Reunited with the others Tarkus listens as Quintus and Sarm describe what they know about vampires. He makes a point to purchase and pack some garlic...just to be on the safe side. Before they set off he asks Sarm and Suvne if they want to come along to the meeting or hang back.
((I'm just waiting to figure out who exactly is attending the meeting, because it could matter a great deal for the scene. I know the idea was put forth to just have Tarkus and Val go, so I need input on whether Quintus, Sarm, and/or Suvne are tagging along))
Quintus suggests just Val and Tarkus go as planned... while the rest hang back and watch with the aid of Scry. If anything goes wrong they will know and can move in quickly, even teleporting if they have to. They will even be able to communicate with the Message spell(which Quintus totally bought last night)... assuming it doesn't fail when cast through scrying.
If Quintus can make use of scrying to view the meeting as though he was there and act as emergency extraction without putting himself at risk, Val is all for it.
"It seems we're in agreement. I do the talking, Tarkus does the menacing, Quintus hangs back with Sarm and Suvne, and maybe some other agents of Pelor if they don't mind Quintus's skin condition and direct line of communication with their deity's sworn enemy."
With a plan formulated, Sarm, Suvne, and Quintus (who would be required to stow the Hand of Vecna away in his pack) go back inside the Temple of Pelor and fill the denizens in on what's going to happen; meanwhile, Val and Tarkus begin the two-hour walk back to Lazav's Alchemical Marketplace.
At the agreed-upon time, Quintus casts Scrying while Val and Tarkus simultaneously enter the establishment. Quintus's spell goes off as planned (though Val and Tarkus have no idea whether it worked or not on their end), and together, he, Sarm, Suvne, and Amriel gaze into the mirror; Amriel tries (and fails) to mask his disgust at witnessing the foul enterprise in action.
While wandering through the marketplace, no one so much as acknowledges Val or Tarkus, and they successfully reach the bar unnoticed. The half-devil barkeep also doesn't recognize them at first, but he catches on relatively quickly. "Smart," he says. "Come with me." He abandons his post at the bar and leads Val and Tarkus to a nondescript door in the back of the building, obviously not meant for patrons to go through. He unlocks it, and steps through, holding it open for the pair to follow.
The inside of the room is very plain; it has only two tables and some chairs. It's likely meant as some sort of break room for the workers, but no one seems to be on break right now.
Instead, in the center of the room is a living, three-dimensional shadow.
He (or she?) is entirely, solidly black, with no protruding features. All that's visible is the outline of its body. It is shaped like a humanoid, and is approximately Tarkus's height.
"My friend wishes to remain nameless," the half-devil barkeep explains. "I told him about your problem, and he wants to help. Excuse me while I get back to work." The half-devil leaves the room.
"I will make this brief." The figure's voice is impossibly Deep and distorted, as though his Throat is twisted in knots. "I will tell you where a portal to Ravenloft is, and I will give you the key required to activate it. You have two options. You will either give me 100,000 gold, or you will perform a service for me. In five days' time, at exactly 1600 hours, I require the Lady of Pain's caravan to pass through the street corner of Thistledown and Havengul. If you fulfill your part of the requirements, the key will be brought to you.
"The location of the portal is free, as it will be useless to you without the key. Far across the city, on Coralheim Avenue, you will find an establishment owned, operated, and patronized entirely by demons. In the basement of this establishment is a door to a cage. When properly unlocked, that door will lead you to Ravenloft.
"I cannot tell you how to redirect the Lady of Pain's caravan because I do not know myself. This is part of the service you are providing to me. I also will not tell you why I require it, because that is my business and my business alone. If you choose to pay in gold, we will arrange a meet at this bar when you have procured the funds."
After Val and Tarkus give their answer, the figure wordlessly disappears., leaving the duo alone in the back room.
Sarm, Quintus, and Suvne see only an empty room through the mirror. They hear and see the barkeep introduce an associate, and it seems like Val and Tarkus are looking at someone, but whoever it is is either invisible, protected from divination magic, or projecting an image that can't be detected by it.
Val takes comfort that no one in this place seems to pay him and Tarkus any mind. It's actually incredibly self-centered of him to expect otherwise, he realizes. While he might be part of the fulcrum upon which the fate of the multiverse hinges upon in his own plane of existence, here purveyors of evil and dark arts have their own considerations to attend to. Machinations that don't involve Val in the slightest.
The half-devil bartender seems amenable enough -- Val will never take offense at being called "smart" -- despite his parentage, and Val accompanies him to a small, unadorned, but not unoccupied room. He isn't entirely certain what to make of their contact here, but for the moment the being isn't acting overtly hostile, so this is merely a highly unconventional business transaction.
"So you can't tell us why you want this or how to do it -- fair enough, the first is immaterial, the latter would insult my creativity -- but is there anything about the target that you can disclose? Anyone you can point is to who might know the current schedule?"
The figure is silent for a moment. "The tower in the center of the city is where the Watchers do their surveillance for the Lady of Pain," he says with just a hint of irritation. "The schedule is known only to them, and to the drivers of her carriage. Do you require further hand-holding before our meeting is concluded?"
Nodding at the arrangements with the relic crew, Tarkus takes the lead as he and Val leave the others at the seminary. Putting a dour look upon his face as they head into the dark market, the half-orc marches briskly toward the same bar with the devilish bartender that was present before. Having finally recognized him and Val, he follow into the empty room, a raised eyebrow of curiosity breaking through his stern countenance.
- - -
Confronted with what appeared at first to be an empty room he soon sees a raised shadow his size move unnaturally against the light. Reaching back reflexively to palm the hilt of his greataxe, he relaxes his grip and crosses his arms as the barkeep explains his client is masking his appearance to remain hidden. He grunts to himself and listens to what the mysterious shadow has to say.
Tarkus follows along, mentally grappling with what they are being asked. Construct of magicks...lot of gold or...lady of pain? Frowning, he decides to let Val do the talking but remains highly suspicious of getting unnecessarily involved with a feared and named demi-god. As the shadowy figure grows frustrated, Tarkus shakes his head and nods in a conciliatory manner.
While watching the scry, Sarm says to the rest that are watching with him, "I find it incredibly difficult to have a positive outlook on the event when they hide anything from us like this. We have had bad dealings with illusions enough."
((We will assume that Val had no further questions for the mysterious figure, and that the figure vanished. The party can reunite wherever they agreed upon - probably at the temple - and discuss their next move))
Val simply shrugs at his shadowy patron's insulting words and tone. "This job is clearly of great importance to you and great peril to us. Seems prudent be well informed, if you think such knowledge is not requisite to your designs, then why employ us at all? We'll let you know what we decide. Come on, Tarkus. We're done here."
Rejoining the rest of the group at Quintus' scrying party, Val is scarcely surprised that they were only privy to one half the conversation. "I was standing in the same room as them, and even I felt that we were communicating over some distance. Good news is, he or she freely gave up the location of a gateway to Ravenloft. Bad news is that it's useless without a key, which our mysterious benefactor is dangling before us like a carrot on a stick. It's either for sale at one hundred thousand gold pieces, or we need to ensure the Lady of Pain's procession is at a certain time and place five days hence.
Sarm lets out a tired sigh, "At least it was not a trap. What do you mean then.. do they wish us to defeat the Lady of Pain, or are you implying something else?" Both Sarm and the player controlling him aren't sure what Val means by procession.
Tarkus shakes his head. "No. Shadow want Lady's cart at certain spot at right time." Scratching his chin he is lets out a defeated sigh of his own "Mention 'watchers' control Lady route in city. Other information we not know. Dangerous and hard to see path ahead."
Quintus shakes his head, "Even if we were stupid enough to want to do that, I don't even know what they are talking about... What are watchers? How do we get to this 'certain spot', much less get the Lady there? And assuming we succeed at doing all this, once they do whatever they plan to do, we could suddenly find ourselves enemies of the Lady. Not a position I want to be in... Did you learn anything while talking to that guy, that we might be able to use to track him down? This guy will probably be prepared for anything we could plan, but I'd still much rather piss him off."
((I am unhiding the spoilered text above because I think it was probably a practical mistake to hide half of the conversation from half of the party. Stylistically I thought it might be interesting but I think it just got in the way. Lesson learned for next time. Quintus and Sarm, just assume that the entire conversation was relayed back to you in full))
"I personally do not wish to be in the servitude of a vague third party that could result in a disaster for this.. Thistletown and Havengul. If we were truly helping to overthrow the Lady of Pain, then we would not have been asked to pay gold."
Quintus sighs "Agreed, but unfortunately we have no other leads. And from the sounds of it, there are very few other options for getting into Ravenloft. Perhaps we should go check out these watchers and see if what they wants us to do is even possible. Then while we wait for the scheduled time and day, we can look for other options, maybe even finding a way to raise all that money they are asking for."
Sarm suggests, "We should at least learn what is so important about the location we were asked to direct the Lady of Pain to, and the location she is being turned away from, so that we have a better understanding of the figure's motive."
Val nods in agreement with both Quintus and Sarm. "I don't much like it, but I don't see any alternative. We should split up, one group to case this street corner and see if we can determine its importance, another to learn about the Watchers and if at all possible discern the Lady's route. That way, we can achieve some small measure of compartmentalization. Sarm's new friends of Pelor's fan club may have some intel we can use as well."
Amriel seems to be biting his tongue, merely listening as the party strategizes... but at Val's mention of Pelor's fan club, he speaks up. "I can tell you now that the Lady of Pain frightens me. Even Pelor himself acknowledges that here in Sigil, she is the supreme authority, and would be able to successfully best the Sun God in combat.
"She does not seek worship, however; she only seeks to maintain the status quo here in Sigil. If this is some bizarre attempt on her life, I would be very surprised, because as far as I've ever known, she is immortal and indestructible here. My inclination is that this mysterious figure intends to redirect her for some other unknown purpose.
"I know those streets only by name, and have never ventured on them myself; I rarely leave the confines of the Temple. I can't recall anything of note about that particular corner, but it is very possible that my information is outdated.
"Journeying through the city can be a taxing experience; there is much ground to cover. Allow us to provide you flying pegasus mounts to aid your travels around the city. As soon as you are ready to leave, I shall summon them for you."
At the mention of pegasi, Suvne's face lights up - which is a very rare sight. "I've wanted to see a pegasus up close since I was a little girl," she says with childlike wonder, a half octave higher than her normal speaking voice. After a moment, she regains her composure and looks to Sarm, then to the rest of the party. "Lord Val and Lord Quintus, if I may... you two seem better suited toward stealth; Lord Sarm, Lord Tarkus, and I tend to stand out. Shall the three of us investigate the street corner, while the two of you keep a low profile and look toward the Tower?"
Though it is rare for Suvne to take the initiative like this, it's not hard to figure out that she wants to sort this out as soon as possible so she can hurry up and ride a pegasus.
Though it is rare for Suvne to take the initiative like this, it's not hard to figure out that she wants to sort this out as soon as possible so she can hurry up and ride a pegasus.
Tarkus arches his brow in surprise at Suvne's uncharacteristic outspokenness regarding the issue at hand, but smiles and nods in approval of her plan. Clasping the paladin on the shoulder he speaks in a quiet voice to the group. "Do not wish trifle with Lady whom God of Light shrinks from...but info needed either way." Pausing as Amriel offers words of wisdom and assistance, the Half-Orc breathes slowly, his eyes narrowed in concentration as a course of action begins to take shape.
Shaking his head he finds himself agreeing with the Angel as well. "We not want to be catched, as Val say, 'holding bag' if request is truly action against Lady of Pain." At the mention of pegusi, Tarkus notes Suvne's reaction and is similarly pleased. He removes his gauntlet and offers his bare hand to the Angel in a sign of thanks. "Good to know light shine even in strangest of places."
Val considers Amriel's words carefully. "Well, I can't speak for which deity would come out on top in a fight. It scarcely matters at our level, a god is a god. And our shadowy employer doesn't strike me as a god. Powerful? Certainly. But still concerned with material gain. After all, what would a god want with a starship that much gold? No, whatever game is being played here doesn't involve assassination, though I should hardly think it involves altruism either.
"Redirecting a mark is usually a trivial affair, though in full disclosure I've never attempted it on a goddess. Still, it's manageable while minimizing our exposure, but not without knowing the planned route. We need to know what these Watchers know, so we're going to have to brave making some kind of approach on their tower."
Val is somewhat taken aback by Suvne's eagerness, very uncharacteristic of the usually taciturn paladin. "I'm no lord, Suvne, but you're probably on the money there. Quintus' and my own skill sets are probably best suited for not drawing attention to ourselves. Though if that fleabag map vendor has the right of it, we might be advised to seek out that shop he tried to steer me towards."
Holding his hand up to halt potential interruption. "Yes, I know, I called it a crutch, an insult to the craft, etc. Well, in any case where I'm attempting to deceive a goddess and her doubtlessly divinely endowed minions, I'm flexible enough to make exceptions."
Sarm considers what is said, and nods thoughtfully, "Sometimes battles must be chosen carefully, and my greater mission is to retrieve the Rod of Pelor, not to fight every being I come across in my wake upon this plane. It frustrates me that I keep needing to make unnecessary enemies on others' behalf, especially the Lady of Pain said to be so impossibly powerful."
Suvne's sudden pleasure in receiving the Pegasus catches him more by surprise, so much that it doesn't even register that he himself has received a great magical beast so revered. One that fact finally dawns on him, he has to ask in clarification with hesitation in his tone, "Pegasus... The.. flying horse?" He comes to realize that he will be flying, and doesn't know how well he will take it. It doesn't help that he only knows the very basics of riding a horse.
Once Suvne states her plan, Sarm nods quickly, still less than eager to be high up in altitude, "Y-yes. That sounds reasonable."
((Finally, my one point in the Ride skill pays off!))
Quintus turns to Val and asks, "Val, you know anything about using magic devices, wands in particular? If not, we could pick up a few potions of invisibility for you... assuming these Watchers can't see invisibility. I'll probably pick up something that will allows us to communicate silently as well."
While the Pegasus will be useful, it totally doesn't interest Quintus beyond that and he won't give his a silly name like Rainbow Dash or anything like that... Nope, not at all. It probably already has a name anyways.
Amriel leads the party upstairs to a balcony, which gives easy access to the roof. On the roof, the angel raises his arms in a showy spectacle as he channels the powers of Pelor to summon five celestial pegasi, silvery-white with feathered wings sprouting from their sides. Their hooves clack against the shingles of the roof. They are already outfitted with saddles and other riding gear.
"Remember that these wonderful creatures are not ordinary summoned beasts. I have not conjured them from nothing; I've brought them here directly from the Astral Sea, and they will not return until I take them back myself. Though they do not speak, they are every bit as intelligent as you and I, so please treat them with respect."
The pegasi acknowledge the party silently but respectfully; they seem a little off-put by Quintus, but they are not unfriendly.
Equipped with reasonably-detailed maps that will get the party where they need to go, they split into two teams. Val and Quintus are headed for the location recommended by the Khajit; after circling around the area for a bit, they find an empty lot in which to safely land their mounts, and walk a short distance to find the establishment.
The entrance and storefront are small, narrow, and easy to miss; there is no sign, and it's likely that no one passing by has any idea that it's there. Val is no stranger to clandestine establishments such as this, however, and spots it without much trouble.
Inside, a slight elven female with most of her face covered tends to the counter. She nods to Val and Quintus, and uses her arms to gesture toward the various goods available.
On hand is an impressive array of magical equipment and tools, perfectly tailored toward the needs of a stealthy operator. Cloaks of invisibility, potions and scrolls of invisibility of all caster levels, various implements of silence and of disguise, and anything else a would-be thief could ask for is on hand... at a price.
((All of the stuff Quintus mentioned is on hand at book price))
Suvne doesn't even try to suppress her joy and amazement when the winged horses spring forth from the aether onto the roof of the temple. She, being an experienced rider, effortlessly mounts the creature and takes to the air immediately, circling overhead as she waits for Tarkus and Sarm to get airborne.
The street corner in question is significantly further away than Val and Quintus's first stop, and even with the speed boost provided by flying, it still takes hours to get there. During the journey, the party passes numerous other flying creatures, some ridden by humanoids and some independent; these include griffins, wyverns, giant lemurs, oversized bats, and even a few dragons; regardless of color, the dragons don't seem to even acknowledge the party.
From this height, as this half of the party continues on, far off in the distance, the edge of the city becomes visible. It seems that, although this place is absolutely enormous for a city, it certainly does not go on forever; there is a tall wall around the edge of the entire city, and beyond that is nothing but the sky. It seems as though Sigil resides on a flat island of sorts, in the middle of a red, limitless void.
As the sky begins to grow a much darker red, signifying the onset of night in Sigil, they reach their destination.
The corner of Thistledown and Havengul is a large and busy intersection; both streets are very wide at this point, and there are numerous people passing through, even as the day grows shorter. Even having never actually seen the Lady of Pain's caravan, it seems reasonable that it could easily pass through here.
There does not seem to be anything special about this intersection, however. There are businesses situated on each of the four corners: a large food market, an upscale vacation resort that takes up an entire block, an apartment building, and a shorter structure that's home to numerous specialty shops and their storefronts. There are no curbside vendors around here.
Sarm can only hope to cling securely to the steed that doesn't hesitate to carry him through the air at its own will. His pegasus would follow Suvne's lead. He clearly has enough time to get used to being in the air at least.
Seeing others in flight removes any sense of solitude that he might have had here in Sigil, realizing that even up in the high altitudes they are just ants in a larger society. At the same time it's nice to neither be revered as great heroes nor under the hand glass of suspicion.
As the pegasi draw close to allow the party to notice the signs posted indicating the streets, Thistledown and Havengul, Sarm is surprised that, as usual, this place is not what he expected. Perhaps it's because of the shady dealings with a shadowy figure in a bar, but he was expecting something more like a set of slums that the Lady of Pain would not care to visit. Instead, it seems like a successful part of the city where wealth is rewarded.
Whenever he finds some opportunity to speak to Tarkus and Suvne, he'll ask, "I am even more confused upon seeing the intended destination. What could possibly happen here of great importance that the Lady of Pain must be here?"
Val shakes his head in answer to Quintus' question. "No, magic was Valerie's specialty, I'm strictly mundane work. I'll leave the assessment of our options up to you when we get there, but the more foolproof a method we can get, the better."
---
Traveling up to the roof with Amriel, Val is forced to shield his eyes from the glorious light that momentarily threatens to blind him as the pegasi traverse the planes to arrive in Sigil. They seem pleasant enough creatures, and Val is secretly pleased that they're alleged to be as intelligent as any other person, because he is not much of a rider.
Plus, he has no idea where he's going.
"We're trying to get here," he says, showing the map to his chosen mount and tapping the circles location with outstretched finger. The animal seeming gives the equine equivalent of a nod of understanding, accompanying a grunt of affirmation as it turns to present it's stirrups to Val. "In Ruby Keep, you could get anywhere on foot or by hired cab, there was never any call to learn horsemanship," he explains as he awkwardly mounts the patient animal.
Reins in hand, he shakes them gently. "Uh... Yip yip?" He's not entirely sure, but he thinks he sees the winged horse's eyes roll before leaping skyward, thrusting Val's stomach into his feet as it ascends at impossible speed in an upward spiral.
Fortunately, the magical animal reaches its cruising altitude before Val regurgitates every meal he's had in the past week, and takes a heading in what Val assumes is the direction of their destination. Below him, the city of Sigil spreads out in miniature from horizon to horizon beneath the turbulent red dome of a sky. "Do you suppose it really goes on forever," he shouts above the howling wind of their airborne transit, "or does it perhaps just loop back upon itself like some great urban Möbius strip?"
If the pegasus heard him, or if it had an opinion on the nature if Sigil, it gave no sign.
In short order, they seemingly reached their destination, as indicated by the astral animal performing its take off maneuver in reverse, descending with great rapidity in a tight corkscrew into an empty lot, yet alighting upon the ground with a feather's touch. Val dismounts as awkwardly as he climbed up in the first place, and pats the animal on its neck. "Well done, uh... Whatever your name may be. Dreadfully sorry, but I'm afraid I don't speak, er... Horse."
Awkward-small-talk-with-horse-time having concluded, Val easily points out the establishment they seek to Quintus. "These places always have the eternal conundrum; they don't want anybody to know they're there, but still need to do business with someone. Well then, let's see what they've got."
Entering the shop, he nods in silent greeting to the masked elf proprietor as he peruses the wares for sale. Making a list of desirable qualities in what they're looking for, he ticks them off on his fingers as he relays them to Quintus. "Invisibility and silence. Very helpful, but we need something potent enough that it won't fail when we need it. I once spent nine and a half hours in a closet when a mark returned home unexpectedly, we should plan as though something like that could happen again.
"Disguise. Not quite as useful, but still handy. Fortunately, I've still got this handy trinket you gave me, so I think we've got that covered. Anything that might augment the effect or duration would be welcome, though.
"Concealment. That cat fellow made a show of being able to pick out my cloak. I can always take that off, but we should take pains to try and sect methods with a small footprint, as it were."
His list completed, Val sighs heavily. "Naturally, I expect the qualities of being powerful and undetectable yet affordable to be in diametric opposition..."
((DeadPheonix is 20% cooler than you guys. Also I can't help but feel like I'm writing fan fiction in describing the mounts. Awkward-small-talk-with-horse-time is hilarious.))
Tarkus stares in wonderment at the summoning of the pegasi steeds. Hardly listening to the angel explain he approaches one slowly and reaches a tentative hand to stroke its majestic wings. As the creature responds positively, Tarkus mounts up and pats gently it on the neck. Remembering it is more intelligent than a regular beast of burden he whispers his thanks.
Holding tight, his breath is almost taken as the creature takes off, its wings unfurling to their full length. The air whips past his face as the pegasus beats its wings powerfully, the tower where they took off from becoming smaller and smaller as they soar into the red sky.
- - -
Once they reach their destination, Tarkus follows to where Sarm and Suvne have ridden. "Did you see dragon?" he inquires as they trot along the street. Getting down to business he nods in response to Sarm. "Yes, street seem plain. Only part different be location near out wall of city." Furrowing his brow he can't help but wonder what purpose this all serves. Trying to busy himself, he looks to the different buildings in the district and decides to check out the small cluster that house what appear to be a collection of specialty shops.
Rolls his eyes at the racist Pegasus, then wonders if undead is a race... They probably count as one around here at least. Anyways, he hops on with little worry as he has done the flying thing a few times before himself and learned how to ride back when he first got his phantom steed spell(which will be able to walk on air a few levels, and eventually fly!), so this is really no big deal and certainly not the most awesome moment of his (un)life.
Quintus picks up a wand of invisibility and ponders for a moment "...Naw." then grabs a couple(8 maybe) potions of invisibility instead. He proceeds to ask the lady at the counter about items that provide silencing effects(are potions/oils of silence a thing? I'm not completely sure, though as far as i know they should be able to be made into potions...) and if they carry any scrolls of Telepathic Bond.
Sarm nods, "Yes. I feel luck has brought fortune that they did not see us as any annoyance." Listening to Tarkus' words, he nods, and follows him to the collection of specialty shops.
((Potions of Silence are indeed a thing (though an oil would probably make more sense flavor-wise, so we'll say it's an oil that has to be applied), and the shop also has scrolls of Telepathic Bond available - again, it's all at book price. Going to move you guys along rather than linger at the shop; all transactions happen without a hitch))
After Val and Quintus buy up everything they think they'll need for their mission, they go back to where their pegasi were parked, just in time to witness a shabbily-dressed kobold attempting to mount one of them. The assailed pegasus promptly rears up and delivers a swift kick to the side of the kobold's head - not hard enough to cause any permanent damage, but enough to send the small furry creature reeling; the moment that the stunning effect of hoof-to-face wears off, the creature scampers off into the streets and disappears in the busy crowd. The pegasi look entirely unperturbed, and are ready to go as soon as Val and Quintus are.
After flying for approximately two hours, a structure that is quite obviously the Watchers' Tower comes into view in the distance. Dwarfing any other structure yet seen in the city, even from this distance it's safe to say that it's the tallest thing either of the party members have ever seen; it must run at least a half-mile into the sky.
Made of bricks of stone, the tower has a four-sided, square base, and at the base it spans two entire blocks in every direction, getting gradually thinner the further up it goes. It seems to be placed in the very thick of things; it is surrounded by buildings of myriad shapes and sizes, just like the rest of the city.
The pegasi land a few blocks away, finding a safe alcove for them to remain while Val and Quintus continue their reconnaissance on foot.
The closer they get to the tower, the more apparent it becomes that the people here have become desensitized to it; hardly anyone even pauses to look at it, and there is no effort made to keep people away from its walls; a sidewalk runs along said walls in each direction.
Some basic scouting reveals that there are two entrances on each of the four walls of the tower, and each entrance is flanked by two large, burly, anthropomorphic rhinoceri. They are wearing chainshirts and armored leggings, but sport no helmets, and have heads shaped exactly like a normal rhinoceros's - complete with a very mean and nasty horn, which seems to be coated in metal, including the sharpened tip. Each is about seven feet tall, with shoulders abnormally broad even for that height. They wield no visible weapons (apart from the horn, of course), and their job appears to be "look imposing."
Every now and then, some people trickle in and out of the ten-foot-tall metal doors; everyone who enters, presents papers to the guards first, and the guards open the doors. Roughly two-thirds of those seen entering and leaving are either gnomes or halflings, with the rest comprised of disparate medium-sized races (none as big as the guards, and all would have a difficult time opening the doors on their own).
All of this scouting and casing requires time, and after enough has passed to complete the assessment of the outside of the facility, the sky is beginning to get just slightly darker.
------------
Suvne follows Sarm and Tarkus toward the cluster of shops. At first glance, there doesn't seem to be anything special about them; there are some interesting-looking restaurants, one blacksmith's shop, a fruit-and-vegetable vendor, and one shop that appears to sell random small items of convenience. None are overly fancy or extravagant, and are even perhaps a little on the run-down side, but at first blush there doesn't seem to be anything here.
Perception DC 15 (you can try this untrained)
Peering into the convenience store, you notice that this place is particularly run-down, and the shelves are very sparsely stocked; not much care seems to have gone into maintaining this place. That's why it's curious that the apparent proprietor of this establishment is dressed in the garb of nobles - very expensive, and bordering on formal ware. This man looks like a goblin, except that he is the height of an average human, and has uncannily good posture for his race.
Walking through the throng of shops with Sarm, Tarkus passes by with pained self-discipline several restaurants and a grocer. Ever since donning his ring of sustenance he hasn't needed any tangible food, but his stomach and taste buds miss the hedonistic pleasure of it. Moving along he finds nothing of interest and finally stops in frustration outside the ordinary-looking convenience shop.
"What is purpose here?!" Tarkus grumbles, clenching his fist in frustration. "Nothing special at all. Every shop here have same noble type. Last place even barely stocked and run dow-" Stopping mid-speech, Tarkus lets his words hang and closes his eyes as the small metaphorical hamster in his brain struggles to catch up. Just as suddenly his eyes flash back open as comes upon inspiration.
"Last shop seem suspicious. Barely stock and broken but rich owner. Look too proper also too tall for goblin." Narrowing his eyes he gestures for Sarm to follow him as he turns back to re-examine the shop and its owner.
As the sky begins to darken, Val taps Quintus on the shoulder. "We should probably be getting back to the others," he says. "We're probably on the cusp of the end of business for the tower, if we attempt an infiltration now, I could get stuck in there overnight. I'll try and get in tomorrow, but given the size of this place, I may need a couple days of searching..."
As the heavily-armored half of the party enters Flarg's Convenience Store, the well-dressed goblin behind the counter - Flarg, presumably - is seated at a table with a large stack of papers; he seems to be doing some sort of bookkeeping. He does not look up from what he's doing, but the pointed ears atop his head visibly perk up and he hesitates for just a moment, as though he's listening for something. When he doesn't hear it, he says nothing and continues adding and subtracting figures, completely failing to acknowledge the party at all.
Once inside, it's striking exactly how empty the shelves are in this place, and a cursory examination of the few goods on display finds them to be severely out of date; flowers are wilted, fruit partially rotted, and inkwell-and-feather sets are long dried out.
If you stay in the shop for long enough without attempting to speak to the goblin, you can see him tense up, as though he's getting annoyed by your continued presence, but he still continues to meet your silence with his own.
Sarm, following Tarkus' observation and going with him into the shop leads him to the very peculiar behavior of the salesgoblin. Looking around long enough to realize what Tarkus means, he decides to break the silence with a simple, "Successful business, I hope?"
Flarg looks up from his paperwork. "I don't have time for small talk. If you want to buy something, do it. If not, then leave." His voice is nasally and gruff, but his accent is surprisingly cultured for a goblin. Not waiting for a reply, he looks back down and resumes what he was doing.
Raising an eyebrow at the goblin's annoyed tone, Tarkus cocks his head to the side and narrows his eyes. Seeing Sarm's look, he decides to take the initiative.
Silently he quickly palms an item from the shelf and turns, walking up slowly and uncomfortably close to the merchant.
Leaning over him, he says "You want us to buy...but what you sell?"
Displaying his selection, a rotten peach is held in his hand. Tossing it up and down a few times in his palm, he suddenly squeezes it, letting the juice run down his fist to trickle onto the goblin's fancy dress.
"Cus know you not charge for rotted fruit" he says in a measured tone, holding eye contact before letting the ruined mess plop onto the ground.
((lets go with 8 potions of invis and 8 oils of silence for 4800 gp(you up for splitting this, Val?) and a scroll of telepathic bond for 1125 gp(just gonna copy this into my spell book, so no need to split the cost)))
Quintus reply's, "Alright, that'll give me time to copy this spell into my book, could be useful later on."
((Sorry about the delay. Valentine's Day stuff. Yeah, Qyburn dropped 50k. And Sarm, Perception is always based on Wisdom (since both Spot and Listen are, in the normal rules). ))
Flarg puts down his quill and looks up at Tarkus. He seems somewhat shaken. "I guess I should have sprung for the extra security after all," he sighs. Hesitating for only a moment to glance distrustfully at Sarm and Suvne, he shrugs. "You've either already heard of my establishment, or you're more perceptive than you look," he says in a hushed tone. "I deal in illicit goods that can't be found anywhere else in all of Sigil. Forbidden spell components, profane potions, cursed arms and armaments, slaves of a variety of ages and races... that sort of thing. If you're in the market to buy, then tell me what you need; judging by the quality of the equipment you and your friends there are already carrying, you just might be able to afford it.
"If you're here in some sad attempt to shut me down, though, you're out of luck. This operation is bigger than one lowly, insignificant goblin merchant."
----------------------
Val and Quintus arrive back at the temple late that night, well after dark. There is just enough illumination outside for the pegasi to find their way back (or perhaps they can see in the dark). Upon return, they find that the others haven't returned yet, but this isn't completely surprising because they were aware that Tarkus, Sarm, and Suvne's flight would be much longer than theirs was. They retire for the evening, expecting to reunite with the others the following day.
Sarm looks to Tarkus, seeming satisfied with the discovery, "There was more to this city's block than meets the eye. We should leave before we cause any unnecessary trouble."
Whenever Sarm has a chance to speak with Tarkus with only Suvne to hear, he would suggest that the resort they see is most likely built upon these illegal dealings, and that they should return to discuss with Val and Quintis how that could be relevant to the Lady of Pain because it is getting so late with much distance to travel.
And Sarm, Perception is always based on Wisdom (since both Spot and Listen are, in the normal rules).
((Ah, okay. I have bonuses listed for both Wis & Int so I must have been thinking an int skill was under its umbrella. I do prefer it being Wis-only because Pathfinder's Perception skill uses Wis.))
Tarkus steps back and nods at Sarm. Giving the goblin a look, he says "Master will be glad for you cooperation. Will return with order." Walking out and back towards the pegasi he grunts in agreement with the cleric's analysis. "Sneaky op of some kind happen here. Not know what or why. Val may know more."
Though Tarkus's Ring of Sustenance keeps him alert and vigilant throughout the journey, Sarm and Suvne have a much tougher time of it. The high speeds, along with the resulting high winds and low temperatures, keep them from completely falling asleep, but more than once they catch themselves nearly ready to slip out of their saddles as the pegasi cut a path through the night sky.
Finally, in the wee hours of the morning, the three winged horses and their riders land atop the roof of the temple, the shining light of Pelor nearly blinding in contrast to the surrounding darkness. Inside, they are greeted by the perpetually-awake Quintus; everyone else has turned in for the night. Even angels, it seems, need to sleep sometimes.
The next morning - likely a late morning for Sarm and Suvne -, everyone meets in the dining area to swap stories and share intelligence. A relatively plain, but adequate and nutritious, breakfast is served up courtesy of the fire elemental priestess, who seems to have turned her flaming countenance to her advantage, cooking the food simultaneously as she carries the plates to the tables.
Rising early Tarkus notes the others asleep in their beds or otherwise absorbed in their giant spell book and is conflicted. While appreciative of the temple's gracious hosting he is unnerved by it. The light is strong here and everything appears far too pristine and quiet. On the opposite end of the spectrum, he is hesitant to go walking outside into the hustle and bustle of Sigil's exotic citizenry.
Settling for doing some quiet exercise just outside the temple, he returns to find the group seated in the dining hall on an oak table. The fragrance of nuts and fruits encourage Tarkus to take a seat quickly and dig in to satiate his unnecessary appetite. Eyeing the flaming priestess with wonderment as she simultaneously cooks and serves the food, he shakes his head before getting down to business.
- - -
Tarkus describes the investigation of the street corner briefly. "All seem normal busy street...except one shop." He describes the encounter with the goblin merchant and his underground dealings as well as Sarm's suspicion that there is more to the underground market in that area than meets the eye. "Still not explain why Lady need pass...but cannot be for good." Spearing a fruit with his fork, he finishes his thought before placing it in his mouth. "Need decide if we do this or not soon. Shadow dealer not seem patient type."
The next morning, Val is itching to get to work. It's a long trip out to the tower, and he'd want to have as much time as possible to explore the place, plunder its secrets, and beat a hasty retreat. "There are two methods, by which we can gain entry to the tower," he explains to everyone one they've assembled. "There is fairly regular traffic into and out of the tower, so the first option is to use a potion of invisibility to simply follow someone else in. The second option is to identify someone with authorization to enter and take their place. Both options are with their merits and detriments, but in a push I'd probably opt for the first one. The second requires time we do not have, and I'm willing to take the gamble that we won't need to present legitimate documents at any point during this endeavor.
"Now this shop on the corner, that is interesting indeed... If I had to hazard a guess, I might think this shop of unsavory items and deeds might actually be the target, we the delivery instrument, and the Lady of Pain the payload. Very interesting indeed..."
