The Grand Soul Heist (IC)

[Eldan]

Sigil is a weird city. Few doubt that seriously, though some may make a show of their cynicism by saying that they've seen much weirder out there. Somewhere in the Hinterlands, maybe, or the stranger corners of the Prime.
There are many things that make it weird. It should be a dead city. The air is as thin as on a mountaintop. The climate is either uncomfortably warm and wet or uncomfortably wet and cold and if there ever was a day without smog and mist, none live to remember it. It has no water, no soil. Plants brought here die in days. Animals go mad. The cynical will say that it happened to the people too.
And yet, in some ways, it also has everything. Because of the doors. Every door, every window, every chimney, every rathole is a portal. On less than two miles of crumbling rock and desperate architecture, one finds... the multiverse.

Everything comes through here, too. Ten minutes on a street corner will reveal more diversity in colouring than the average rainbow, without even accounting for shape. At any given time, there are ten, twenty, a hunded times as many travelers as natives, if any but the Dabus can be called such. And travellers, travelers always want a drink and a meal and a bed.

Few of them would come to the Black Sail for any of that, not voluntarily. There are cheaper places, there are warmer places, there are friendlier places and places with better food or better drink. It sits, quite forlornly, in the Lower Ward, between the towering industrial behemoths of the neighbouring factories, where the streets dance under the blows of steam-driven hammers, where the smokestacks spit black smoke against a dead-grey sky.
It's a small place, comparably. Once, it was a ship, that much is clear from the lines of the building, the soot-soiled wooden planks. A grand war-galleon, the owner claims, the last tattered remnants of once proud sails that give it its name eternally becalmed.
It's dim, inside. A handful of lanterns behind smoked glass provide scant illumination and heavy velvet curtains have been hung between the benches and alcoves.

You have been instructed to show your letter to the doorman. He's a short tiefling with a weasely-face (not literally), and rows of three tiny horns each above each eye. His eyes are as yellow as his teeth as he looks you up and down quickly, grinning, then leads you to a small backroom with a table, five chairs and a lit oil lamp hanging from the ceiling.

"Mister Muscarum will be with you in a moment, as soon as all four of you are here.", he says, before walking back out, without even offering you a drink.

[Vixsor Lumin]

Cetearn sits alone in the dingy room. He busies himself, with rereading the letter he was given, and wondering who else would be coming along. He absent-mindedly scratches His head, and pushes in a nub where the vestige within him was trying to grow a horn.

[Mazic]

Oz had taken his time getting to the bar requested of him. Instead finding a thirst come upon him every time he found a tavern along the way. Buying a mug off ale from each host, and leaving slightly drunker each time he finished. It wouldn't be long tell he was giggly drunk, swaying and dancing around crowd. Not many bothered a drunk buying poor man's ale. Much less one with a big sword and wearing nice chain.

Getting to the tiefling bouncer, a loud hiccup as his feet couldn't seeming to keep him still. The tiefling seeming less amused by Oz's constant shifting armor. "I got a letter I think" He said placing his hand in his pact. Oz had trained his brain to state what he wanted from his Handy Haversack as part of a conversation, His hand fumbling around like it wasn't in his hand already. Pulling it forward, and the tiefling reviewing it and leading him to a back room

Oz entered the back room, but only after ordering another mug of ale. Taking it with him, and seeing a the young cetearn already waiting for them. "Cheers" he said raising his mug before drinking. Heavy feet landing on the floor as he found a seat and lazily sliding into it.

[Vixsor Lumin]

"Cheers." Cetearn says with a smile and a nod, while carefully folding his letter. Tucking it into his coat pocket, he turns his chair to better face the man before him. There is a quick but blatant glance up and down, as he sizes up the newcomer.

He rests his hand near Oz's mug, and drums his fingers on the table. "So what brings you around here? Other than refreshments that is." He subtly twists the mug so that the handle is facing towards himself.

[INoKnowNames]

Marina grants a cold stare to the disgusting tiefling baring her path, before showing the letter of Muscarum's deal. Trading services from one fiend to another isn't something a wise person would do, but the truly astute would never be in this predicament in the first place, and she has nothing to lose at this point. She advances past the monster without a word, pausing only to scope out the room before her, and to look back to ensure she specifically was not being followed. Inside, her eyes glide around the facility, stopping only to acknowledge the others who share her state. She responds only with a nod, and puts her back to the wall, her arms crossed.

[Mazic]

"What brings me here? Probably the brothel?" Oz stated just as a woman entered, she gave a nod and went to the wall to stand. "I don't think she is one of the entertainers..." He said with a little chuckle. His eyes going down to his mug and seen it had turned to favor the young man. He looked at it curiously, as if he hadn't paid attention to his own drink. "Sir... I think my ale likes you... I feel I should share the drink... but it is only big enough for one man. Quite a... Zzzzz." Oz had apparently passed out in his own chair.

[Vixsor Lumin]

Cetearn takes the mug, and drinks deeply. "Well if you insist." he chuckles. After draining the mug, he faces the woman who had just entered, giving her the same rough once over he had given Oz. He sets the empty mug down within easy reach of its original owner.

The nod she had given him didn't reaveal much to judge her by. He responds with a nod in kind, and decides to wait until wither she speaks or their fourth arrived.

[Tempestfury]

As the three waited for their fourth companion to arrive, they would become aware of a loud of amount of noise from outside of the room. Specifically a lot of clanking and clicking, the sounds of large amounts of metal coming together... which one would be able to recognize as the sound of heavy armour. Followed soon by heavy footfalls that got louder and louder.

Eventually, the fourth and final figure came into the room, grumbling under his breath. Highly displeased by the choice of venue, doubly so that he was greeted by a damn demon blood. Not that there was anything wrong with tiefling mind you... but when one is preparing to go against devils, one tends to be wary around all signs of the infernal.

The figure was rather large and prominent. Whilst the others could blend in with the dark and dusty environment of the inn and its placement in Sigil, he stuck out like a sore thumb. Wearing a full set of plate armour - battered and battleworn - with the Platinum Dragon proudly emblazoned on its chest. On his back, was a shield, nearly as tall as he was, and large lengths of chain wrapped together and stuffed into his belt. His was big, burly, young and confident, and called Dazenth.

Dazenth looked around the room, examining the others with an expression of faint distaste... at least the passed-out drunk and Ceteran. When his gaze fell on the only female in the room however, his expression turn into out of great surprise. “By the gods, Marina Ironblade? Is that you? Whatever are you doing here?” He question, his voice almost as loud as he was big, Dazenth stepping forwards to address Marina, his full attention taken by her.

[INoKnowNames]

Marina's eyes widen slightly as she recognizes the voice calling out her name. Sighing, she looks away. "Just looking for ways to take back what belongs to me." a cold, mature voice answers the man after a pause, eyes closed. "I can only assume you all are here for reasons of a similar nature?" she asks, though in more of a declarative than inquisitive tone.

[Tempestfury]

“I have a few ideas about what your talking about, but the answer to all of them is no.” Dazenth said, shaking his head as he carefully lowered himself into a seat, a rather difficult task when wearing full plate armour, but possible. “Turns out the big ancestors Malicious was an evil bastard that had no problems with damning his entire blood-line just to ensure that he had a legacy. I intend to make sure that the innocents don’t suffer anymore.” Subtle, Dazenth was not.

[Mazic]

Oz stirred as the sounds of the entire kitchen staff banging pots together had entered the room. His head only shifting as he groaned and strained to continue sleeping. Sounds like Full Plate. Heavy steps even for the heavy armor means he is big, and his voice is boisterous is a sign of health and fortitude. Then there is Marina Ironblade, the only one who has their name out in the open. From the little bit I saw of her, she seems to favor speed to strength. She was also a tall woman and most likely would have some power with her hits. So that's two warriors based on first impressions, one more like a turtle and will make things harder move quickly for. But the two seem to know each other, and her gear seemed well made. It is possible he owns a horse that might help carry him. Then their is the third candidate, He looked scrawny which pointed to him using some sort of magic. He assumed that each of them had to be capable for some reason. The young man wasn't the stealthiest, but he was quick to take a opportunity. There were times that would come in handy. He would need to find a different way to learn more about him though.

Oz's head slowly lifted up, groaning. "I was having such a nice nap too." He said as his head swayed to look at the large man. "Whoa, aren't you a big one. Nice and sturdy, plenty of space to get behind when the arrows come flying." Oz slowly stood up, his body doing a little swayed dance as he found his footing. "The name is Oz... The great and powerful wizard!... Wait... no, I never went to school for that. That's right, I am a sergeant of the Kessler Mercenary Army that was disbanded some time ago. Name is still Oz though... But my friends call me Oz." Oz's attention then turned to Marina, a crooked smile soon followed a terrible attempt of flirting. "And you may call me Oz" Ending his statement with a silly wink.

[Vixsor Lumin]

Cetearn stands and clears his throat. "Well, since we are doing introductions now," he reaches up and rolls back his sleeves revealing the Infernal words and arcane symbols tattooed across his arms. Using sweeping gestures, and the voice of an orator, he speaks again. "My name is Cetearn Hargrove, and I'm here because I want my soul back. I'm having a bit of buyers remorse, and I think I could put it to better use than anything on the 8th could." he sits again, hoping to learn more about the others by their reactions to someone who blatantly sold their soul rather than being tricked.

[INoKnowNames]

Marina turns slightly and gives Dazenth the man a questioning glance from one eye as he makes his spiel. (You're just as forthwith as the senior prince was. Though that would certainly explain why his debt would be beyond my soul and life to give.) she punctuates her thoughts with a sigh, though she does not comment beyond this.

Her eye drifts onto the drunkard half collapsed on himself. Her gaze goes from sharp to surprised to slanted in a matter of moments. "You do a wonderful job of either showcasing... or masquerading your true nature, Oz." she responds, not sure what to make of him.

And then there is Cetearn, who proves as bombastic as Dazenth, if not more so. Marina arches her brow at him as he brazenly acknowledges his situation. "So it seems my initial suspicions are accurate, should Oz be suffering in a similar manner, and not merely be a guest of this bar. I can share your sentiments, Cetearn." she address his with another nod, pointing to the branding that tattoos her shoulders and back.

[Tempestfury]

“If he was just a guest at the bar, he wouldn’t be in this room.” Dazenth said with a shrug, the movement making his armour clink together loudly at the action, through Dazenth didn’t seem to care. “And I suppose I should introduce myself as well. I am Dazenth Dragonblood, Paladin in service of Bahamut.” After this rather bold and somewhat pointed statement, especially with the surname likely giving away that he was royalty, the human turned back to Marina. “Although, I am curious Marina. What deal did you strike, to give up your soul to a devil? You never struck me the type as performing such an action unless it was in pure desperation.” Marina honestly was the only one in the room he had any actual interest in. The others... well, he couldn't care less. Even if they did have a common purpose.

[Eldan]

"A propos desperation."
The voice is a sort of oily whisper. As soon as the sentence ends, a stretch of what seemed to be ordinary rock wall in one corner shimmers and turns into a man. He is not very tall, perhaps a head shorter than most of you, and grotesquely fat, almost as wide around at the stomach as he is tall. His skin is ghastly pale and glistening, as if with sweat, his eyes a very pale amber. His suit, however, is immaculate, a knee length black robe, highly polished black boots, white shirt, black necktie, white gloves.
"I am Mr. Muscarum, I have invited you here. Please, have my card."
He puts a small square of ivory paper down on the table. It features, in gold writing, the words:



Larva Muscarum
~~~
Solicitor, Promotor Fidei, Community Organizer
~~~
Et videbit eum omnis oculus, et qui eum pupugerunt


"I have called you to make a proposition.""

[INoKnowNames]

Marina pointedly ignores Dazenth's question for multiple reasons. She doesn't even appear to acknowledge having heard him, beyond making a smirk at his formal introduction. Though she finds herself immediately on guard as their devilish host makes his appearance, she is ashamed for a small tinge of gratitude in the change of focus hopefully provided by his presence. Nevertheless, Marina rests a hand on her weapon, still unwilling to trust one monster from another. "Why any of us." she all but spits in the demon's direction.

[Vixsor Lumin]

Cetearn nods his head politely to Mr. Mascarum. "I don't know about you three, but I'm here because I asked nicely." he says, referring to the meeting they had had in the woods of where his life had changed.

[Mazic]

Cetearn Hargrove, sounds like a boisterous man. But his confidence doesn't sound false. Oz turned his head to listen to the young man, seeing the runes on his arms. Oz's brow rose for a instance, trying to return to his drunken act. He recognized a few of them, or at least the basic shape. Many years ago he worked as a scribe for a wizard, leaving him to pick up a few things. Not enough to learn proper magic, but enough to take a guess at what some of them could be for. But some he didn't recognize which could change their property altogether. Some kind of magic. Assuming a normal wizard would be dangerous, but assuming it is a simple bluff is more so.

Oz was concerned that Marina had taken a guess at his bluffing, but found that Darzenth had a use of taking attention off his act. It was much easier to get away with the ploy when not in the center stage after all. "Could say I made a deal, and got nothing out of it. Wanted a mug that never emptied of ale, ended up paying for every one of them." Oz said following a drunken laugh, he didn't care if people knew he was lying. They should expect that not everyone is as willing to open up to strangers, then again he had something like 400 years on them. Plenty of time to learn not to trust even a paladin, not when it came to devils at least.

Then their benefactor made a appearance, doing a show of his powers. How they could alter the world around them as if it was their play thing. Oz couldn't help to let out anger show a bit, but soon breathing slowly and calming himself. "As long as he gets me what I paid for or gets me back my money. The reason is moot." Oz said stumbling to his chair, grabbing his mug and looking into it. "It appears I drank in my sleep again..."

[Vixsor Lumin]

Looking down at the empty mug between himself and Oz, he stifles the urge to make a quip. There would be many more chances to get a free drink, but he needed to focus his attention on the devil in the room.

[Eldan]

"Why you? Good question, yes."
With a sigh, Muscarum lowers himself into one of the chairs, which groans under his weight.
"Convenience, a good part of it. You're mortals, not too attached to anything that you'd hesite leaving behind. Which means you're available. You're also all at least a little bit desperate. And I need desperation for this plan.
And yes, you will get your souls back."

[Vixsor Lumin]

"See that's the thing, I don't think you told us anything about this plan yet." Cetearn says, turning to give his full attention to their "benefactor". "If I know one thing about devils, it's that everything comes at a price, and if your willing to help us break contracts then the pay off for you has to be substantial. "

[Tempestfury]

"Yes, Cetearn is right." Dazenth said, his gave level in the direction of the one that had invited them altogether... with a plan offering them to get their souls back, which for Dazenth especially would be a hefty price. "Devil's never do anything unless it is for their benefit, and ever deal they offer has a cost, one that isn't always obvious to those that take it. So tell us, what is this plan of yours, what is the cost of it and how can it benefit you? Because I'm sure none of us are willing to trust you."

[Eldan]

The devil just grins, displaying brown and yellow crooked teeth.
"Well-spotted, that. You are of course completely correct. We never do anything without a hidden price. In this case, it would be easy. There is a price, but someone else is paying most of it. I'm not taking you on as partners or clients or anything like that."$
He leans forward, steepling his hands, looking his gaze on each of you in turn.
"I'm taking you as pawns. Your souls are quite secondary to me. They are not my goal, they are my payment to you. Does that clear things up? Would you like to hear more?"

[Tempestfury]

Dazenth had a rather... appropriate response to being called a pawn, and scowled deeply at the devil. However, he still had to weigh in his mission, and what he could gain from it... and said bluntly to the devil. “I have no desire about my own soul, but the soul of my ancestors that were damned by a tyrant. That is a lot of souls devil, but I believe it is a sufficient price for a Paladin to willing be allowed to be used by a devil.” He was a Paladin, and he would not let him be used for evil willingly.

[Vixsor Lumin]

Cetearn rolls his eyes at Drazenth's conviction. Paladins are always so....Dramatic. he thinks to himself. Before anyone else can direct the conversation, he dives into the meat of the negotiation. "I'd like to clarify how much 'most' is, as well as what assurance we have that some else is paying our price." He leans forward, clearly engrossed by the conversation. "I understand that our souls are merely payment, but if you weren't trying to dupe us in some way, I'd be somewhat insulted actually." he says with a laugh, but the steel in his eyes has no mirth.

[Mazic]

Oz had continued to stare down his mug, seeming to mourning it's emptiness. In truth part of him felt just like a empty mug, which is why he hated them. The contents of a mug gave it purpose, and while empty it was nothing more a mug... a husk of what it could be. But even a mug could be useful outside of holding a drink, games could be played with it or even use it as a weapon if needed. It wasn't true emptiness, it was the breaking feeling in your chest knowing that everything around you would waste away, the feeling of watching everything you want to protect be taken away from you, a void that could never be filled no matter the time give.

Oz then looked up as he heard being called a pawn, hearing Darenth's comment about his goal. Not out to save himself, but his family both in the past and most likely in the future. Cetearn seemed more much more calm, seeming to being use to dealing with outsiders. Oz leaned in and placed his elbows onto the table and placed down his mug as he looked at Muscarum, breathing in slightly. "I don't like the idea of being a pawn. Pawns die... a lot... I mean a lot a lot. Like their is a saying about having sacrificial pawns. In truth Mr. Mucusbum... You gathered us. That means you need us to some extent. So give us ranking that is appro*belch*Priate. I find myself more of a Rook type." OZ said smiling looking over to Darenth. "He is most definatly the knight... though he doesn't look like a horse." He continued by pointing at Cetearn and slowly looked at him. "Bishop... because I don't think he is a queen... because that is that one... Marina right... yeah she is the queen." He said before looking back at the devil before him. "That leaves you to be the king... and the player of the game of chess. Only this game the play could be killed. And we are playing on more then one board with four pieces." Oz finished resting his head in his hand, his index finger in his mouth seeming by accident that he was to lazy to fix. Cetearn was far better at speaking then him, knowing to settle a contract and find out more about the payments they might have to give up... he was more worried to remind the devil that it was getting them to help, and a devil is to smart to pick useless minions.

[Eldan]

Muscarum turns to Cetearn, more or less ignoring Dazenth.
"Oh, you're so smart. Well done. You're absolutely right that I want to dupe you and since you found out, I will now tell you exactly how I planned to do it."
He sniffs and licks his teeth, then leans back against the wall.
"And now, enough with those jokes. You", he points to Oz, "say I need you people. That's wrong. Losing you would be an inconvenience. My kind, we make plans on the scale of millennia. Eventually, another batch of promising mortals will come along. But."
His voice is quite a bit colder now, more intense. There is a fire, smouldering somewhere deep behind those pale eyes.
"Do you know how the first Baatezu came to be where they are, in literal hell? Because they kept their word. Because we stood firm and did as we were charged. We are fighting a war, the grandest, most desparate, most important war imagineable. We are fighting a war against an enemy infinite in number and guile, on infinite battlefields, across all of time and space, for the sake of everything that exists, on behalf of those who hate us and betrayed us and would see us gone because they think us tainted. We seek no glory, save for what we find in doing our part. We seek no reward, because there never will be one.
We win this war by being ruthless. Efficient. Occasionally brutal. But never treacherous. We do not pointlessly sacrifice our pawns. We do not break our promises or our contracts. Because every lie, every betrayal, every dishonesty or treachery or tiniest act of chaos makes The Enemy stronger. Our word is a bond stronger than steel and if a contract is made, in word or on paper, we will keep it. If I tell you that you will have these souls back if you do as I say and you preservere and you maybe just get a little lucky, then you will regain those souls you seek."

[Tempestfury]

“The Blood Wars.” Dazenth said, naming the conflict of which was spoken about. “The eternal battle of law vs chaos. The powerful and unlimited yet unorganized and infighting demons, facing off against the disciplined and strategic, yet smaller and individually weaker devils. A war that if it has a winner could see the end of creation itself. I know exactly of what you speak devil.”

The Paladin was rather annoyed at how he was being ignored, and wanted to prove to the devil and the others here that he wasn’t just a dumb brute and hot-blooded Paladin. He was royalty, intelligent and educated. And know how to talk with grace and manners, an ability he now put to use against the devil.

“Can you trust the word of a devil? Yes. I never said we couldn’t. However, you cannot trust a devil’s deal. For you specialize in saying one thing, but meaning another. Using any gap, any possibility for interpretation to twist things to your own desires, even though the word and contract is sound, you have no issue with going against the spirit of the agreement. That is why we question you, and it's why we wish to know what this plan of yours is. We have all be tricked by devils before, so why should we even consider making an agreement, when all we know is what we get from it? For all we know, you're deal could mean we get our souls back, only for you to take them from us a few days, or years later, as you never said we shall keep our souls.”

1d20+15

[Eldan]

The devil's grin spreads even wider.
"Oh, very good, very good." He smacks his lips a few times, thinking.
"We have a problem. Currently, you're too suspicious. There will be nothing I can say that will assure you, will there? If I make more promises, you will just think there are more loopholes somewhere. I am not looking to cheat you. You will have the souls you are looking for and you will keep them. I will not otherwise seek to punish you, pursue you or make your lives difficult. After this, we will be done with each other, no further involvement either way.
Then, the plan.
This will be complicated. It will come in several steps and I will not tell you all the details immediately, for security reasons. But I will tell you the essentials. First, we need to clarify some terminology, here. You all still have your souls. If you didn't, you'd be dead. For those of you who aren't the paladin, the problem is that your souls are promised to hell on your death. The Paladin, instead, is looking for someone else's souls.
What I propose is... organizing a bureaucratic mishap. Paperwork and souls will be thoroughly mislaid or even stolen. By you.
For this, we will need several things. Essentially, you will need a disguise, a reason to be in Mephistar in the first place and an opportunity to go through with the theft. All clear so far?"

[Tempestfury]

Dazenth frowned at this new. It wasn’t that he didn’t think he could trust the devil on his word now, or that the plan was a bad one. The plan was actually rather clever in that regard... no his problem was the entire theme of the plan that had been put in place. “That does sound like a solid plan, and I suppose you might ask of us to make a few edits in favour of yourself as well? My problem is, I’m a Paladin. This, infiltration and stealing isn’t exactly something I have much ability for. Am I here in case we have trouble in Mephistar or if the heist goes wrong? Because that’s all I can think of how I can aid in this plan.”

[Eldan]

"There will be things to kill, don't worry. As for Mephistar, well. If you get found out, you'll be dead. There won't be much even a small army of Paladins could change there. What you will do is walk into Mephistar openly and officially, with the Lord of the Eight's blessing.
You will be necessary in every step of the plan. I'll tell you step one. Things will be more clear then. The disguise."
He leans back and a self-satisfied grin spreads on his face as he savours the tension.
"You will kill a Pit Fiend."

[Vixsor Lumin]

Cetearn starts coughing, choking on the breath that had rushed to quickly down his throat. When he is finally able to speak, he looks incredulously at the devil. "Mr. Muscarum, you really expect us to be able to so, just like that?" he asks, snapping his fingers. "I would assume that others here are as formidable as myself, but to kill a pit fiend is an act that even Archons have trouble with!" he swears in the dark speech, and the mug between himself and Oz crumple in a shriek of twisted metal

used baleful utterance

[Tempestfury]

“A pit fiend?” Dazenth questioned, his surprise showing at the first step of this plan... and from how Cetearn reacted. One that he disliked quite a bit as well... through the Paladin had to smile slightly, saying. “Well, you’re nothing if ambitious Mr Muscarum. A Pit Fiend is not an easy enemy and I see why I am needed. Am I to understand that you have a plan of the Pit Fiend we are to face, or at least a target?"

[Mazic]

Did he say a Pit Fiend! Step one!? Was the first thought coming through Oz's mind as his eyes flashed open. He didn't even focus on keeping his act, a sober man taking notice of the dark speech that destroyed the mug between them. His face showed a mixture of fear and frustration that came from being told he was going into a suicide mission. "Well I am glad you enjoy the idea, Dazenth. Me, I am not so happy about walking into enemy territory to walk into a coffin for the enemy. I have ditched armies for safer missions. I am assuming that this plan involves no real back up, just your idea on how things will go and then leaving us to work out the details." Oz said with a growl in his voice. He gripped his hands tight as he forced himself to breath and calm down."At least stating it as step one seems a little insane. Most plans lead up to that have a ten step progression... one including getting a few more highly skilled people and a small army at the least." He finally said after settling his mind and his body following soon after. His eyes staring at the Devil, intent not to die trying to regain that was taken from him now or in the near future.

[Eldan]

Muscarum's grin is entirely too self-satisfied now. He even chuckles.
"Of course. And I'm even sending you to storm the gates of an infernal fortress on foot.
No, seriously now. There is a ritual that will make you a lot less visible in hell. No offence, Paladin, but you stand out like a burning torch. A burning torch in the darkness that is being waved into Hell's face by a screaming madman."
He pulls a stack of parchment out of a small leather satchel under his coat.
"We will need pit fiend blood. Luckily, I have relevant information. There will be a blood war skirmish at a known location, three days from now. The forces of Hell will be assaulting an abyssal scout camp on Gehenna. A pit fiend will be leading the forces of hell. Sadly, both he and the abyssal forces will be crushed by a very inconvenient and not at all foreseeable natural disaster. The pit fiend will barely survive, but at the last moment, opportunistic raiders will kill him. A very common occurence on Gehenna, sadly."

[Tempestfury]

“None taken.” Dazenth said their benefactor mentioned that he stood out like a bright light shone into the face of hell itself. He was a Paladin, that was what he was meant to do in all honestly. The fact he had to hide it, hide who he was still bothered him, but the Paladin believed that the prize was worth a small sacrifice on his part. When Muscarum explained how he planned for them to take out the Pit Fiend, Dazenth was surprised at the mention of this ‘natural disaster’ and decided not to ask about it. Instead, he simply said. “That sounds like a sufficient plan. A weakened Pit Fiend should be something four individuals of our power should be able to handle. At least, if we are off equal power that is.”

[Vixsor Lumin]

"I trust we wouldn't have all been brought here unless we had a chance of handling it, Your Highness." Cetearn sneered, simultaneously aknowledging Drazenth's nobility and disrespecting it. Turn his attention back to Mr. Muscarum he says, ""Sounds like more of a plan than I had yesterday. I'm in."

[Mazic]

"I have but one more question. How much blood are you needing for the ritual? Otherwise, I have learned to be sneaky and we may have a chance with it hurt. Oz still wasn't to happy with the plan. That was mainly because a hurt creature was always more suspicious of it surroundings. A devil was still going to be trouble. "knowing the amount might change things if something happens that is foreseen. Best laid plans are often defeated by the unknown forces.

[INoKnowNames]

"Hopefully not too much. I question how much we will be able to collect from a corpse or from the cold hard ground." Marina adds to Oz's concern, arms crossed and expression curious. Unlike him, however, while she was dis-satisfied with assisting this devil at first, his reassurance that they may yet regain what was taken from them has had an affect on her; enough that she is no longer ready to attack it as soon as it twitches incorrectly. She mostly ignored the jokes and jibs of others, mostly concerned with their host until his confident promise and the beginning of his scheme.

[Eldan]

Muscarum nods.
"Good question, that. Well, ideally, we'd have barrels of the stuff. Enough to bathe in. I know that won't happen. A good cup full should be sufficient as a minimum.
Anything more, or shall we go over the terrain?"

[Tempestfury]

“Only a fool judges someone for their birth, and not what they have done.” Dazenth said, staring back at Cetearn for his obvious disrespect for his royal status. Through the human paladin left it at that, not even mentioning he was serving a Paladin, not a Prince whilst here amongst them. Instead, he turned back to the devil and stated. “There is nothing more I can think of, and I would like to hear about the terrain so that we can plan ahead.”

[Mazic]

"Well I am glad we don't need to fill any bathtubs with the stuff. Not really my thing to bath in blood, no matter how good it is for the skin." Oz said, the last part being more sarcastic then the beginning. "Will you be supplying the container, or will we be sacrificing our finances for you as well?" Oz leaned back in his chair, he was being unfair to the devil and he knew it. Even if they were Evil, they did their evil for a cause. One that he was glad for, as Demon's running around would be far worse.

"I apologize, Mr. Muscarum. I am sure you are risking a good deal. More then our lives, but probably a few centuries of torture by a common foe. Or whatever you devils do to each other to punish each other. Be forced to give up cohorts and land." Oz seeming sincere his eyes focused on the Devil. "But yes, tell us about the Terrain. Good spots to cause ambushes, average wildlife, climate, territorial issues between natives, everything that could hinder and benefit our outcome. Any detail left out could cause a massive lose on our side. Do you have a map of said area? If not, with supplies I can make a basic map for us to follow."

Note Jack of all trade, half rank in all skills. Including geography and cartography, So taking 10 I can get at least a 12 skill roll.

[Eldan]

Muscarum produces a sheet of parchment and a quill and begins to sketch, roughly. Interestingly, his quill, though apparently loaded with reddish-brown ink, draws in several colours.
http://s27.postimg.org/nf7nupaup/path3772.png

"Very well. A rough sketch, you understand, but more won't be necessary here. Now listen well, this is the important part.
This entire operation will take place on a cold volcano on Gehenna's third layer. Be happy about that, you'll be neither burned with lava nor frozen to death. We'll talk travel arrangements just afterwards.
The forces of our Pit Fiend target, we will call him "S" for secrecy, will be trying to assault a contingent of Tanar'ri forward scouts in an area known as the Ashsore. It's a canyon with vertical cliff walls, perhaps two hundred feet deep, that rises at an angle of about 45° degrees up the slope of the volcano. The location is important: the valley is overlooked by this here: the Weeping Tower. We don't in fact quite know what lives in the Weeping Tower, we assume some kind of powerful Yugoloth lord. What we know is that anything that lies eyes on the tower, even powerful exemplars, is dead seconds later, so we only have second hand accounts of what it looks like. Secondly, magic behaves strangely around the tower and we can not entirely trust magic. You should be fine, it is only the really powerful stuff that is affected.
What this means is that both forces will have to carefully stick to the valley bottom and neither fly nor teleport. It's one of the few locations where a pitched battle will be more or less forced.
The bottom of the valley will be filled with between ten and twenty feet with a kind of acidic ash, so you won't be able to walk there. Instead, you will be waiting about halfway up one of the cliff walls, hidden. You'll have to set up a few hours before the battle begins.
Once the sides meet, they will fight for perhaps half an hour. You'll wait. At that point, a flash flood will come down the canyon. Given the nature of the plane, it will be a flash flood of potent acid. It should instantly kill most of the forces of both sides, though S should survive, if barely. At that point, you will make your way down, deal the killing blow and retrieve as much of the corpse as you can.
Questions?"

[Tempestfury]

Dazenth listened to the terrain and plan with rapt attention. Heat and cold didn’t bother him, due to a little trick he had learned long ago. The news about the acid however, alongside this tower did bother him. Significantly even. “If the valley floor is covered with acidic ash over our heads, and ‘S’ is going to be walking on the valley floor. How are we meant to get to him at all after the acidic flood?” He didn’t ask about how they would get situated in the cliffs however. That was for them to figure out.

[Eldan]

"Ropes, I imagine. Grappling hooks. A winch, maybe. I'm sure you'll figure something out."

[Vixsor Lumin]

"Welp!" Cetearn exclaims as he slaps his palms onto the table. He turns the motion into a quick stand, and looks Mr. Muscarum in the eye. "Kill the weakened pit fiend. Don't die in the process. Don't get eaten on the way there. I think you for your time sir." he bows kindly to the devil and turns to the others. "Shall we?"

[INoKnowNames]

"I had a few questions, if you would be willing to entertain my curiosity, Sir Muscarum." Marina grimly replies after a moment of deliberation. "Though since some of our number are so eager to kill themselves, would subtle communication on the way to this mission's beginning be impossible?"

[Tempestfury]

Dazenth was going to respond to Cetearn’s comment about getting along with it, before Marina finally spoke up after being silent thoughtout. The Paladin frowned at her attitude, disliking her comments about some being eager to die... a pessimistic attitude like that did no wonders to morale. Still, he said nothing and waited for her to continue. She was a respected warrior after all, and was his senior... so Dazenth was curious to see what she had to speak about.

[Eldan]

"Oh, by all means, ask."
There is a slight sneer on his face at Cetearn's eagerness.
"I can only hope at least one of you spent some thought on how you'll actually get to Gehenna and the canyon in question."
He puts a letter down on the table.
"This is a booked passage with one of the boatsmen of the Styx, he should drop you off within a handful of miles of your target and pick you up at a doorway just two streets from here. Don't look him in the eye and don't pay him if he demands more payment."

[INoKnowNames]

"A few stray thoughts did cross my mind, though I don't expect many answers. Mostly asking just to get them off my chest." she replies. She holds her fist in front of her face, and slowly raises each finger as she continues.

"First, how is the flood of acid to be triggered? Is it merely an aspect of that environment, or are any other forces to trigger it after both armies have begun to fight for a bit?

Second, what should be done should we be discovered before the operation can begin? Beyond trying not to die, anyway.

Third, what should happen if more of the enemy survives than anticipated? Or if "S" may have taken precautions against an acidic attack, if that were possible?

Fourth, is there a specific reason, beyond the hopeful ease provided by this situation, that this Pit Fiend is the one we are to battle? The specifics I'm sure are private, but I am curious if there is anything special about this being or if the blood of any Pit Fiend will do.

Fifth, part of me can't imagine that you are the leader of your operation. Pardon my rudeness if I vastly underestimate your presence and abilities, but I wouldn't expect someone of sufficient stature to directly meet with 'mere pawns'; I assume you would answer to someone else.

And finally." she finishes by re-raising her index finger after returning the others to a fist. "Is it possible after we finish working for you to receive a different reward than our soul, depending on it's value? This is the only one I would prefer.... almost NEED a definitive answer to." she remarks, closing her eyes during her final sentence.

[Tempestfury]

Dazenth frowned at Marina’s question, not exactly sure how to take them. He had to admit, the questions were valid and he likely should've thought of them himself. Through Dazenth would be the first to admit that he tended to be a little rash and have not much for-thought himself. Those questions he didn’t mind all that much, indeed it was thinking of questions such as these that made Dazenth respect Marina. No, it was the last question which worried him... was she willing to sacrifice her soul for his brother’s? He was getting that back however... was it something else she had in mind? The paladin made a note to see if he could talk to her about it later.

[Vixsor Lumin]

Cetearn throws his head back and sighs exasperatedly. "Go to the place. Kill the thing. Don't get killed in the mean time. Why does this have to be more complicated than that?!?

[INoKnowNames]

"Because if we fail, we spend our remaining existence in torturous, unbearable agony. And forewarned is forearmed. A little patience won't kill you." Marina hisses in Cetearn's direction.

[Vixsor Lumin]

"Well knew what was happening to our souls when we made our deals. If I died this very second, I would be in the exact same position as I was yesterday." Cetearn says, his hands gripping the chair in front of him. "I find being at rock bottom to be a very liberating experience. Things can only get better. The longer we stand around wasting time, the less we have to actually get into position." he is silent for a second before throwing himself back into his chair in a frustrated lump.

[Eldan]

Muscarum grins, again, at the almost-altercation.

"Well. Floods of acid do naturally occur on Gehenna, though rarely. In this case, it will be magically caused by a group of raiders eager to get at the two group's weapons.

Second, run. If you try combat or bribery, you will merely provide some short-term amusement to whichever group finds you.

Third, you'll be screwed.

Fourth, any pit fiend will technically do, but this one is a personal enemy. Also, he is in circumstances very carefully engineered so you can kill him.

Fifth, that wasn't a question.

Sixth, we can talk about additional rewards later, but they are possible."

[INoKnowNames]

A trickle of blood lines the corner of Marina's lip and runs down her cheek, as she bites down on her teeth, all but ready to attack Cetearn for his ignorance and obnoxiousness. But Muscarum's response draws her attention entirely away from Cetearn before she can free her whip from her waistline. As she listens to him, her anger drops from a boil to a simmer, and she relaxes her nerves.

"To be placated by a fiend..." she shakes her head, before looking again a Cetearn. "Not everyone here wasted their souls the way it appears you have. Some of us were cheated, some without even a choice in the matter. I don't know of you, but for me 'Rock Bottom' is if I die without making things right, and an impatient, drunken fool will not spoil one of the few promising leads I have." she spits in his direction, before turning to Muscarum. "Thank you for indulging my curiosities. I'm more or less ready." she nods to the devil.

[Mazic]

Oz had sat quietly for this time with his eyes moving between the group as they spoke, allowing the three of them to argue and lash out at each other. His time in the military taught him that sometimes letting people but heads was a good thing. Struggle between people could often be settled with a good old fashion fist fight. He had taken notice to Marina's hand, even though attention was taken away from Cetearn, it had the look of wanting to grab the weapon on her. He was glad to see she could calm herself, even though it was through pain given to herself.

"At the end of the day we will never know the reasoning why we each offered our souls. Some people are lucky enough to get what they want. Now we all want to break the contract we made. And we are being hired by this gentleman. So effectively we are mercenaries in this work. So if there is no other questions, I would like to quote one of you... Go to the place. Kill the thing. Don't get killed in the mean time. Oz said standing and pushing in his chair. "Now I would like to go over what basic equipment we all carry, just so battle plans can be made as well as traveling plans. I have two weeks worth of rations encase hunting becomes difficult, as well as two hundred feet of rope which may help with escaping the acid flood. After stating, I suggest we start moving, we can discuss fighting style later... or even let a encounter determine what we notice of each other, for those who like to remain secretive." His hand then made sure the map made for them was finished by the magic quill before checking the ink, wanting to make sure it was dried before rolling up the parchment. His hand then went to letter that was given by Muscarum. "What is the name of this Boatman? So we don't get on the wrong boat and end up being taken to Celestia, or one of the other infinite planes." This was his final question before heading towards the door, knowing that they would just have to trust the info to be true as it was, but before touching the door he turned to the devil "And I speak for myself for this. Thank you for providing a opportunity. I am sure you have your own goals, but you still offered it.

[Eldan]

Muscarum shows you out with lazy wave of his hand after giving you the boatman's letter and a small, parchment-wrapped package that he says is your key to a portal just around the corner.
It is an arch of blackened bricks, once part of a fallen foundry, scarcely knee-high and you have to get on all fours in the dust and ash to get through when you see the tell-tale flicker of air that announces the portal has been opened.

The weather in Sigil mostly varies between unpleasantly wet and cold and uncomfortably moist and warm. But as you step through the portal, the cold hits you like a blade. The wind does not go around you, but cuts straight to the bone and there is a flurry of biting snowflakes and grey ash in the air, the flakes stinging where they hit unprotected skin. The ground is is a treacherous slope of scree and loose dust, rubble twisting and sliding under every step.
There are ragged blades of igneous rock, twisted into bizarre, flowing shapes like trees or grasping hands or windblown cloaks, bursting up through the loose material.
Even with just the wind and the stinging ash, it would be hard to see, but it is also almost perfectly dark, with only a vague, grey illumination coming from a dead and empty sky.

As you look around, you see what must be the local branch of the Styx: oily, black liquid, not flowing so much as oozing through muddy ash. It is only a couple of steps wide, looks no more than inches deep, and yet, there is a barge on it and, standing at the prow, the ferryman, wrapped in his grey cloak, grasping the pole with a skeletal hand.

[Tempestfury]

Dazenth had decided to be silent during the rest of the conversation, feeling that he would have nothing more constructive to add and didn’t want to risk getting drawn into an argument. Having a falling out right at the start would do no good to the attitude and morale of the group. Through when they stepped into Sigil and it was revealed to be bitterly cold, the Paladin cursed under his breath, wishing he had bothered to ask. Still, Dazenth closed his eyes and tried to focus on his well of magic, to draw on it to fight back against the chill. Whilst armour such as his full-plate got in the way of using magic, Dazenth was pretty sure if he took his time about it, he would be able to use it effectively without having to take off his armour.

So, Full-Plate has a 35% ASF and I want to use Endure Exposure, can I just lengthen the casting time in order to use my invocation?

[Mazic]

Oz made sure to grab the package as he made his way out as well as pack, following the directions to the portal. Having been warned it would be cold, by the mention of the frozen volcano, he was glad he was prepared for a cold place. They were in a hurry, meaning there was no time to change solely into his winter clothing, but that wouldn't stop from putting on the basics that could at least keep a portion of him warm.

OZ could remember a time he wasn't so lucky and was unprepared. It was a simple escort mission, leading a group of priests on a humanitarian mission being lead by a man names.... Gregor? Oz seemed stuck on the name of the person involved, but then again after time the names no longer mattered. One of the priests he was traveling with showed concern that he was going in his basic clothing and armor. Oz was younger then and made foolish choices, which lead to him nearly getting hypothermia and frostbite after going into the colder climates and into the mountains. If it wasn't because of the warm gear and the mystic healing of the priests he would have frozen lost limbs. Now he made sure to carry warmer cloths with him encase his adventures would bring him to the cold.

Oz's hand went behind him to his pack and brought it before him. His hand going into his handy haversack, quietly calling for his wool cap, heavy cloak, and winter's blanket. They would be easy to slip on while walking through the portal. And by the gods he was glad he did. Wrapping himself in the blanket still felt like he was being stab by the cold. Every breath felt like it was slowly freezing his throat more and more. The mix of dust and ash in the air stung his eyes and the darkness was something he would have to accommodate for on their travel. He could see the ferryman waiting on his boat for them, the Styx so close. Just the idea of being ferried on them gave him a slight fear, great warriors could be born from it... if the touch didn't kill you. At least that is what he remember from legends mostly. He turned toward his fully armored companion and wondered how well he would survive in such a place, but he was a hearty fellow and could possible survive as long as they found a way to keep warm. His eyes instead turned to the other companions that would follow. His instinct of being a man felt he need to make sure Marina Survive, but his training told him not to care for her just on that premise... nor to underestimate her because of it. Cetearn, he didn't appear to be trained for such hard weather, but he may have a way to keep himself warm. If not... Oz would hate to risk freezing but sometimes sharing resources was the only true was to survive.

If you allow even a small bonus opposed to the +5 from the winter cloths, I am fine with that... as well as none because I have only covered my head and body with warmer cloths. My limbs are still in danger of freezing.