037: All my friends are skeletons

[Sierra]

<El-Cideon> While Franceska and Julia chat up their fellow liberators, Stephanie and Rosemund break into the women's barracks to free the Burning Hand's numerous local victims. It's a low building on the edge of town behind the barracks proper, and much of its extent proves to be subterranean. Most of the inhabitants are confined to single-room cells, along with a nursery for those children too young yet to wield a sword--it is obviously not much of a life to speak of and those imprisoned are tearful with thanks before rushing out into the town proper to view firsthand the downfall of their captors and reunite with whatever is left of their families. All of this is evident to those still in the town square as an enthusiastic clamor about the town around them.
<El-Cideon> Halja, the ghoul merchant, makes her way towards those talking in the town square. "Quite a mess you all made," she observes of the bodies all around the street. "I wonder who's going to clean them all up?" Her laugh is an awful dry rattle in the back of her throat. "Well, I suppose I might."
<Steph> "Chalk up another one," says Stephanie, tapping her fist against Rosemund's armor. "I think we're getting the hang of this. Now comes the hard part, though."
<Julia> "I don't know if your belly's big enough but I'm sure you could give it a good try," Julia agrees, looking up at the newly liberated women flooding into the square. "Ahh, that makes all the death and carnage worthwhile, wouldn't you say, Franceska?"
<El-Cideon> "The hard part?" Rosemund echoes.
<El-Cideon> Halja nods to one of her hulking skeletal guards. "Well, that wasn't *entirely* what I had in mind."
<Steph> "Well, what's next? Who's gonna take care of these people?" replies Stephanie. "They certainly can't take care of themselves. Someone's gonna have to step up, because this world is just nasty."
<El-Cideon> Rosemund frowns. "Well, I suppose that is why Jill stayed here the last time someone needed to liberate this town..."
<Julia> "Mmm, are they actually any better than very weak men?" Julia asks, giving a skeleton a dubious once over and comparing it to Esgara.
<El-Cideon> She shrugs. "In numbers, they have their uses. Moreso than they had in life, to be sure!"
<Franceska> "Hmm? What was it?" Franceska asks, shaking herself. "Sorry, I was thinking."
<Julia> "Anything particularly scintillating?"
<Steph> "Yeah, and that worked out so well for her," muses Stephanie. "How long would it take you to take 'em all back to Amaranth?"
<Franceska> "Yes, actually. If that mage is going to take everyone to Elysium, who will actually remain to hold all this property?"
<El-Cideon> Rosemund starts walking back around the barracks to the rest of the group. "Well, let me see...I can bring a handful of people each trip--oh, but I cannot be sure precisely where we will emerge on the other side, so allowing time to walk them back to civilization...ah, some time, I would imagine..."
* Julia shrugs, and then slowly turns back to regard Halja. "Who indeed?" There doesn't seem to be anyone else particularly notable around.
<Franceska> "There would certainly be enough skeletons to hold it against anyone trying to set themselves up," Franceska muses, regarding Halja herself.
<Steph> "Yeah, thought so," mutters Stephanie. "I just can't imagine trying to hold on to this hellhole, though, and it's a joke to think the church or anyone back home would be interested in propping it up... is it? The only thing of value here is the portal. Who'd want that?" She shrugs, and starts to head over to the others.
<El-Cideon> "As a matter of course, I'd expect the captain to reinforce this little heap once he finds out what happened here. You know the men of the company consider it something of a landmark, since they founded their group here? Well, unless someone kills the captain, of course." Halja shrugs, sounding as though she doesn't care one way or another.
<Steph> "We're talking about killing the captain?" chimes in Stephanie.
<Julia> "Yes, he's in Brass and we're going there anyway, so we may as well," Julia nods.
<Franceska> "I'm certain that whoever ends up killing the poor unlamented captain, there would be no proof that it was one of us."
<El-Cideon> "Doing it myself with or without you," Anton adds, hands resting on the pommels of his weapons. "Of course, I'd be glad for the help."
<Franceska> "Yes! See? Anton will be the likeliest suspect."
<Steph> "That's your name?" asks Stephanie, peering curiously at him. "Uh, hi, Anton! I'm Steph!"
<Steph> "We met already, but it's like meeting again!" she rushes to clarify. "Because, um, yeah, you totally had me fooled before," she admits. "That's professionally shameful."
<Franceska> "And since we shall be leaving soon," Franceska says, coming up closer to Halja, whatever the smell might be, "would it be too much to hope that your investigation had born fruit?"
<El-Cideon> He sketches a bow. "Anton Levesque, pleased to meet you. Don't take it to hard--of necessity I made it my business to play the fool here."
<Steph> "That's my business, too! Well, that's my business aside from the silk business," replies Stephanie. "Actually, I thought you'd be staying here, but I guess if we go take on the Captain we don't need to worry much about reprisals?..." She frowns. "But this plane is such a nasty place, won't some other tinpot tyrant show up here down the line?"
<El-Cideon> Halja shakes her head. "I'll need time. It might feel like home for my kind on the other side, but it's just as difficult for us to find our way in the blackness as it would be for you. I will need to find your quarry's retreat--through bribery or divination or whatever other means--and then prepare for you a guide. Sort of a homing pigeon, a mindless undead calibrated to return to that one spot. This is easily accomplished for familiar locations like Dead Heart, but for a missing queen who doesn't wish to be found, I will require some weeks at the least."
<El-Cideon> "No one is staying here," Anna points out to Stephanie. Then, amending with a distasteful glance at Halja: "No one living is staying here."
<Steph> "Oh! That's great! What's happening?"
<El-Cideon> Anton shakes his head as well. "Only thing I'm leaving behind here is bad memories. Well, and the corpses."
<Franceska> "Then that just means we will have to make another stop on our way back, then. Or... actually, how far would the City of Brass be from here?"
<El-Cideon> "Couple weeks," Anton estimates. "Shouldn't be much trouble. Roads around Brass are kept pretty safe."
<Franceska> "On a direct line," Franceska clarifies. "Is it in Teleport range?"
<El-Cideon> "It is for me," Anna says. "If that's what you're asking for. Perhaps better you deal with the Captain before any word of today's events could possibly reach Brass."
<Steph> "Does he have, uh, an actual name? And what is he?"
* Franceska tilts her head. "Well, if you could take us to the general area it would certainly help."
<El-Cideon> Halja adds in: "I can notify you by Sending when ready. Assuming you don't object to my voice in your head, that is."
<Julia> "No, it's fine," Julia assures her. There's no smell that way.
<El-Cideon> "Outside the city," Anna concludes. "The Sultan's staff like to know who enters and leaves their city, and they wouldn't take kindly to visitors simply appearing on the street. You'll have to give me 'til tomorrow, though. I haven't the spell ready today."
<Franceska> "Oh, certainly. We planned on spending the night here anyway, so we might as well."
<Steph> "That's fine. We still probably need to go hunt down and of the soldiers who ran," muses Stephanie. "And you guys blew a bunch of spells, so we should rest up before we go the big city looking for trouble."
<El-Cideon> Anton replies to Stephanie: "Dalton. And what he is is hellbound. Oh, sure, he's human right now, but that's just a temporary detail."
<Steph> "'slong as he's not gonna bust out the dragon breath or the succubus wings on us!"
<El-Cideon> "Cutting's more the company's style," Anton says.
<El-Cideon> Anna nods. "If you'd all assist me in rounding up the soldiers that survived?" she agrees. "They shouldn't be much trouble without an officer to lead them, but we can hardly leave them free."
<Steph> "Alive or dead?"
<Julia> "Well, they can't have left the town without burning up, can they?" Julia says, looking around for any upright men in uniform.
<El-Cideon> "Alive if they don't resist," Anna concludes, over Anton's eager assertion that dead would be so much more convenient for everybody. "I'll see to it myself that any survivors live to regret their past allegiance, but I find my pity somewhat strained right now, so if anyone should give you trouble..." She shrugs.
<El-Cideon> The only soldiers Julia sees here are corpses.
<El-Cideon> No more than a handful of the Burning Hand recruits lived to run off into the town, and given their lack of ability to flee further, very few put up any kind of struggle. Most drop their weapons, and a couple had in fact already been butchered by townsfolk emboldened by the party's example. The few survivors are tied up securely for whatever Anna has in mind later. Night passes, such as it does on Fire, and the group collects again fully rested. "If you require any charms to protect you against the plane, I suggest you prepare them now just in case," Anna advises. "And if you mean to bring...*that* with you--" she gestures towards un-Esgara, "--I will require two trips. I do have just enough spells for this, assuming no failures."
* Franceska does just so happen to have the spells to cover all of them, along with Anton and even the creepy undead.
<Julia> "Oh no," Julia looks in despair at the possibility of losing her new shiny skele-snake. "It's not... too much trouble, is it?" she asks meekly.
<Steph> "They're not gonna stop us at the gate, are they? They're antsy about this kinda thing back home."
<El-Cideon> "Considering the service you've already performed for us, I suppose it is not," Anna allows. To Stephanie: "I doubt it, but one might hope Esgara had no friends or relatives you might encounter."
<Steph> "Hah! They're not gonna recognize him looking like that!"
<Franceska> "...can they?"
<Steph> "For their sake, they better not."
<Julia> "I doubt they've ever seen his skeleton before," Julia says, doubting it.
<El-Cideon> "Perhaps not," she admits. "Alright, three of you first, the rest on the second trip." She picks out Franceska, Rosemund and Anton. "Join hands, please."
* Franceska shudders. "Not a day goes by without a reminder that these things are inside us," she mutters, holding Rosemund's hand.
<El-Cideon> roll 1d100 miss chance
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 1d100 miss chance and gets 9."12 [1d100=9]
<El-Cideon> In a blink, the selected party stands upon a plain of cracked obsidian. Looming above, hovering in the air over the plain, is a great metal bowl bristling with towers and minarets, massive beyond reckoning by the familiar scale of human cities. A long ramp winds up towards the city, minded by a squadron of crimson-skinned humanoids and fire elementals. Rosemund cranes her neck up and breathes a little, "Wow."
<El-Cideon> "One moment, please," Anna says as she blinks out again.
<El-Cideon> roll 1d100
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 1d100 and gets 80."12 [1d100=80]
<Franceska> "Oh my."
<El-Cideon> "Now the rest of you," she says as she reappears in Ashpile. Anna pointedly positions herself between Julia and Stephanie for this trip.
* Julia takes Anna's hand and Esgara's. "Take Stephanie's hand, Esgara. Gently," she orders the skeleton.
<El-Cideon> "It's big," Anton allows, unimpressed, "but that just means there's all the more room for wickedness."
<El-Cideon> roll 1d100 party 2!
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 1d100 party 2! and gets 12."12 [1d100=12]
<Steph> "You're lucky I've handled corpses before," mutters Stephanie.
<El-Cideon> And without warning the rest of Franceska's friends--living, dead, and between--join her on the obsidian plain. "Good," Anna says. "Now remember: Brass is apt to consider Captain Dalton an upstanding citizen. He is wealthy, after all, and there are few other requirements here. I advise against attacking him where others might see and come to his aid. It won't be so simple as Ashpile."
<Franceska> "Yes, I can certainly see how it would be inadviseable," Franceska agrees. "Tell me, do you know if the City of Brass restricts dimensional travel out of it?"
* Julia doesn't reply, distracted by looking at the gigantic city looming above.
<Steph> "How wealthy?" asks Stephanie, nervously.
<El-Cideon> "Out of it?" Anna echoes. "Not that I know of."
<Franceska> "Oh, this is good news! Even if Stephanie makes a mistake, we could leave before all the guards try to do their duty."
<El-Cideon> "Suspect he'll have a mansion, private guard," Anton shrugs. "Just because he's rich doesn't make him less a scumbag."
<Franceska> "Well then. Let us go and deliver that letter we have, first thing?"
<Steph> "Guard nothing, it's the wacky magical defenses that'll worry me. Guy like this probably has a mage on staff somewhere."
<Steph> "Oh! Oh, yes!"
<El-Cideon> "Light bless you all," Anna says in parting. "And farewell. Next time you see Ashpile it should be a town of the dead. Literally if Halja has her way." With an awkward bow, the wizard blinks out of sight for the last time.
<El-Cideon> roll 1d100
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 1d100 and gets 32."12 [1d100=32]
<Steph> "We're not going to see Ashpile again, right?" asks Stephanie, once she's gone.
<El-Cideon> "*I'm* not," Anton says affirmatively.
<Julia> "Well, Halja might help us find Queen Auranelle..." Julia says as she tears her gaze off the city.
<El-Cideon> "I would not mind if we never came here again," Rosemund avows. "Aside from the constant unpleasantness we have witnessed since arriving at Ashpile...I can hardly even sleep here! I thought it was bad when we were on Earth and there was no light, but here there is just too much!"
<Franceska> "It would still be a few weeks until she is ready, so either we conclude our business here and walk back, or we plane shift home and just wait a while before returning and teleporting over," Franceska muses. "Rosemund is right, of course, in how the planes are all horrible."
<Steph> "Nah, we haven't gone through all the good ones yet! Ysgard, Elysium, Arcadia, Celestia... and I hear in the plane of air, everyone can fly!"
<Julia> "One day we'll find a nice one and never want to leave," Julia predicts confidently.
<El-Cideon> "They're not all bad," Anton counters, walking towards the ramp. "I found Ysgard quite a lark, myself."
<El-Cideon> "Well there's that, too," he adds, "Elysium's SO nice it convinces you never want to leave."
<Julia> "Well, that's a bit too pushy I think," Julia decides.
<Steph> "Oh, yeah. That's kinda creepy. Let's not go there."
<El-Cideon> "But that is where Pelor makes his home!" Rosemund protests. "It cannot be so unpleasant. If you are going to be in one place for the rest of your life, would there be a better choice?"
<Franceska> "Yes."
<El-Cideon> Rosemund frowns at Franceska.
<Franceska> "I will agree that Air sounds interesting, although there are certainly murderous bands of mercenaries on it. Still, hardly unique."
<Steph> "W-well, we're not gonna be in one place for the rest of our lives! I'll be there when I'm dead," replies Stephanie, rubbing her hair.
* Franceska shudders. "Then, there is Astral. Even if you want to leave, you are already dead."
<El-Cideon> "That's the spirit," Anton agrees. "Plenty of time for heaven AFTER we're dead, right?"
<Franceska> "Talk like that is what leads some people to explore immortality," Franceska mutters, heading towards the gates.
* Julia whistles nonchalantly as she follows Franceska.
<Steph> "Nah, people who look for immortality are just too scared to grow up," replies Stephanie, with a derisive snort.
* Julia glares at the back of Stephanie's head.
<El-Cideon> An efreeti guard at the gate, red-skinned and towering over any human height, looks over your group and addresses you in fluid common. "Your business in Brass, outsiders?"
<Franceska> "Delivering a letter to one Miss Haverbrook," Franceska responds crisply.
<El-Cideon> He nods apathetically at this utterly mundane task and waves you on through. Striding up and up the ramp that winds towards the city proper takes you up to a vertiginous height above the plane proper--and once you're within the walls of Brass, the oppressive heat of Fire subsides a little. It is now more like an Amaranth afternoon in late summer than like standing directly outside a furnace all the day long. (more)
<El-Cideon> Your surroundings immediately upon entering the city are a riot of diversity--all manner of humans, dwarves, and elves mingle here with the native efreet and elementals, hawkers cry their wares in a bewildering array of accents in both common and Ignan, and spindly metal towers loom on all corners of the plaza. "This is the Avencina," Anton says. "Common goods for commoners, mostly. Cheap lodging here if we need it."
<Franceska> "How about finding a place to stay, then?" Franceska suggests. "You could try to find more about the captain, while we deliver our letter and then meet up again."
<Julia> "I'm sure we can get a nicer place though, can't we?" Julia asks. "It might even make us seem like upstanding people!"
<Steph> "Sure. The skeleton shares with you, right?"
* Franceska gives a pointed look at the walking corpse, though it turns contemplating after. "Would we be more or less likely to be noticed while staying in better lodgings?"
<Franceska> At Stephanie's question, she shows a sudden look of alarm and quickly adds, "I'm sharing a room with Rosemund, of course."
<Julia> "We'll see who's laughing when my skeleton foils an assassination attempt and you all die in your sleep," Julia snipes back.
<El-Cideon> "Depends. Do we want to noticed?" Anton asks Franceska. "Are we *expecting* assassination attempts? That sort of thing happen to you girls a lot?"
<Steph> "No, only our friends," replies Stephanie, now slightly morose.
<El-Cideon> "She got better!" Rosemund protests.
<Julia> "I should start giving minions away to our friends to stop those things happening, actually," Julia decides.
<Steph> "Hey, Julia, can you make ghosts?" asks Stephanie, curiously. "Can we get more 'ethereal beauty' happening?"
<Franceska> "She had a minion but it never did help her," Franceska says sadly, before shaking her head. "And no, we neither want to be noticed or expect an attempt on our lives."
<Julia> "Not really. I can sort of indirectly make shadows, though?"
<Franceska> "Let's not, those can depopulate an entire city."
<Steph> Stephanie shudders. "Really? Has that actually happened?"
<El-Cideon> "Well, if you want to seem the proper sort of entrepreneur to move in the Captain's circles, I guess you could take lodging in the Arches," Anton says, adding with a grimace: "That's where the slave market stands. But if you want better company, we set up shop here. Where's this letter of yours going?"
<Franceska> "I just know what I read," Franceska responds primly. "And if some happen to infest our home town, I will be leaving shortly."
<Franceska> "The Foundry," she responds to Anton.
<Steph> "Way to look out for number one. I don't suppose you know a way to stop those things?"
<Julia> "We found the letter on a corpse in a desert on Arborea," Julia helpfully tells Anton. "And I can stop shadows! They're easily led."
* Franceska shakes her head. "I'm afraid not. My magic is ill-suited to deal with them."
<El-Cideon> He nods. "Decent odds that's where Dalton's set up. Fanciest lodgings humans can buy in this town."
* Franceska retrieves her wand. "In fact, that worry is the main reason I carry this, and taught myself to use it well."
<Steph> There are things bears can't kill; Stephanie must take note.
* Franceska coughs. "In this case, let us find fancy lodgings?"
<El-Cideon> "Right. I figure we shoot for the Pyraculum; it's up-market and fairly central." He weaves his way through the crowd and heads off through the city streets at a determined pace. Shambling common houses eventually give way to respectable craftmen's houses, the crowd adopts a more overwhelmingly native composition of efreeti, salamanders, and bronze-skinned azers. By a plaza centering on a merrily burbling fountain of magma, Anton stops. "This isn't a regular neighborhood for me, but I think we should be next door to the Foundry by this point...see anything you like?" Amongst the various tradesmen's shops ringing the plaza are some obvious boarding houses with names like The Plume, Red Scale Lodge, and the Crown.
<Franceska> "The Crown."
<Steph> "Do they make flaming swords cheap around here?" asks Stephanie, hopefully.
<El-Cideon> "Cheaper than anywhere else, I'd guess," Anton ventures.
<Julia> The crown sounds pretentious and is probably over-compensating for being horrible. "Red scale lodge."
<Steph> Stephanie flips a coin, and then nods. "The Lodge has it, girls."
<Franceska> "I suppose. Are we getting three rooms?"
<El-Cideon> Anton raises an eyebrow and glances at Steph. "Need someone to ward off assassins?"
<Steph> Stephanie looks at him, surprised, and bursts out laughing. "Oh, sure! Yes! Please watch over my vulnerable body all night long, handsome protector!"
<Franceska> "I will do my utmost to ensure no assassins come for us," Franceska tells Rosemund dryly.
<El-Cideon> He looks at Franceska, all seriousness. "Three rooms it is," he concludes.
<El-Cideon> The interior of the Red Scale Lodge is all of stone construction. The common room is sculpted to resemble a cavern; tabletops rest upon artificial stalagmites, torchholders are set in stalactites dangling from the ceiling. Upon the walls, paintings--primitive in style, but not without a degree of flair--depict great red dragons engaged in various plunderings and razings of Prime civilization. Tending bar is a humanoid woman of imposing height; scaled fins decorate her scalp instead of hair, and draconic wings are held close behind her.
<Steph> "Curse you, coin. You betrayed me!" mutters Stephanie, before dropping it back into her bag of holding, perhaps never to be seen again...
* Franceska admires the stalagmites for inspiration.
<Julia> "Oh, I'm sure it'd be fine," Julia admonishes, walking up to the draconic woman and asking, "Three rooms, please."
<El-Cideon> "Morning, strangers," the woman calls out in a gruff voice. "Three, is it?" She reaches under the counter and collects three room keys. "Two gold a night for each. How long you folks plan to stay?"
<Steph> "Not sure, but put us down for three days and we'll take it from there? And what kinda beds do these rooms have?"
<El-Cideon> "Well, I figured you lot would want featherbeds," she says. "Although I don't imagine your bony friend much cares what he gets. Anyway, the bed of gold coins is spoken for," she adds happily.
<Steph> "You have a bed. A bed of gold coins," says Stephanie, frowning. "How much did it cost?"
* Julia counts out eighteen gold coins and places them on the counter. "Yes, he won't be sleeping anyway," she agrees.
<El-Cideon> She just laughs, a raucous bark which almost hurts the ears.
<Franceska> "Is it physically comfortable?" Franceska feels obligated to inquire. "Or is it more the idea of sleeping on a bed of golden coins that makes all the difference?"
<El-Cideon> "Well it is nice and cool," she says, adding seriously: "But some things are tradition."
* Franceska nods in understanding.
<Steph> "Do couples ever use it?" asks Stephanie, grinning.
<El-Cideon> "If gossip's what you're looking for, you'd better order a drink."
<Steph> "Can do!"
<Franceska> "Since Stephanie is buying, please give me something local as well."
<Steph> "Get her a glass of milk, and me something strong?"
<El-Cideon> She raises an eyebrow at Franceska. "You know some folk drink lava hereabouts?"
<Steph> "But not that strong."
<Franceska> "I think we can do better than either milk or lava. How about something that would not hurt me?"
<El-Cideon> "Right, well, I've got some rum on hand for Prime visitors if that suits you. Plenty of Infernal grog about if you've got no plan to do anything useful with the rest of your day. Local drinks, well, might be you could take a Winter Sun? That's only *mostly* fire."
<Steph> Stephanie snorts. "I'll pass on funding hell's trade in exports. Rum'll do us both, I think."
<Julia> "Rum as well," Julia agrees.
<Franceska> "Rum it is," Franceska says at the same time.
<El-Cideon> "Four of those," Anton adds. Rosemund opts for water, which earns her a queer look from the proprietor. "Right, here you are. So what brings you lot to Brass?"
<Steph> "I'm hoping to pick up a cheap sword of flame! But we've got a letter to delivery as a courtesy," muses Stephanie.
<Franceska> "I don't suppose Miss Haverbrook is something of a local celebrity around here?"
<El-Cideon> She frowns, searches her memory. "Haverbrook, huh? I think she's got a business of some sort?" She snaps clawed fingers. "Yeah, I had a patron once was in town buying weapons from her or some such thing. Drove a mean bargain, sounded like."
<Franceska> "Oh, so both our goals might coincide? How delightfully efficient!"
<Steph> "Better drive it right back at her! Any other notable weaponsmiths in town?"
<El-Cideon> "Lots of 'em," she confirms. "Hardly a better place in the planes to run a forge, right? Owners here are Azer mostly--that's those little metal-lookin' fellows, if you're new to these parts, but a few of the emirs run their own production. Not too many of you human sorts in the business here, really. Anyway, most set up shop on the Street of Steel over by the wall."
~