll 1d20+14 local knowledge?
* Hatbot --> "Stephanie rolls 1d20+14 local knowledge? and gets 32."12 [1d20=18]
<El-Cideon> There were, indeed, six companions with her when she left the material realm: Brijid and William Alcembron, Phibous Liramar, Jill Cook, Raymun Cotter, and Marcus Massif. The group in general has been referred to in various annals by all manner of sun-related metaphors.
<El-Cideon> "Oh, it isn't about money!" Rosemund explains.
<Franceska> "Then what? If it is wasting away at a temple, we can make a replica for the masses."
<El-Cideon> "It's an instrument of justice and virtue, we should have it here in case there are demons again, should we not?"
* Franceska sighs. "Alright, fine. How about just finding another instrument of justice and virtue for that unlikely eventuality, then?"
<Stephanie> "Ah, I see! The great prosecutor enforces the law of possession!"
<Franceska> "This sounds too troublesome and requires a lot of traveling, outside any reasonable jurisdiction, I might add. And meeting all manner of no doubt unpleasant people."
<Julia> "Let me try?" Julia offers, before waxing poetic, "Entwined twins of prophecy, a paladin I wish for you to find for me! The occluded one, she who steals from the sun! Renegade heroes in alliance, find them for me and pierce their defiance!"
<Stephanie> "Well, off you go, then," replies Stephanie. "I'll keep Rosey alive, see? No need for you to worry about the Wrath of the Auntie."
<El-Cideon> "Oh, Franceska! Sometimes when someone thinks she's beyond the jurisdiction of law, there's no choice but to just bring justice to them! See--"
<El-Cideon> She cuts off midsentence as the twins are suddenly reinvigorated with a look of great satisfaction. A moment's wild searching, and:
<El-Cideon> The brother speaks: "Cast by chance to the land of elven eternity, the lord of midnight feathers claims me as his own. In his glorious prison, I live as art."
<El-Cideon> The brother speaks again, and his sister accompanies in a feral snarl: "We who were two become one. I run through the forest of eternal night and forsake the words of mankind. I lose myself. I forget. I howl."
<El-Cideon> Both voices: "We gnaw at the heart of stone itself, unearthing a prize to feed our masters' appetites." The sister: "When I grow frail, I am sold to a glittering beast. He eats my dreams." Her brother: "When I grow weary, I am sold to the dark sisters. I...I--THIS ONE'S FATE IS OCCLUDED."
<El-Cideon> The brother intones: "In the deepest pit beneath the howling caverns, I forget the touch of sunlight. I scream for escape and am answered. The outside enters me and becomes me. I bleed cancer."
<El-Cideon> And finally, the sister again: "Those I wish to save reward sacrifice with betrayal and the city of chains wraps me in its iron embrace. I wither. I break. I submit. The machine of war turns by my hand."
<El-Cideon> "Well I think that worked," Rosemund says quietly.
* Franceska sighs.
<Stephanie> "So about that replica?"
<Julia> "Ohh, lots to go on here!" Julia smiles, "There must be a few fellow heroes out there... most of them in rather dire straits, actually."
<El-Cideon> "I, uh, I might need to ask for your help a little longer than planned," Rosemund says sheepishly.
<El-Cideon> "Yes!" she brightens up. "Oh, most of them sound imprisoned in the most awful circumstances. People...people are more important than things, are they not? We should help them!"
<Stephanie> "I mean, I know a guy. Makes the shiniest not-magic swords you ever saw made. He owes me a favour, even-" Stephanie clasps her hand on her head. "Well, yeah, we should," she mutters, begrudgingly.
<Franceska> "At least I brought my warm clothing," Franceska mutters. Those so-called heroes probably brought it on themselves, but Rosemund would not be convinced by what she says, to her eternal regret. Not when possible heroics are involved.
<Julia> "We're likely to find all sorts of interesting situations..." Julia hums, considering the chances it might open to practice certain things frowned on back home.
<El-Cideon> "Oh, but think of it this way, Stephanie," Rosemund says, clasping her friend's hand. "When we are done, I will owe you the biggest favor ever. And all these heroes will owe you favors too!"
<Franceska> "I regret bringing this up. But how can we actually go to any other plane from here?"
<Stephanie> Stephanie shivers in Rosemund's hands. "I'll get it done. Biggest breakout ever, you know? Get my names in the big book of brilliant bastards, I will."
<Julia> "Maybe there are other portals like the one that led here?"
<El-Cideon> "I didn't design the device that shuffles my house from one realm to another, you understand?" Nisbet says. "I turn a dial and it moves from Limbo to Solata, and vice versa. I do not know if I even could recalibrate it. I will return you home and we can be pleased to go our separate ways?" she suggests.
<El-Cideon> "Oh, yes!" Rosemund says. "Why, there was a portal to Limbo down in the ground all those years, there may be others in Solata? We can ask Auntie Leah!"
<Julia> "That would be safer than hunting around on Limbo for one," Julia agrees.
<Franceska> "Oh good, I can bring a change of clothing with me!"
<El-Cideon> Nisbet reclaims her torch, and gestures upstairs.
* Julia heads right back up again!
<Stephanie> "If all else fails, we could go find out how they left Solata in the first place, y'know? Might be good to retrace their steps a bit," muses Stephanie, ascending after Julia.
<El-Cideon> In the old laboratory, Nisbet walks to the stone dais in the corner. There is indeed a dial atop it, with a lever that, from a distance at least, looks to have three settings. The chimera gives her a curious whuffle and she pats it on its least ferocious head (the goat) before turning the lever. You all feel a powerful pull in the pit of your stomach and, after a moment of unpleasant freefall, once again hear the songbirds of Amaranth's autumn outside.
<Julia> "Home again? It's been lovely, madam Nisbet," Julia smiles at their hostess, ready to head back out and make plans for further expeditions!
<Stephanie> "Hey, lady. Where's the other switch go?" asks Stephanie, peering at it.
<El-Cideon> "Not a place that any decent person should wish to go," Nisbet assures Stephanie without further explanation.
<Stephanie> "Hey, be a bit specific, eh?"
<El-Cideon> She doesn't look at all eager to elaborate. After a moment's stony silence: "The old master of this house liked to cavort with demons. We'll speak no more of this."
<Stephanie> "How 'bout that," muses Stephanie. "Well, I ain't that bad," she adds, cheerfully. "Oh, yeah, sorry about the shrubbery. It scratched a bit, you know?" Tipping her hat again, she turns and heads for the door.
<El-Cideon> ~

Knowledge check results:

The brother speaks: "Cast by chance to the land of elven eternity, the lord of midnight feathers claims me as his own. In his glorious prison, I live as art."

-"Land of elven eternity" is clearly Arborea, as the god of the elves calls this plane home. However, you have no idea who or what "lord of midnight feathers" could refer to.

The brother speaks again, and his sister accompanies in a feral snarl: "We who were two become one. I run through the forest of eternal night and forsake the words of mankind. I lose myself. I forget. I howl."

-"Forest of eternal night" most probably refers to Karasuthra, the lowest layer of the Beastlands and a forest perpetually cloaked in darkness.

Both voices: "We gnaw at the heart of stone itself, unearthing a prize to feed our masters' appetites." The sister: "When I grow frail, I am sold to a glittering beast. He eats my dreams." Her brother: "When I grow weary, I am sold to the dark sisters. I...I--THIS ONE'S FATE IS OCCLUDED."

-"Heart of stone" likely implies the plane of Earth. Context would suggest the captives were in the dubious care of the dao djinn. The other references do not clearly relate to common planar inhabitants that you know of.

The brother intones: "In the deepest pit beneath the howling caverns, I forget the touch of sunlight. I scream for escape and am answered. The outside enters me and becomes me. I bleed cancer."

-The description of "howling caverns" suggests Pandemonium, a plane composed of exactly that and prone to driving visitors mad with its endless wailing winds. It sounds like your quarry is trapped in its lowest layer, Agathion.

And finally, the sister again: "Those I wish to save reward sacrifice with betrayal and the city of chains wraps me in its iron embrace. I wither. I break. I submit. The machine of war turns by my hand."

-"City of chains" clearly refers to Jangling Hiter, a city suspended by chains above the swamps of Minauros, third layer of Baator.

~

Nisbet has one final piece of advice before seeing you out her door and returning her home to its natural habitat: "I suppose I should warn you...if you do find this woman, do not expect her to be alone. She was accompanied by two men when she called upon me. One a wizard of some sort, an elderly man with a stern and upright manner, and the careful imitation of a smile. He was not formally introduced to me. The other was a much younger man, perhaps somewhat beyond your years. Polaris called him "Jacono." Blond hair, shadowed her heels like a guard dog. Could have been handsome, but something about him wasn't quite right--eyes a mite too far apart, nails too sharp. I suspect something less than human in his parentage."