Planescape-ish IC

[whiskytangofoxt]

As far as the eye can see, dark, featurless clay stretches out under your feet. The sky itself seems to be a dark brown, ash floating by like a great fire had recently swept this place. You've been going for about half an hour - the town (if it was even large enough to earn that title) slowly becomes a brightish dot on the horizon behind you, and in front the portal entrance shines brighter and brighter, a blueish speck becoming a full-blown archway, about a storey tall, and several feet wide, standing in the midst of a vast ruin.

You are part of a small caravan - two trade wagons and a sealed palanquin, dragged by large unusual beasts of burden. You are not alone on the caravan - several kobold servitors, a slate-grey hue with odd red markings, hustle about the wagons, ensuring all is well, and a few motley humans and demi-humans also walk in stride with you. In front, a huge, hairy and horned reptilian creature sniffs at the air, as though finding its way by smell alone.

"It's still here. Still goes home," the huge thing calls to the palanquin. Those of you who've travelled with the caravan for a while know the creature's name is Karsk - you're unsure of his racial buildup, but you do know that he can probably punch you clean in half without breaking a sweat.

You hear a voice emanate from inside the palanquin, shrill and high. The tone is painfully imperious. A slight buzz underneath it, like a bee trapped in a jar, makes you think it has been magically amplified.

"Well, here we are. The Lady only knows why there's a permanent portal out here... nothing but ash and peasants. But, it's just about the easiest way into The Cage...ready up, men, women, other things - we're heading home."

[arguskos]

Sol'kanar runs a hand through his snow-white hair, and nudges the youth beside him. "Look up, oi. Back ta' ya' books soon enough, Ja."

Ja'kanar looks at the elder Kanar and shakes his head, grumbling, "Leather-headed berk." He checks his crossbow, just in case of an attack, then gets ready to reenter the Cage. "Wonder if we'll be near the Lady's Ward, and home."
"'s possible. Be nice ta' go home again."

[whiskytangofoxt]

Karsk snorts in derision at the sentiment of "home".

"You'll be lucky. Smells like piss, booze and rot.

We're Hive-bound, for sure.

A smile flickers across his broad, misshapen mouth, and the slightest hint of a forked tongue can be saw.

"Heh, maybe we can get that boy of yours a turn with one of the whores? Uptight berk like him needs to blow off some steam..."

[Nai_Calus]

"Not with me around, he ain't. When I'm around, bashers, nobody gets the whores or ladies but me," Xybapi says lightly, fluffing his bangs with one hand.

[arguskos]

"I'll tell you, you unhen-" Ja starts to get riled, but is cut off by Sol. "Ha, good to be back at the Laugh! Yer a good basher, Karsk."

[Rainbow Servant]

"That sounds like a challenge to me, Xy," Jonaleth teases without turning around.
"We might not all be as pretty as you, but our gold shines just as bright."

[Nai_Calus]

"Yeah, but given a choice between a customer with plenty of jink and another customer who's also got plenty of jink, wouldn't you rather go with the better-lookin' one if you're going to be sleepin' with the berk?" Xybapi grins. "I'm yanking your chains, though, I don't frequent whores. Why pay for what you can get for free, and usually with fewer diseases? Alas, but I'm still in mourning, you know. Wife ain't been dead long enough. I don't think anyway. Honestly not sure. Somewhere along the line time got a bit muddled for me." He frowns.

[arguskos]

"Basher, time's just the Wheel spinning. Don't mean a thing to any but a clueless, and you aren't a clueless. Ya sure 'o dat, Ja? 'es always struck me as a clueless in a few ways, in th' best 'o ways, though." Sol winks and smiles as he talks, fiddling with a ring while he laughs.

[Nai_Calus]

"'Well look at me, aren't I clever, implying the Planar's one of the Clueless'." Xybapi says mockingly, copying Sol's tone and mannerisms. "Watch how you rattle your bone-box around me, berk. It may not mean anything to you, but it does to me since I'm pretty sure I'm missing some of it. Kind of like to know what happened to it, yeah? And I'll have you know I'm from Arborea, near Mount Olympus. Had a wife and kids there. They're dead now. Died of old age. Bit odd, isn't it, since as far as I know I'm only 34?"

[Rainbow Servant]

"Not to be trite, but there are more things in all the planes than are dreamt of, as the saying goes."
Jon fidgets with his belt. He starts to say something, then pauses.
"Come on, lads, we can't sit around here all day - Sigil is waiting for us. My turn to take point, I think."

[whiskytangofoxt]

The voice from inside the caravan cries out

"On, then!", and the caravan begins to roll out through the gate...

...and into Sigil.

The noises of the city are strange enough, after that forsaken place you left - but what you really forgot about was the people. The city bustles around about you, people of all races and creeds going about their business, not paying you the least mind.

The caravan pulls up at the side of the road, and the caravan master exits.

Most Mercane are merchants at heart - they dress to impress, keep themselves aloof and distant, and follow inter-planar trade laws to the letter.

Not K'Liv.

The Mercane who pours himself out of the caravan looks a lot paler than most you've seen, but is still recognisably blue. Instead of the dark, professional colours of his peers, K'Liv wears a seamless white robe (the craftsmanship betrays the desire to look "cheap"). What appear to be smoked-glass goggles are permanently grafted over his eyes, burrowing into his temples. A stripe of white hair, much like a mohawk, ends in a ponytail at the back of his oddly long head. As he leaves, a skull (possibly human or Elven), covered in runes and arcane etchings, floats out after him, giving off a strange green glow. Powerfully scented smoke pours from the palanquin as he leaves.

"Right, we sold a lot this trip, so pay will be good. Remember, I covered your lodgings, food, and other expenses, so that comes straight out. I'll go trade all this jink at the exchange, get you back here in an hour or so? Go foul up a tavern somewhere, eh? We're in The Hive, after all..."

[arguskos]

Sol'kanar, having ignored the touchy biter, breathes deep of the Sigilian air. "'s good ta be 'ome! We should report to Beg, cousin. 'e'll be fine. 'e should drink! 'ere's a metal cup only roun' th' corner. Called th' Bub Hole. Ya in?"

[Rainbow Servant]

"A chance to sit down and have a drink? Count me in."

[arguskos]

"Karsk, want some bub? How 'bout you, Prissy-Pants?" Sol gestures in the tavern's direction impatiently. "Been a long trip, wan' ta 'et me bubbin' on!"

[Nai_Calus]

Xybapi snorts.

"I can drink you lot right under the table, I can. Won't enjoy it, though, only a damn fool enjoys the rotgut they serve down here in this pisspot of a ward. But aye, I'm along for the ride. And don't call me prissy, y'ought t' know better by now I ain't." He grins. "I'm just as dirty and rough-and-tumble as the rest of you lot, I just dress bettter." He gestures to the somewhat elaborate cream-colored tunic with dark red embroidery he's wearing belted over scarlet tights and fashionable-but-well-used boots and flicks his brown ponytail back over his shoulder with a wide grin.

[arguskos]

"You? Yer a bally sixer, and bally sixers ain't got nothin' on the Sword, nor her citizens, yeah? Let's get bubbin' already!" Sol motions to follow, and pushes off through the crowd towards the tavern. Ja rolls his eyes, and follows quietly.

[whiskytangofoxt]

Karsk shakes his shaggy head.

"Bodyguard duties, for Mister K'Liv. Later."

[arguskos]

"See you shortly, Karsk. We'll bring you something." Ja hurries to catch up with Sol and the others, who are halfway there already (it wasn't far anyways).

OOC:

Spoiler

Show

So yeah, I just figured I'd make up some ****ty tavern for you to play with, Mr. DM Guy. It's called the Bub Hole, I'm envisioning a kinda crappy Hive tavern, but one Sol and Ja frequent, cause the Kanar's own it. Course, they still gotta pay. They just don't get thrown out or threatened with shivs or anything, cause the bouncer knows them, etc.

Feel free to go anywhere you want with it.

[Nai_Calus]

Xybapi snorts.

"Typical arrogant Cager, actin' like your little floating bagel's got anything on the Wheel. You probably think Arborea is all naked elves and wine and sodding parties. You wouldn't last a day there without someone like me around to help. Aye, to whatever foulness this place passes off as fit to drink." He strolls into the tavern and wrinkles his nose in disgust at the place.

[whiskytangofoxt]

After the smell of damp, the next thing to hit you about the tavern is the temperature. It's cold in here.

It's... not the nicest bubhouse in Sigil, but it'll do for now. The clientele are a mix of peoples - humans and shadar-kai, elves and genasi, neraphim, a few scattered low-ranking devils, even a single water half-elemental, all sit around the tables. Most wear high hoods and other forms of disguise (generally, a good plan when being seen in some of the bubhouses in the Hive), and anyconversation you overhear is furtive and quiet.

Behind the bar stands what appears to be a Gelugon (Ice Devil) - tall, insectoid, and an unmistakeable shade of light blue. Most of you know that, frankly, this would be a terribly demeaning job for such a high-ranking devil.

In true barman style, he cleans a glass with a rag that is dirtier than the glass. It still comes out clean.

"Whatd'ye want?"

[arguskos]

OOC:

Spoiler

Show

Do Sol/Ja know the barkeep? If so, what's his name, so I can use it properly?

"Give us an ale, eh? And that one wants a giant's pace. My tab." Sol points at Xy.

[Rainbow Servant]

"It's hard to go wrong with a good cold ale. I'll have one too."
Jon takes a quick look around the bar to see if anyone/thing interesting is present.

[whiskytangofoxt]

Aside from the... odd inhabitants, there is not much of interest. One Hive tavern is much the same as another, sadly...

The barman presents two mugs. They contain what could generously be described as ale.

"Two stingers, Iceman. Grey Ice, if you can. No tab here."

He distractedly goes back to scrubbing his glass, and ensures you can see the dagger on his belt.

[arguskos]

Sol digs in a pocket, and pulls out three grey ices, tossing them on the counter. He grabs the ales, walks to a table in the corner big enough for everyone, and takes a seat, gesturing for folks to follow. "'S good ta be 'ome."

Ja catches up finally, and steps to the counter. "An ale, Gelugon, if you please."

[Obrysii]

There – descending from the sky a rainbow of color, wings flapping, feathers ruffling, serpent tail twisting in the wind.

Dropping – tumbling, and then landing with a soft and comfortable beat of feathered wings – Alliana, the resident Lillend.

“Hiya!” she said, young – voice the sound of an angel – and bright. She smiled at her companions as she folded her wings down, catching her breath before sliding gently into the tavern, looking to the drinkers – her friends. “Did I miss anything?”

[arguskos]

"Oi, Alliana, 'ere ya 're! 'is here's th' Bub Hole, o' my grandpa. Go and get yerself an ale." Sol slides a few grey ice coins across the table at her, and gestures to the gelugon with a knowing wink. "An' watch after Ja, yah? 'e's up there."

[Obrysii]

"Oh, um, that's okay," she said pleasantly, sliding over to the table, curling the bulk of her form beneath it - her back pressed against the chair's back. "So how is everyone?"

She looked them over - she among the larger of them, she didn't seem to act out of place; of course, most creatures were out of place, so ...

[arguskos]

"Eh, yer call." Sol recollects his coins, and looks about the room at the assorted Hivers and gutter trash. "'een worse. Boss is off workin' up our jink, gunna meet in an 'our or so, back at the portal. Just drinkin' th' time away in company, oi? You?"

[Nai_Calus]

Xy nods pleasantly at Alliana.

"Ahh, that's better now. Something in this outhouse of a dive that isn't hideously ugly, and a little piece of home to boot. Er, well, come to think of it, haven't asked you what plane you're from yet, guess I just assumed Arborea, but I suppose your kind can come from Ysgard or the Beastlands too." He shrugs apologetically. "Can't say I really know that much about celestials, I was just a farmer back home before I took up adventuring. Probably would've done better if I'd stayed at home and read a book on you lot and learned."

[Rainbow Servant]

"That's as may be friend, but there's only so much book learning you can do before the planes themselves make a better teacher," Jon says.
"But maybe that's just because I was born a Prime. Different strokes for different folks and all that. And some of the folks out here can be pretty damned different. Not that there's anything wrong with that, of course."