Desire and the Dead

Seija Rautio (Tevish Szat)
Hexion (Storyteller)
Ram Furlow (Ace of Moxes)
Garamello Josk (Shockwave)
Sparrow (Squinty_Eyes)

Act 1: The Whispered Word

Location: Whispered Word, Hive District, Sigil

The tavern called the Whispered Word is filled with a susurrus of quiet voices. The detail of these conversations is unheard but their subject is clear – you and your fellow adventurers. It‟s a poor and hard worked band of berks that regard you, still stained with the grime of a long day's toi; A mix of collectors, rag-pickers, coffin-makers, bearers, mourners, wailers, and morticians. Many of them wear the shapeless grey robes of Dustmen.

The décor of the place matches the funerary nature of the people and the street outside; Skull-shaped lanterns, tables made from coffin lids, and curtains of gauzy grey shroud surround you. As you enter you notice a wrinkled old man behind a table in the far corner of the tavern points in your direction and nods towards the barkeep who in turn lays down the glass he was cleaning and approaches you.

A heavy-set bald man with wrinkled brown flesh and a wreck of a nose, the barkeep users you in out of the rain and smiles at you. "Welcome friends! Welcome. From the looks of you you are no mere patrons in my establishment. I trust you are here for the work?" He pauses for a moment with a curious look on his face as he inspects Seija and Ram. "Have to say I didn't expect sensates to be the ones to turn up not that I'm complaining mind. Anyway if it is indeed work you are looking for then join me at the back."

He sweeps out a broad arm towards a table at the back of the Word where two figures are already seated - the old man you saw point as you entered and another wearing the grey robes of a dustman.

Garamello nods his wet green and brown scaled head as he followed where the the barkeep lead, careful to keep his tail from bothering other patrons of the Whispering Word. Better to take care to not stir up senseless trouble, than to fight out of it, or worse, try to talk out of it later. Not that fighting itself was bad. But it didn't stop these few words when the barkeep mentioned a Sensate, "Sensate? Ah, hell,"

Being a Doomguard himself it wasn't unexpected if the tension was reciprocated.

When he reached the table he spoke once more. "Are you two part of the three Voices who are hiring?" he asks being quite direct.

As she followed behind her "companions", Hexion let out a small sigh.

When she had found the message in her room that very morning, she suspected she would be caught in some troublesome ordeal. When she first saw her "companions", she knew it to be true. On one side stood a lizardfolk whose clothing indicated his - or her? Hexion had hard time determining genders in the exotic race - allegiance to the Doomguards, and on the other stood an orc - perhaps half-orc? - male and a slender, human female the tavern keeper had identified as Sensates. Hexion had no doubt that they would squabble endlessly over fruitless matters throughout the trip to come.

Hexion let out another sigh, this one heavier than the last. This was not going to be enjoyable.

The old man nods at Garamello's question. "We are indeed the Voices. All three of us infact - as Bald Grum is the final member." He nods in the direction of the barkeep and looks to be about to continue when he get caught in a fit of wracking coughs. Having had a chance to get closer you see that the man is not in fact as old as first appearances suggested but instead appears terribly sick; his dark hair has obvious clumps missing and despite his scarred flesh giving the impression of a seasoned warrior he is skeletally thin.

As his coughing dies down the figure in the heavy robes turns and hisses at the thin-man. "Quit wasting your breath Brom! Let Grum speak - you know how he likes the sound of his own voice. No reason you should kill yourself swapping the chant with any basher comes looking for advise." The figure adjusts the cowl of it's hood revealing a old women beneath - though the leathery red skin and small horns sprouting from her head clearly show her lineage. She looks over the party with small yellow eyes before leaning back in her chair. You get the distinct impression she is not impressed by what she sees.

Brom seems to be about to respond when Bald Grum pulls up one of the vacant chairs and lowers his bulk into it. "Now now Xero. No Need to be spitting in these bashers faces. There here to help out the district after all - we owe them some courtesy for that if nothing else." The dark-skinned man smiles broadly again towards the party and waves his arm at those still standing. "Come and be seated friends. We're waiting on one more but that's no reason to get tired standing to attention." As if waiting for his words one of the servers - a pale young human women - brings over a small tray containing mugs of ale and lays them down on the table.

Garemello nods, noting Xero's lack of approval, something he had to go through once before when the Doomguard first met him and reguarded him as some primer berk off of the streets. While still rather low in the ranks of the faction, being selected for this assignment meant something, even if it was to insure the world's slow death around him.

"I suppose this place isn't bad to run your business out of," he barred his teeth in a manner that passed for a reptilian smile. He took his seat careful to leave room for his tail to roll off to the side. "But what is going on in the Grey Quarter?"

Ram enters the Traven. This time, he thinks he has the right spot. He gets lost in Sigil a lot.

Bald Grum coughs to clear his throat and pauses for a moment to think over his words before responding to Garemello - you get the impression he's been rehearing this in his head. Slapping a thick hand to his chest he begins. "Let us formalize this then. I am known as Bald Grum and these two are Silent Brom and Mother Xero. We are collectively known as the 'Voices of Wailer's Square' - were not factols or jackals or golden lords, but we speak for the people here, and the people need you. This used to be a quiet district - quiet as the grave in fact! But trouble seems to have taken to walking our streets of late; Chaosmen, thugs and worst. We would like this place to be quiet again - that'll be your job. Now we don't want Harmonium or Mercy Killers running things here; we want to sort our own affairs out our own way and we're prepared to pay for that privilege. Keep the peace for us, keep things safe and friendly. We're not looking to see berks murdered in the street, just kicked out or made to behave-"

"Serve 'em right if they did get scribed..." Xero mutters darkly to herself.

Grum frowns at her for a moment, then continues; "For this service we offer you room and board, and jink depending on exactly what kind of trouble you have to handle. And should the worst happen, we promise to give you a good and worthy funeral. So, do we have a deal?" The big man smiles broadly again and holds out a hand towards you.

A moment of silence passed, then Hexion replied in her soft, husky voice, "The Cabal is always happy to be of help."

Sparrow leans back on Ripper and idly scratches Fang and Claw behind their ears while Talon balances on the back of an empty chair nearby and keep watch. He sits, listening to The Voice's words and weights the need for conflict over the beauty of a society that has already found its stride. A small song forms in his heads and he quietly hums along.

~SE++

"Can't promise my talents are best put to use for diplomacy, but I can plant a little fear in the hearts of these chaotic fools," Garemello said trying to maintain control of his bloodlust. This form seemed to desire it more than his native, and lost, form.

"As a representative of the Doomguard, I offer my help," he said, secretly hoping what he said didn't sound terribly rehersed.

"Don't worry," Seija says, "It doesn't seem like anything we can't handle. Do you know anywhere to start looking for these trouble-causers?".

Bald Grum looks over the group with a mixed expression for a moment before breaking into a smile again and laughing. "Forgive me. I just didn't expect people to be so willing to help without wanting to know the dark of it before hand. Kinda forget what that feels like. As for the troubles in this district you'd be hard pressed not finding them - they say these things happen in threes but whoever is troubling us can't seem to count.".

He pauses and sighs before continuing, counting the issues off on his fingers as he goes. "We've had a band of barmies move into the district recently capering around dressed as Dustmen of all things. Mostly they've been disturbing the peace and vandalizing places but madness seems to follow in their wake and no matter what we do we can't seem to catch them. Hmm. We've had a string of assaults down in Rattling Alley - most of the residents are too scared to come out after dark now even though the Dustmen set up musties down there with lanterns. We've had a recent increase in the number of thieves and gangs in the district too. Always had trouble with them in the past but something seems to have gotten them riled up fierce as of late."

He pauses again as his expression becomes much darker. Looking beyond the adventurers to the tavern patrons beyond he leans in and begins again much quieter - barely a whisper in fact. "There is one more thing - keep this to yourselves mind. We've been trying to keep this from getting out what with all the other troubles of late. There's a gang south of here in the Pyres calling themselves the Proud Pariahs - bunch a' tieflings and demons, fiends the lot of them. They've been moving closer an closer to the district recently trying to take advantage of the chaos to move in. We're hoping your being here will be enough of a show of strength that they get second thoughts about that."

With a sudden jolt Grum is sits back up and his smile returns. "That's about it then. I'd be happy to answer any other questions you've got about the deal though it might be worth talking to the locals. Pretty much half the district turned up tonight to get a look at you lot - I'm sure they'd be more then willing to chin-wag with you. If nothing else it will good to let them get used to you being here. Oh and when you want to turn in the night give us a shout. I'll get you set up."

Ram chooses to say nothing, but watches Bald carefully. A peaceful job that pays well? Could be too good to be true.

Sense motive to check if Bald is hiding something.

Sparrow mulls over the words a bit, and then says, "If you've outsourcing, then you clearly need the help. But, it seems we're each mercenaries brought here for a job, so room and board won't exactly be full payment. Personally, I'd be expecting the standard pay of a trained mercenary." He opens Claw's side pouch and pinches off five small chunks of dried meat and tosses one to each of his companions and chews on the last one himself.

~SE++

"I don't turn down work once offered. That and I don't think the Factorum who pointed me in this direction would do so if this was something of no interest," Garemello said arms folded accross his chest. "Who are these Proud Pariahs beyond some Tiefling and other abyssal creatures?"

Mother Xero scowls at Garemello as he asks his question. "Who are they? Are fiends and killers not enough for you? There filth and should be wiped off the streets!" More than a few of the bars patrons turn around to see what all the commotion is while Silent Brom slowly raises a hand and places it gently on her shoulder while shaking his head slightly. Xero snorts and leans back in her chair, arms crossed over her chest, her tirade finished but her mood clearly still foul.

Bald Grum looks over the two nervously before turning back to the lizardman. "Sorry about that. Truth is we don't know a lot about them. They were founded during the Six Day Fire, or found there strength during that chaos, after which they became a thorn in the side of anyone trying to make an honest living in the Hive - few as that may be. Mostly they just stick to posturing and threats but with a group like that violence is never far away. Far as we can tell they can't be reasoned with - doesn't seem they want anything other than to be feared and revered."



Turning to Sparrow he spends a moment fishing a small red-and-blue pin depicting a woman's face surrounded by vines from his jacket and affixes it to his breast. When his speaks again his tone is more business-like and much less friendly. "The Voices of Wailer's Square will ensure that you are reimbursed for your efforts to a sum of coin to be determined first by the effort you are deemed to put into your operations and second by the troubles you encounter and the manner with which you deal with them. The people of Wailer's Square are not a rich people but we are fair to those who work with us - do well by the people and you will be rewarded accordingly."

"And the barmies? Do you know anything else about them?"

Hexion gingerly accepted the piece of meat from Sparrow, but made notion to eat it.
As she did so, Hexion searched her memories for studies pertaining to he matter at hand.

Knowledge(Planes)

"Mother Xero, I have no intention of being merciful to them if I am ever fortunate enough to cross paths with them. I was hoping you had something that would help with the hunt,"

Bald Grum rubs a chin as he attempts to recall all he has heard about the barmies before responding to Seija - the tone he wore when speaking to Sparrow a few moments earlier is also completely absent. "Not sure if there's much to be telling. Bunch of addle-coves - three or four of them from what I hear - appeared a few weeks back and begun starting trouble in the district. Like I said before they're all decked out like Dustmen - big grey robes, incense burners, that sort of thing. First it looked like they were just trying to be a nuisance by harassing people going about there business by pulling pranks and gallivanting about. Most berks think there Xhaosmen; not the first time we've have trouble with them trying to start things but most get bored and leave soon enough. Hard to get a rise out of a dustie. But they ones stuck around and have been upping their game. The've been vandalizing monuments, throwing paint up the walls, following people around while mocking them. An' wherever they go people seem to be put right on edge - even folks like the dusties who are normally entirely passive have started shouting to the spire at them. Some even joined in in the revelry. That's all there is too it. You stick around for a few days your bound to run into them. They seem to turn up at least once a day to cause mischief."

Mother Xero looks set to explode at Garemello before Silent Brom calms her down and, between occasional coughs, talks to the lizardman. "All I can tell you in the Pariah's are strongest south of here in the Pyres - it is their holding and the seat of their power. If you want to face them find someone who knows that district. Truthfully you'd be best putting them to the back of your mind for now. They've made no direct threat against the district, just a bunch of posturing. We believe that you're merely being here will give them pause enough. We can deal with the fiends when we need too."