Neun: Following the witch's advice would lead the fire-loving dwarf to a rather large foundry/smithy, which was belching smoke. Within were a small horde of apprentices and a few older people who were clearly studying under the mastersmith. The dwarf in question was actually out front, cheerfully smoking something noxious from his
sweet axe-pipe, a pewter stein filled with something that closely resembled strong dwarven ale at his side, resting on an iron stand fashioned to resemble the god Malu.
Upon seeing the approach of his fellow elemental, the dwarf would grin.
"Hail, adventurer."***
Morgrod: It wasn't particularly hard to find the temple district - one merely had to look for the tall buildings. The largest three temples would border a square set with what was clearly cast-offs from the mine, as the street fairly shined, with thin gold veins spiderwebbed through the quartz, with large sidewalks made of granite. To the left was a stark, bare building that more closely resembled a fortress than a temple, with Shin's True Sigil carved and painted above the entrance - a black circle representing the sun with black, disconnected thorny protrusions making up the corona, each one separate from the others and the circle itself. On either side of the heavy gate were spiky black equilateral crosses with pentagrams attached to the ends, indicating that priests of Blood and Chaos resided within, while stylized claws at the top corners indicated Liagoran faithful were welcome.
Opposite it was a temple dedicated to Malu, which had more architectural flourishes, and an ornate fountain to either side of the stairs. Thanks to certain submerged glowing lights, the water had a red glow to it, looking rather like lava as steam rose and a certain sulfuric smell emerged. Above the door was a large clock, gears visible as it let out
ticks and
tocks.
Lastly, directly in front was a grand temple dedicated to the combined faiths of Coranthiir, Illeni, Vijer, and Zakai, covered with glowing gold True Sigils of each faith. This cathedral was perhaps the most impressive, with stained glass windows, statues of the gods overlooking the city, intricately-carved doors thrumming with magical wards, and the faint sound of chants from within, as well as white sacrificial smoke billowing from aesthetically-pleasing chimneys.
Other, lesser temples filled the space between these: a shrine dedicated to Bree and Timeus was sandwiched between the Decaric templefortress and the Corinthiian cathedral, while an Arohan garden bordered the gap between the Clockwork Basilica and the Cathedral. Just to the side of the Basilica was a curved, artificial body of saltwater, built large enough to accommodate the only wooden structure in the area: a large ship dedicated to Pellegrin, with a ship's bell ringing every minute, loud enough to drown out the noise of the Basilica's clock. Somehow, waves lapped the edge of the waterworks.
***
Tarana, Myrln, Nathalie: The group would make their way to the poorer part of town, downwind of the foundry currently being visited by Neun. The whole place looked ran-down and decayed, filled with grim-faced folk who had their hands on the hilts of crude weaponry, with assorted servant-looking types hustling and bustling from their homes to their places of work.
With Nathalie in the lead, they would come to a stop in front of what had once been a grand manor, but had clearly fallen into disrepair. Metal bolts held the structure intact, while crudely-mortared bricks blocked what had been windows. Outside, sitting on crumbling stairs, were various toughs, who paused in their card game long enough to look at Nathalie, grunt sullenly, and wave them inside.
After going through some halls, and taking the fourth door on the right, they would come to a surprisingly well-decorated study, filled with smoke. Inside was another game of chance, but those seated at this table had the look of serious, professional thieves. None of them so much as stirred to the newcomers, but everyone but Nathalie would have a sudden uncomfortable feeling as though they were being watched with intense scrutiny.
"Lady Rochelle."The woman sitting at the ornate desk at the far end of the room looked up to the group. A bit of a smile played about her face as she regarded the party.
"Nathalie.""These people are interested in joining our little group."[cult language=ON]
"Tarana is one of us. The Sidhe is not. There is profit out of this arrangement. You'll note that I remain alive, while our brother does not.""Did they kill him?""Them and their adventurer friends, indirectly. And the collectors decided they pay better, so we'll need to arrange with the Ingots to recruit for us.""Good, he deserved to die. We'll handle it later. Assure the collectors that they are relieved with our blessing provided we receive the silver price."[cult language=OFF]
"But perhaps they should speak for themselves, no?"A smile, and the witch went to join the group at the table, who budged over and dealt her a new hand.
"I understand that I have you lot to thank for eliminating our idiot brother. Sit, speak. Share a drink among friends."Rochelle, apparently a half-sister of Nathalie, indicated the chairs before her desk, eying the strangers with mild interest and some degree of respect. The last words were spoken in a tone that indicated equal parts command and request, while the word "friends" was loaded with irony.
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Topic: Adventuring Party, Act 1: A Tale Of Two Hamlets (Read 38180 times)