Bik Britelite Posted March 15, 2006 Report Share Posted March 15, 2006 Okay, the GM has been bugging me to post this on the forums since I wrote them. Well, I have to or I die, at least thats what I think will happen if I don't. Anyway, I don't claim to be a writer, in fact I know I suck but hey, at least I'm trying, right? Oh, and somewhere in this forum is a post of my history. (Too lazy to find the link, but its under my name.) EDIT- Mordean added the post below, apparently the link went past page 3 and was zapped! Cast: Typhus: Me (Follower of Nehrull) FYI - We are trying an evil campaign this time. Ogdru: Ben - Necromancer and Alchemist Cadak: Darren - Wizard dealing with Clairsentience type powers Marv: John - Ogre fighter Christoph Undertaker - Lex (Its really Underhill) Aasimar blooded human looking for a demon Steelweaver - Taylor (Lex's 14 year old son) Human fighter type, uses dual short swords Background: Sigil, the crossroads of the planes. A sorry looking place if there ever was one. My first impression of the realm has not changed much since arriving here some 15 years ago. Although that figure could be off, as time does not work the same on each plane of existence. I can spend a day on one plane and only have been gone fifteen minutes here. But since I move at a certain pace, my best guess has my time at being 15 or so years. At first glance the city seems to have been constructed by drunken or mad architects, with buildings leaning to far in any one direction, certain to collapse yet somehow stay upright, mostly. Everywhere in this mad mans plane is a vine with small blade tipped shaped leaves, aptly named razor vine. The edge of the leaf is rather sharp and will easily cut exposed flesh. It would also appear that gate travel is not limited to sentient creatures, as dirt and grime from all regions and planes blows on the stale wind. There is even a foundry here that blows great pillars of ash high into the air, eventually this causes a warm, stinging rain to fall driving many of its inhabitants indoors. Like all cities, there are the poor and there are the rich. The poor wallowing in this planar feces, and the rich being carried above it all. So for 15 years, I carved my little niche into what has now become my home. I purchased a small comfortable hovel and frequent a tavern that is close by for contacts. Gathering contacts took a while, and it did involve removing some of the competition, but as my with previous realm my name became well known. Those that spoke my name too often or in a manner that would displease me were removed with poisons made from my own hands. In time, those that would seek me out to purchase my poisons knew to leave when business was completed. Now residing in Sigil, there was greater access to all new herbs, creatures and extracts that would enhance and alter existing poisons. Some of these items exist only on particular planes and for that I needed couriers that would do the traveling for me, especially if these realms were unsafe. Many couriers died before I became gifted with the ones I work with now. These couriers charge more, but reliability is worth every copper. Journal: Then one of my more “trusted†couriers became late, very late. After three days it was time to do something about retrieving my deposit and my product. Whether the hand that I ripped it from was dead or alive meant nothing. I hate to be inconvenienced, and those that cause me irritation are better left dead. I knew that the herb collected came from only one place and that would mean going to Ribcage, a gate town for devils. Since I knew about the Blood war and had no desire to be swept up in it, I decided to find some “help.†The term is used loosely, because although I do pay well for good work, I had no concern for their well being other than helping me to retrieve my product. So I decided that the tavern I frequented would be a good place to begin my search for the “help.†The Black Bird Tavern is a fairly new tavern, in that it has a new owner. It would appear that the previous owner had a small problem . . . breathing. The Black Bird is a standard tavern in every respect to all taverns except the clientèle is not shy about showing its horns to others. There are the quiet little dark corners for the nefarious to feel safe, the bright open spots in the middle of the room that let everyone know you are there. Several tieflings had to die before I was given due respect in this place and as such I knew most of the individuals that frequented the establishment. My hopes were rewarded when I saw the individuals I sought out. The biggest among them, Marv as he liked to be called, is an ogre. One that has a reputation as having fought in the Blood wars. If this was true, and unlikely as he was still alive, his axe and size would help my quest. Both in the bashing department and because I would look less a threat and thus he would most likely be the target of any would be attacker. The others seated with Marv, as they always were, was Ogdru, Cadak and his faithful hound, and Christoph. Ogdru is a know opium addict and thus easily controlled with his addiction. He is also a wizard or necromancer of some sort. His skills in the arcane arts would more than likely be needed. Cadak is known around the tavern as a seer and he is never without his faithful bodyguard Leon, a human meat shield. The ability to read objects and their history may allow me to find my courier easier and as such was also needed. The only one that I had any trepidation in taking was Christoph, a rather curious human. He is always the one talking when at the table, and it was Christoph that introduced himself to me the first day he arrived at the Black Bird. His obvious talent at not shutting up may help me bribe my way past some of the local militia that patrols Ribcage. Just as I was about to move forward to ask for their assistance Christoph noticed a young man sitting in the back of the Black Bird looking rather nervous. Guessing that he was new to Sigil and rather frightened of it all, he offered to buy him a bowl of what the Black Bird calls soup. His wary agreement and subsequent devouring of the gruel confirmed he was new to Sigil and probably arrived here days ago through some random gate. He was dressed like many people in the planes dress, the only distinguishing characteristic was the fact he wore two swords on his belt and those weapons seemed to be an extension of him, rather than some clumsy tool to hack people apart with. Uninvited I walked over to their table and sat down. Christoph was the first to say anything and that was a simple, “Yes?†Amazing how they can shut up at the oddest of times. I told them that I was looking for some assistance in recovering some lost merchandise. Instead of asking how much, they asked what the merchandise was. This told me they were smart enough to rate their services based on what the merchandise was that needed to be recovered and they weren’t greedy by asking how much. I informed them that what I needed was a rare herb that was usually brought to me by a reliable courier. Since he was late, I must assume that he was dead, because he knows I do not abide tardiness. So my offer to them was, if you helped me recover the herbs, then I would pay you a percentage of the job when its finished. They agreed, which told me that they were in fact, not as bright as I had originally thought. We never agreed on a percentage and they never asked when the job would be done. Luckily for them the job would be done as soon as I got the herbs. As we stood to leave, the young man who introduced himself as Steelweaver, asked if he could go along with us as he needed some coin. Since Marv was the only one that looked capable in a fight besides me, I agreed if the others agreed. Since Christoph seemed to speak for the table he also agreed and so we left the Black Bird for the trek across the Hive, Lower Ward and eventually ending up near the Foundry. The gate we needed to find was known to both me and Cadak, and as such we knew to bring along enough fragments of bone so that everyone had a key to activate the gate and pass through to Ribcage. The gate itself was a simple stone archway in the middle of an alley that had an iron gate. One of the gates was rusted shut, the other was open just wide enough for someone of Marv’s size to squeeze through. Cadak touched the stone around the gate and was able to see back in time to when my courier would have gone through to pick up the herb, but it never showed him returning through the gate. Cadak channeled the vision into a crystal ball he kept so that we all could view the events of the gate. Admittedly his ability to see in the past is extremely useful. If it was known that someone was doing this, false leads could be laid I imagine, but according to Cadak he can read surface thoughts of those he sees in the past and this would make that difficult. I will have to pocket that information for later use as I am wary of such power in the hands of man that would work with the likes of me. Deciding that my courier was probably still on Ba’ator we used small bone fragments to activate the gate and passed through to Ribcage. Ribcage itself is a very large departure from Sigil. The air was cleaner, yet a constant drab grey in color. There is a dark time here and I imagine being outside the confines of the city proper would make for an interesting evening, one that I had no desire to experience. While we looked around at the surroundings, Cadak began looking through the past from this side of the gate. After a time he noted that my courier had in fact not come back through. So using Cadak’s abilities we were able to backtrack his path onto a road that led out of the city. Along the way we discovered what had happened to him, the same thing that happens to travelers on this road that appear to carry any goods. It would appear that either the Blood war is beginning to take its toll on the purse strings of the devils, or someone is not only greedy but arrogant. To attempt to harass trade traffic so near a major thoroughfare on this plane is risky, unless you are one of the devils in power. An interesting dilemma for me now, open confrontation with an unknown power is one of the quicker ways to meeting your maker. The answer was still the same, they had stole from me, and as such, I was the unknown power to them. I wanted my goods back and I was willing to kill to get it. The question became, how to flush out our would be thieves so that I could retrieve my goods. The decision was to gather what appeared to be goods in a cart and head out on the road. For this we had Marv put his muscles to use and pull a cart carrying a few empty crates and some sacks of feed. About a mile outside of Ribcage they appeared. There was three well armored individuals flanked on either side by two planar beastmen types. They announced themselves as the Outlands Cabal, and that a toll was to be paid. If the toll was not paid for in cash, then goods would be taken in its place. For the first time that day, I smiled. I had walked farther that day than I could care to remember, I was tired, exhausted, and just plain angry, but I was finally able to put a face to the irritation. Stepping forward I told the leader that goods that were not his to take had been taken from my courier. Goods taken from my courier was goods taken from me and that I wanted them back. The answer surprised me because it was to business like. Formal protests could be made and with the protest payment would release the goods. The absolute shock of the statement drove me into a such a furious rage that I didn’t care what happened next, so I told Marv to start killing and proceeded towards the leader while reciting my prayer to Nehrull. For what seemed like forever this planar man, and his two henchmen and I fought to a standstill while my men dispatched the other four. During the battle a wizard that had remained hidden began a duel with Ogdru, Cadak and his meat puppet. When they realized that there was no hope of winning, the leader and those left standing teleported away. The wounds that I had suffered were grievous but superficial as Nehrull allows the cuts to happen, to reshape me into his wishes. Nehrull also allowed them to reheal in a short amount of time. But I did become extremely weak for a few minutes while my body repaired itself. During this time Cadak had removed the head of one of the beastmen and was conversing with its soul before the final departure to whatever hell it belonged in. Ogdru managed to raise one of the foul creatures to use as his own Leon, but at half the cost, since it would never need to eat, sleep or complain about pay. After a few minutes Cadak gave me the name of my combatant, the leader was called Lothar, and was the lapdog to someone named Gr’Nash. Early suspicions were correct as Gr’Nash was in fact the guard captain of the west barracks in Ribcage. Corruption is most foul when money is at the root. Now we had to return to Ribcage and find where the goods were being kept, break in and snatch them back up. Suddenly Christoph was important again, as his sweet words would be needed to pry the information from the heads of the local guards patrols. For a few hours while the rest of us waited in a local tavern, Steelweaver and Christoph went looking for possible hideouts. As it turns out, Marv is easily controllable as long as he has liquor to sate his growing thirst. Steelweaver also happens to be rather good at climbing and taking things that do not belong to him, a good scapegoat he may yet make. When Steelweaver and Christoph returned the news was grim. All the barracks are near warehouses, and the loot could be in any of them, or worse yet scattered amongst all of them. To this dilemma Ogdru had a solution, his newly made zombie could take them to where they kept the loot. The limitation to this is that the zombie is rather dim-witted in its new state and may easily get lost or unable to find the location altogether. Since time was a factor, I was willing to try it anyway. So our group followed after the new zombie, and thankfully it was rather slow at walking and making the trek much easier for me. Keeping up with Marv could be a problem, the others were difficult enough but for once, this trek was made at my pace. The creature took us to a warehouse not to far from the main street leading from the gate and stopped outside. Searching for traps and with Steelweaver climbing to the roof acting as a lookout we broke in. The trap unfortunately was a giant eye that watched who came into the warehouse. The eye was similar to one I saw right before we were accosted on the road outside of ribcage by this cabal. Knowing that our presence was being reported I stepped into the warehouse, looked directly at the eye and then began searching for my lost satchel with the herb in it. Christoph and Marv helped in that task, while Ogdru retrieved his wayward zombie, and Cadak merely watched from outside the warehouse, afraid of being seen. Several frantic searches by me turned up nothing but some scrolls which I discarded. Marv and Christoph pocketed a few things and as Steelweaver yelled that guards were coming, Christoph found the satchel. Now that I had what I wanted the rest of the group meant nothing to me. Grabbing the satchel from Christoph’s hands I yelled for everyone to run. Marv, the obedient little soldier that he is, did. Easily making the run to the gate before many of us made it to the main street. I stopped in front of the eye, holding the satchel out so that it could see what I had taken and told who ever was listening that I took back what was not theirs and to never irritate me again. With that said, I turned and head out the door. Many people, creatures and what not were moving about the street and made the distance to the gate longer than it should, so with Nehrull’s blessing spoken on the winds, I shoved my way through the crowd with ease. Some of the guards came close to catching a few of us, but the confusion of so many people in the street, coupled with our group being so spread apart made catching any one of us impossible. Even the zombie made it to the gate with relative ease. With the herbs now in my possession I left the group at the gate and headed home to begin the finalization of the poison which was almost due for delivery. For many more hours I labored over the poison and the red striped bariar who purchased the poison was very pleased at its completion. Three days after returning from Ribcage I went to the Black Bird Tavern to pay the members of the group as I had promised. The two gold I gave them gave them all pause. I doubt any of them save Cadak and Ogdru were even smart enough to realize how much I was paid, if I was giving them two gold a piece. Even Ogdru probably couldn’t figure that out as his addiction has probably destroyed much of his intelligence. Steelweaver was the most impressed as I doubt he had ever seen that much money at once. But with that payment, I learned all I needed to know, as long as I provided them with gold they would jump when I told them to jump and jump where I told them to jump. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Bik Britelite Posted March 15, 2006 Author Report Share Posted March 15, 2006 Re: [sigil Campaign] The Journal of Typhus The days in Sigil seem to go by at a dull dragging pace when there are no jobs or potions to brew. Most of this time is spent watching Ogdru use my lab with watchful eyes. Only he is allowed inside to brew his concoctions, and even though I receive half as payment I am still wary of allowing an opium addict into my laboratory. The real advantage is the fact that the potions he brews do in fact work, and as such always manage to sell, especially here in Sigil where fights breakout constantly between ever hateful factions. To this I have been building up a stockpile of the healing potables that Ogdru makes and when enough has been gathered I will flood the market with “enhanced†versions. These versions are laced with a narcotic that is undetectable in taste and still as addictive as the very opium the original brewer needs. This will guarantee that my pots will always sell and eventually they may even allow me to introduce a new poison unto the populace of Sigil in Nehrulls name. One evening while waiting for a contact to hopefully show up at the Black Bird, Christoph and Steelweaver entered into the bar. Steelweaver appeared to be giving Christoph the evil eye and Christoph was either oblivious, which was probable, or uncaring of Steelweavers gaze. As Christoph noticed me and the rest of the usuals he motioned us all to one table. It would appear that Christoph and Steelweaver stumbled upon a plan that involved a heist. The names that they dropped caused my immediate attention. Apparently some of the local rat-men, which are in fact were-rats, were planning on jumping two couriers carrying a special book to Shemeshka. The knowledge that the head of the were-rats wanted books and information is widely known. The fact that he was willing to steal from Shemeshka meant he was stupid, despite having accumulated vast amounts of knowledge. Shemeshka was in fact one of the more powerful individuals in Sigil, the King of the Cross-Trade in Sigil. She is a yugoloth, a type of demon that is for lack of a better word, neutral. They do not involve themselves in the blood wars and if they do, its usually as a mercenary. But Shemeshka was widely known as an information gatherer and one of the people you didn’t get on the bad side of. She is very good at digging up all sorts of information on anything or anyone. She is someone that I needed as a contact and I am fairly certain that my services could be well used. The only information gathered was that the hit would happen here in Sigil in two nights when the couriers appeared through a gate. The real problem was figuring out which gate. There are thousands, if not hundreds of thousands of gates in Sigil. The decision was who did we want to work for, the rats by helping take the book? Or did we want to work for Shemeshka and protect her merchandise. The rats in my decision are not something you could bargain with or work for as they are mistrusted and for good reason. Shemeshka on the other hand is someone that is dealing with a business and for that reason alone would be someone that you could talk too. Christoph said that he would check it out, and since his silver tongue might arrange a meeting with her I let him leave and set up the arrangements. I was wary of allowing Christoph to leave and do such an important task for me but he could be removed if he caused any problems and the distance of him from me was enough that I would be safe if he screwed up somehow. Sometime before anti-peak Christoph returned to the Black Bird. Since he was still alive and didn’t run into the tavern like he was being chased I assumed all went well. He explained for several minutes about how he had wandered the ring of Sigil and had accomplished very little save finding a new tavern to drink at. I should have been mad, angry even. The fact was I allowed him to go on this errand and since he talked with no one except some lonely barkeep, my name was not tarnished. Because of this delay in my meeting with Shemeshka, I stood up as quickly as I could and staggered to the door on my way to the Fortunes Wheel. The walk was excruciating and slow but made with a purpose. If all went well, a new, influential, and very powerful contact would be made. The Fortunes Wheel was in fact a gamblers paradise, all manner of chance and luck were to be had. Many of the local fools gladly gave up their hard earned coin with a smile at the chance to increase their wealth, all the time loosing more coins than they would have won if fortune would smile on them just this once. Shaking my head I approached one of the guards and told them that I wished to see Shemeshka. Since I did not have an appointment, one was made for the following evening and with that done, I started the long and laborious task of walking home. I could have just stayed there and waited for the appointment, but the noise of the fools and their cries of despair at their luck would eventually cause me to start killing them. That was not something I imagine Shemeshka would appreciate and would also probably ruin my chance of making a new contact. The next evening came quickly enough as I poured over some new literature I had acquired on some newly discovered herbs. So once again I started the long and painful march to the Fortunes Wheel. Along the way I stopped off at the Black Bird and informed Marv that I would return when my meeting was done. Since Marv only moved from his stool when the Black Bird closed, I was sure the message would reach Steelweaver, Ogdru, Cadak, and Christoph. Once again I noticed when entering into the Fortunes Wheel the sounds were the same, the faces were different, and the cries of despair once again encouraged my ire. Shutting the sounds out, as that mood is not good for a first meeting with a powerful contact, I let one of the guards know that I was here for my appointment. The guard led me up to Shemeshkas room and upon entering I tossed the scythe to one of the guards posted outside her door. I found it odd that no one asked me for the weapon in the first place. Either they just hadn’t gotten around to asking or more than likely they were not worried about me injuring Shemeshka. That arrogance was noted and if I was going to be taken seriously then I would have to guarantee that my reputation would be well respected here. That, unfortunately, would have to wait for another time. The room itself was a rather over done office, with plush cushions, and fancy gilded objects scattered amongst the room. If it was an attempt at showing off then the attempt failed. Thankfully there was a chair opposite Shemeshkas desk and I greedily sat down relieving my legs of their burden. Shemeshka itself looked sort of like a bipedal dog, she even had a nice shiny coat and I bet her nose was even wet. Shemeshka is an information thief and as such immediately commented on my blessing of Nehrull as a most interesting gift. Sadly the helmet denied her seeing my smile, but my response that Nehrull gives many powerful gifts and mine was but a small one. A slight toothy grin announced the start of the meeting and her question of what information I had that she would be interested in finished all the pleasantries. Deciding to play along with the information thief and the odd code they loved to speak I mentioned that I understood that rare books were arriving in Sigil on the next evening. A small eyebrow arch signaled that the information was correct and even though she knew all about me she didn’t know how I knew. I let her know that information about a book arriving in Sigil was going to be removed from its couriers corpse and that I was willing to guarantee that the book still arrived in her hands. The news of the ambush was also something that she knew nothing of, and this displeased her. Since she was being most hospitable and the chair was extremely comfortable, I decided to continue the game rather than come right out and say who was behind the attack. I did let her know that she knew of the individual, the name was scurrying around in her head. The connection was made and Shemeshka instantly knew that I was willing to kill the were-rats and return her book. Since information is never free, she asked what I wanted in return for the guaranteed delivery of her book. Since the group is easily swayed by gold, money for my men would be sufficient. Again the toothy grin and Shemeshka asked, what about you? To this, I took off my helmet so she could see my eyes when I gave her my answer. Your business, I replied. You have a network that would greatly enhance my research, and my skills would greatly aid her agents. Shemeshka pondered over this but eventually she stood, and very gracefully moved around the table and extended her hand to me saying that I believe we have an understanding then. As I replaced my helmet she asked about her couriers, to which I stated the deal was for the book, dead or alive her couriers meant nothing to me, only the book mattered. Again Shemeshka showed her grin and nodded a understanding. Shemeshka told me that the book would be arriving into Sigil at the arch gardens near the statue of the broken angel. Knowing this location I nodded and slowly stood. Until tomorrow evening then, I told her, nodding. She wished me luck and with that I left her office. Upon closing the door I snatched the scythe from the guard hoping for a response but was sadly not rewarded with one. Smiling I turned and left the Fortunes Wheel for the long journey to the Black Bird. The Black Bird when I arrived was like it was every other night, the majority of its patrons were the group I now employ and few others. Shaking my head at their sad little lives I sat down at the table and told them that we would prepare for combat on the following evening. Any research into damaging were-creatures would be needed so no surprises could hinder the operation. Ogdru said that most were-things could be harmed by silver or silver weapons. Since silver weapons were probably rare, or at the very least expensive the option for this was limited. Deciding that silver could be smelted down to a base component and the flakes could then be added to a paste, we could coat our weapons with a semi-efficient toxin. The effects would not last more than a few swings but should do the trick. Giving Ogdru 30 silver pieces to do the job stunned many of the group. Again they have seen me throw money out and again they are almost mesmerized by its hold over them. Odgru quickly scooped the money up looking about for the fictional thief. Woe be the day I have to start killing patrons at the Black Bird again for taking what is not theirs. Deciding to meet at the Black Bird the next evening to coat the weapons and to discuss our strategy, I left to return home. The next day was a good day for Sigil. There was no rain, for the most part the air was cleaner than normal and because of this more people were out and wandering Sigil. This could cause a problem that the arch gardens is a popular spot for the denizens of Sigil to wander through. With the weather being as it was, there was more likely to find a crowd in the gardens, making the task that much harder to find the ambushers. As planned we coated our weapons, and to Ogdru’s best estimation, we would have two maybe three hits before the coating was gone. Christoph had scrounged up two dustmen cloaks with the idea that one of Ogdru’s zombies, of which he now had four, would be lying dead in the garden. Christoph and Ogdru would wear the cloaks, and with a small pull cart containing the other zombies they would attempt to blend into the background noise of the Sigilians. An interesting idea but one that would require a bit of good luck on the timing, but if it made Christoph feel important and useful, I wouldn’t say anything. Christoph did ask to borrow some gold as he wanted to help Steelweaver purchase a silvered sword. Since this is a habit that I do not want to become commonplace, I made Christoph sign a contract that paid me back more gold than what I loaned as payment. The fool agreed and as such, placed his life in Steelweavers hands. We left the Black Bird and made the relatively long trek to the arch gardens several hours before anti-peak. Marv decided to position himself above the large archway directly above the small alcove containing the broken angel statue. I found a nice bench to sit on, one that afforded me with a good view of the alcove. Steelweaver decided to “protect†Christoph and as such was walking with them towards their wayward zombie actor. The park itself was busy, the weather drawing more out into the park than I had hoped for. Trying to watch them all was difficult enough so I decided to limit my watching to just the gate itself. I would know who was the ambusher when the couriers were being attacked. Just after the final bell tolled to signal anti-peak, the alcove ring began to shimmer and the shape of the angel seemed to distort like a bubble in water. Pushing its way through the gate stood a tall creature covered in large metallic looking spikes that seemed to lay flat against its body like hair. Once through it scanned left and right and deciding that it was safe moved forward. A second later another bubble and a cloaked individual followed the first creature. The shimmer faded and the second individual walked in step behind the creature as they moved through the many arches in the park. The cloaked individual looked at me and when it realized that I was in fact watching him, I nodded and stood. Moving down the path towards where the couriers were heading the ambush happened. Christoph had seen a dwarf activate a self made gate and were-rats poured out. Unfortunately the attention of the couriers was drawn not to the rats, but instead to Christoph who was running towards them with his sword out, yelling “Ambush!†Thankfully the couriers were quick to react and managed to deflect most of the blows that came at them from the rats. Steelweaver and Christoph managed to make it to the couriers before the rest of us and Steelweaver laid into them with a silver sword he purchased on the way to the gardens. The sword coupled with Steelweavers skill made short work of the were-rats. The silver did indeed affect them, and Steelweaver made the most of it by shoving his sword into their heads or just plain cutting the head from the neck. Sadly my luck at the martial combat was woefully nonexistent and I managed to only wound one of the creatures. The coated weapons did in fact harm them as well as Steelweavers sword, but none of us could match his skill in dealing death that day. When it was all done, Christoph found the parchment the dwarf used to open the gate with and folded the scroll up to close the gate. With the fight over, the couriers seemed to be fine, a small cut on the cloaked individual was the only real damage seen. When we told them that Shemeshka had sent us to deal with the ambush the tall creature, Ebon, as it was named seemed to relax. In fact Ebon was a woman and the metallic hairs were in fact sharp blades that she could raise like a porcupine from my original plane. The hooded individual called himself Niren and was in fact an assassin. The thought that an assassin was carrying the book made me wonder if he in fact retrieved the book, instead of just ferrying it around the planes. With the introductions over, we proceeded to the Fortunes Wheel to discover what fortune Shemeshka would gift us with. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Old Man Posted March 15, 2006 Report Share Posted March 15, 2006 Re: [sigil Campaign] The Journal of Typhus Nice, keep it up or die Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
MordeanGrey Posted March 15, 2006 Report Share Posted March 15, 2006 Re: [sigil Campaign] The Journal of Typhus Thanks for posting your Journal. Here's the background you posted earlier. Character History: Typhus Galeel Shire, the jewel of the Telphan empire was a trade hub that held 20,000 souls. Its gleaming stone walls towered 25 feet into the air defending its occupants from any army that wished to cripple the Telphan trade. Galeel Shire had a standing army of 2,000 well trained men, and a militia that raised the total strength of the army to well over 8,000 men. For more than 300 years the town stood as solid as the stone walls that protected it. Until Cyrus Kreele came to town. Cyrus Kreele was a worshipper of Nehrull, and a devout one at that. All his time was spent perfecting poisons, combining anything and everything to make all manners of vile potables. For 40 years Cyrus perfected his craft, his name became synonymous with death itself. It was at this time that Cyrus decided to please his god with the ultimate ritual in Nehrulls name, and with it a place by his side for all immortality. Cyrus worked with maniacal precision and focus, the drive for his ascension fueling every waking moment. For five years Cyrus brewed concoction after concoction, and when enough had been made, Cyrus made good his plan. One early summer day before the heat of the sun baked the inhabitants of Galeel Shire a message was sent to the capital talking of a terrible plague that had befallen the town. The message claimed that hundreds were dying with each passing night and the rotting bodies and corpses were filling the streets causing the plague to spread faster. More information eluded to a lack of direction from its ruling family and military. This lack of communication was causing small riots in the streets and whole sections of the great city were burning unchecked. The journey would take 3 days for the message to arrive in the Lord Regents hands and with this time, Cyrus began the systematic assassination of the ruling family. Foods and water were poisoned, the well in the castle was poisoned as well. Bottles of wine were coated with a contact poison to give the illusion that the very wine itself was poisoned. Livestock and their feed were not safe either. Within the 3 days most of the royal family of Galeel Shire was either dead or dying, no doctor was able to save them, no spell cured them. Fearing mass panic at the loss of the royal family, the captain of the guard took the reins of governing until word could be sent to the Lord Regent. At the very time that the Lord Regent was assembling his armies to enclose and surround Galeel Shire to prevent the plague from spreading, Cyrus began poisoning the food stores of the enlisted men. Cyrus made careful plans to keep the Captain alive until it was time for his blessing from Nehrull. One week after the message had been sent, the Lord Regents armies was approaching the walls of Galeel Shire, with orders to kill anyone from the Shire and to burn the bodies. All livestock was to be killed and burned, with all outlining crops and farms razed. It was at this time that the poisons were released into the towns wells and grain stores. The panic of the general populace began soon after the army of the Lord Regent set up. Cyrus set a few fires in the poorer sections of town and these quickly spread outwards. Any towns person that tried to escape Galeel Shire was cut down and quickly burned by the surrounding army. This is also when the Captains usefulness had run out and was removed by Cyrus personally. For three weeks the poisons took hold and killed off the populace, the bodies that littered the streets eventually caused a plague to arise and Cyrus watched it all unfold from the very balcony of the royal families keep. When the plague had finally killed the last of Galeel Shire’s populace did Cyrus begin to feel the effects of the plague. His skin began to rot away, his breath became labored, even clumps of his own hair began to fall out. With the final soul in this now dead city soon to be taken, Cyrus made his pledge aloud to Nehrull. “All that I have done here is for you lord Nehrull, master of death, hater of life. With this sacrifice I ask for your blessings and to be given a place at your side where I may do your bidding until the end of time.†Soon after the proclamation Cyrus died, and Typhus was born. For two days, Cyrus’ body laid on the balcony decaying in the heat of the summer before Typhus willed his eyes open. When he sat up, he realized that the plague no longer ravaged his body, but the damage was done and he was soon going to be dead. Disoriented, Typhus willed his body to stand, only to realize that crawling was all he was capable of. When Typhus rolled over, his eyes came upon a suit of armor laid out on the floor behind him. A whisper on the wind said, “Wear the armor of Nehrull, and with it you will be immortal. Pick up the scythe, and with it do my bidding.†Typhus did as his god demanded and donned the armor. When the last piece of armor was equipped the feeling of death overtaking him left. His vision cleared, no longer blurry from the exertion of putting on the heavy plate armor. The dull green armor was extremely heavy and cumbersome for Typhus, but with the removal of any piece the feelings of death returned. A dark cloud seemed to move within the armor, pulsing as if the armor itself had a heart beat. When Typhus grabbed up the scythe he found it to be lighter than expected. The scythe’s haft made of a strange dark wood with faces in pain etched into its bark. Pleased at his success, Typhus grabbed one trophy from all that remained of Galeel Shire, a stein from its lord. With this he traveled through the town marveling at the destruction wrought by his own hand. The walls that were so confidently built to keep enemies out, kept the people in and allowed the plague to fester. A very fitting deed for his god, Typhus thought and so he left to open the gates of the city and release the plague onto the army still camped outside. But as Typhus moved through the wicket in the gate house door, a flash of brilliant magic erupted from the doors edges and Typhus found himself stepping into a new world. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
MordeanGrey Posted March 15, 2006 Report Share Posted March 15, 2006 Re: [sigil Campaign] The Journal of Typhus I'm the one responsible for this campaign. It's our fourth major excursion into the Planescape setting using Fantasy Hero. We have a good group of players who have known each other and gamed together for many years. They are all involved in the plotline and contribute campaign ideas through their character's history, journal, and actions during the game. Their enthusiasm and contributions make my job much easier. Sometimes I feel less like the gamemaster, and more like the guy loosely holding the reigns, steering the story along. I'm working on getting some of the other players to join this site and update their journals and comments in this thread. Hopefully you all enjoy the story and comments from those involved. Feel free to borrow campaign ideas for your own games, and any feedback is always welcomed. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Undertaker Posted March 16, 2006 Report Share Posted March 16, 2006 Re: [sigil Campaign] The Journal of Typhus Christoph Garnett - a.k.a. Undertaker Yet another eventful chapter in Sigil life. I overheard a conversation two men were having; it seemed they were planning to stop a shipment of sorts. They had knowledge of an object coming into Sigil that they were going to intercept and take to another party before it reached the one that had contracted the job. I motioned for Steelweaver to come with me and we followed the two out into the streets. We then attempted to follow them to see were they might lead us but they must have spotted us because at the first chance they teleported away. We told the group what I had heard and we had seen and asked if the group wanted to intervene (either to take the package ourselves or to help who ever it was that was expecting the package) after much deliberation we decided to investigate the matter ourselves and decide what we’d do after we found more information. The info we turned up wasn’t good, it seems the person expecting the package was some well to do person in Sigil that a body shouldn’t cross (Shemeska-an information expert). I didn’t feel like talking straight to her so I tried finding more information on my own. I totally struck out, mainly because I wasn’t ready to stick my neck out dropping names. So I spent most of my night talking to a bartender (Griff) at the Black Sails tavern. Typhus however decided to go straight to the source. He told of how he was privy to a conversation about the taking of her merchandise (A book) and asked if he and his friends could help. I’m not sure what else he promised but he came to the Blackbird and told the rest of us that we now had a job protecting the package and its curriers (ok not so much the curriers). He also had a location for the port of entry, an arch with an angel with a broken wing in The Arched Gardens. Which we decided would be the perfect place for someone to try an ambush. We staked out the Arch Gardens and placed ourselves in strategic places. I had borrowed a cart from the Mortuary (my place of employment) and some dustmen’s cloaks as a disguise. As the time grew nearer to the arrival of the couriers we moved in, keeping an eye on the gate in which they were to enter the garden. There were several people around the same area anyone of which could be the ambushers. Two figures came through the arch of the broken winged angel. Both looking around and moving swiftly through the garden. As I got closer I spotted a man bending down to the ground and disappearing into a hole. I had discovered earlier that the ambusher’s could be ware rats and so a sudden appearance of a hole meant to me that an attack was taking place I yelled “Ambush†and moved in to intercept. Marv who had positioned himself on top of a walk way jumped down and started for the fight. I tried to explain to the two couriers that we were here to help as ware rats started poring out of the hole. I positioned myself along side of one of the curriers and began fighting off the rats. Steelweaver came like a blear from my left and engaged a rat man and, in one swift blow to the head, killed him instantly. He seamed to dispatch them as quickly as they emerged from the hole. I fought on with the opponents that came my way and also the ones engaged against the couriers. Marv came to my aid and I no longer worried about the vermin on my left. Steelweaver went to what looked like a hole in the ground and folded it up like a map. What a cleaver man. Typhus exchanged small talk with the couriers then he and Steelweaver went with them to the Fortunes Wheel. I took the dead bodies of the wear rats (now in human form) to the Mortuary. Using the cart, I made it back with no trouble. I disposed of the bodies and tagged them so they’d disappear for good. No one was going to find them and talk to them like some of our wizards do. Talking to the dead now that’s just wrong and I wasn’t going to have my identity given up by a dead guy. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Bik Britelite Posted March 16, 2006 Author Report Share Posted March 16, 2006 Re: [sigil Campaign] The Journal of Typhus I don't know who you're trying to kid, its not Undertaker, its Underhill. (inside joke) Posting at a quarter after one in the morning? Shouldn't you be out driving around making the local police nervous? (another inside joke) Great story! Thanks for adding to the controlled chaos. Didn't remember that it was Steelweaver that got the scroll/teleportation/gate thingy. Hmmmmmm. Guess the rot is finally getting to Typhus after all. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
MordeanGrey Posted March 16, 2006 Report Share Posted March 16, 2006 Re: [sigil Campaign] The Journal of Typhus Welcome Undertaker! I thought you would probably use Ash or Half-Ash for your screen name! LOL Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Undertaker Posted March 16, 2006 Report Share Posted March 16, 2006 Re: [sigil Campaign] The Journal of Typhus Good morning. We'll see if I can get more written now that I can post here. It took an hour to download the java stuf. see ya later Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
MordeanGrey Posted March 16, 2006 Report Share Posted March 16, 2006 Re: [sigil Campaign] The Journal of Typhus Friends don't let friends use dial-up! Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Mister E Posted March 18, 2006 Report Share Posted March 18, 2006 Re: [sigil Campaign] The Journal of Typhus God, I was such a huge fan of the Planescape campaign. Huge. Putting HERO and Planescape together makes me excited... in a creative/intellectual kind of way. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
MordeanGrey Posted March 19, 2006 Report Share Posted March 19, 2006 Re: [sigil Campaign] The Journal of Typhus We've had a blast using Hero and Planescape together. All of the strange races in Sigil are easily represented using Fantasy Hero. So many of the planar creatures have magical abilities as well as martial abilities, and Hero just works better for that than AD&D. For our first Planescape game I had all of the players create characters who were Primes. Since none of the players knew anyting about Sigil and the Planes, this worked very well. For the later games I have allowed them to create Planar characters since the players now understand more of the campaign setting and how things work. We've had Tieflings, a minotaur, lesser Baatezu, a half vampire, a sentient amulet, a warrior golem (really a hollow, animated suit of armor), a sentient sword, an Illithid, a gargoyle, various "plane-touched" humans, and a whole menagerie of other unusual creatures as player characters. It's a wide open setting where almost anything can work if the players provide a good background for their character concepts. One of the biggest challenges for a Planescape campaign is narrowing down the setting. The Planes are infinite and the characters can travel almost anywhere given the correct gate key. Our first group of characters used Sigil for a base and explored the Planes. The later groups have spent most of their time in Sigil, involved with business dealings and intrigue among the various Factions. It's been a lot of fun for everyone involved so far. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Mister E Posted March 23, 2006 Report Share Posted March 23, 2006 Re: [sigil Campaign] The Journal of Typhus I think those old Planescape Books will become fairly valueable in the future to come. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
MordeanGrey Posted March 30, 2006 Report Share Posted March 30, 2006 Re: [sigil Campaign] The Journal of Typhus I hope they do! But mine won't be for sale any time soon. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
MordeanGrey Posted July 12, 2006 Report Share Posted July 12, 2006 Re: [sigil Campaign] The Journal of Typhus Campaign is resuming after a few months off. btt Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
MordeanGrey Posted July 13, 2006 Report Share Posted July 13, 2006 Re: [sigil Campaign] The Journal of Typhus We introduced two new characters to the party last night. They are replacements for Ogdru (now an NPC) and Cadak (player's choice to change characters.) I'll let the guys tell the story from their perspectives. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Cantriped Posted July 14, 2006 Report Share Posted July 14, 2006 Re: [sigil Campaign] The Journal of Typhus I always like the planescape setting, or anything do to with planar travel and cosmology, but never played an entire game based around it (unless you count the CRPG Planescape Torment) but it wasn't really the same. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Bik Britelite Posted July 19, 2006 Author Report Share Posted July 19, 2006 Re: [sigil Campaign] The Journal of Typhus Well its been a long time since my last post but we started playing again and so I finished this up today. Have fun reading and remember I don't claim to be a writer, just someone who loves telling the "real" story. The walk was a fairly long one from the Arched Gardens to the Fortunes Wheel, one that I did not relish, but with the knowledge that a completed task would open my doors to more influential contacts made the walk tolerable. Marv and Steelweaver decided to come with me, much to my disappointment, with Ogdru and Christoph left to collect up the now rotting corpses of the were-rats. As it turns out the wagon idea pulled through, no pun intended, as they now had something to remove the vermin. Eventually arriving at Fortunes Wheel I was again assaulted with the sounds of fools and the parting of their wealth to wealthier hands. I turned to the open mouthed Marv and Steelweaver and shooed them away telling them to gamble and leave me be. Like the obedient little dog that Marv is, he quickly moved into the room to find some way to loose his few coins, the size and blood covered clothing making that trip rather easy. Steelweaver, decided to just follow in his wake and looked confused, although I did notice his eyes as they coveted the coin purses dangling from unwary owners belts. The path to Shemeshka’s office was a different one than I had already taken, this route being reserved for employees. As with Steelweaver I followed in Ebon and Niren’s wake with neither a glance nor an explanation to any of her house guards as to why I was here. As we approached a stairway up to her office I could hear the cries of anger from some individual that was not pleased at having his meeting cut short because of our arrival. I saw the weak, pale faced man as I laboriously moved up the stairs, already tired from the amount of walking that I had endured this day. The man was smart enough to let me pass before descending down the stairs, as I had no intention of moving out of his way. Very few things in Sigil warrant a new path and I choose those moments very carefully. The office upon entering looked the same as before, trappings that were neither valuable or important, just brightly colored. Upon seeing Nirens face, I would imagine that Shemeshkas’ tail began wagging, as a puppy would at the sight of its master. An analogy that was fitting, as information and its gathering was Shemeska’s master. Thankfully neither Ebon nor Niren took the lone chair in front of her desk and so I allowed myself this one weakness to relax in a chair with a cushion. As I took my chair, Niren handed the book over and Shemeshka slowly caressed the cover of the book with her paw, and then quickly covered the book back up and set it aside. Payment for my men was given to me in the form of a small sack of coins that landed rather heavily upon her desk. The book Shemeshka told me would in fact contain more work for me and my hirelings if I was interested, and of course I said that would suffice. Her lackeys knew where I frequented and could easily reach me when the task presented itself. The nod told me the meeting was over, and even though I regretted leaving the comfortable chair, the newly gained contact was more than enough to stifle the groan that should have escaped my lips as I stood. Nodding to Niren as I left, I overheard Ebon mutter something to Niren that I could not make out. My best guess would be that she was giving a warning to Niren about my person. That afforded me a smile and so I left the Fortunes Wheel to head towards the Black Bird. It wasn’t until I had entered the Black Bird that I realized I had forgotten about Marv and Steelweaver. For the first time I was surprised to note that none of those who I have associated with lately were in the tavern. The bartender, noticing my pause chuckled and said he thought it was odd as well. After getting my stein filled I sat down in my usual seat and waited for the others to arrive. I expected Marv to be one of the first, as his luck could not be better than the houses and he would soon be out of coin, which meant that he was soon to be out of drink. I was therefore surprised to see Christoph enter before the rest. About the time he had gotten himself a drink and sat down, Marv and Steelweaver came in. Marv it would appear had won money, because his big meaty paw held out in front of him was holding some coins. After getting their drinks Steelweaver and Marv sat down and I tossed the purse from Shemeshka on the table. Christoph opened the purse and said there’s 25 gold in there. “Yes,” I replied, “you were all paid very well for your services and the 5 gold coins you each now have should ensure future work.” Christoph said that he would hold onto Ogdru’s coins and then handed me the 10 gold that I had loaned him earlier in the day. A small, sad sigh was my only reply to the payment of debt. Christoph then handed everyone some more silver saying that the mortuary paid well for the bodies of the rat men. Marv took notice of that statement, and I imagine there will be a new rat catcher in town. A shrug and finishing of my ale allowed me to leave before any festivities ensued from the now well paid men. The next few days were like any other, simple studies on some more information gathered about a new herb that grew on one of the lower planes peaked my interest for a few days. Around the usual gathering time, I straightened up the lab and made my slow hobble to the Black Bird for drinks and to inform the usuals that more work would be coming our way from Shemeshka. I noticed there were a few new faces in the crowd this night but paid no heed and proceeded to the table where Marv was already drinking with Christoph and Steelweaver. Oddly enough, Ogdru or Cadak and his meat puppet were not present. Once again I sat in my usual chair and was immediately assaulted with the usual questions from Christoph on how my day was, and what did I do. Again I looked at him and with a weary face replied, “you wouldn’t want to know.” I have yet to understand why I tolerate his presence. The sunny disposition he eerily exudes gets rather tiresome, but I manage to endure this without a wrathful thrashing. Maybe he is plane touched somehow and this is his gift, irritating and comfortable at the same time. All I could make out from the conversation between Marv and Steelweaver was Marv’s constant finishing of a sentence with, “and then they gave me more money.” It would appear that a new vice is forming within the peanut shell of Marv’s head and gambling as well as drinking would now consume his already dreary little life. It was at this time that I noticed one of the new faces approaching our table. A freakishly tall elf moved to our table and sat down, a brown coffee smelling drink grasped with his thin hands. I asked “who are you and what do you want?” Hoping the reply was “do you make contact poisons?” did not happen and since I noticed no discernible weapon other than a strange staff he wore over his should on his back I doubt he needed any. No justified murders this night it would seem. Sad really, the elf looked frail. Tall, gaunt, and very breakable. I imagine Marv could flick the man to death, and it wouldn’t even take that long. Instead the elf replied he had no name and asked if I knew Ogdru. This in itself told me that he was new to sigil, only the new ones ask direct questions without offering something as payment or a reason for the query. Information in sigil is readily available and never free. You may give it out for nothing but that person is usually in danger of dying for not answering, so in fact you are paying something. Since there was no explanation as to why this elf wanted Ogdru, I answered with only a simple, “I know him.” Apparently this was not enough of an answer, even though I did answer the question. “He works for you?” the elf asked. Again another question and still not an offering for my time. So another blunt answer as I was already tired of the elf and actually wanting to hear the dull droning of Christoph instead. “He has worked for me in the past.” At this point I hoped either the elf would get a clue and ask straight out why he wanted Ogdru or just leave. He didn’t catch on as he then asked yet another question, “do you know where he is now?” I believe its the unexplainable aura that radiates from Christoph because I didn’t introduce him to the wonderment of Nehrulls blade. “NO!” I snarled hoping that at last now the elf learned that I was tired of his presence. “When did you last see him alive?” the elf asked. The group at this point looked up as the question startled them, I on the other hand was tired of the constant questions. The elf had been playing in the berry bushes too long and his brain was in fact pickled, no one person could be so daft as to not recognize my ire. Even Marv had been more interested in his empty drink than the conversation that was happening. The only way I was going to be able to enjoy this evening was to get rid of the elf, either with the scythe or just plain making the elf understand that asking the right question would be preferential to death. “I saw him a few days ago, here at this table when I paid him for his last job. Now why do you want to find him?” I cursed. “To charge these” was the reply and the elf dumped a handful of precious stones onto the table. Marvs eyes shot open as if someone tried to stab him in the back, Steelweaver too looked shocked and Christoph almost fell out of the rickety chair he is always leaning back in. Again the fascination that money holds over these fools shocked me. All this ire, this desire to murder the elf in front of everyone in the room, caused by some shiny little stones some dwarf probably pulled out of some planar mountain. “Good luck finding him.” I replied once again focusing my eyes back on my tasteless drink. The rest of the crew looking not at the elf or the room, or even their drinks but instead to the stones that the elf was putting back into a bag. The elf undaunted said that if he could not find Ogdru that he would need money so he could find someone else that would enchant them. He heard that I paid well for good work and asked if I was hiring. For the first time in the whole of the time the elf actually had a real question presented with a valid excuse for asking it and wasting my time. To be honest, I immediately had a vision of one of the many devils in Ribcage gutting the elf while on a “job” and a smile crossed my lips, thankfully the helm masked such a show of compassion. I answered his question and said that I occasionally hire people when I had work to be done. Instead of leaving it at that, the elf started poking again. “So these men work for you?” he asked gesturing at Marv, Christoph and Steelweaver. Marv immediately began looking into his mug again trying in vain to find more ale. “I have hired them in the past!” I grumped. “And their terms?” the elf asked slowly. Then it hit me. He was trying to bargain. Something that I am not used to when dealing with the other fools seated at the table. The elf was trying to be clever, prove he was intelligent or at least thoughtful. Too bad my anger had gotten the better of me, because the bargaining had ended the moment I realized what he was trying to do. I informed him that these men showed up here and if I had a job, that I would hire them and that I would pay them well when the job was over if they survived. “How much of a percentage?” the elf asked. So the tree hugger was educated, and knew mathematics, or at least knew the word percentage. I smiled knowing that if he was in fact book learned this answer would not be what he wanted to hear. Looking at all three around the table, and using my fingers as a tool to help the elf understand, I held up four fingers. Twenty-five percent, each. Marv nodding in agreement, with a smile on his broad face. “Of the gross?” the elf asked again? Inwardly I chuckled. He at least picked up on what the others did not, there is generally more money involved than what is given out as pay. In this case the elf assumed that wealth was a motivating factor for me which was false. The money was there to help me continue my work in Nehrull’s name, not for personal gain. “You get an equal share of the money I pay for doing the job.” In my head I added that if he wanted more, kill more off the men and the percentage grows. The answer was not what the elf wanted to hear, and as such he said that he wanted to revisit the deal once his skills were noted. I nodded since the revisit result would be the same. His abilities were not any more important than Marvs ability to take damage and deal it back out ten-fold. Of course I could let it slip that the elf wanted more money to the men and let them visit their own brand of justice on the elf for even trying to weasel out more money. Sitting back into my chair I was about to return to my long neglected ale when a small scrap of parchment was laid in front of me by one of the bar tarts. With a deep sigh I unfolded the letter and read a warning saying that I was in danger and that the individual in the corner would be able to help. Looking in the corner of the bar, the shadows parted for a small second to reveal a man I hadn’t noticed yet. Christoph leaned over my shoulder and read the note at the same time as I did and together we looked into the corner discovering an individual we had not noticed before. I excused myself and slowly stood while Christoph leaned back to ponder the note and its meeting, thankfully I left the elf to bother Marv. Maybe if I was lucky there would be a loud screaming sound as Marv took the stones from the soon to be dead elf. Sadly the only noise was caused by Christoph as that rickety chair he insists on sitting in tipped over, spilling Christoph rather unceremoniously on the tavern floor. After reaching this strangers table the shadows still continued to hide the individual from casual sight. I admit that even my eyes at this range had a difficult time tracking onto the figure with the cowl pulled over his head. The voice though was unmistakable, a demon. The deep, dual voice sound gave its greeting and the shadows lessened. “Interesting note,” I said to the demon. A slow nod and its reply that something of this import should not be discussed in such an open forum. I chuckled at this since I had no care who heard. It was at this moment that Christoph appeared at my side looking at the shadowy figure before me with ever hateful eyes. No sooner had we realized that Christoph was there then he reached out and yanked the cowl down from the figured seated opposite me. “What are you doing, Christoph?” I asked since the action amused me. He just stared for a moment, then his shoulders slumped and his eyes lost the fury that was so recently there. He turned and went back to the table leaving me to talk with a young looking human that looked as frail as the elf. “I am Darkchant the Fiend,” he said looking a little perturbed at Christophs now retreating back. I don’t know if he is a real demon or just a tiefling, but I was at least interested in sitting over hear rather than back with the elf. “So, who wants me dead?” I asked. Darkchant replied, “the actions in the Arched Gardens was known to him and that Lothar was very ‘upset’ with the intrusion of his theft. I shrugged at this, since I did not care what Lothar thought, much less what Lothar thought about me. Darkchant sensing my casual attitude to the news added that Shemeshka was in fact hanging me out to dry, as Lothar was more interested in me now than he was the book. I admit that I was surprised to hear this, but there was nothing that could be immediately done to rectify that situation. Again I shrugged my shoulders and dismissed the fear monger. Darkchant then said that he was interested in working for me, and that his skills in information gathering could possibly sate Lothar’s anger and get him to back off. This seemed so odd, a possible demon telling me about a fictional threat against my life that he could purportedly take care of and keep me safe. Since I dismissed the threat and the possibility that there was even a threat, I told him to do what he could and left the table to rejoin the others. My expectation was, that would be the last time I would see Darkchant the Fiend. As I got closer to the table I could see that the elf was still there, as were the others, and I was in no mood to listen to the ramblings of the common folk so I turned and headed home. Upon entering I noticed that something was wrong. Objects had been moved, a potion bottle in the lab had been broken, its contents staining my floor a deep green. I did a quick inventory and noticed that several expensive herbs and instruments were missing. It was at that point that the rage that had been building all night resurfaced, no longer cowed by Christophs good humor, the words of Darkchant dancing in my mind, all I could think of was Shemeshka. With a howl of disgust I tore open my door and stormed towards the Fortunes Wheel, anger fueling every step. Upon arriving I moved to the stairwell leading to Shemeshka’s office, when the guard moved to intercept I stopped on the stairs and turned to face the guard. With a very strained and semi-controlled rage I said, “Shemeshka, now!” He stammered out that she was currently with someone, and so the rage bellowed forth from my voice as I unleashed the fury of Nehrulls name and grew to the full height of the armor and screamed, “NOW!” The guard froze in his tracks as did almost everyone in the Fortunes Wheel, only a few guards moved towards the staircase sensing trouble, but moving much too slow to stop me. After a few seconds the guard stuttered that he would inform her that I was here and stumbled up the stairs to her office. A moment later the same man that had to leave early the last time I had arrived here was being ushered down the stairwell with apologies for the inconvenience. He noticed me and with an accusatory finger, he pointed at me and yelled, “you again?” I brushed him aside and moved up the stairwell into her office. Once the door was closed Shemeshka stood and said that even though I had done her a great service in helping her get the book, my favor with her was quickly fading. Realizing that my anger had gotten the better of me, I asked her in a more civilized tone than I had used on the guards, “Why didn’t you tell me that Lothar was after me now and not the book?” Deciding to ask this would allow me to learn if what Darkchant said was in fact true and because I realized that I had no reason for being here. She shrugged and said that information was never free, but she didn’t think I would have any problem dealing with Lothar if he attempted anything. Chewing on this for a second allowed me to calm down even more and realize my mistake in coming here. A new and powerful contact could very easily be lost if I didn’t play my cards right. Shemeshka sensed my calming and even seemed to relax somewhat herself. I imagine that Ebon or Niren was close by just in case I got out of hand, and realizing that I was coming to my senses meant that she was not in any danger. Although I doubt she would be in any danger even if she was alone. I looked up and told her that my lab had been gone through, and that items were missing. Knowing that I was trying to save face she graciously allowed me to do so and said, “It was not my men.” “Then who?” I asked. Suddenly her toothy grin reappeared as business presented itself, so she smiled and said that information like that is never free. “Find out.” I said as I reached into my armor and pulled forth my coin purse, tossing it onto her desk. The amount meant nothing to me, only the information that it would buy. When it hit the table, several of the baubles bounced, and I imagine Shemeshka’s ears picked up on the sum of money that was now in her possession. She now knew that money was not a motivating factor in my life and that business was all I cared about. She took the peace offering and said that she would find out. With that I nodded and left the room. The walk home was painfully slow and for good reason, the rage had left and the ability to ignore pain was over. I used that pain as a reminder to myself to not let my rage take hold of me. It was a lesson that I knew I would forget after a short time, but for now, I would remember. I arrived home and cleaned up the mess left by my burglar, writing down all the missing herbs and instruments so that I could replenish my stocks. Somewhere during this time I managed a few hours of rest, never getting what I wanted, but enough to keep me going. A knock on my door on the next morning woke me and I opened the door. In front of me was a rather non descript man that said Shemeshka was ready to see me about a job and that she found out who took my belongings. My that little fox can work fast I thought. “Who?” I asked. The answer surprised me, “Ogdru.” I stood there for a few seconds letting that sink in. It made perfect sense, he was the only one that had been in my lab, he is the only one that would know what was important to take. Eventually I stopped thinking about ways of strangling the little opium addict and looked down noticing that the man was still standing there. “Anything else?” I asked. He seemed surprised and said, “no.” So I stared at him for a second or two longer than asked “why are you still here then,” to which he ran off. As I followed the messengers path my eyes came upon the elf. He was watching my house it would appear, waiting for Ogdru. The elf nodded to me when he realized that I saw him, with that I turned and closed the door. A few seconds later he was a knocking on my door and I was not surprised to see the elf looking annoyed that I had ignored him after opening the door back up. “What?” I asked, annoyed knowing that bad news travels in threes and seeing the elf after finding out about Ogdru was only my second curse. “Ogdru did not go to his house last night.” the elf said. To be honest I was shocked that Ogdru even had a house. I can only imagine what a hovel that must be, when all your waking hours are spent using opium or finding more opium to use later. I told the elf as much, to which he said that he still needed to find him. Depressing as that was to hear, our fates seemed intertwined as I too desired to find him. “Then our interests coincide for now.” I said as I turned and closed the door. Later that day after purchasing a few of the missing instruments and making sure that they worked I headed over to the Black Bird to inform the “men” that I would be needing them for a job later this week. As usual Marv and the others were there, even the elf was there drinking that foul coffee of his. When I sat down, after filling my stein Christoph immediately began the litany of questions I have become used to hearing. This time I told him that Ogdru had stolen some things from me. The elf snapped to attention at that, while Christoph asked when it happened. I told him, “some time yesterday afternoon or early evening I imagine,” surprising myself that I said this calmly. This caused the elf to spring into action as he bolted for the door. Marv was also heading to the door, but went the opposite direction from the elf after leaving the bar. I realized that mentioning a mere sighting of Ogdru would cause the elf to leave my presence and so I pocketed that thought for later use if needed. Christoph and Steelweaver still stunned at the sudden departure of the others digested the information and for once we drank in silence. A few moments later, Darkchant came into the tavern and small snicker on my part reminded me that I had thought I was done with this individual. He came to our table and sat down, all the while covered in that shadow. “I heard about last nights activity at the Fortunes Wheel,” Darkchant said as he was sitting down. “Yes, my rage got the better of me. A grievous mistake, but Shemeshka and I worked it out. In fact I am to meet with her this evening to discuss a job.” Darkchant nodded at that information, “I had heard as much,” he replied. “I also was able to convince Lothar to leave you alone,” Darkchant added. To this news I thanked Darkchant, but informed him that the concern for my well being at the hands of Lothar was something I was not concerned with, rat men or not. The ability of Darkchant to gather information quickly may be of use to me and as such was pleased when he asked if he could come along for the meeting with Shemeshka. I nodded and said we would leave here some time before anti-peak. Darkchant agreed to meet me later and left the Black Bird to do some of his work. The rest of the day was uneventful, and peaceful for once. That evening Darkchant did in fact return and was cordial enough to not outpace me on the trek to the Fortunes Wheel for our meeting with Shemeshka. Along the way he attempted to shield my presence in his shadow to see if I could in fact become more stealthy. It must have worked at the visual level because many of the local sigilians would almost bump into me, but at the last moment would notice my presence and move quickly out of the way. Darkchant decided that he should cancel that ability as it may cause a complication along the way, knowing my temper. Upon arriving at the Fortunes Wheel I noticed that all of the men were now here, Marv gambling away his fortune with Steelweaver watching on. Christoph waved as we entered, but I ignored the wave and proceeded to the stairs. No sooner had I reached the stairway than Steelweaver was at my heels. Watching Marv loose his money must be excruciating for someone like Steelweaver, or at the very least boring. When reaching the door to Shemeshkas office, I turned and handed my scythe over to Steelweaver and proceeded into the office with Darkchant in tow. I imagine Steelweaver stood there for a few seconds before realizing that I had just casually dismissed him. The office looked the same and again I quickly made my way to the comfortable chair with the cushion. It was at this time that Shemeshka noted Darkchant’s presence. I cannot tell if she was displeased at this or if she was just surprised, but there was some history there. Something that I will have to ask about later, for now there was business to attend to. As it turns out, the book actually is about a hazard mage. These are the mages that are known as the elite class mages, very powerful and as such very dangerous. The book described the location of one such hazard mage, or of his grave. The book also shed light on how he could be returned to the living. Shemeshka wanted me to do just that, then bring the book back so that she could control him. The threat was idly placed about trying to use the book ourselves, or running off with it, but was not needed. I have no desire to attempt to control a hazard mage, something I imagine Shemeshka is more than capable of doing. The payment would be the collection of any loot while in his tomb, and a small fee up front and a much larger fee on completion. All these promises of wealth and power, although not desired by me but my men, where at the end of the job. Something a clever business individual promises to someone when they do not expect them to come back. So the mission would be difficult, this I figured. Waking a hazard mage wasn’t the real problem, getting to him was going to be the issue. Traps are usually laid by the powerful and paranoid, so Steelweaver would be needed. Since we were going to have to travel to another plane, this elf may be able to track the location so unfortunately he too was needed. Darkchant’s skill at finding out information about the mage would be needed before we left as well as during the excavation I would imagine. Marv, well you can never have enough meat shields and he was one of the better ones. Christoph I was unsure of, but his skills are not all known to me, his dealings with the Dustmen may help provide some useful information, but more than likely his ability to absorb a few hits should suffice. For the next few minutes we talked pleasantries and decided that in a few days time we would come and retrieve the book before leaving Sigil. So with our new job planned, the gathering of information began. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Walter Posted July 19, 2006 Report Share Posted July 19, 2006 Re: [sigil Campaign] The Journal of Typhus Rick, I like Typhus' voice and perspective (and so does Ann. She says Hi, by the way). You're really making that part of the job easier. But please, please, please doublespace after periods, and put in a few more paragraph breaks! You're going to make me go blind! Now, if I can just get Pat to write Shemeska's journal... Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
MordeanGrey Posted July 19, 2006 Report Share Posted July 19, 2006 Re: [sigil Campaign] The Journal of Typhus I imagine it would be something like this... I dealt with a few more clueless mortals obsessed with their inconsequential lives and problems today and got them to agee to a job that will bring me even more money, power, and influence. Same as it ever was. -- Shemeska Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Walter Posted July 20, 2006 Report Share Posted July 20, 2006 Re: [sigil Campaign] The Journal of Typhus Dude, you're not gonna get any EP's for a journal entry like THAT! I want to hear motivation, emotion. Just how bad did Typhus really pi$$ her off? Better yet, how badly did he pi$$ off that other poor schmuck? Enough to try sticking a knife in his ribs? Or, what about Niren's journal? He's got to have interesting stuff to say. Or are you just waiting for Ann and I to write it for you? Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
MordeanGrey Posted July 20, 2006 Report Share Posted July 20, 2006 Re: [sigil Campaign] The Journal of Typhus I figure that Shemeska has about ten "irons in the fire" at any given time. It would take a very special job to get her full attention. Niren's or Ebon's journal would be very interesting. They are both professional assassins, although Ebon also spends time as a hunter for rare/dangerous creatures throughout the planes. You wouldn't see much pity or compassion in their journals, especially Ebon. She pretty much defines a "cold, hard bitch." Shemeska uses them as her most trusted lieutenants whenever a job has to be done "right." Hopefully the party avoids angering Shemeska to the point where she decides they need to be eliminated. Niren was the one who killed the previous owner (Viggo) of the Blackbird Tavern back when it was the Raven's Roost. (i.e.--Lex's character) Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
MordeanGrey Posted August 17, 2006 Report Share Posted August 17, 2006 Re: [sigil Campaign] The Journal of Typhus Update coming soon? !!! ;-) Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
MordeanGrey Posted August 18, 2006 Report Share Posted August 18, 2006 Re: [sigil Campaign] The Journal of Typhus [crickets] chirp, chirp, chirp [/crickets] Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Walter Posted August 18, 2006 Report Share Posted August 18, 2006 Re: [sigil Campaign] The Journal of Typhus Hey, I talked to him Wednesday (just before you bailed, biatch) and he's typing as fast as his little fingers can go on his meager breaks and lunch periods. Jeez, you'd think the guy had to work for a living... Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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