(IC) Old Anteirobrahd-by-the-Spiral

[batsharkgrapple]

Old Anteirobrahd mostly existed already when we found it. It has stood by the Spiral for as long as anyone can remember (written history only seems to go back about three hundred years or so). The black tar streets of Coppershroud Alley and Mugger's Pinky are built upon ancient soil, but beneath that? Bones. Rats who grew fat on the starving children of an empire which rose and fell before the city was even named. Trade comes in from Capricornius-Tempo to the north, and the peasantry whisper that the elfs still hold dominion over the waterfall-lands and Lunarshards to the south-east.
But what else is out there?
Monsters. Technology from a foreign culture, rusting in the dirt. Riches, coins of Occultum, Orichalcum, and solid Octarine. Those who don't find death inside the city will surely find it outside.

---

A bald vulture crows atop a slanted cottage. It is watching a starving man pushing a cart of half-rotted vegetables. Here in Old Anteirobrahd, the sun is bleeding to death on the horizon, and the sky is a home for buzzing summer insects. In Southern Old Anteirobrahd, the cult-mongrels of the Scriptorium Bowery sing shrill riddles as they go about the gloom, slipping stiletto dirks between ribs. In the Bitterwalks, a bard plucks staccato on a foreign instrument, inviting the moon's presence. The vermin run from whipping balls of tumbleweb, blown from the infested avenues of the Street of Leng. Beneath the city, in the Olive Undercity, bizarre merchants with grey skin curse the new rulers of the city, the Selecum Secretis, saying rosaries for the Old Queen, the Pallid Emperor, and the Dragonking.

---

The Alchemist's Guild is a collection of ramshackle cottages of grey stone, fading red roofs, and Gothic wrought iron fences. Smokes from the myriad chimneys, some greasy, sparkly, some thin and streaky, coalesce in the evening clouds, mixing into all manner of curious shades. This guild is a mixing pot of experimental chemistry, and it offends all the senses.

Brother Mickelin, a respectable senior alchemist, has invited Quelle the elf inside his cottage to observe his nightly experiments. He is a lean man, with receding grey hair and a beak nose. He wears a uniform typical of the senior alchemists, a satin periwinkle blue robe; a pointed hood sits unworn on a nearby recliner.
Brother Mickelin was once known to Quelle's master, Gilan Anderbar, and has informed the elf that his door is always open, out of respect for Gilan. The halfling Django is also here, looking for work, maybe a bit out of place, surrounded by odd instruments and strange reagents. A copper plated fireplace crackles in the corner. A swordfish skeleton hangs in the ceiling. Flasks of neon purple liquid simmer on the shelf.
Mickelin is mixing a thick brown sludge with a handful of dry beans, in a pot over the fire. He has promised to discuss paying work with the halfling after completing the latest iteration of this compound. He seemed a bit tense this morning, but certainly the presence of other people, even near strangers, is putting him at ease.

Outside Brother Mickelin's run down cottage, about a block away, the cleric Alden Trask walks the cobbles of the Eyeless Road. The odd vagrants of the Southern City are here, of course, but they are thin in number. Few prefer the streets by the Alchemist's Guild as their regular haunt (the often foul smells of chemistry drive them away) but lately and on this afternoon, the numbers are even fewer than normal. The few that are here have wide eyes, and are staring down all passerbys with mute apprehension. There is a group of peasants; two middle aged men, a woman, and an old doberman, sitting on the stairs of an abandoned hut. There is a couple holding hands; a pair of young adult men, one with a single green iron pauldron on his shoulder and a sword at his belt, the other trying to get a fire started in a barrel.

[Luccan]

Quelle watches the alchemist's work with keen interest. It was lucky he was still alive; Master Gilan was older, for a human, and though she respected his great knowledge and skill, there was always a worry in her mind that he or any of his acquaintances could drop dead without a moments notice. Brother Mickelin, I'm curious as to what you hope to achieve with this mixture. She tried to keep her questions minimal and relevant. Anderbar had drilled in the importance for magic-users to be able to get to the heart of a problem quickly and that started with asking the right questions without getting sidetracked by meaningless banter.

[OdeMx]

Django sighs and hums showing little to no interest in Quelle and Master Gillian, in reality he is taking mental notes of every item that might be worth something to someone else.

"So, Master Gillian, you where telling me about this job and downpayment... can we continue so I get started?"

[batsharkgrapple]

Without looking up from his mixture, stirring it with a wooden spoon, Brother Mickelin responds. This mixture is a curative, for a disease affecting a commune of peasants. Highly infectious. Not to worry though, the guards have them restricted to the Red-Liberty Triangle. They're calling it Greyspit. As if the folk in this district don't have enough to worry about.
Looking about, Django spots a few things of value. The three bottled purple liquids on the shelf look interesting. There is also a miniature tank, inside is a preserved fetal creature floating in a sickly yellow solution. Django spots the old man's coinpurse, but this is on a table in his line of sight. When the halfling speaks up, Mickelin turns around, a frown on his face. Ah, yes. Quite. I did have a problem I suspect you'll be able to help with. As for the down payment, I ordinarily wouldn't be so soon to part with my gold, but if you're in the company of Quelle, then I suppose you're trustworthy. Mickelin pauses, and looks out the window towards the street. I'm waiting on a delivery. It's of a sensitive nature.

[OdeMx]

Ah, yes. Quite. I did have a problem I suspect you'll be able to help with. As for the down payment, I ordinarily wouldn't be so soon to part with my gold, but if you're in the company of Quelle, then I suppose you're trustworthy.[/COLOR] .[/COLOR]

Thank you Maese Michellin, alas, rather than thinking of your gold as losing it, you should think in an alchemical way, you are just transforming it

[Quagmire]

Aldern walked down the deserted street, shivering in his thin tunic. He sees the couple, noting the sword one of them carries. He meanders down the street, eventually ending up at the barrel they are lighting. He pulls a handkerchief, decorated with the symbol of an ancient empire, down from where it was tied around his lower face.

“Would the two of you object if I were to warm my hands by the embers you’re kindling?”

[batsharkgrapple]

Brother Mickelin turns back to face the halfling's remark. A glimmer of recognition passes over his face, before he throws back his head and lets out a snort of laughter. He narrows his eyes. You, you're alright. Very well. I'm waiting on a delivery from the, ah, Undercity. The merchant's man was supposed to arrive two days ago, and I've never had any problems with him before. I wouldn't dream of going down to the Undercity, and I would be willing to pay a premium for the retrieval of my order, it is vital to my research. 70 gold pieces for the retrieval, and I can give you 25 now. However, before I send you away, I insist you take Quelle and ideally a few others with you. I could not consent to send a man to the Undercity alone, especially not a creature as sharp witted as you.
A puff of amber smoke issues from his pot.

---

On The Eyeless Road, in the dying evening shadows cast by the eyeless sculptures atop brick pillars that line the street, Alden approaches the the pair by the fire. The golden haired man kindling the fire says nothing. He looks up at you, with the hollow eyes of a trauma survivor, and keeps tending to the fire. The man with the green pauldron rests his hand on his sword at your approach, but after appraising you (and your lack of weaponry) he gives you a look of perhaps pity, and gestures for you to approach. Please, be my guest sir. The southern streets grow cold at evenings, and there's safety in numbers these days, haven't you heard? The man smirks at what he clearly intended as a good natured joke, but his partner by the fire makes a sound like a whimper, and the man looks down, ashamed.

[OdeMx]

The Undercity can be a bit dangerous, but me and Quelle have the right people to make the retrieval and be back sound and safe

Its 25gp enough to equip our Party?

Maese Mickellin, could you please provide us the details about your order and courier so we can quickly get our group together and depart?

[Luccan]

Quelle nods and gives the halfling a smile I'll be happy to accompany him, Brother Mickelin. She rests her hand on the handle of her flail Can't be too careful. Where might we find more allies?

[OdeMx]

Can't be too careful. Where might we find more allies?

Our Aldern is just outside, we where looking for something else down the road, he will join Us.

[batsharkgrapple]

Spoiler

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25 gp isn't too much, really only enough for a suit of leather, or maybe a few daggers, maces, clubs or pole weapons, so it should do on a budget.

Mickelin coughs. Three able bodied folk should be fine, but there are always men-at-arms looking for work around Bitterwalks, if you fear the odd folk in the city beneath, and I wouldn't blame you if you did. Mickelin sidles over to his coinpurse, counts out a handful of golden coins, most of them scratched and grimy, and hands them to Quelle. My merchant goes by the name, 'The Ravishment of Many Shades'. These odd monikers are oft the way of the people in the Undercity. He wears a woven cloak of maroon, hemmed with dusty teal tassels. You can find him in an avenue called Your Senses Are False. He was supposed to have a servant deliver a locked coffer, containing curios relevant to my studies.

[Quagmire]

Aldern holds his hands over the crackling fire, letting the warmth return to his fingers. He snickers at the swordsman's joke, and then smiles sympathetically at the blonde one by the fire.

Safety in numbers, and strength as well. At the very least you two have a sword, a fire, and one other person. That already counts for something.

His face turns somber again, as Aldren’s glance drifts to the stones of the street.

I assume the thing we’re seeking safety from is whatever lives beneath the roads. Being the penniless fool I am, I’m actually seeking out whatever this thing is.

[batsharkgrapple]

The man by the fire looks over his shoulder at another group of vagrants. As long as me and Madog are together, I know things will be okay.

Madog side eyes Alden, also holding his hands to the fire. Well you're in good company then sir, we're all fools here, with not a copper to our names. Madog looks in the direction of the northern city, a dreamy expression on his face. Then, he whispers. Of course, there used to be a lot more of us. We're trying to stay away from Sanker Street, down the road. More people are going missing around there. This road seems safer.

[OdeMx]

Spoiler

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25 gp isn't too much, really only enough for a suit of leather, or maybe a few daggers, maces, clubs or pole weapons, so it should do on a budget.

Mickelin coughs. Three able bodied folk should be fine, but there are always men-at-arms looking for work around Bitterwalks, if you fear the odd folk in the city beneath, and I wouldn't blame you if you did. Mickelin sidles over to his coinpurse, counts out a handful of golden coins, most of them scratched and grimy, and hands them to Quelle. My merchant goes by the name, 'The Ravishment of Many Shades'. These odd monikers are oft the way of the people in the Undercity. He wears a woven cloak of maroon, hemmed with dusty teal tassels. You can find him in an avenue called Your Senses Are False. He was supposed to have a servant deliver a locked coffer, containing curios relevant to my studies.

Quelle, please split the coins, Ill go get Aldern and buy some gear and supplies for us, could you please go find the men-at-arms @ Bitterwalks? I know the good ole Ser Fallen of grace of the far awayland hangs around and is always looking for adventure.

After Quelle hands me the coins Ill go out to check if Aldern has find somehting else of the rumor we both have been investigating.

[Luccan]

Quelle, please split the coins, Ill go get Aldern and buy some gear and supplies for us, could you please go find the men-at-arms @ Bitterwalks? I know the good ole Ser Fallen of grace of the far awayland hangs around and is always looking for adventure.

After Quelle hands me the coins Ill go out to check if Aldern has find somehting else of the rumor we both have been investigating.

She hands Django enough coins to arm the four of them and taps the handle of her flail again I'm already armed so don't worry too much about a weapon for me. Unless you somehow have enough for an extra polearm I suppose. We'll meet at Bitterwalks? She nods respectfully to the old alchemist Thank you for tonight's demonstration, Brother Mickelin. I'm hoping to learn even more in the future. We'll retrieve your delivery as quick as we can. She waits for Django to confirm their meeting spot before leaving.

Spoiler: ooc

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I'm not as familiar with prices, but I assume we won't want more than one or two men-at-arms, if we take any. I'm hoping we can say Quelle knows about how much coin to give Django and still be able to hire some muscle for the night.

[OdeMx]

She hands Django enough coins to arm the four of them and taps the handle of her flail again I'm already armed so don't worry too much about a weapon for me. Unless you somehow have enough for an extra polearm I suppose. We'll meet at Bitterwalks? She nods respectfully to the old alchemist Thank you for tonight's demonstration, Brother Mickelin. I'm hoping to learn even more in the future. We'll retrieve your delivery as quick as we can. She waits for Django to confirm their meeting spot before leaving.

Spoiler: ooc

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I'm not as familiar with prices, but I assume we won't want more than one or two men-at-arms, if we take any. I'm hoping we can say Quelle knows about how much coin to give Django and still be able to hire some muscle for the night.

Spoiler: ooc

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@Luccan: I understand there is another player that is a fallen knight/warrior? I supposed DM batsharkgrapple was sending us to get his character.

@DM batsharkgrapple: Could you please half decently equip us with that gold?maybe we can speed up the process that way. Guess cheap 2nd hand equipment should do, specially considering atm we are half naked and with DC high letality we might be avoiding combat for a bit

Alright Quelle, we meet at Bitterwalks pub then, we need to fill our stomach and plan before leaving

I say my goodbyes to Maese Mickelsen, and head out to the street looking for Alden... he is already talking to some bums, I notice one of them has a sword, I put one of my nasty huge nails under my sleeve and quietly approach the group from behind, considering they are all looking at the fire, they have little chance to spot me and I listen to their conversation.

[Quagmire]

Aldern starts talking in a whisper as well, but this time it’s an excited whisper. A company indeed, my friend, us copperless vagrants have to help each other out. Trying to avoid those streets is a sound strategy, but I think the key to staying safe here is knowledge. If we find out what’s causing the disappearances we can figure out how to protect ourselves.

He leans in towards them and runs his hand through the patchy hair covering his chin, voice starting to take an almost conspiratorial tone. I’m thinking of an expedition, to find out what’s really happening with these disappearances. I don’t think anyone here has coin to offer, but if you know anything that can help me down there I’ll make sure to tell you two anything I find out.

[batsharkgrapple]

Spoiler: ooc

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We have a few more players, but I haven't heard from them recently. They'll jump in whenever they can. Unless you want some hirelings, I'd say the three of you will do.

Here's a list of some of the stuff you can afford. Keep in mind what your class' proficiencies are. Halflings can't use weapons that aren't small, Clerics can't use edged or pointed weapons, and Elfs can use anything.
Battleaxe, 7gp, 1d8.
Handaxe. 4gp, 1d6. Small.
Club. 3gp, 1d4.
Staff. 5gp, 1d6.
Mace. 5gp, 1d6.
Warhammer, 5gp, 1d6.
Dagger. 3gp. 1d4. Small.
Halberd. 7gp. 1d10.
Short Sword, 7gp, 1d6. Small
Sword, Normal. 10gp. 1d8.
Sling. 2gp. 1d4. 30 bullets are 1gp.

I'll post what hirelings cost, and which ones we find this evening to choose from, in my next post.

Before leaving the Alchemist's Guild, the elf and halfling agree to meet at an old haunt, The Sunken Squall, for some stew, and to scope out the place for hireable muscle. Before heading to the Lilac Markets down by the docks, however, Django decides to investigate the strangers that Aldern is speaking with.

Outside, on The Eyeless road. Django creeps up in the shadows, seemingly unseen.

At the cleric's words, Madog and his partner turn to each other. The man by the fire seems deeply unnerved, and proceeds to have a staring contest with the ground. Madog however, pulls a bit closer to Aldern, and whispers. Sanker street. I know of at least three who have disappeared. The beggar who used to live in the abandoned Cafe. The other two I don't know much about, I think one was only a child. Madog gestures to a nearby sewer grate. There's something else. A manhole on Sanker Street. We think that might have something to do with the noises beneath the street.

[OdeMx]

Spoiler: Gear

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Warhammer, 5gp, 1d6. --->Aldern

Halberd. 7gp. 1d10.--->Quelle (can work as 10ft pole, right?)

Short Sword, 7gp, 1d6. Small---> Django
Sling. 2gp. 1d4. 30 bullets are 1gp.-->Django

If we can afford basic dungeonering gear with the remaining GP we get it, else I understand that Undercity is a populated area, right? So that would do

I wait until I'm sure that the vagrants have give Aldern all the info we require and then I openly approach them and salute

[batsharkgrapple]

Spoiler: ooc

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Dungeon goods

[OdeMx]

Guess we won't take the halberd, anyway Quelle has a nice Flail. And we take:

3 short cloaks
Torches
Tinder box
10ft pole
2 slings

And we are set to go

[Quagmire]

Manhole on Sanker, I’ll make sure to check that out. Many thanks for the tip, if I make it out alive I’ll tell you all what I find. he says with a friendlier joking tone. After a bit more time, enough to get warm and make a bit of small talk, Aldern pulls his handkerchief over his lower face and waves goodbye.

May the blessings of the Black Quartz protect you.

When he finishes talking to them, he rejoins the rest of his group if he can find them and tells them that he found out that people have been disappearing near Sanker street and a manhole might be the sources of the noises people have been talking about.

[Luccan]

While waiting at the Sunken Squall, Quelle keeps an ear out for any more on the rumors she has heard in town, as well as anything that might be said about "The Ravishment of Many Shades" or "Your Sense Are False". If some ill fate had befallen either recently, it would be good to have warning.

[batsharkgrapple]

Spoiler: hireling info

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The two most commonly recruited hirelings are:

Non-combatant humans who serve as torch-bearers, porters, potion-testers, door-spikers, etc. Suggested rate of pay: 5sp/day.
Zero-level human men-at-arms. Suggested rate of pay: 1gp/day.
In rare instances, the party may also recruit:

Zero-level demi-human (dwarf, elf, or halfling) men-at-arms. Suggested rate of pay: 3gp/day.
First level human henchmen (fighter, cleric, or magic-user). Suggested rate of pay: 1/3 share of employer's treasure.

After stopping by the Lilac Markets and picking up equipment, the group heads to Bitterwalks.
The Sunken Squall, like most of the derelict taverns, cafes, and beer holes of Bitterwalks, is an emblem of the South of Old Anteirobrahd; dirty, foul, and tense with an air of violence. A gusty gale blows through the tavern occasionally. Outside, the sounds of blows, shouting, and gurgling from the fighting pits outside.

Ale is flowing free tonight, as much as you want (within reason) to celebrate the return of a veteran adventurer who has been questing for three years, August St. Morrdum. Though August is not currently present. If your tastes a bit fancier though, a few bottles of Black Damascus are open (a fine black wine flavored with squid ink). 1gp/glass. They say the owner of the coastal vineyard that produced this wine went mad, rampaging on his servants with a shiv of sharpened bone.

Quelle keeps a pointed ear out for rumours, and because of the free flowing libations, rumours are everywhere, to the point where you definitely miss plenty. None about the Undercity though, and its mysterious merchants and sinister avenues. The people above dont often speak about the people below.

"Fransworth has the Greyspit. That's another one stuck at Red-Liberty Triangle. What a waste."
"Your nephew Carter, he's built firm and strong? He should sign up with Lady Callisthe at the White Stemmed Rose, for that march. I hear she's rewarding each loyal soldier with a ring of gold and jewels."
"Did you hear about that bloody great beast those brutes at the White Stemmed Rose paraded in from the wastes beyond? Such unnatural things belong outside Anteirobrahd."
"The wild queen wishes to kill me. Her children wish to eat me."

As for hire-able folk, you scout the place out:
Werson, Man-At-Arms, Armed with Club & Dagger, wearing Leather. Asks for 1gp/day. An ambidextrous fortune seeker.
Ardash, Torchbearer. Has a dagger and not much else, save for a small mirror which he often inspects himself with. Asks for 5sp/day. A stable boy who wants to see the big city.

[OdeMx]

I provide the cloak, sling and warhammer to Aldern and while listening to his story. Then we go to rendesvpuz with Quelle.

[Luccan]

When the others arrive, Quelle speaks quietly over her ale Not much to say of these offerings, as far as extra hands go. We shan't be long below, I think, and I don't favor taking a farm boy with us. It might be good to keep Werson in mind for future endeavors, though. I've not heard anything about Mickelin's merchant, either, though I suppose that's no surprise. She shares the other things she heard as well, though with less care towards secrecy. I hope Mickelin's mixture is effective. This Greyspit sounds foul.

[Quagmire]

I agree, as good as the extra help would be I don’t think we need it for this first delve. If I do well in my adventuring, the Monument Below will grant me the power to heal others, and that should be good for the morale of anyone I hire.

Aldren holds the hammer, feeling it’s weight in his hands. He sips at his ale while contemplating the new equipment they have.

So this is part of the payment for going into the undercity and finding a package that an alchemist was supposed to get. Do any of you know how to get into the undercity, or is the manhole I found the only lead? Because as much as I want to deal with the disappearances, getting paid gets us the resources to do that.

[OdeMx]

I give Quelle her cloak, sling and torch while hearing her info. I agree with both of them, the 3 of us should do for this errand.

I believe we need to set our way to the Olive Entrance to get access to Undercity, considering its below the city, most likely won't make a difference if its day or night, so we might as well leave now, unless anyone in our group thinks otherwise.

[batsharkgrapple]

The group ruminates on the next course of action, whether to pursue the missing people, related to the sewer manhole in Sanker Street, or the retrieval of Brother Mickelin's package from a merchant in the Undercity.
There are a couple of entrances to the Undercity known to the group. They're like open secrets, usually behind false bricks, basement hatches in abandoned buildings, or holes beneath the great arching roots of garden trees.

While the group is discussing plans, a section of the wall on the other side of tavern, rotted milk-wood, collapses violently! People curse and shout, fleeing from the area. A combatant from the slag pits outside has burst through the wall. He is a well built figure with olive skin and long oily black hair. He wears a leather kilt and two leather straps making an 'X' on his chest. On his head is a spiky cage-like helm, severely inhibiting his vision. He has a wickedly serrated dagger strapped to each hand. He seems enraged or blinded by battlelust; The fighter swings blindly, howling in rage!

---

* post roll count doesn't match database

[batsharkgrapple]

Spoiler: Initiative

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Party Surprise (1d6)[1]
Berserk Fighter Surprise (1d6)[4]

Berserk Fighter HD (2d8)[6][8](14)

I'm doing individual initiative by the way, so everyone go ahead and roll d6 + dex