036: I demand a better future

[Sierra]

<El-Cideon> Silence of the grave covers Ashpile after the battle, save for the ever-present hissing of the flames outside town. The plaza outside the barracks is strewn with bodies: soldiers, citizens, the charred husks of fire elementals, and the rusted remains of a malformed golem. As Stephanie rushes off beyond the barracks with Rosemund in tow to liberate those imprisoned here, Franceska and Julia find themselves alone with their local collaborators: the bearded, longhaired tiefling swordsman, and the mage with twisted posture (who could only be Crooked Anna, judging by the lieutenant's log).
<Julia> "So, job well done everyone, wouldn't you say?" Julia smiles nicely at their two new allies as the skeletal remains of Esgara loom behind her.
<El-Cideon> The swordsman is effusive with praise for your assistance as he surveys the carnage, but Anna looks less well convinced. "It would've been neater if we could've arranged this without any of the townsfolk dying," she says with a grimace.
<Franceska> Her regular human self once more, Franceska gives the wreck of the golem a look of disdain. "I suppose," she says noncommittally, returning her attention to the living. "Perhaps now we might find out just what is wrong with this town?"
<Julia> "We know what's wrong, don't we? Someone decided women should be locked away and used for pleasure and breeding with no say of their own. Hopefully that someone is among the dead here at least," she sweeps her gaze about the many many corpses.
<Franceska> "It seemed like there was more to it," Franceska muses. "Dating back at least to the time Jill Cook was here?"
<El-Cideon> "Everything?" the tiefling ventures for his part. "We got plenty of 'em," he notes with satisfaction, "but this shitheap'll just build itself up again unless someone kills the Captain." He adds grimly: "That's my next stop."
<Julia> "Oh, I forgot, the whole reason we came here was about her, wasn't it?" Julia reflects, her revolutionary fervour having left it by the wayside. "Where's this captain then? You'd think he'd come and see what all the shouting and screaming and dying was about, wouldn't he?" she asks the tiefling.
<El-Cideon> Anna looks at Franceska with interest. "Not a popular name among the soldiery. The Captain prefers it not be spoken."
<Franceska> "The Captain will just have to learn to live with disappointment."
<El-Cideon> "He's living off the spoils of his filth over in Brass," the man says. "This lot here--" he gestures to the array of corpses, "--this is just the latest 'crop.' It doesn't stop until someone's put a sword in his gut." To Franceska: "Well, that's not exactly MY plan."
<Julia> "Oh, we were planning on going to Brass to deliver a letter," Julia muses. "I suppose, like our journey here, we can add a bit of violent justice to our plans."
* Franceska winces. "I suppose we could just plane shift away after starting a fight in Brass," she allows.
<El-Cideon> "I suppose there's no other kind," Anna says with a degree of resignation. "But we should know who our allies are, shouldn't we? I am Anna, and this is Anton." She gestures to the tiefling without much evidence of fondness.
<Franceska> "Franceska Durant," she introduces herself.
<Julia> "Julia Astin," the necromancer dips her head in acknowledgement. "And you all know Esgara, I'm sure."
<El-Cideon> Anna eyes the undead with distaste. Anton merely snorts a laugh at the salamander's new appearance. "Well, he'll be more useful than he was in life, I'll bet."
<Franceska> "I suppose that's true," Franceska agrees, studiously ignoring Esgara. "So. Just how did this get started? And how come no one ever did anything about this?"
<Julia> "Yes, I didn't much like him before. But I'm sure we'll get along famously, now!"
<El-Cideon> "Someone WAS doing something about this," Anton says. "In the end some strangers just accelerated his plans a little."
<Julia> "Ahh, the assassin we were told about when we arrived," Julia says, realising it's fairly obvious if given a moment's thought.
<El-Cideon> He sketches a bow, flush with pride. "It started twenty or so years ago," Anna fills in. "A rogue general from the Prime set up shop here and made it what you see now. It was a quiet refuge for escaped slaves before that."
<Franceska> "So these slaves somehow escaped here, but couldn't get out? Not to mention being too poor to afford passage somewhere?"
<El-Cideon> She shakes her head. "Most of the old-timers were hardier, but the Captain didn't like that because it meant they weren't totally reliant on him, so he got rid of most of them over the years."
<Franceska> "And where do we go from the rogue general to this captain and Jill Cook?"
<El-Cideon> "Is that what brought you here?" she asks with evident curiosity. "You must have come quite a long way just to cause trouble. Most of our visitors are just here for the portal."
<Franceska> "We came from Solata, so that would be a yes."
<El-Cideon> "Ah, the old country," Anton says with a trace of wistfulness.
<Julia> "Yes, what we know is that Jill suffered some kind of betrayal here and now she's training devils in Hell. We're tracking down all the members of her old group you see," Julia explains.
<El-Cideon> Anna is visibly taken aback by this news. "She is...what?" She shakes her head. "That is an awful shame. She and her friends were the only good thing to happen to Ashpile." Anton adds in: "'til today, at least."
<Franceska> "You would need some leverage to bring her back. Or, at least, an understanding of how she came to work for Baator. Thus, we came here."
<Julia> "We don't know if it's voluntary or if the cornugon has some sort of hold over her," Julia offers consolingly. "But yes, we're trying to understand the circumstances before we go to hell itself, and that's why we're here."
<El-Cideon> Anna nods. "The betrayal spoken of would be the Captain's," she explains. "We do not know every detail of the affair. I was just a girl at the time and Anton, well, Anton was a recruit." The tiefling's face darkens visibly at this disclosure. "Jill and the others came hunting General Creel. Once he was dead, Jill thought she'd stay here and try to rehabilitate the survivors--the younger ones, trained by the general but not necessarily converted." She sighs. "Some of them did not wish to be rehabilitated."
<Julia> "Enjoyed what they had going, did they?" Julia glances back at the barracks and what lies within.
<Franceska> "And they ended up converting her right back?"
<El-Cideon> "I cannot precisely speak to their motivations. Command is an intoxicant of a sort and I suspect the Captain couldn't do without it," she speculates. "We do know that the Captain traded her off to a devil, without whose assistance they would've been unlikely to subdue her on their own. I do not know the identity of this devil, but as the Captain left an imp here to monitor...'production'...when he took up residence in Brass, I think it safe to say their dreadful partnership persists."
<Franceska> "Just how many people are there here, anyway?"
<Julia> "Stephanie killed the imp earlier on, I think that's what caused this whole gathering," Julia says helpfully.
<El-Cideon> "A lot less now," Anton says cheerily. Anna gives him a disapproving look. "Some few dozen," she adds. "Most work simple trades. The older ones, well, it pleases the Burning Hand to let them sweep the streets. The buildings would all be subsumed in time if no one did so."
<Franceska> "Why not just send them off to Prime, then?"
<El-Cideon> Anna shakes her head. "We thought this monster dead once and it rose again. This time I have made other plans. The poison of authority is in these people, the younger ones in particular, and I am not convinced it may be drawn in any mortal world." Anton frowns. "Anna, we talked about this--" She cuts him off. "They're going to Elysium, Anton. They're ALL going to Elysium."
<Julia> "Can we actually get them all to a portal - besides the negative energy one - without everyone burning to death?"
<Franceska> "Unless burning them to death is your plan to get them to Elysium?"
<El-Cideon> "I'll ferry them there myself if need be. It's within my power to do so, though it will take time and coordination." Anton points a clawed finger at her. "Right, so they can all be happy little drones forever. You know they won't be able to leave again!" Anna snaps back: "That's it exactly. You go on and tell these people they don't get an eternity of peace and plenty after all they've been through. And the young recruits, tell me you want them roaming the planes and starting this all over again. Do you know what I was doing while you were busy killing people? I was cultivating contacts and making arrangements for everyone to be taken care of after the inevitable slaughter, because I knew YOU wouldn't bother thinking how to clean up the mess you'd made. So don't presume to second-guess me when you haven't any plans of your own. Outside of everyone choosing to play the perpetual rogue like yourself, of course."
<Franceska> "It sounds like a plan, then. You'll take care of everyone here, Anna, while you will come with us to take care of the captain, Anton?"
<El-Cideon> "Sure," he says, choosing not to acknowledge Anna's diatribe and stiffly avoiding returning her gaze. "Job's not done yet, after all. Captain's got companies chartered out on other worlds. I mean to track down every last one of them and put 'em all out of business. He'll have records of it all, I'm sure."
<Franceska> "Nice devotion. Just why is it so important to you?"
<Julia> "Says the girl who's going all across the planes to help her friend get a mace back," Julia notes innocently.
<El-Cideon> He doesn't answer the question. "You know...you know, it's a funny thing, two people asking about Jill in a couple months, after all these years. What's your business with her lot, anyway?"
<Franceska> "At least my reason is simple enough," Franceska says with a sniff. "Now then, this is far more interesting. Someone else was asking about her recently?"
<Julia> "One of them stole a holy weapon from our friend Rosemund's church. We need to recover it to restore her good name, so we're tracking down her old allies to try and figure out where she might be... I think?" Julia says, "It's been a while and I sometimes lose track."
* Franceska sighs. "Rosemund insists on rescuing them all, too."
<El-Cideon> "Sure," he says. "Didn't meet her myself, the L-T told her something got her packing before she could figure out what was what in Ashpile. Strange lady, from what I hear? Fire for hair, didn't wear much, cloud of lamps following her around?" He glances to Anna for confirmation. "Archons. Very curious." Anton nods. "Shame I didn't meet her, company like that I figure she might've helped if we'd had a chance to talk. Thing is though, just asking about the old times, well, it sorta made me figure time was right for things I'd been planning a long time, you know?"
<El-Cideon> "A strange hobby for these heroes to be stealing holy artifacts, isn't it?" Anna adds in for her part.
<Franceska> "Very strange."
<Julia> "Something to do with reliving the glory days. I'm sure it's for a good cause but that's not the point, the point is Rosemund got in trouble for it and until we get it back she's... I forget, what exactly is the church doing to sanction her?" she asks Franceska.
<El-Cideon> "I wish you luck in finding them," she says. "I may say Jill at the least doesn't deserve her present state of condemnation. I'd be pleased to help, but it's my present duty to see to the citizens of Ashpile. Of course, if you want to know more about what their business was, Anton would have a unique perspective." The tiefling casts her another vicious glare.
<Franceska> "I don't think the church will actually do anything," Franceska muses, "but you know how Rosemund is. She doesn't want to just give up." She shrugs, and then says, "Yes, I would like to know more about that business."
<El-Cideon> "I just know more than I'd like about the men they were trying to kill," he insists. "Dunno if that matters to your plans or not." He sounds like he hopes it doesn't.
<Franceska> "Knowing more is better than the alternative, and we already learned enough to disgust us by now. There is literally no point in stopping here."
<Julia> "Just spare us any of the grisly details, please," Julia adds, not really wanting to hear about the mistreatment of women that occurs here.
<El-Cideon> "Well, General Creel's dead, and I spit on his grave. No sense wasting more words on him. But BEFORE I was handed over to his fascist youth brigade for being a failure of eugenics, I spent my first few years in Tetrarchus's castle." All of this tumbles out in a rush so he doesn't have to think about it more than necessary. "He was this lich from the old country, these fiendish collaborators all seemed to know each other."
<Julia> "Was? So he's dead?" Julia asks. That puts a crimp in her plans for immortality if even liches can die! Maybe she should become a vampire instead?
* Franceska wonders how true is that, if her own name wasn't recognized.
<El-Cideon> "Hope so. Jill's friends, they were heading for him next." He nods south a ways, to the portal. "And may the twisted old sod rot in Hell if they got him."
<Julia> "Wait, oh yes, I remember. I think Marcus mentioned him? He's dead, yes," Julia recalls.
<Julia> She'll just have to do a better job of hiding her phylactery when she makes one.
<El-Cideon> He smiles grimly. "Good thing. All the worlds are better off without his sort around. Castle was an awful place. Not awful like Ashpile, which is just awful because people were doing terrible things here, although there was that too, just imagine for a minute having a zombie for a nanny and what THAT does to a brat, or you know better don't...but awful because it's just not...right." He gestures with his hands, searching for the right words. "It's all metal, like quicksilver, and it hurts your eyes to look down some of the passages. Or it hurt mine, at least, maybe that's why he got rid of me." He shrugs. "Dumped a lot of his failed experiments into Creel's company, I gather."
<Julia> "Obviously I'm not a lifist," Julia says, "But I'd much rather have my parents than a zombie caregiver. If it was an intelligent undead it wouldn't be a problem, but zombies are too stupid to look after a cat nevermind a child." Suddenly she remembers that they've been here long enough for her preservation spell on her own zombie to run out. "Oh, that reminds me. Friday will be starting to
<Julia> rot now. Poor Thing, he'll have to put up with the smell."
<El-Cideon> This earns Julia a couple curious looks. "Yes, well..." Anton runs a hand through his hair. "This is a long way of saying, if you're looking to free Jill and whoever else is with her, she deserves it for taking monsters like that out of the world. I wish you luck, but I've got business of my own. Will help you as far as Brass, at least."
<El-Cideon> "About that," Anna adds. "I don't imagine you have a plan this time?"
<Franceska> "Plans sound good on paper, I'll admit that. But in practice, they're an excuse to wait while things you don't like keep on taking place. Besides, we've learned that we don't like most things we come across while traveling the planes."
<Julia> "Well, after we deliver our letter I suppose we can find the captain and if he's on his own then Stephanie and Anton can probably just assassinate him, and if he has an army we can all chip in to kill them all?"
<Franceska> "Oh, certainly. The letter comes first."
<El-Cideon> "I'll only advise you that as far as Brass is concerned, he's an upstanding citizen," Anna says. "Even devils may walk the streets of Brass with impunity so long as they behave themselves. So recognize that it is within Captain Dalton's local rights to call upon the forces of law if he's attacked openly. Either do so carefully, or plan on never returning to the city."
<El-Cideon> Anton shrugs. "Plan A sounds good to me," he says with a nod to Julia.
<Julia> "I suppose if we have to we could find some way to lure him out, but if we can just cut his head off in his sleep with no one knowing till we're gone, so much the better."
<El-Cideon> In this case Anna demonstrates no compunction against flagrant butchery, and merely nods.
<El-Cideon> ~