The Guild of Honorable Interplanar Entrepreneurs IC

[Eldan]

To a creature from the Prime Material Plane, as it is called out here, the Outer Planes may indeed seem like a strange place. The natives, be they mortal or not, claim that the heart is stronger than the sword or the pen out here, that belief shapes reality and that the mind is the only certainty in this shifting worlds.
For some, however, that is just the talk of philosophers and bubbers. Yes, the factions are powerful, but like all power, it's mostly based on wealth. Why, if belief is so strong, do sensates charge money for their memory theatres? No. Out here, like everywhere else, money is the first and foremost power. Who cares whether Experience or Laws or Freedom are the greatest principle if you don't have the money to buy it? Shouldn't this be even more true for immortal creatures? If you have longer to live, this life might as well be good.
And for this reason, Merchants exist, even on the outer planes. Some sail the River Oceanus, selling spices from Elysium, wine from Arborea and Gnomecraft from Bytopia to all the Upper Planes. Others scavenge the battlefields of the bloodwar for forgotten artefacts and sell slaves to armies of Baatezu and Tanar'ri alike.
And then there are those who do everything, if the price is right. Like you.

You had been lucky, some would say, to find your new home. Others might say that there is no such thing as luck, and that it was skill and skill alone, or fate.
Those who said luck might just be right. Yes, from time to time one might find one or the other walking tower in the outlands. Some ancient mage or mages seems to have created these, because they are all ancient. But what you found is astounding: an entire walking fortess, four towers and a three-story main building in between, walking around on a dozen foot-thin legs of magical energy. An amazing treasure if there ever was one.
Of course, it wasn't empty. You don't get that lucky. But that vampire infestation wasn't hard to remove, you just had to stake two dozen spawns and toss the vampire lord a large, large bag of gold.
It was worth it. You have now had this fortress for a year, and the publicity it gave you alone was worth the "purchase". It also had rooms for everyone of you, a large main hall, a treasure chamber secured with lead, runes and a forcecage and, best of all, a room with a dozen stone arches, each of them a portal to a different place. So far, you have only found out where two of them lead, one to a small forest in the middle of nowhere on Ysgard, and the other one to the backyard of a nice little halfling tavern in the Clerk's Ward of Sigil.

It has been quiet the last few days, no offers, no big deals, giving you a little time to do whatever famous traders do in their time off.

[Stycotl]

Xietzan sits in his room--more like a library with a bed and chamber pot--studying by the light of a pair of tallow candles. When not on a mission, he can usually be found here, though his door is open if he is in. The mild-mannered half-fiend likes his books, but doesn't ever seem to become irritated at the usual interruptions.

His room is large, but his living area is tiny, dwarfed by the shelves of books and scrolls, clay tablets, and stone sculptures, a veritable treasure trove of archeological knowledge from many cultures the multiverse over. Xiet does not really explain much about what it is that he searches for so singlemindedly, but he makes no attempts to hide the general occult themes of the library, the papers written about ancient mythology and cosmology, and the mystic nature of the gods.

Rubbing his tired eyes, the winged man stands and stretches, then takes a deep breath and leaves his room to get a breath of fresh air. The door to his room swings shut behind him without any instruction, and Xietzan makes his way down the halls of the slowly lumbering fortress.

Spoiler

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so, what plane are we stationed on?

[Eldan]

Your fortess, like all walking towers, is stationed in the Outlands. Due to the weird geometry of this plane, you can't really tell where you are, since it takes between three and twenty days to get anywhere on this plane, no matter where you are, and not even the same amount of time everytime.
You can however tell that the fortess is currently walking through a very flat savanna, with the light of the sky (there's no sun) burning down on you. The infinitely high spire in the middle of the plane is casting a long shadow past you, vanishing in the distance.
The castle marches on, on a course that seems mostly random to you, whenever it's control room isn't manned. Even then, forcing the fortess to take a certain course can be a difficult task, more like convincing it than steering. The control room is located in small dome above the main building, a room only two by two steps, with arcane runes carved into every surface and eldritch crystals floating in mid-air.

[Rarkasha]

Syssis is busy in her room messing around on a piano she recently bought. Her room isn't entirely complete but is otherwise well furnished, the color scheme a soft red with bronze/gold details, such as the tapestries along the walls, the large couch and even a large pile of cushions. Everything is clearly designed for comfort and entertaining guests, though it's clearly a work in progress, with some areas left barren.

The only practical area of the room is more of a walk in closet, containing her various magic items and scrolls. In the corner, she has a simple wooden desk with several books across it. Each one is a collection of information on important subjects, such as new creatures she has encountered, carious cultures and their practices, the planes, the majority of her transactions, all meticulously kept in order.

She sighs and stops practicing her scales. She wasn't tired of the repetition, but she felt restless, unproductive. She walked along the halls of the fort, taking her usual human form with the red dress and long black hair, looking for her comrades.

[elkhantar]

Kalender is atop the roof of the tower where he resides, looking at the infinite yet close horizon of the Outlands, to the point where the spire's shadow disappears far from view. Why he likes that spot, he has never told, and may not even know himself, but since time means very little to him, spending hours looking at a point in the horizon doesn't seem so relevant.

Without any warning, the death knight descends from the rooftop and begins walking briskly to his room. The dim lighting of the room contrasts heavily with the sharp sunless bright of the exterior. Kalender's eyes, unlike those of the living are unhindered by the transition. In fact, his real eyes withered centuries ago, and the orange dots of light that occupy his eyesockets do not have a physical iris to adjust.

Although quite large, his quarters are almost devoid of furniture. Large tapestries of a deep red colour cover all windows, allowing very little light into the room. Large ebony weapon racks hold a large variety of melee weapons of varied facture and shape against each of the long walls. Three worn practice targets stand in triangular formation towards one end and on the other is a massive stone throne, with a large black axe resting between its arms, with not much more in the room other than a couple of ornamental statues.

Kalender reaches for one of the weapon racks and grabs a flail whose's heads have been fitted with wicked spikes. The death knight makes a couple of turns with the weapon to get the feel of it and detaches a large metal shield from the wall.

A moment later, the lonely silence of the tower is interrupted by the constant ring of metal against metal. Sparks fly from the practice targets as Kalender moves in a complex pattern among them, lashing out with the flail and deftfully avoiding or parrying their spinning blades.

[WhiteKnight777]

Alshibboruth

The aboleth sat in his room, wearing his natural form at the moment. His deep red eyes gazed into the magical tome that one slave, a female that he understood to be asthetically pleasing in the extreme to most of the humanoid and demi-humanoid races, was holding aloft, sitting perfectly still on her knees as she held the book over her head like a piece of living furniture. Alshibboruth felt a shudder of enjoyment run through his massive, hovering form as her counterpart, a bulky male of a Prime species closely resembling baseline humans, worked vigorously at clearing bits and pieces from beneath his layered plates. He gave the aboleth equivalent of a sigh as he felt the slave pull out a piece of jagged metal that had been bothering him for days - almost six inches long, the head of a spear that one of the unfortunate vampires had attempted to use right before Alshibboruth had blasted him into oblivion.

He remembered that fight with mild annoyance - the aboleth hated dealing with the undead. they were immune to his favorite form of attack, his awesomely potent mind-breaking powers, and thus the fight was far less profitable than it could have been. He needed a better class of slave, he mused, turning a page with one prehensile tentacle - these two were fine for the menial tasks, but frankly they were useless for more important work. He needed more reliable, more powerful slaves. He would have to see about it sometime soon.

Dismissing the slaves with a wave of his tentacle, he floated out into the hallway, drifting through the fortress with no real aim in the moment, his tail moving idly through the air, as if he were one of his aquatic cousins deep beneath the sea.

[Stycotl]

Xietzan passes Alshibboruth in the hall and smiles in greeting, hands clasped behind his folded wings and back.

[WhiteKnight777]

Alshibboruth

The aboleth returned the greeting, waving a pair of tentacles in a complex pattern. As the half-fiend passed, the aboleth slowly turned his massive bulk with a ponderous grace, his voice coming in a curious sound like the sigh of the night-wind.

Greetings, Xietzan... has there been... any news... of interest?

[Eldan]

At that moment, the third of the aboleth's servants came down the broad spiral staircase that connected the main hall to the portal room. A thin elf with some unidentifiable planar influence in his bloodline, for his skin had a bluish colour.
"Master", he said, his voice monotonous and empty.
"Three letters have arrived for you."
In his outstretched hands he held three objects:
The first seemed to be a quite normal letter in an envelope of white paper, so thin that one could see the shadow of the servants hand through it. Obviously extremely expensive. The Sigil on the back, in red wax, showed a very ornate "W".
The second was a head-sized bundle of what appeared to be white skin of some kind, held together by a hair-thin silver thread spun around it in a complicated pattern.
The third one seemed to be a marble tablet, wrapped in black fur and a massive bronze chain, which, on it's lock, depicts the symbol of two ram's horns.

[WhiteKnight777]

Alshibboruth

Alshibboruth's tentacles stretched out, deftly plucking all three messages from the servant's hands. He opened the first package, the sealed letter with his spare manipulator, handing the second, the bundle of skin to Xietzan to unwrap while he perused the contents of the first missive. As he was doing so, he sent a telepathic message to both of his servants to alert the others that new opportunities had been made clear.

[Eldan]

The letter contained the following message, written in a very ornate and squiggly handwriting, with the complicated signature alone filling a third of the page.

Dear Members of the Interplanar Entrepreneurs

I have recently found myself in a situation which requires the help of intelligent entities skilled in certain areas my own skills sadly do not cover. I have only heard the very best about you and your company and would be delighted if you would consider to follow the my invitation to the "Fortune's Wheel" tomorrow night, in the Lady's ward vers four hours to antipeak.
The business I would like you to partake in would involve a message, but the correct term for the entire mission should rather be "escort mission" or "herding". Should you consider this offer, I would be able to provide you with two rewards you might find promising: first, a large amount of platinum, and secondly, and perhaps more important to you, various valuable connections and business partners in the soul trading trade, Night Hags and Demon Lords among them.

Lord Winsome

[WhiteKnight777]

Alshibboruth

Filing the contents of the first letter away in his memory, Alshibboruth examined the third package, sealed with chain and lock, looking for any obvious way to open it, and at the same time examining it for any magic it or, more specifically its bindings might hold.

Spoiler

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casting Detect Magic

[Rarkasha]

Syssis

Eventually Syssis finds Alshibboruth and Xietzan, and cheerfully waves at them while walking over.

"Hey Xietzan, Al-Alshab-Alshiber-uh, Legs. Did we get a new job? Hope it's not today, I was thinking we should go out to Sigil. We haven't properly celebrated the, um, "acquisition" of our home."

[Eldan]

The marble radiates an Aura of enormously strong magic, of the illusion and transmutation school. As soon as Alshibboruth touches the lock, it springs open, followed by the chain snaking over the entire package and then falling to the floor, followed by the fur.
The marble, now entirely revealed, shows etchings in a kind of script you don't recognize. However, as soon as it's entirely revealed, a deep voice starts to read the message, in an almost chanting tone, which is loud and booming enough to be heard throughout the entire fortress.
"HEAR THE WORDS OF MINOS; SPEAKING IN THE HOLY NAME OF HADES PLUTON!
YOU HAVE BEEN CHOSEN TO FULFILL HIS HOLY WILL. SUCEED, AND THE LORD OF WEALTH WILL FULFILL YOUR WISHES! COME TO THE CITY OF HOPELESS WITHHIN THREE DAYS AND WE WILL CONTACT YOU WITH THE SPECIFICS OF YOUR QUEST."

[Stycotl]

Xietzan was about to answer the aboleth with a shake of his head, when the aberration's servant came in. Curious, Xietzan pauses, listening and watching. He takes the bundle of skin and twine and begins a cautious examination.

(detect magic)

[elkhantar]

Kalender

The faint knocking at the door momentarily distracts the death knight's concentration, making him miss a parry and take a blade to his plated shoulder. He pushes the sword aside and moves away from the practice targets, not even noticing the hit in his long dead body.

He hurries downstairs to find his associates already reunited and dealing with the curious packages. Hello everyone. The servant informed me of the letters. Kalender adopts what could be called a "relaxed" posture (an old habit of when he was alive) and lets the flail rest against his shoulder. So, any interesting news? any job that could spark our interest? he inquires.

[WhiteKnight777]

Alshibboruth

The aboleth gestured to the two missives he was holding One of these... indicates interest from a patron with a stake in the soul trade... a "herding" assignment... The other comes... from an agent... of the God Hades.

[Stycotl]

Xietzan smiles, "Just the kind of intrigue that i was hoping for."

[Rarkasha]

Syssis

Syssis drops her cheerful look and starts pacing," It sounds interesting, sure, but Hades? As much as I skirt danger already, but there had better be a really good contract if were going to a place where you risk losing your immortal soul. Then again, I guess you could say the same about the soul trading business. Well, can't be any harm in checking them out I suppose."

"Okay, summarize our options then. The three days for the Hades thing means we'd have to plane shift there and teleport if we're too off target, or find the key for it in Sigil. So that would give us two full days to get ready. Or check out the other option. What does the letter say?"

[Eldan]

The third package radiates magic as well, apparently of the necromancy school. It takes quite some time to unwrap the thin silver thread, but then the package opens, revealing that it's not only head-sized, but also contains a skull, judging by the form of an elf or similar being.
As soon as it's unwrapped, the skull begins to speak, in a hollow, thin and low voice.
"The Guild of Interplanar Entrepreneurs is hereby invited to the Hunt of the Empty Moon at the Caves of the Black Dawn, by Ephaerd Inauru Shirtan Shay, Third Beater of the Left Flank and Master of the Seven Silver Arrows.
This skull will serve the Guild as a mimir and guide, and answer all questions, if there should be any.
Exact details regarding the nature of the mission given to the Guild, as well as rewards, payments and any negotiations pertaining to these facts will be discussed at the Black Sails Tavern in Sigil, on the evening of the day after this package arrived."

[Stycotl]

Xietzan carefully examines the skull in his hands (assuming it is still in his hands, and not floating around now or something), "Do you have a name, skull?"

He turns to the others, "So, two of these contracts would require us to meet tomorrow night for details. The third, sometime before the end of the following night. I suppose that we could split up for the meetings in order to get sufficient information to make our decision, though I am ever wary of splitting up--slight as it might be, there is always the chance that one of these could be some sort of trap or sabotage."

[WhiteKnight777]

Alshibboruth

The aboleth dipped its body slightly in a motion of agreement, speaking once again. I... agree. I will go... with the group investigating... the soul merchant... that is a business.. I have a desire to... break into.

[Rarkasha]

Syssis

Then I'll take this 'hunt' thing. Should be interesting at least," she says, stopping her pacing to lean up against a wall.

[Stycotl]

"I will go with the aboleth, then." Xietzan says quietly, a distracted look in his eye as he ponders the nature of the soul-trade alluded to.

[elkhantar]

Kalender

And I'll go with the pixie to the Black Sails Tavern says the death knight. I just hope they don't intend us to join as quarry he says, although something in his tone of voice seems to indicate he would be ready to give the hunters some trouble. Mimir, tell us what you know about the empty moon hunt. he asks

[Eldan]

The Mimirs jaw doesn't move as the same hollow voice answers your questions.
"This skull once belonged to Serena Il-Yanandra Shirtan Shay. Now it is Mimir.
The Hunt of the Empty Moon is celebrated by the Unseelie Court, whenever the moons of Lor align benath the black star. To honour the Queen of Air and Darkness, the Dark Hunter will hunt down and kill a quarry chosen by the Queen from mortals presented to her by the nobles of the court."

[Rarkasha]

Syssis

"Hmm... any number of possible reasons to hire us, really. Anything from security to finding them good prey. Well, I'll get packing then. Do you have anything you want to do in Sigil? I might leave a little early, and take a look around the meeting place. Or just find something to do, you know, stretch my wings a bit," she says casually as she begins to walk back towards her room.

[Stycotl]

Xietzan turns to Alshibboruth and sighs, "Well then, I suppose that we could also get a head start, maybe get some background on these possible associates."

[elkhantar]

Kalender

I just need to get my axe, an I'll be ready to leave. says the death knight. I have nothing special to do in Sigil he adds but I can go early to check the meeting place. I would not like to walk into a trap he says. He walks towards Xiextan and stretches a hand to grab the skull. Mind if I pick that? I would like to know more about the Dark Hunter.

[Eldan]

"The Dark Hunter is the favored Knight of the Queen of Air and Darkness and the Strongest Warrior of the Unseelie Court. He hunts down those who oppose or insult the Queen and punishes them. He also performs all traditional hunts."