Post by Sire Halfblack on Aug 4, 2014 19:08:35 GMT
Orgrus IM 1002
As summer waned the citizens of Deci began to emerge in greater numbers, as the nights grew gradually longer. The narrow streets of the capitol were more silent than normal as despite the city’s unwholesome reputation it had always boasted a large number of entertainers but these had been taken en masse by Fade elsewhere and with the shorter hours of summer they had been glad of the work.
Cheapside suffered another gang war, this in itself was not unusual but tensions had been growing over the last year and without the attentions of the famous the gangs had slowly committed greater crimes until, seeing that no one stood in their way, began to expand their activities beyond their normal western turf to the richer quarters beyond. Even attacks on drow were uncommon when an accidental slaying resulted in no retaliation! One gang, the Straw Dogs, even daubed their name across the outer wall of the Poison Club and as the nights went past and no bodies appeared staked on the roof the youthful began to believe what they had always thought the old timers who normally kept them in line were too old to cope with the power of the gangs.
The Watch did its best to cope, officially, but they were not the sort of people to interfere in out-and-out warfare at the best of times and had only just managed to keep their heads down long enough to get through the Kallah schism without a bunch of kids with sharp knives appearing to make things difficult for them again!
Perhaps in answer to this, a temple was opened that would allow the normal citizens to claim some sort of sanctuary. It was apparently a Primal Church that offered its prayers to Jander Sunstar, whom it was explained had been absent on his ascension to a more deific status. The temple was a plain building surmounted by a simple icon, a mask made of many things, metal, wood and even a gleaming stone and it was in form that of a thin-faced creature whose eyes were empty but whose mouth stretched into a pointed smile.
“Jolly Jandar!” Called the hooded acolyte from the doorway.
The tribes that had fled from Ikhala and found themselves in Deci were also growing less common. Every week, more of them would set off south and had done so when the fall of Centaris came to their ears. It was not a good sign, it appeared, and those that had left plainly wanted to be as far from the north as was possible.
In counterpoint to this, a college was opened in the northern quarter. The owner having bought up four of the sloping houses that crowded the city, he had converted them to a seat of learning for the magical arts. Strangely, such learning did not seem to be restricted to darkness alone and indeed the college boasted a roster of blue, grey and earthen power. It was aimed at adventurers from the mercenary community since the excellent training it boasted was exchanged for small jobs that needed doing and in this way, a portion of the mercenaries were able to gain work that paid them in the dividend to which they were most attracted.
With the gangs running wild and the Watch at a loss as to what to do without strong leadership the city was once again an unsafe place. With the increase in bodies and a certain amount of trouble in Alguz, ghouls were seen prowling the shadows. Whilst they did an effective job of removing the chance for disease they did of course offer problems of their own. Some were even seen in the garb of Alguz and these seemed to flee at the first sight of anybody who garments contained the colour white.
So it was dark, so it was dangerous, it was Deci.
Jander, only recently returned from his exploration of the further worlds listened to the news even as he attended to a matter of outlawhood that had been brought to his attention. It was clear that his council was not being particularly active and whilst this was for the moment something only of mild concern he felt sure that as a matter of anguish it would multiply in a month or so…
It was true that his caravan would arrive in Trollsville in a couple of weeks but so far he had received no news from the boys that he had sent hunting herds in the north. This was a matter of greater concern since either they had been killed, captured or, quite possibly, gotten themselves lost in the vastness of the North.
Deciding that he had the time to catch up on other local matters, Jander chose the garb that would enable him to travel the streets in less noteworthy fashion and headed towards Cheapside and the shop of Ulis Tamary.
Anath was already there when Sunstar arrived, having shucked off the heavy cloak before entering the Governor of Deci nodded to his councillor and took the chair that was offered to him whilst Ulis stared intently at a boiling potion that sat on the neat, rosewood table between the three men.
“Poison?” Jander asked, frowning at the brown liquid.
“Tea,” Ulis explained and lifted the flask from the spirit burner and added a measure to three, delicate cups one of which he handed to each of his guests whilst the last he kept for himself.
Anath smiled as he took out a pair of Jack Flashblade’s trousers. He lay the yellow cloth on the table before him, having moved his cup aside to do so.
“I thought these might be useful to you?”
“Perhaps.” Ulis admitted. “Especially if the scoundrel tries to kill Fade again.”
“Again?” Jander leant forward.
“Indeed, yes.” Ulis needlessly smoothed his straight, grey hair with a long-fingered hand. “Flashblade kidnapped Fade and then came here to kill him, I as well obviously. Fade however then went on to solve the Kallah schism and ensured the right man took the top-chair. Good lad you’ve got there, Mr. Sunstar.”
“Oh, yes, right.” Jander nodded pleased that some of his subordinates had plainly been doing their job after all.
“A Shame about the Poison Club.”
It was Anath who looked confused at this: “I’m sorry?”
“The Poison Club. It hasn’t opened for over a month now? I presume there is some reason for that. Of course I should know but whenever I’ve tried to have a peek I’ve found that the building is not actually a part of the city. Or even possibly Primus. Nothing new but there you have it… milk?”
“Ah, yes.” Anath nodded. “Thank you.”
“And so many strange people in the city at the moment. A pair I can’t see at all, I only know they’re here at all because my jolly little followers told me about them. Anyway, splendid of you to come and see me. I don’t get to talk to people as much as I used to, especially since Leofric left Trollsville and Mr. Stooks fulfilled his duties as City-Spirit. I do so hope the next one is as polite a young man.”
“Right.” Said Anath in a I-knew-that sort of way.
“Is there anything else we need to know about, about the city I mean?” Jander finished his tea and placed the cup back on the table before him.
Ulis thought carefully: “The tribals are going to Eartholme? There’s no entertainment and few luxuries to be had? The conflict between the City-Spirits is at an end?”
“I see,” Jander nodded. “I’ll need a while to settle in but believe me, soon there’s going to a shake-up around here!”
“Oh goody,” Ulis rose to show his guests out. “Drop by anytime.”
*
The darkness went unnoticed in the city. It slithered through alleyway and climbed the wall of the blackened grain house that had been long burnt down by the leader of the ghouls that had briefly savaged the city more than two years past. The soot ingrained in the walls blended the darkness perfectly as it seeped onto the rooftops and moved like a slowed river towards the light that it sought.
There were sounds of breathing within the darkness, and shapes, and scents that were bitter to those that might have caught their faint tang. But there was no one on the roof to hear, see or smell them and the darkness moved on.
The darkness saw little of the world about it for it dwelt not in the waking world of men as it hunted. It was true that there was physicality to it but it had learnt much from its last feeding but with the knowledge had come a dulling of the sharp intelligence. Power gave instinct and instinct denied thought. On, on it flowed.
Lisl Steep dried herself on the dirty scrap of torn cloak that served as a towel and made ready for the visit of her next patron. Her services were short-lived things and left the scent of sweat and bitter desire upon her. She had always lived in Deci, it was her whole world. She didn’t even scream as the darkness came to her with sharp claws and teeth that glittered like dying stars in the last night of the world.
The darkness moved on. The feeding had not come close to satisfying it for it could no longer find sustenance in such dry, cheap fare.
Anders Strop was a round man. His heavy head sat atop his heavy body, supported on barely by the two thick legs that would one day soon protest only once more at having to carry the Merchants bulk. He dressed well, even in the city where wealth meant an early death for he spread his money widely and it was known that a contract rested with a certain Nobleman to give to the city if he ever fell.
The greed dripped from the darkened maw, a snack that barely touched its aching belly. The others of its kind tore apart the grotesquely fat man and one wore his skin like a cloak but the humour was as dust in their jaws and still the darkness moved onwards.
Naiym was a curiosity in Deci. He had seen the death of worlds it was said and moved away. He was a sorcerer it was thought and his long browed head and glittering silvery hair spoke of some supernatural power. He turned with a frown as the lamp in his room dimmed and then was gone.
“I see.” He smiled and raised his hand to banish the evil with a flick of his hand but even as he let the words spill to the air he felt that it was to no avail and the darkness gorged itself upon his very soul, tore apart his body that faded even as the spirit fled and the mind that had seen and committed so much flared only briefly in the darkness.
Ahhhhh… tasty. The darkness said.
*
In the north the Smith put down the food that he had gathered. His two minds fought against the sudden lack of knowledge. His great arms came upwards to mirror his scream as the man who was two men shuddered, fell to the early snow and died.
Across the sky a twisting coruscation of light burst suddenly as that which was within him from beyond Primus, that which had made him more than he had been, that which had forced him into slumber, passed to where it was that such power went when it was gone… gone… gone… from the world.
*
Mojo Reign walked beside his brother. Deci was a place that suited them well for it was a dark city, far from the direct influence of Halgar and even if its Governor was a Gold Drave, his councillors were not typical of the companions that such a person would attract.
“This is Bhaal’s city,” Mojo explained, “so many possibilities. I feel sure that a place could be found for you?”
Claudious shook his head. The large man had earlier been mistaken for a common citizen by one of the many youthful gangs that had roved from their haunts in Cheapside but as he had turned upon them, spirits dripping near visible from his outstretched fingers, the gang had fled. The story of the wild-eyed man had spread amongst the Cheapsiders and he had not suffered such an indignity again.
Mojo, conversely, had suffered no such problems. The essence of Bhaal was stronger in the city than he had felt anywhere and he knew that only a year ago the murderous god had come close to taking over the settlement. Father had killed child, son had murdered sister the darkness that lay within the citizens had been brought to the surface in a bubbling froth whose spittle had touched the whole city.
Of late, even the Kallah had fought. The Kallah Lord had decreed that the City Spirit had not been ‘Deci’ enough and a schism had developed. It was hardly a secret that the Spirit was held within the flesh of a man called Ulis Tamary. An alchemist, Tamary lived and worked in Cheapside, the worst quarter of the settlement and it was widely known that despite the disparity that lay between Vern and Argoth, none of the heroes that made the city there on would hear a word said against the small, neatly dressed Spirit.
But for now only the youthful caused trouble and if that was something of an affliction to the citizens, to people such as Claudious and Mojo it was nothing that would interfere with their day. Seeking to find information of one form or another they had met outside the famous Poison Club only to find the doors shut and the windows boarded up.
The Club was the home of Don Argoth and many considered that the Don really ran the settlement. Of the Don though, little had been seen for a long, long time. Despite the knowledge each of the wanderers had of Deci, both were aware that there was a great deal that was beyond the realm of common knowledge. They needed answers.
“The Master is in me.” Claudious breathed.
“Indeed.” Mojo nodded. “All this walking has given me a thirst. Shall we?”
Claudious looked at where his brother indicated, the large tavern called the Braided Fox. It was a popular hangout for mercenaries since so much work could be picked up there and, despite whatever else prevailed in the settlement, it had never once been the scene of a serious fight. No one burgled the large Inn, no one robbed outside its door. The Braided Fox was neutral turf, even if no one was particularly sure why this should be.
Inside, the pair found a table and ordered their choices from a stern looking woman who came over to take their order. The ‘Fox was well built, the timbers of its frame of varying shades that suggested they had come from some other building, most likely many such buildings. The stone that fronted them was equally aged and to the experienced eyes of Claudious and Mojo the tavern had the look of a fortress that had been taken down, stone by stone, and rebuilt in its present form. The ale when it arrived was thick, rich and unwatered, unusual in Deci.
The clientele were a mix of traders, mercenaries and locals. One man in particular seemed to take a great interest in them both until finally he picked up the bottle from which he was sipping and came over to join them. He was not much beyond youth himself and the glossy garments that had looked so fine from afar were now revealed to be stitched from a series of small patches of dark, short-haired fur.
“You gentlemen new to town?” He asked with an open-faced smile.
“No.” Claudious shook his head.
“But looking for help?”
“Maybe,” Mojo shrugged, “perhaps not. Why do you ask?”
The young man laughed and pressed the fingers of his beringed left hand to his furred tunic. “I,” he announced with some gravity, “am Catskinner. Information broker, helpful friend and general local guide. At present circumstances find me temporarily low on funds. Therefore, would either of you fine gentlemen need to know anything? Perhaps even a little help? Ask and it shall be done? Rates very reasonable.”
By Alan Morgan (CI4V9)