033: Counting seconds before we turn to ash

[Sierra]

<Cidward> Farewells are said, protective spells are cast, and the party warps off to test just how resilient their magics make them against the deleterious effects of a world made of flame!
<Cidward> roll 5d100 obligatory Rosey inaccuracy test
* Hatbot --> "Cidward rolls 5d100 obligatory Rosey inaccuracy test and gets 284."12 [5d100=94, 39, 72, 50, 29]
* Cidward changes topic to 'Current planar traits: 3d10 fire damage/round, fire magic enhanced, water magic impeded | '
<Cidward> In a blink, you stand atop a mountain of compressed flame, all about you the air shimmers with oppressive heat, roiling flame constitutes the landscape instead of tree and bush--even the ground at your feet looks eager to spring up and consume you. Your vantage point offers you just enough of a view to perceive a sea of liquid fire off in the distance, extending out of sight. There is nothing within your perception that resembles civilization of any sort. (more)
<Cidward> Though your protective spells ward you against immolation, you are still as uncomfortably hot as noontime on a summer's day, and one may expect sweating through one's clothes to become the norm while here. Perhaps less expected than the heat is the noise of the plane--a constant low hum of flame crackling and biting at the air surrounds on all sides.
* Franceska nods in appreciation.
<Steph> "This is unpleasant! Is this how you people feel in summer?" asks Stephanie, loosening her shirt a little.
<Julia> "It's not as loud in Summer, but yes," Julia says glumly, her delicate constitution tending to rebel against such heat.
<Franceska> Seeing no reason to change out of her pleasantly warm white fur coat, Franceska raises an eyebrow. "What precisely is unpleasant about this?"
<Steph> "It's hot, you insufferable witch!"
<Cidward> "And people *live* here?!" Rosemund exclaims in amazement after a quick glance around. Everyone's lit shades of red and orange in the perpetual furnace glow, and other colors tend to wither from sight in the glare.
<Franceska> Do people really live here? Franceska takes a look.
<Cidward> Franceska does not immediately see anything that looks like people. But then, this does not exactly look like an inhabited area.
<Julia> "Well, not here here. But around?" Julia hazards. "Where should we go anyway?" she looks up in case there's even a sun to navigate by. Maybe they're on the sun...
<Steph> "Weren't we teleporting?"
<Franceska> "It is ridiculously dangerous to do that without ever having been to the city in the first place!" Franceska exclaims. "It would be better to find some locals first and get directions."
<Cidward> The sky above radiates heat and flame just as well as the ground does. Everything is alight so everything is light. There could be no night in such a world; the closest one could get to darkness is to step within one of the occasional banks of smoke that roll across the landscape.
* Franceska turns into a large snowy owl and flies up to take a better look from above.
<Steph> "Yes, well..." Stephanie looks around herself. "I suppose we'd better start looking," she says, uncertain as to how they'll find anyone, or if there's anyone out here to find. "Isn't this plane meant to be infinite?.."
<Julia> "Yes, I believe so," Julia nods. "But the plane shift has to have brought us within... well, within several hundred miles of the city. We just have to avoid walking away from it."
<Franceska> roll 1d20+20
* Hatbot --> "Franceska rolls 1d20+20 and gets 32."12 [1d20=12]
<Cidward> Fran thinks she can barely make out some structure leaning out over the sea of lava. It looks like...a dock?
* Franceska flies back down and then points a wing in the direction before starting to fly there.
* Julia watches her fly with ill-concealed jealousy before she starts walking over the solidified flame in the same direction.
<Steph> "I hope this stuff is stable," mutters Stephanie, tapping the ground with her foot before walking after Julia.
<Cidward> On drawing closer, Franceska can see that it is in fact a pier. Made of fire, standing on pylons of fire, reaching out over an ocean made of liquid fire. There is a ship floating in the sea next to it, a longship with banks of oars and no sail, and on the pier before it a group of small humanoid figures are crouched in a circle. About four feet tall, composed of flame themselves, looking somewhat devilish with their tails and wings. They are rolling a set of charred steel dice when you arrive.
* Franceska turns back into her human self as she lands on the pier. She adjusts her hat, and then looks over the humanoids. "Who might you be?" she asks them in Infernal.
<Cidward> There's half a dozen of them immediately in sight. On being spoken to, they exchange glances amongst themselves, respond with the apparently universal gesture of ignorance (the shrug), and one of them with a masculine air and a pointed chin addresses Franceska in a tongue like the crackling of flames. It is decidedly not Infernal.
<Franceska> "Let us try this again," she says in Common, now. "Can you understand me?"
<Cidward> Walking down the mountain takes the others a bit longer, but they soon arrive to find Franceska conversing with what looks like a band of burning, oversized imps.
<Cidward> "Ah, outsider!" the leader brightens up (even moreso), responding in Common. "How big bird not burn?" he asks, pointing at you.
<Julia> Since Franceska has it well in hand, Julia just approaches to stand a bit behind her, letting her handle the conversation for now.
<Franceska> "Magic, of course," Franceska responds. "I am looking for the City of Brass. How far from it am I?"
<Cidward> Rosemund stands and listens as well, looking absolutely miserable in her armor.
<Steph> "Weren't we going to Ashpile?" mutters Stephanie.
<Julia> "I thought we were delivering a letter in Brass," Julia says, clearly not on the same page.
<Cidward> "Ooh, great magician!" he concludes, obviously impressed. "Oh, Brasstown far away." He turns and consults with his henchbeings. There is a lot of confused pointing, but the group consensus seems to be northwest. "Over mountains, past firebeard town. Way way past firebeard town! You folk lost?"
<Cidward> "I was aiming for Ashpile," Rosemund admits quietly.
<Franceska> "It happens on the first visit," Franceska admits. "Where exactly are we, then? Where is the nearest town?"
<Steph> "W-well, we need to do that, too," replies Stephanie, rubbing her head.
<Julia> "Oh. Are we investigating the betrayal of that one who signed up with the cornugon?" Julia asks, trying to get back on the same page!
<Steph> "Yeah, that was what I thought. Jill Cook!"
<Cidward> "Firebeard town in valley past mountain," the creature says, pointing back the way you came from. "If it still there. They fight salamanders all the time, sometimes town there one day gone the next." He shrugs, unconcerned with someone else's wars. "Other towns up and down the coast. Easier to move by boat! Mountains everywhere, no mountains on the sea."
<Franceska> "Ah, of course. That is your ship, then? In that case, would you have a map of the region? It would make things easier if we were to take a look at it."
<Cidward> "Ahh, map?" His companions snigger behind him. "Map burn! So map up here." He points to his head. "What you looking for, great magician?"
* Franceska nods in understanding, even though it feels so inefficient to her. "I wish to visit two places while here. The City of Brass, and Ashpile. I need to find the best route to visit both, as well as secure transportation for that."
<Cidward> "Brasstown long way, can't go all the way by boat. We take you past mountains, find road? Cindertown closer." He shivers, somehow. "Bad place, coldtown! So I hear, never been. Why visit coldtown?" He shrugs. "Near road to Brasstown, week on boat then you walk a little."
<Franceska> "If it's closer, then that is where we wish to go first," Franceska decides. "We heard it was a bad place as well, so we decided to see just why that was."
<Cidward> "Oh, you curious!" He smiles. "We curious too. Trade travel for stories. Great magician got stories? Other places, other worlds! We just seen Fire. Well, except Ithniss here, once wizard summon her." A more feminine flame creature draws herself up with pride. "He commanded me to keep his hearth stoked and light his cigars!" she squeaks with awe. "...Then adventurers kill wizard and stab Ithniss' face."
<Franceska> "How unprofessional of them."
<Steph> "Nah, they got the wizard first, so they're pros," whispers Stephanie to Julia.
<Cidward> "So you give us good story of unburning worlds, we take you past mountains," the leader sums up. "We got deal?"
* Julia nods in agreement of that wisdom. "Well we're just full of stories, aren't we? I wonder if I'll meet that Thoqqa I summoned while we explore Fire, though... it was nice."
<Franceska> "Yes," Franceska responds. "It sounds very reasonable."
<Cidward> "Okay great magician, you lay it on us." His crew stands at attention to listen.
<Franceska> "The best story will certainly be of the horrible plane of Earth," Franceska muses. "We had only arrived at our destination upon it when we found the town under attack by unscrupulous mercenaries from Air, lead by an ice-using witch. But as they fled and we pursued, we ended up learning that there was more to it than seemed at first sight," she starts with, describing the yuan-ti pulling
<Franceska> the strings behind the mercenary raid and the diversion of a demonic attack in the middle of the night just as they were getting close to figuring things out. "And so things came to a head when the dao were attacked by the remnants of the yuan-ti forces in their stronghold, while a massive army of skeletons was set upon them both by one of the local wizards just as we ourselves went in. Yet,
<Franceska> in the end, we were the ones who emerged from that battle victorious and alive."
<Cidward> "Evil witch!" they all breath in horror at the mere mention of ice. "You good people if you kill ice witch. Why Earth so awful? We hear there lots of pretty rocks there!"
<Franceska> "Because one moment you are trying to sleep or walk or just mind your own business, and the other the walls around you try to crush you to death. It is both painful and humiliating."
<Cidward> "So you sleep out of doors?" one of them offers, evidently not seeing the problem.
<Franceska> "If you sleep indoors, it crushes your home with you."
<Julia> "There is no out of doors," Julia tells them. "No sky, no sea, no mountains. Everything is a cave."
<Cidward> "No outside to sleep in?" The creature wonders, puzzling over this strange concept. "If there no outside, how there inside?" He clutches his head in an existential quandary.
<Franceska> "It is a strange place."
<Julia> "Yes, other planes are confusing, aren't they?" she agrees gently.
<Steph> "You can escape the stone by becoming the stone," muses Stephanie.
<Cidward> Rosemund coughs. "And by having someone to cure you later," she adds quietly.
<Cidward> "Much confusion!" the gang all agrees on this. The leader nods. "So many other worlds we hear, and all of them not on fire." He shakes his head in amazement and gestures his crew towards the boat. "You come onboard, we get going."
<Julia> "You are most gracious," Julia tells them, very carefully climbing aboard. If she falls overboard it won't be her lack of swimming skills that gets her.
<Steph> "Isn't hell basically on fire, too?" wonders Stephanie, stepping after her.
<Franceska> "Only some of Hell."
<Cidward> "Some of Hell frozen, efreeti tell us once," the leader says. "Awful place to have ice everywhere! Must be worst of all worlds."
<Julia> "Some parts are frozen or swampy or, uh... fleshy."
<Steph> "I guess it diversifies in pain."
<Franceska> "There is a Hell for everyone's taste, yes."
<Cidward> The crew takes up position at the oars. "Hup, hup! Shove off, move out, all that sort of thing! Sound beat!" There's a fire elemental perched at the stern of the ship, and at the captain's signal he beats his fists rhythmically against a heavy metal gong. The crew pulls the oars in time and the boat slips away from the shore.
<Steph> Stephanie looks at the boat to see what it's actually made of.
* Julia tries to find a good spot to sit. They're going to be on the boat for a week after all.
<Cidward> The boat is, somehow, composed of cinders and flame hammered into a coherent shape. It looks somewhat like a conglomeration of glowing coals. How it floats atop a sea of lava and is not consumed by it is something of a mystery. Julia finds there is a lower deck somewhat sheltered from the burning glare of the sky and the noise of the crew.
<Cidward> It doesn't make for the most relaxing journey you've ever had. When the crew isn't singing lava sea shanties in sinuous Ignan, they're pestering their passengers for tales of exotic and far-flung locales, and the DWOOM DWOOM DWOOM of the gong is an incessant roar in your ears. Rosey takes to forsaking her armor for the journey and resting in her underthings when she's not in sight of the crew. It's not an *terrible* journey, exactly--it's probably a routine one for this world--but after a week of the noise sight of land is more than welcome.
<Cidward> "Here we are!" the captain announces as the boat draws up to another pier at last. Past a shore of cinders the land to the north before you gives way to flickering plains of fire. There is a road of sorts, more flat and compact than the oft-shifting ground of the plane itself.
<Franceska> "That is the way?" Franceska asks, glancing out at the shore. "We follow that road?"
<Steph> "Aww, it was fun, you guys!" proclaims Stephanie. She might have yet to master Ignan, but she can sure belt out a few more terrible songs than she could the week before!
<Julia> All other things aside, they were friendly and generous, so Julia is effusive in her thanks for them making the effort. "If we're ever in the area again we'll be sure to bring more stories for you all."
<Cidward> "Follow road until road become four road," he confirms. "Go left, you find Brasstown after couple weeks. Go straight, it cindertown down that way. Couple days, some change? Right is...what's right?" One of his crew chitters at him in Ignan. "Lots of nothing then giants. Giants squish people for fun! Don't go right."
<Cidward> "Sure, sure," he responds. "If we not at pier, you just wait, we be there sometime. Not more than a month, promise!"
<Julia> "Thank you, and farewell," Julia waves to them as she steps off onto the pier. It's not so bad to stretch her legs, oppressive heat or no.
<Cidward> They all wave and cheer in farewell then, apparently with nothing more pressing to do, go back to their interrupted game on the pier. It's most of the day's walk before you reach the crossroads specified. The landscape you pass might be reminiscent of rural Solata in its flat uniformity, but for the fact that everything is alight. As described, the road splits four ways here. A metal sign has arrows pointing west and north; displayed in Common and Ignan are City of Brass and Ashpile, respectively.
<Franceska> "Ashpile is closest," Franceska muses. "I don't suppose anyone managed to pick up the fire language in the week we spent here?"
<Cidward> Rosemund shakes her head. "Perhaps some curses?" she guesses, sailors being sailors on any world. "Not that I should use them."
<Julia> "I've learned a few swear words but that's about it," Julia apologises.
<Franceska> "If we come across someone we hate, there will be a chance to properly insult them before we kill them," Franceska decides, starting to head towards Ashpile
<Steph> "Just use Abyssal! It sounds so horrid that the exact words don't matter!"
<Julia> "I know that," Julia nods agreeably. "It's impossible to compliment someone in it, though."
<Cidward> "If a demon tells you that you are a horrible person," Rosemund speculates, "is that not a compliment, in a way?"
<Franceska> "Not the way demons tell you that."
<Julia> "And it's not a compliment most would wish to hear. Though Thing tells me I'm a most disgustingly underhanded and cruel mistress," Julia sighs airily.
<Steph> "You're not that underhanded," Stephanie assures her.
<Julia> "I don't think so either," she agrees, not getting it immediately.
<Cidward> Rosemund's ability to generate water for the group to drink proves starkly diminished as you make your way north. The nature of the plane itself conspires to confound her spells from even working, sometimes. So it's a rather parched group that follows the road through rolling hills for a little over two days to find Ashpile. That you have found it is not in question: you reach the crest of a hill, and there it is before you on the next. Where all else on Fire is vibrant with light, Ashpile's dullness is aggressive in its contrast. The town's name is distressingly literal, you see--the ash rains which constitute Fire's precipitation seem to collect there through some unseen force.
<Julia> "Are we sure we'll find anything worthwhile there?" Julia asks warily.
<Cidward> Most of the visible buildings are low domes, looking like dour concrete polyps from a distance. One or two larger structures sprawl with aspiration towards being mansions. There is also some manner of crowd gathered at the edge of town near the road, you can see.
<Steph> "Nope. At least on Earth, you knew there were shiny rocks around," admits Stephanie. "But I bet Fire has no worthwhile exports at all!"
<Franceska> "If the betrayal was significant enough to land a goody two-shoes willingly in Hell, locals must still remember it," Franceska insists. "Although we should really put it more diplomatically when we ask."
<Cidward> "One does wonder how people can live here," Rosemund agrees. "But Marcus did say that people lived here..."
<Cidward> The town's perimeter is delineated by a ring of gray stones; within the ring they sit unblemished, but externally, on your side, they glow, half-melted, from the natural heat of the plane.
<Julia> With nothing else for it, Julia starts walking towards the town, focusing on the crowd for lack of anything better.
<Franceska> "Does Fire have any inns?" Franceska wonders out loud, taking a look about her.
<Steph> "Magic helps, but it really makes you wonder why they bother," mutters Stephanie.
<Cidward> The mob you see is largely composed of two groups: there is a collection of men and women, mostly recognizably human, some with firelike features about their skin or hair, and a smattering of bronze (metal)-skinned figures of dwarflike stature. Men and women alike dress merely in a simple loincloth; the heat within town is less lethal, but still uncomfortable. One may notice that the visible female denizens are of very young or very old age. The other half of the crowd are armed men wearing chainmail and the device of a red hand on their breast. (more)
<Cidward> Their collective attention is on automaton that towers over any of the denizens, standing eight feet in height. It is a machine in the shape of a man, sheets of black metal welded together, with two slits for eyes and one humorless slash of a mouth. Light emanates from some internal flame within it. This figure has singled out one aging man from the crowd, at which it points violently while haranguing the citizenry in bellowed Ignan.
<Steph> Stephanie wanders towards the mob, asking the first man she finds- "What's going on?"
<Julia> "Anyone know what it's saying?" Julia asks quietly, listening for any familiar swears.
<Franceska> roll 1d20+10
* Hatbot --> "Franceska rolls 1d20+10 and gets 29."12 [1d20=19]
<Cidward> Fortunately the machine-man is thorough enough to repeat himself in Common. Ashpile's citizenry bilingual perhaps? "The condemned is formally expelled from our protection," it grates. To the lone man, who looks resigned to the situation: "You shall walk until you become one with the essence of Fire."
<Franceska> "Condemned for what offense?" Franceska asks, professional interest spiking.
<Cidward> No one looks eager to answer Stephanie or Julia, or be seen speaking to them, but Franceska's flagrant interjection warrants attention. The automaton's scorched metal head creaks in her direction. "You interrupt the proceedings of justice. His crime is theft and conspiracy to commit murder. He has been judged. He has been sentenced. He has been condemned." Again it turns to the man and juts a finger towards the outskirts of town, towards which the condemned shuffles obediently.
* Franceska nods in understanding. "Who is the relevant authority in this town?" she asks the automaton.
<Cidward> One of the armored men weaves his way through the crowd, with a squadron of soldiers in tow. Blonde, with a neatly-trimmed mustache and close-cropped hair, and an aggressively martial bearing. "I am," he states. Turning back to the golem: "Carry on, Cokely. I'll welcome our visitors." He gestures insistently towards the town proper.
* Julia shrugs and walks in the direction indicated.
<Franceska> "Hello," Franceska greets him, following along. "What are the laws of Ashpile? We should hear them upon arriving."
<Cidward> Rosemund spares one last, uncomfortable glance for the condemned man before following along with her friends. "From visitors we ask little," the soldier says. "Ashpile is a point of transmit for most. We don't pry into the affairs of travelers and accordingly expect them to behave respectably while within our perimeter. Do not steal, murder, or defraud, and you have nothing to fear."
<Franceska> "What about residents?"
<Cidward> "Residents are obliged to respect our authority," he says with a bland smile. He has led you to the front steps of a broad, two-story house in the center of town, the only multistory structure you can see. "Living is harsh on this world. It's only with proper discipline that we survive."
<Cidward> From somewhere out beyond the crowd, there is a short, sharp scream, then silence.
<Steph> "From the sounds of it, this place protects people from the heat, right?" guesses Stephanie.
<Cidward> Cokely's voice scrapes out briefly, audible even quite far away: "Justice is complete. You may disperse."
<Cidward> "To be perfectly exact, the portal protects us from the heat," the soldier explains. "The negative energy seeps through and counters the lethality of the flames. Quite fatal on the other side, but here just enough for balance."
<Franceska> "Portal?" Franceska asks curiously. "A portal to where, if I might ask?"
<Cidward> "You didn't come seeking it?" he sounds surprised. And perhaps a little intrigued. "Most of our visitors are passing through en route to adventure or seeking plunder in the Negative Energy plane."
<Julia> Julia perks up at the sound of that. "Really? There's a portal right here? And it goes both ways?"
<Steph> "Didn't know that," muses Stephanie. "That why all the ash gathers around here?"
<Cidward> He nods to both. "Yes...although Overseer Esgara has barred entry to the portal at present. To prevent escape of suspects while the murders continue." He sketches a respectful bow. "Of course, as newcomers, you are quite free from suspicion. You may be able to wrangle passage if your business is urgent."
<Steph> "Murders?" asks Stephanie, frowning. "Well, you just killed someone for that, right, so wouldn't it be open again soon?"
<Franceska> "Murders?" Franceska asks incredulously.
<Julia> "Well, really just curiosity," Julia admits. "But didn't the golem say conspiracy, so there must be others?"
<Cidward> He frowns. "It would hardly be proper for me to discuss details of an ongoing investigation," he says stiffly. "I can only assure you that ours is a properly ordered town excepting this recent unpleasantness."
<Franceska> "Is there anywhere in town for us to stay while we wait for the orderly reopening of the portal?"
<Cidward> "Oh yes," he smiles. "We do boast mercantile establishments for the provisioning of travelers. Cinders is the usual stop for visitors in need of rest and refreshment. I may vouch for the proprietor as a man of reliable character."
* Franceska nods. "Yes, that sounds agreeable. Oh, the townspeople that were there to observe the execution. Was that everyone who lives here?"
<Cidward> "Most," he says simply. "Now if you'll excuse me, ma'am, I have a training regimen to administer. Should you have any difficulties, the Burning Hand authority resides here. I am Lieutenant Trask, presently commanding officer in Ashpile. Good day to you all." He bows and turns to leave, unless there's anything else to be posed to him immediately.
<Franceska> "Good day," Franceska returns, turning towards the others. "How about checking into Cinders for now?"
<Cidward> "If there are not men burning alive there," Rosemund says with audible discomfort, "I should think it an improvement."
<Franceska> "Perhaps we can find out why this town is disproportionally filled with children and the elderly."
<Julia> "I'm sure the answer will be depressing and awful," Julia concludes. "Lets keep a watch if we go to sleep, even in the inn."
<Steph> "Can't be too careful. We gotta ask around about Cook."
<Franceska> "Shall we, then?"
<Cidward> Rosemund nods, and embarks on a brief stroll down the streets. Ashpile is laid out in a cross pattern, and small enough that there are no true side streets. The northernmost structure is the Burning Hand compound; at the south end of town is a very large domed structure; the shops seem to cluster along the west end, where you came in. Cinders is evident from a blackened wooden sign with the word seared into it in Common. The interior of the establishment is surprisingly full, almost packed with a diverse assortment of travelers from a multitude of species. Most look like they've been in residence nursing their drinks for quite some time. The barman present is a beefy middle-aged man with a mane of red hair that glows dully like embers.
* Franceska looks for any humans!
<Steph> Stephanie heads to the bar and takes a seat, aiming to engage in rapport-building with the bartender by way of legal tender.
<Cidward> There's a couple bands of obviously human travelers here, usually following the same pattern: older man with the look of a traveling merchant, younger men as obvious hired security.
<Cidward> The barman nods happily to at the presence of another customer, but his smile isn't the most natural you've ever seen. "Morning to you, miss. What can we get for you today?"
<Steph> "It's morning? I seriously had no idea," replies Stephanie. "Got any specials?"
<Franceska> "Hello," Franceska says, approaching the nearest human group that has an empty chair. "Have you been here in Ashpile for long?"
* Julia tags along with Stephanie, wondering if there's anything interesting to drink after living on water for the past week.
<Cidward> He grins, with a more genuine chuckle. "We call it morning. Very big on routine around here. The soldier types like to say they keep the same clock as the old country...but as to that, I don't know how anyone could tell." To both customers, he nods vigorously. "Well, we got native drinks, firewine and the like, which is exactly as it sounds, there's crates of Infernal gutrot come through Brass if that suits your fancy...but most folk when they first come in off the road, they've a *real* thirst, am I right?"
<Cidward> One of the men look up at Franceska. "Too long, I'd call it," a gray-haired peddler with a weary look to his long face grouses.
<Steph> "My emergency flask ran out the first day we were here. I could kill for a stiff drink," replies Stephanie.
<Julia> "I just want something refreshing and flavourful," Julia tells him, not wanting to have her throat seared.
* Franceska makes use of that empty seat. "Excuse me for being so direct, but is there some kind of problem? I happened across an execution just as I arrived, and it sounds as if the portal out is kept closed?"
<Cidward> He gives you a conspiratorial glance, peers one way and then the next, makes a show of reaching under the bar and drawing out an ornate bottle of something brilliantly clear and ocean blue. "Well, if you want something sweet, I'd go with this," he suggests to Julia. "Sweetwater right from Elysium. Tough thing to get in you out here, so it'll cost you a couple gold a glass, but I find nothing else better for making you forget that inferno you just walked through." To Stephanie: "Now you, it sounds like you just want to hit the floor, is that it?"
<Steph> "I gotta stay awake today, but anything short of that..."
* Julia digs into her bag and puts two gold on the counter without argument. "That should hit the spot nicely."
<Cidward> The irritated old peddler sits upright, heaves a sigh fraught with undue personal hardship. "Oh sure, official mans the portal gate won't let nobody through 'til whoever's killing the soldiers gets himself caught," he explains. "And meanwhile we all just sit here watching all our coin run to drink. Is that justice, I ask you?" He throws up his hands.
<Franceska> "So the soldiers are the ones getting killed?" Franceska frowns. "I would have thought it would be the young women." She pauses, and then asks flatly, "There aren't any slavers who abduct them here, are there?"
<Cidward> The bartender pours Julia a tumbler of something crystal and sparkling. It's almost musical just hearing it hit the glass. He slides it over to her then turns back to Stephanie. "Well, let me see..." He rummages around under the bar. "Ale from Ysgard do ya? Put a real fighting spirit in you--just don't go exercising it in my bar! Tougher for me to get even, but I can tell a real thirst when I see one, so we'll keep it two gold just between us, eh?"
<Steph> "Aww, you're a pal!" exclaims Stephanie, throwing down three. "What's your name, or wouldya be happy with 'hey, barkeep?!'
* Julia lifts it to her lips and takes a delicate sip, trying to make it last.
<Cidward> "'Recruitment's' the word 'round here, isn't it?" one of the peddler's bodyguards puts in drunkenly. His employer shushes him into silence. "Nah, it's just the lieutenant's men from what I hear. Wasn't in town to see the first one, mind."
<Franceska> "Recruitment?"
<Cidward> "Ibbert's what my parents graced me with, but if 'barkeep' rolls off the tongue better you can stick with that," the barman says while pouring Steph a mug of something golden. Julia's drink is indeed refreshing, and just a sip instantly wipes away the feeling of heat and grime that's assailed you for a week. Drinking a little is like swimming naked in a pristine, heavenly lake.
<Steph> "Sure," replies Stephanie, grabbing the drink and knocking some back.
<Cidward> The peddler punches his bodyguard in the shoulder. "If you're smart, you don't tell the soldiers how to go about their business," he cautions Franceska. "You just see to yours and move on. Always assuming the damn snake'll open the door for you!" he complains again.
<Franceska> "What sort of outfit is that, anyway? I never heard of the Burning Hand before. Where do they come from?"
<Julia> "Ahh, this is nice," Julia smiles serenely.
<Cidward> Stephanie's drink has a kick to it, alright, almost literally! Do you hear war drums? You feel like you should go mess somebody up right now! But you know, only for justice and all that, only good sport and all.
<Cidward> "Do I look like a scholar?" the peddler says, annoyed at the question. Or just annoyed in general. "I gather they got one here if you give a damn," he allows. "Some old blighter keeps up the company's old barracks on the east end, like it were some bloody museum."
<Steph> Stephanie's eyes glaze over for a moment. "So there's murderers, huh?" she says, leaning over the bar and looking intensely at the barkeep. "Who are they?! Do you know anything? I'll take 'em down!"
* Julia looks at Stephanie with mild surprise. "We're involving ourselves?"
<Cidward> "Whoa there, missy," the bartender cautions. "Now, the official word is the Burning Hand's on the job. Doesn't do to get in their way, I can tell you."
<Steph> "That's nothing new. Lawmakers always get peeved when lawbreakers bring in criminals!"
<Cidward> "Huh," he grunts. "Well, truth be told, the tollman might give you something if you figure it out. Not his men getting killed, but he's no happier for it happening in his town."
<Cidward> Rosemund looks at Julia. "In has been my experience that involving ourselves is something of a bad habit," she observes.
<Franceska> "I guess not. I must say I am curious about one thing. Is there anyone on the Negative Energy plane to actually trade with?"
<Julia> "I suppose so. I'm more concerned about the demographics of the population than someone killing the authorities, though," Julia says, still calmly sipping her drink.
<Steph> "Yeah, what's with that? Is someone stealing your women? I'll take 'em down!"
<Cidward> "If you got the backbone to deal with them," the peddler says. "You know, mummies and that lot, not every man can stand up straight and look them in the eye to try--those what still have eyes--and drive a bargain. But there's things some of them want aren't easy to find on their side, so if you've got the stomach for working with them, there could be a tidy profit in it."
<Franceska> "So it involves a lot of dealings with dead people, who still want something?"
<Cidward> "Most of Ashpile's ladies reside in the women's barracks," Ibbert says carefully, not meeting anyone's gaze as he speaks this time. "Captain's policy is not to recruit passing merchants and the like, so you've no need to worry about yourselves."
<Cidward> The peddler nods. "Helps if you go talk to Halja, got a shop near the dome. She's got contacts with folk that'll bargain before trying to eat you. Just don't comment on her condition none."
* Julia puts her glass down and calmly asks, "They're not soldiers, are they?"
<Cidward> He grunts a negative and busies himself arranging glasses behind the bar.
<Franceska> "She is a dead person who knows other prominent dead people, then?" Franceska nods to herself. "It should be worth having a word with her. Thank you."
<Julia> "Suddenly I find myself struck with a desire to get involved and mess some people up," she says, looking at Stephanie and then at Rosemund.
<Cidward> "Yeah, that's it," the peddler confirms. "See, that's the attitude to have. Don't make no big issue what other people do when they're not doing business with you, you might do well here."
<Cidward> "I am not certain I understand," Rosemund says uncomfortably.
<Steph> "Gimme more of that stuff!" demands Stephanie, handing over another six gold pieces.
<Julia> "Do you remember what that elf in Arborea planned for us?" Julia asks Rosemund, trying to introduce the concept to her gently.
<Cidward> "I think maybe you've had enough, missy," Ibbert says to Stephanie. Instead, he pours her another glass from the Elysium bottle. "In fact, I think you could use a dash of this. On the house."
<Cidward> "I do not know if he really told us that..." Rosemund recalls. "It was very confusing."
<Steph> Stephanie pushes it away, though she leaves the gold. "Well I'm gonna go and find out," she declares, picking herself up and storming out of the tavern.
<Franceska> Seeing Stephanie head outside, Franceska excuses herself to check what is going on.
<Julia> "Well I don't think they're as happy as Mercedes' employees," Julia says, getting up and following hot on Stephanie's heels.
<Cidward> The bartender sighs. To Julia and Rosemund: "Better get a handle on your friend before she gets in some trouble."
<Cidward> Rosemund rushes after the others into the street. "Stephanie! Stephanie, there are many of them and four of us! Please slow down!"
<Franceska> "What is it that you are doing?" Franceska inquires, choosing to ask Julia.
<Steph> "It's okay, Rosemund!" replies Stephanie, looking over her shoulder. "I just wanna go take a look."
<Julia> "All the women are in the barracks. It doesn't take a huge leap of the imagination to guess at what their role is," Julia says for Franceska's benefit.
<Franceska> "So I presume that we don't like these people and will try to kill them?" Franceska asks. "How many of them are there, in addition to that badly-made golem?"
<Steph> "Lots. Too many," replies Stephanie, gritting her teeth.
<Julia> "I don't know but I can make big clouds of deadly fog which should turn lots into none," Julia says with a smile.
<Franceska> "How many is too many?" Franceska asks reasonably. "We were going to take on a drow camp with several dozen."
<Steph> "Yeah, but we were gonna have help?" replies Stephanie. "Look, I reckon we should go find out what's actually happening before, uh... starting any shit."
<Julia> "I suppose it could all be a misunderstanding. Then we can all laugh," Julia agrees, still smiling.
<Cidward> "I have not seen anything here that I could feel right laughing at," Rosemund admits.
<Franceska> "Julia, there is a possibly undead shopkeeper who might put us in contact with mummies and other undead," Franceska muses. "I was thinking of asking her if she heard about our dead queen, but she might be useful in learning more about this situation as well. If Stephanie could just try to find out what happened here from the locals, we might have all the information we need."
<Cidward> "I can go with Stephanie?" Rosemund volunteers. "It sounds as though it would perhaps be a bad idea for any of us to go somewhere alone..."
<Julia> "Alright, Franceska and I it is."
<Franceska> "Oh fine," Franceska says reluctantly. "And if it comes to that, someone has clearly been killing all these soldiers, and you saw how the merchants had their own mercenary teams for protection. It doesn't need to be just us against the troops."
<Steph> Stephanie rubs her head. "I was just gonna sneak into the barracks and see what's going on for myself," she replies.
<Franceska> "I suppose if you get caught and placed into slavery, we will eventually rescue you."
<Cidward> "Oh," Rosemund says. "Well, if it goes badly, I can...run in and save you?" she speculates.
<Steph> "Please! And when you do, can you carry me out like a princess?"
<Cidward> "Of course!"
<Franceska> "Just die."
<Steph> "If I die while you're on the plane of death, is that irony?" muses Stephanie.
* Franceska rolls her eyes.
<Cidward> ~