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[Arzarael, Archfiend]

The City of Sigil, or "The Cage" as referred to by its inhabitants, is a situated atop a Spire on the Outlands. There, barricaded from all forms of magical entry save the portals which dot the cityscape, the city exists as a paradox - touching almost all of the outer planes but ultimately belonging to none. It is this unique form of entry which makes Sigil a hub of planar trade and commerce, free from the scourges of raging armies and battling legions that ravage the outer planes.

It was another clear day in the Sigil, the fourth in a week and the air shimmered with the sweet scent of rain from the night before. Even the Foundries, which were usually choked by thick palls of soot and ash, remained relatively clean, the dirt having washed into the streets where the homeless berks and opportunistic cutters made their living. Of course, not all of the bloods in the Cage liked the clear weather and many lingered in their holes and favourite drinking places, away from the bright light outside. The Red Cutter, wedged in a thin strip of land between the Hive and Lower Wards served as one refuge for those avoiding the weather. The outside of the building seemed unremarkable - a brown cast iron finish with a thick layer of soot covering the shatter-proof windows shaped like a three-leaf clover. A peeling wooden sign, with the name of the establishment carved in a dozen different tongues was erected outside, conveniently covered by a puddle of drying vomit.

The inside tavern however, was more accommodating and visitors could quickly see the bar being divided into two areas. On the left side of the tavern, were several long tables and benches obviously designed for group drinking and cavorting while on the right side, there were several round tables and chairs made for dining. A dimly lit stage separated the two areas but today, it remained empty as if the performers were still recovering from the night before. Ironically, the lack of entertainment didn't stop a small crowd of patrons from filling the tables and behind the bar counter, a flustered-looking succubus barmaid was drying the wooden tankards with a stained washcloth and a decent amount of elbow grease.
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Unique Outsider
Level 10 PLUSHIE Moderator
CR: 45
-Arzarael, Archfiend

[Attilla]

MARITHRYS
Marithrys, a 6-foot-tall... "man"?... probably enters the room more quieter than appearances would seem, as he or they are currently clad in a nearly totally concealing suit of mechanus gear, armour made from interlocking gears, wheels and plates that provide more than enough defence. He currently has his shield strapped upon his back and his weapons sheathed or otherwise at his belt as he walks in, eyeing the room through his helmet. He looks to see if any extremely proclaimed or even evangelical believers of any powers are about as he walks in but will otherwise continue in, looking for an empty seat and likely moving towards the bar if nothing immediately strikes his attention.

[AbuDhabi]

VICTOR

Victor wasn't a big man, compared to many of the planar travellers who came to Sigil, but he was still a few inches taller than the average, hunched hiver. He carried himself proudly wherever he went, perhaps to make up for the lack of impressive garments - he wore clothes nobody would want to steal - simple, dull and worn. His only possession that made him different from other random passerby was the two-handed sword he had strapped across his back. Though of advanced age, and most of his hair graying, he looked like he could wield the blade just as surely as any young basher - perhaps better.

Walking slowly, he patrolled the streets of the Lower Ward, as was his custom. Even though years have passed since he was associated with the Mercykillers, he would not abandon this particular habit. Keeping the place safer for people was just as much an obligation to him now, as it was before - just that now he had more freedom... sort of. The Guvners frowned upon vigilantes, and he wasn't going to seek out criminals in their holes to slaughter them with extreme prejudice. But if some berk thought he could rob someone in broad daylight, then well - he'd have to find a blacksmith to make him a nice hook hand. Fortunately, nobody seemed to that stupid right about now.

When he came upon the Red Cutter, he paused and looked inside. He didn't particularly like the Lower Ward, because it was crawling with demons and devils. He understood the concept of assumption of innocence, however, and gave them a wide berth whenever he could. Just that as far as he was concerned, having those outsiders in the city would not lead to nothing good. Still - they were here, and he'd have to cope somehow, life wasn't known to be easy.

Slowly slalloming through the throng of clients, Victor made his way to the bar.
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[Arzarael, Archfiend]

Marithrys was not a frequent visitor to the taverns around the Hives and he only visited the Red Cutter because a contact, a fellow Athar by the name of Praxus, went on about the imported Squid dish from the River Styx. Of course, the Red Cutter seemed fairly crowded as Marithrys entered and few of the patrons paid a second glance to his armoured frame. He thought he could see a few dustmen hanging around the bars, pressuring some hapless berk to donate his corpse after death and near the longtables, the Athar thought he could spot a minotaur bearing skull tokens and crude symbols of faith to its deity.

DM: Knowledge (Local) and spot check.
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Unique Outsider
Level 10 PLUSHIE Moderator
CR: 45
-Arzarael, Archfiend

[Attilla]

Spot check: 1d20+6 = 3 + 6 = 9
Knowledge(Local) check: 1d20+1 = 20 + 1 = 21

[Arzarael, Archfiend]

Victor remembered the Red Cutter from a rather nasty case several years back, during his Mercykiller days. A couple of drunken Doomguards had given the old dagger-in-the-belly treatment to a visiting merchant from the Upper Wards and the case caused an uproar among the Factions, with whom the merchant had many contacts. Victor still remembered the considerable trouble he had convincing the close-lipped patrons of the place to talk. As he slid into a vacant barstool, the barmaid turned in his direction. He knew her name well, or rather, the name she gave - Ishal. She hadn't changed much, with her hard red eyes and the mud coloured hair that she tied behind her head in a rough ponytail. Her off-white hessain blouse clung to her tawny skin and the top button was undone, giving patrons a good glimpse of her ample cleavage. Without the wings protruding from her back, she might have looked like an average hive dweller in her mid thirties, even though she could have easily changed her appearance with her powers. Victor suspected however, that Ishal favoured a rough, in-your-face attitude instead of the pretension common to many other fiends.

"Back 'gain Cutter?" She smirked, replacing the newly cleaned tankard on the rack. "Ain't wearing the Red Death badge no more eh?"
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Unique Outsider
Level 10 PLUSHIE Moderator
CR: 45
-Arzarael, Archfiend

[Arzarael, Archfiend]

Marithyrs vaguely recognised the minotaur as Aster Gnor, a brute infamous around Lower Wards for his brazen claims that he had his weapon blessed by Baphomet, the demonic minotaur god. Marithyrs suspected it was going to be unwise to cross the path of the brute. Many a Harmonium, after a drunken stupor, had tried to pick fights with Gnor only to end up with shattered limbs and in worse cases, a hefty fee for regenerating an entire skull. The Athar then made his way to the bar, where he noticed the succubus barmaid serving a grey man with a greatsword slung around his back.
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Unique Outsider
Level 10 PLUSHIE Moderator
CR: 45
-Arzarael, Archfiend

[Attilla]

MARITHRYS
Marithrys proceeds to the bar and waits until it is his turn to be served.
"So, basher, a blood told me that this place does a piking good stygian squid dish, I recall it being "unforgettable", if there's any here i'd like to try some, and maybe a drink that ain't just some bub. How much jink for that? And while i'm at it, anything interesting in the chant?"
He speaks in a deep and rather gravelly voice through his helmet, pondering if he should remove it, but really he likely only will when he is served food and drink.

[ilovefire]

Adalius Marinus

Adalius grinned to himself as he walked towards the Red Cutter. He was currently on a tavern-crawl, determined to visit and sample all the drinks from every single tavern in the multiverse--to keep himself busy, you understand. He had been slightly bored as of late, nothing serious, because he kept expecting something Big, something Important, and most importantly something He Had Not Encountered Before. A situation that was all three had yet to happen, though two of the three, or one of the three situations had been common. So he set out to visit all the pubs--he was currently about halfway down his list, which was really in no order in particular so as to maximize the chances of experiancing something new. Now, at this moment he was taking in the smells of the tavern as he entered, using his Sensate-trained nose to see if it differed from the usual tavern-smell--that is, cheap booze, sometimes expensive booze, vomit, and the occasional small furry animal. He then walked to the bar, sat down nearest the two most interesting people he saw (A shabbily-dressed man with a sword, and a man dressed in some sort of mechanus plate. "I'd like this place's best drink--and it's worst, but I've only got the jink for one, so for now I'll take your best!" He said cheerily once it was his turned to be served. He was humming to himself happily, since he'd never tried this tavern's drinks before.[/b]

[AbuDhabi]

VICTOR

Victor couldn't hide his discomfort at the succubus' observation, but it took more than that to truly rattle him. He was somewhat surprised the barmaid had remembered him, but he shouldn't be, really - fiends had indefinite lifespans, and usually memories to match. "No," he shook his head. "Not for a long time now. Ale," he added, putting a few silvers on the bar, and glancing at the two new arrivals - the heavily armoured basher, and the less-heavily armoured one.
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[Arzarael, Archfiend]

DM: Gather Information check from Marithrys.

Ishal scooped up the coins and slammed the wooden tankard of ale in front of Victor, causing a bit of the foam to spill onto the wooden surface of the bar. She then went to the back and returned with a steaming plate of braised squid tentacles and a glass of some bubbling purple liquid for Marithrys. "Eighteen gold." She said gruffly, ducking down the bar cabinet to retrieve a bottle of Maladominian spirits for Adalius. She poured him a tumbler and collected the jink before returning her attention to the Athar. "Plenty, cutter. 'cept unless you're one of them berks or barmies." Marithyrs waited for a while for an elaboration but Ishal already returned to cleaning the tankards with the stained washcloth.
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Unique Outsider
Level 10 PLUSHIE Moderator
CR: 45
-Arzarael, Archfiend

[Erik Mesoy]

The Sanctified Mind (TSM) (by suggestion of Attilla)

The githzerai who had once been called Karaminil and now thought of himself only as the Sanctified Mind let his overlength arms swing most of the way down to his feet as he surveyed the Red Cutter. They were partially covered by the githzerai habit that he wore as a matter of, well, habit. The topaz diadem holding his hood in place shone with about the same yellow light, in this case a rather dim one, as his eyes. What an interesting place, he thought as he approached the barman. "Sir," he said, speaking formally in the common planar language rather than the slang native to Sigil, "I assume you will provide me with drink if I provide you with coin. You may assume that I desire whatever drink you serve most often." The green-yellow mottled hand of the Sanctified Mind withdrew gold from some inner pocket and held it above the desk. Smiling, he asked politely: "Who is welcome here?"
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[Attilla]

Gather Information: d20 + 3 = 4 + 3 = 7

[AbuDhabi]

VICTOR

Victor nodded at the barmaid, and parked his ears towards the other denizens of the tavern. Like the apparently clueless gith that just walked in. Then, again, the gith peoples were mighty strange on the usual.
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[Arzarael, Archfiend]

The man TSM found himself talking to appeared to be well-versed in the art of liquor mixing and he appeared to be dressed as a barman too, with the leather apron and shirt sleeves rolled up revealing beefy arms covered with a thick layer of hair. He looked rather awkward at being addressed and after a moment of stoned silence, he ruffled his balding scalp. "Well, see, I ain't actually no tender. Just came here for a drink an' all bein' a blacksmith. Awfully sorry, chap. Talk to 'er." He jerked his thumb at the winged woman standing behind the counter who was cleaning a tankard with a washcloth. When the Githzeri turned back to the blacksmith fellow, the berk was already reeling towards the exit with a drunken stagger.

Marithrys started cutting into his plate of squid with the knife and fork and as he did so, he thought he could see a rolled up scrap of paper stuck into the gaping beak of the cooked cephalopod.
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Unique Outsider
Level 10 PLUSHIE Moderator
CR: 45
-Arzarael, Archfiend

[Attilla]

MARITHRYS

Marithrys idly chows down on his food and sips at his drink as he subtly pockets the slip of paper, he then begins to appraise the people near him, a knight-in-shiny-cloth, a strange individual (this description will likely change when we know for sure what the sensate looks like), and also a clueless gith appears to be heading towards his general direction after chatting up that smith. Marithrys will likely have a look at the paper when he thinks no-one is looking, and likely conceal it with the bulk of his armour anyway.

[Erik Mesoy]

Karaminil (TSM)

Slightly annoyed, the githzerai approached the succubus who appeared to be running the bar and spoke more shortly to her. "Pardon me. Some of your usual, please, so as not to inconvenience you unecessarily, and could you tell me who's welcome and not in this place?"
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[ilovefire]

Adalius Marinus

((Allright, here's a description since I forgot one earlier: Right now he's dressed in traveller's gear. He's got brown hair right now, rather unkempt but not sloppy. His eyes are a very, very bright green color, and are the most distinctive thing about him.))

The Sensate grins at the barmaid, and slowly sips the drink. As he sips, he takes note of all the different flavors and tastes that touch his tongue. Between sips, he starts to hum a little tune he picked up in... oh, what plane was it? Adalius couldn't quite remember. It was a happy tune, though, so he assumed it was from one of the upper planes.

[Arzarael, Archfiend]

"Have the jink and don't poke around." Ishal dipped the tankard she just cleaned under tap and a brackish swill poured into the container. A moment later, the swill started frothing and after a quick dash of something from a small red flask, it changed into a orange liquid with the consistency of matured mead. "Six silvers an' two coppers." She said.

The note Marithyrs found in the squid was quite difficult to open but when he did, it revealed a scrawled scribble, written with a thin charcoal.

[Attilla]

Marithrys
Marithrys puts the slip away and takes a moment to finish his meal and his drink, he then nods to the barkeep.
Well, I dare say they were right then, well I best be off. Cheers.
He stands, putting his helmet back on (previously being revealed as a human male with short black hair, bronzed and tanned skin, and green eyes) correctly as he heads out of the place, when away he pulls his shield out and puts it on before heading around to the back alley, all peery-like.

[Arzarael, Archfiend]

~Red Cutter~
As the barmaid and the armour clad fellow disappeared, Victor thought he could feel something reaching under his coat. For a moment, the former Mercykiller expected to grab the hand of whoever was bobbing him and remove it but he turned to face an immaculately dressed oriental with a red silk tie and adamantine cufflinks standing behind him. The man nodded in acknowledgement and pulled an olive bowler hat over one eye. "Didn't know you'd turn to the bub already." He glanced around, at the Sensate and the Githzeri dining beside Victor and he took the stool which Marithyrs had just vacated. "Any of you bloods want some spare jink on the side?" He inquired, now more directed at Adalius and Karaminil than Victor.

~Marithyrs~
The back alley was caked in a thick layer of filth and despite the recent rain, the Athar could still sense the sulfurous odour seeping from cracked pipes that ran up the sides of the delapidated slum buildings which so readily filled the Lower Wards. Occassionally, Marithyrs noticed sudden movements around building corners, only to see some dirtied children, probably knights of the post, skivving off into the dark urban jungle. Eventually, after crossing a puddle of yellow mud and stepping over the form of a sleeping bubber, he came to an alleyway stacked with empty wine barrels and ale kegs. The succubus barmaid was standing behind a barrel, her hands on one curvy hip while the other clutched a cigarette. She blew a wisp of smoke into the Athar's helmet.

"Brought a weapon along?" She asked, dropping the cigarette butt onto the ground and stomping it out with her bare foot.
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Unique Outsider
Level 10 PLUSHIE Moderator
CR: 45
-Arzarael, Archfiend

[Attilla]

Marithrys

He nods and indicates both a bastard-sword sheathed on his left and a crossbow tied at his right.
"More'n there's to see."

[Arzarael, Archfiend]

"Alright then cutter," Said the Succubus. She stared into the Athar's visor and he saw a pair of eyes which were a dark shade of lilac. "I'll let you in the dark. There's a blood I want you to handle. Turned stag on me, that bastard, and he's hunting me down since. I want you to fix him. Add him to the dead book, that is." She shifted her weight to one leg. "I can pay with junk or standard services. Works both ways."
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Unique Outsider
Level 10 PLUSHIE Moderator
CR: 45
-Arzarael, Archfiend

[Attilla]

Marithrys
"Who's this sod then? I ain't a ghost so I don't want this to end with me being given the rope, this ain't some high-up-man, is it? He from out-of-town? Out-of-touch? Or is he in the cage?"
Marithrys shifts his stance as he looks about and concentrates
"He human, or is he something else? And what faction is he from? I'd rather not find that out too late and have to face some music."

[Erik Mesoy]

Karaminil (TSM)

Having placed seven silvers on the bar for luck, Karaminil turned to the well-dressed man. "I could always use some, yes, but I have... conditions. Let's hear your offer." He sipped at the mead-like liquid.
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