Planescape: Curiosity and the Cat

by DM2

The adventures of an agnostic sleuth during one evening in Sigil. Rated M for violence, language, and sex related dialogue.

David Mitchell

Curiosity and the Cat

Note: This story is set in TSR's Planescape setting, though the characters and incidents that take place here are my own creations, based on a session I ran recently on a message board role-playing game.

It is said that curiosity killed the cat. Who would have known that curiosity, the most

basic cornerstone of the human intellect would also be its most dangerous, or that beyond

our understanding existed a vast stretch of worlds only reachable through powerful spells

and magical gateways? That these planes are infinite, and that their collective existence is

in some places referred to as the 'multiverse' instead of the universe? Or that in the center

of these realms lies a city built on the inside of a giant ring at the top of an infinitely tall

spire where gateways to every plane in existence are to be found? That you don't have to

wait until you die to travel to the realm of your particular afterlife? Or- and this is the

most amazing part-that these realms are formed, or at least effected by the beliefs held

by the inhabitants of the world as we know it-the prime material plane?

Beliefs have the power to change reality, and nowhere is this more realized than the City

of Doors. Curiosity killed the Hellcat, it is said in Baator (or the Nine Hells as it is

referred to in the prime). Perhaps the Society of Sensation, one of the many philosophical

factions in the city, has a more appropriate adage: Curiosity killed the Hellcat, but not the

Sensate! For all knowledge is accessible in some way or another in Sigil, the city of

doors, and perceptions are to be forever challenged on planes is one facet of truth the

planars face each day. Woe to those who arrive without prior knowledge of the planes,

the 'clueless primes' as they are called.

Yoss Martens had a curious dream. He was nearing the top of and endless flight of

stairs, having been guided by a warm and tender light. The door was open, and he

proceeded to enter. As he neared the threshold, however, the door slammed shut with

harsh cruelly, snuffing out the light and replacing it with bitter cold darkness. Before

Yoss could do anything else, he found himself tumbling into a blackened void.

Before long, he found stable footing, but looked up only to find himself in a gray-black

lifeless corridor. Frantically, he run up the passage as it bent and turned. Eventually he

came across a side passage which split to the left. Taking it, he found that it only lead to

an identical corridor, which went on for the same length until it came to a four-way

intersection. He took the right corridor this time but found that it is no different from the

others and lead back to the same area. The corridors were endless.



As he ran through the maze, he heard a voice:

The obvious point is you're insane. Control your life through insanity.

Then he awoke. Yoss reclined on the battered cot of his crappy one-room low-rent

apartment, where he walls were chipped blackened marble, the drapes were dusty velvet,

and even the brass-plated table was dingy and tarnished. It was the Marble District of the

Hive, quite possibly the best place in the absolute worst ward in all of Sigil.

His notes were scattered around him and his violin case lied at the foot of the bed. He

must have dozed off in mid-day. His socks didn't match either, but that was nothing new.

Yoss attended the mirror, for his personal hygiene was nothing short of fastidious, though

his clothing usually appeared wrinkled and mismatched.

Yoss was a thin man of average height, his skin was very light in complexion, and his

hair was red with several shocks of pure white. His ears were also slender and pointed,

thus betraying his mixed lineage of both human and elven origins. Being a bastard born

with not only interracial mixed heritage, but noble and lower class as well, Yoss was left

a great deal of time with which to ponder and develop his own intellect and insatiable

curiosity.

Unfortunately, this landed him in trouble with what were considered the most powerful

beings in the multiverse: the gods themselves. Yoss had always considered himself an

atheist, but he was intrigued with the apparent powers displayed by priests.

There can be no doubt that the beings known as gods and the powers they grant to their

followers on the various prime worlds are real, but one troubling fact remained. Just as

the planes themselves were the realms personified by human beliefs-weather in law,

chaos, good or evil, the gods themselves also seem to gain more power with the more

worshippers they have, and sometimes die when no one worships them. And sometimes,

of course, gods kill each other as well. Some planars even question the ultimate divnity of

such beings, though the fact remains that the power of the gods, divine or not, is

unequalled in the multiverse.

Yoss, having already attained a background in learning the thaumaturgical arts, began

to devise experiments duplicating the effects of divine or clerical magic, and for no

apparent reason other than his own curiosity. That he was a true oxymoron- an atheist

cleric who could duplicate the granted powers through introspection and focus rather than

prayer-Yoss had committed the ultimate blasphemy.

And hence he fled through a portal and arrived in Sigil. He had heard it was a neutral

haven as far as the influence of the gods was concerned, and that was quite correct. No

gods enter the city, though their worshippers and servants can and do, and this rule is

enforced by the enigmatic ruler figure of the city-a mysterious floating being known

only as the Lady of Pain. But that, dear reader, is another matter entirely.

Only seconds after glancing into the mirror did Yoss hear a knock at the door. He

looked around in a bit of a haze, and then did his best to gather himself, bellowing in the

general direction of the door:

"Did you happen to take note of the condition of that door before you decided to attack

it with such ferocity? Give me a minute and I might manage to help you avoid a breaking

and entering charge!"

Yoss checked to make sure his staff was behind the door, and then opened it a crack.

"How can I help you my demonstrative friend?"

Opening the door a hair, he saw a robed man with long black hair and a hard look in his

eyes.

"Hello there." the man said with a quick smile, "My name is Rallsed. I'm an envoy for

the Athar. Are you that tinkerer that hires himself out to solve mysteries?"

The Athar were one of the many philosophical factions which vied to gain influence in

Sigil as Yoss remembered, though he had yet to become familiar with each of them. Yoss

fully opened the door.

"Pleased to make your acquaintance, Rallsed. Folks have gotten in the habit of referring

to me as Yoss and if it pleases, you can continue this rich tradition. Occasionally I have

been known to occupy my mind and refill my coffers by doing the odd bit of sleuthing

here and there. Please let me hear what you have to say and we can proceed from there."

He gestured into the apartment.

"I can offer you entrance, but I fear that taking a seat might prove more dangerous than

beneficial."

He then started digging around for food or drink to offer his guest.

"That's quite alright," Rallsed said with a smile, "I can get here and there, but I'm not a

particularly good envoy, you see. I tend to be brief and too the point. I was going to treat

you whatever pub you'd wish, but there's not too many I'd like to enter in this ward.

I'm sure you must know that Signers and the Athar have lately been getting along about

as well as baatezu and tanar'ri. You see, there's an old abandoned church along Arbor

Road in the Lower Ward--that's near the Shattered Temple--that's been causing some

commotion. The church was going to be torn down by a Harmonium agent who bought

the property, but it seems the work crew has disappeared. Apparently, there are five

standing stones dedicated to whatever forgotten god the temple was built for. I'm not sure

what power they are for what their function is, seeing as how I haven't been called back

there yet, but they seem to have some magical property.

There is also a particularly barmy subgroup in the Sign of One that wants to get into the

temple to resurrect this supposed fallen deity--right here in Sigil nonetheless--to prove

their own 'imagining' philosophy. It's bad enough the fools tried that with Aoskar, but

despite that fiasco and our recent conflict with that faction, some still want to attempt the

same here."

Rallsed rolled his eyes.

"My faction wants nothing more than to see the stones destroyed and to keep everyone

out of the church. Of course, they haven't a clue how to do that yet, and we're preparing

to examine the place soon. The only good news so far is that the Harmonium recognize

this threat and are providing some assistance.

Still, I think we haven't tumbled to the dark yet, and I suspect it will difficult if

someone doesn't poke around a little, park their ears in the right places, and find out

what's really going on. Someone outside of our faction."

Yoss nodded carefully.

"Given the amount of free time I seem to have come by lately, I think that I might be

able to do some judicious nosing around. I am assuming that you would like things to

remain quite hush hush and all...should a curious individual come by some interesting

information, how might he pass it on and how much might he expect to be compensated

for it?"

"Hmm..." Rallsed said, "I'm not sure what to tell you. Most common sods can be made

to speak with a little garnish; say 10 gold or so. If they're bloods, you can be the price is

going to be higher.

This kind of investigation requires delicate touch. In fact, my faction doesn't even know

I'm seeking you out. Basically, you're on your own--but that's why I'll be filling your

pockets with jink.

Still, it seems you won't be the only one searching for these darks. From what I heard,

the Fraternity of Order has dispatched someone to investigate. A paladin I believe.

There's also a rumor that the Transcendant Order, who have no interest in keeping

anything about themselves dark, has sent someone as well...a wind duke. These are the

only obvious investigators. Other factions probably have an interest in this as well.

We have one important lead, however. A basher named Hulester used to be a high-up

member of the Athar. Turns out he's really an Anarchist. He was recently found out, and

the whole thing's pretty public, so the poor sod's days of infiltration might be over for

good. His own faction probably won't touch him with a 10-foot pole (unless it's got a

sharpened point at the end) at least until this dies down. Hulester might know more about

what's going on, and he has no loyalty to any faction he might have posed under in the

past.

If you agree, I can offer you down payment now, plus more if you can get any

information back to me within a week."

Yoss smiled.

"Frightfully 'fraid I did a poor job of laying that out." He said, "Whilst I am always as

concerned as the next bloke about the plight of the poor pikers out there, it was the lining

of my own pockets that had my immediate concern..."

He nodded his head again, contemplating.

"Well, I can honestly say that you have aroused my interest...very well, I accept your

terms, providing the profit is as generous as you promise. Now let me ask you a few

questions...First, given the sensitive nature of this investigation, shall I pass any

information directly on to you and if so where might I find you? Second, where might I

casually come into contact with this Hulester basher?"

This time he stared intently at Rallsed. Yoss was willing to help, but he was no fool,

and his years of experience had given him the ability to read others fairly well.

"And finally, are you holding anything back that will probably end me in some nasty

sort of rub? Sorry, have to ask, you have no idea how often this sort of thing seems to

turn on a humble investigator..."

Rallsed only smiled

"Excellent. You might find me either at the Shattered Temple or the church itself,

depending on where I'm needed, but if you try to talk to me then I won't know you.

Though my faction will be grateful tome in the end, I can't risk anything at the moment.

Most likely I'll know where you are during that time, though. I'll meet you in a week at

the Fat Candle--that's a tavern in the Market Ward--far away from this whole mess.

Hulester shouldn't be too hard to find. Any number of bashers might even be able to

give a verbal description of him--which is the main reason he's out of work. Last I heard

he frequents some of the taverns on Ironmonger street--close to the church itself--and

there are only a few."

Rallsed chuckled a bit too.

"And I have no intention of turning on you. I only like to be well- informed."

"Good enough, good enough..." Yoss replied, "It seems that we have an agreement.

Now, before I get started, is there any amount of up-front funding that you can provide?

Limbering lips and greasing palms can run up a healthy tab rather quickly."

"Of course." Rallsed said.

He reached into his robes and pulled out a small velvet bag to hand to Yoss. He could

feel the weight of the coins within.

"Hmph." he said, "I can't believe they've convinced Factol Terrance to focus this

investigation on the church. I'm betting it's coming from the Signers themselves.

Unfortunately, my faction's not only trying to keep everyone out of the church, but

everyone around the area silent. Don't believe all the chant you hear either.

Well...I'll have to be leaving soon, but thanks for taking this up."

He studied Yoss for a second.

"I don't know much about you, but from what I heard I figured you'd be sympathetic to

the cause."

Yoss' smile faded.

"That may be at least partially correct...and I apologize because this is probably a rather

poor way for me to respond to your statement. I fear that at present, whatever that is."

He frowned, considering. The Athar were one of the least popular factions in Sigil, and

indeed anywhere, since they were a faction founded on the belief that the gods

themselves were not divine, and religion, consequently, the biggest hoax of the planes.

Still, being free of divine influence, Sigil was one of the few places they could question

safely, and some have even said that is a powerful testament against their philosophy.

".it is rather difficult for me to be certain about much of anything. I can say that I

currently harbor a disbelief of divinity that probably coincides with many of the views

held by your faction, at least as far as I understand it. If only I did not also have a bit of

disbelief of disbelief... I am still rather new here and should probably learn more,

however, before I rush to any judgments. I have so much to learn...including learning

how to learn...and how to trust what I learn...or understand what I learn...or figure out

what learning is...or if I can..."

Yoss stopped himself with visible effort.

"Well, enough of that, I fear that I am detaining you with my own concerns and

ramblings. I think that you have been honest with me and I will do my all to learn what I

can and report it back to you. Thank you for your business and I shall look forward to our

meeting at the Fat Candle in one week's time..."

Rallsed nodded thoughtfully, but he did not quite head for the door.

"Yes..." he said, "If you're searching for darks you'll find a more than enough to chew

on in Sigil. If you don't mind my asking, do you think your disillusionment has brought

you strength or insecurity?"

"I." Yoss hesitated, ".wish that I could say that disillusionment and doubt solely

bring me strength and open-mindedness...but constantly questioning everything,

particularly my own actions, and never knowing...takes a heavy toll...so for the moment I

guess I have to call it a wash."

He smiled weakly at Rallsed, who only nodded.

"Well...just be careful what you end up believing in. On the planes your belief is a

powerful tool. Good luck, then. I'd love to stay and chat, but I'm running late already."

With those words, the Athar envoy departed as Yoss closed the door as he left and

began muttering to himself.

"Great, maybe now I need to not believe in anything...or maybe that is a belief system

itself...ah bugger it all..."

After a moment of consideration, Yoss counted up the coins he received, which

numbered at around 200, then cleaned himself up, gathered his equipment and dresses,

and set off in the general direction of Ironmonger street, locking up as he left.

Before long Yoss exited the apartment complex and headed out into the neighborhood.

It was nearing dark already, and looking above into the night sky, he could see countless

small lights, not to be mistaken for stars, which marked the other side of city.

Sigil was a giant ring twenty miles in circumference, where any direction you traveled

was 'uphill' and gravity was relative to wherever you stood. Looking up at the other side

of the city usually induced nausea. There was no sun, though the thick greasy sky

brightened and darkened according to a predictable schedule the way the sun would in the

prime. It frequently rained as well, and the water was usually brown and cruddy. It was a

gray and grimy place where most buildings were covered in dangerous razorvine and the

cynical inhabitants were quick to take advantage of the clueless.

Sigil was divided into 6 different wards, each of varying size. The Hive was worst place

imaginable, the wretched slums that were often home to gangs and vicious fiends from

the lower planes. The Lower Ward-named such because it had several portals leading to

these areas-was scarcely a more enjoyable place to visit, though it bordered the Hive

and that was where Yoss was heading.

Bedlam run beckoned out of the vicinity and snaked by the imposing Gatehouse of the

Bleak Cabal, which served as an asylum, orphanage, and infirmary. Yoss knew little

about this faction as well, except for their belief in the lack of meaning in life and the

multiverse. He could hear some of the usual commotion from the long line of waiting

people (though they are too far away to hear anything specific) and many are growing

restless with the waiting.

A few blocks beyond the Gatehouse lied the Ragpicker's Square and the Mortuary

itself, which bordered the Lower Ward closer. This Mortuary was manned by the

Dustmen, who, not unlike the Jehovah's Witnesses of a certain prime world, believed that

life was cruel and death was purity. Hence, they would achieve 'true death' by purging

themselves of all passions and desires. However, they had the dubious honor of taking

care of the city's dead. Ironmonger street was still a mile or two away. It was likely Yoss

would be out all night.

The streets grow more somber, shadowy, and lifeless as he passed Backshade Lane and

Ragpicker's Square, for he knew that at night, the Dustmen kept their undead patrolling

the periphery of the Mortuary. It was a low and menacing dome with clusters of

windowless vaults surrounding it. The streets narrowed a bit and winded through the

wretched tenements, occasionally passing a tavern or two, such as Benni's Tap or The

Snapped Finger (the latter is known for it's nightly fights, for which there is no extant

furniture and everyone stands). A few bubbers stumbled past Yoss on the streets, but for

the most part he was ignored.

Of course, the most dangerous predators in this ecological struggle lurk at night, so it

should not be surprising that Yoss, wandering in the worst place in Sigil at the worst

time, had one such encounter.

It happened when he was nearing the reeking ditch of sewage that separated the Hive

from the Lower Ward, over which a reasonable-looking bridge closed the gap. As he

approached the bridge, Yoss examined the ditch with a shudder to disguise the fact that

he was carefully scanning the area for anything out of the ordinary before he crossed and

continues on his way.

The ditch was horrid and festering, but he saw nothing. He heard some quick running

and vaulting coming from beneath and around the bridge, however, and when he looked

up he saw two thick-necked men armed with short swords and clubs climbing to the top.

They approached slowly, one tossing a dagger to himself.

"Nice night for a walk, isn't it berk?" he said.

Yoss measured the distance between himself and the two men.

"Well, that has yet to be determined..." he said, "How can I help you fellows?"

"No one crosses this bridge after antipeak without payin' the music, berk." the thug

said.

He approached steadily, and Yoss could see the accumulated layers of grime on his skin

(sometimes it couldn't be differentiated from his tattoos and stubble) as well as the fact

that he was missing a few teeth.

Yoss frowned.

"I would advise that you halt right there. I am a healer here on a mission of mercy and

have little of value on my person, as you can see. I have no desire to harm either one of

you but I assure you that I am an able mage and will protect myself if you force me to do

so. I will also feel little obligation to heal wounds that I personally inflict...I wonder how

flammable that layer of muck covering your person is?"

Yoss grinned nastily, and then readied himself, raising his oaken staff into the air. If the

thugs continue to advance, he would cast an illusion like that of a mirror with multiple

reflections on himself and follow it with a flame sheet from his fingertips when both were

in range of the spell. If space and time would allow, he would loose a basic magic missile

at the closest thug . Of course, he intended to break off if, at any time, they would retreat.

They didn't draw back, unfortunately.

"You'll soon sleep with the dead, you peevish nuthook!" one shouted.

Then he heard something behind him. Turning slightly so as to not leave himself

undefended, Yoss had spotted a third thug behind him. This one was different from the

others, and suitably demonic in appearance. He was a muscular creature with a blueish-

gray complexion. He is hairless and has a pair of forward curling bull's horns on either

side of his large head. He was what planars referred to as a tiefling, a being with more

than a trace of demon blood running through his veins. No two ever looked alike, but

they both fascinated and repulsed humans nonetheless.

Yoss blinked. He completed the spell before they advanced any further, and thoroughly

confused the thugs, for now they saw not one Yoss in front of them, but six!

The first thug swung his cudgel about madly and smacked one of the mirror images,

causing it to vanish but nothing more. His companion hurled a dagger which proved

similarly fruitless.

The tiefling drew a katar in his off-hand and a short sword in his right. He lashed at the

images, but to no avail. In fact the more they swung, the less they ended up hitting. Once

they were confused, Yoss put his thumbs together and exposed them to a huge sheet of

bright red flame, which both startled and burned his assailants, though having been

scorched, they still did not retreat.

Still having the Magic Missile in reserve, Yoss fired five more colorful bursts of energy

from his extended fingertips which dropped the dagger-hurler instantly. Finally, the

tiefling backed away, though the fouler and enraged thug continued to futilely attack.

Each tired swing was matched only by his equally tired and bloodshot eyes.

Yoss addressed the tiefling.

"If you value the life of this daft berk, you will help me disable him...otherwise I would

suggest that you run. I am being as gentle as I can and I may have accidentally killed that

poor bugger over there."

As he said this the thug attacked again, but he was only met by a whack to the face

from Yoss' staff.

The tiefling hesitated but nodded. He then rushed toward his companion and grappled

him, grabbing his right arm. Before long the two men were in a stalemate, though the

matter was soon decided as Yoss ended it quickly by tripping the thug with his staff while

the tiefling continued to pin him to the ground.

"I am sorry that it came to this," he said, "I merely wanted to prove a point that giving

in would not have. Although I do possess a great deal of power, there are quite a few that

have a great deal more. If you continue this course of action, you can see the eventual

result."

He pointed to the slain thief.

"I think that you are doing this because you need to do so to survive...you have at least

displayed some concern for each other's welfare and I hope that you can extend it to

strangers as well. I am quite financially poor myself, but I would have given you what I

could spare to help you survive if you had but asked without threatening harm. Not

everyone intends to do you harm or wishes you ill..."

Yoss looked over at the fallen thug for a second, but he was already charred beyond

recognition from the effects of the spell.

"I am leaving now and later I shall report this place to the authorities as a spot where

ambushes regularly take place, but I will not describe my attackers. Remain here at your

own risk, and please use this to help you survive in the mean time."

Yoss then knelt to place a small amount of money near the fallen thug.

"I wish I could offer better advice on how to survive, I am just learning how to do so

myself...and I still have much to learn about peaceful solutions to problems myself...I

apologize for any harm that I have caused you and wish you luck in finding a way to

survive without harming others. Please use this opportunity to that end, in the future

should we meet under similar circumstances I will not be this compassionate."

He then turned and continued on his way, warily looking back to ensure he was not be

pursued. The tiefling continued to stare as he subdued his grumbling companion and

helped him to his feet. He nodded to Yoss and removed a ring from his right hand. He

tossed it in his direction and the two departed without a word.

Yoss picked up the ring and tucks it away for later. He looked sadly at the charred

corpse for a moment and continued on his trip to Ironmonger street, cursing himself as he

walked.

"Nooooo...gotta be arrogant and figure you can talk them down...nearly get yourself

killed along with that poor berk...'course you might have saved some other travelers, but

that doesn't really improve that poor dead bastard's plight any...that reminds me, I really

need to figure out some of those clerical spells for restraining movement..."

The streets bordering Ragpicker's Square continued to unsnake and broaden as he

reached the outskirts of the Lower Ward. These streets were also very quiet, almost

empty.

As he passed, he began to feel drops of rain. The entire surrounding neighborhood in a

blocks-wide area looked more or less razed. Fields of untamed razorvine grew in fields

that used to be building perimeters, obscuring the boundary between the Hive and the

Lower Ward. Yoss spied a few poor wandering around here and gathering up loose

stones and beams from the surrounding falling-down buildings. Walking down Astral

Walk and entering Barmy Street, he came by the Shattered Temple, headquarters of the

Athar.

It was a tilted skeleton of a building, looming above the lesser ruins, and though the

Athar had shored up the remains of this crumbling sanctuary, they probably liked the

ravaged mood of the place--for it sat on the edge, near a few other abandoned buildings,

about where the cobblestones in the street begin to improve. Many tightly clustered

houses, shops and inns lied beyond, inviting with their light and warmth. The Athar didn't

recieve many visitors, but they are still receptive to guests. Several fierce but cautious-

looking guards stood around the outside of the temple.

Downward form the Spire (i.e. "south") was Ironmonger Street. Yoss headed down the

desolate boulevard, thinking of nothing but a pub to relax in. The nearest bar would have

been the Soused Duck, but that was a faction bar next to the Shattered Temple itself.

He passed a few run-down businesses and homes while traveling a few streets that lead

downward of the Shattered Temple, though there aren't many taverns. One abandoned

street harbored a narrow puddle-filled alleyway that was made of a crumbling cistern and

another unidentifiable building. After this one, however, he found himself at Anvil

Square, where convenient signs showed that it branched off into many streets, like Pink

Pearl Way, Dis Road, Arbor Road, and Ironmonger Street. Lights shone from within

some buildings though, casting a dim glow throughout the gloomy nighttime sky.

The relatively quiet street stretched on for a while until he spotted another noticeable

pub. It was a three story building that looks a little less unpleasant than the other

surrounding it. It's name was an appropriate one too: The Ubiquitous Wayfarer.

Smiling wryly, Yoss entered the place an eyeballed the interior. The tavern had a

friendlier atmosphere than any he'd seen in the Hive. It was full to capacity that night,

and something about the look of the place told him that it was full every night. The smell

of smoke, drink, and middle-class planars was thick in the air, as was the din from the

talking and the two mediocre musicians who played pipes in the corner. A large statue

that several folks seemed to be studying very carefully stood in the center of the taproom.

Interested in the statue, Yoss carefully made his way to the center of the room. Up close

he could see it resembled a barmy old wizard with a long beard and a pointed hat. When

he got closer, the statue spoke:

"My eyes are old and I can't eyeball a measurement to save my life. I've a mug that

holds five fingers of bub, and another that holds three. I'm thirsty enough for four fingers

of that fine stuff, but any more than that lays me out flat. What am I to do, for my bone-

box is ever so dry..."

"Heh." said a bulky man with a bushy black beard, "That magical statue tells a new

riddle every week. Trouble is, I can't figure this one out for all the jink in Sigil."

"That sure is a nasty one..." Yoss said innocently, "What does the lucky sod

who solves the riddle earn? Is there some sort of a prize? Are there any bets riding on it?"

"Hmm...none that I know of," the man said, "except solviln' the puzzle that's teased

your brain-box. Let me see...would you be starting with the mug that holds five or the one

that holds three? And which one would you be pourin' into which? Perhaps a 10 year old

can enlighten me."

"Well," Yoss said, "This ten year old is of the opinion that you could start with either

and still solve the riddle...if you are interesed how I would be more than happy to offer a

couple of my theories, but I do not wish to ruin your entertainment..."

"Hmmm? Oh please tell. I'm afraid I'll loose sleep over this one."

"This is just my thinking of it, might be right, might be wrong...you could start by

filling the mug that holds five and use it to fill the mug that holds three, leaving two in

the five mug. Then empty the three mug and pour the two from the five mug into it,

leaving two in the three mug. Then, refill the five mug. Use the five mug to fill the last of

the three mug, leaving four in the five mug and three in the three mug...or, you could start

by filling the three mug and pouring it into the five mug, leaving three in the five mug

and the three mug empty. Then you fill the three mug again and fill the five mug with

two thirds of its contents, leaving the five mug filled and the three mug with one in it.

Now empty the five mug and pour the one from the three mug into it. Now refill the three

mug and pour its contents into the five mug, leaving four in it."

The man chuckled knowingly as he spoke.

"Amazing...I can't believe I couldn't figure that out. Phol Nerris." he said, extending his

hand, "What can I do for you?"

Yoss shook his hand.

"Yoss Martens, pleased to make your acquaintance. I fear that I am a bit new here, both

to Sigil and this part of town, and I wonder if you could help learn me a bit of the

territory and its folk..."

Phol nodded.

"Ya, I could do that. Anything specific you'd like to know?"

"Well, for starters, I had a bit of a nasty scrape with a right unsociable bugger just a

while ago and I don't rightly know what set him off...I used to be a bit of a scholar back

home and I was discussing religion with this bloke what I had just met. I was debating a

theory about the origins of gods, when all of a sudden the sod gets angry, screams 'Filthy

Athar, take this for Hulester' or something like that, and tries to perforate me with a bit of

steel. Poor fellow wasn't in any position to explain himself afterword, I fear...I have no

idea what set him off - is there anything you could tell me about 'Athar' or 'Hulester'? I

really don't know what I did and I would like to avoid getting to any unnecessary scrapes

or making enemies before I even get settled in."

"The Athar, huh?" said Phol, "They're a faction that dwells near this place. They say the

powers that everyone turns to for guidance are nothin' more than frauds. So they seek to

prove it--and turn everyone else away from 'em. Bitter bloods they are. They usually

aren't fun to be around, but their strong and knowledgeble cutters.

Me, I'm an Indep. I got no qualm with organized religion so long as it don't interfere

with an individual's right to think for himself. That's the surest gift the multiverse can

give you, cutter. Free-thought. The way I see it, none of these factions know the dark of

it.

The Signers and Athar aren't on good terms either, you know. I thought I o'erheard

some small group o' Signers planin' to slip past the Athar's blockade at that old church

that's causin' so much trouble. And as for this Hulester sod...he's around. He comes in

here often. Could be in here now, for all I know. I haven't checked."

Yoss nodded, doing his best to act amazed.

"So much to learn, so much to learn..." he said. "What is this business with an old

church and the Signers? I must admit I don't know much about their faction, but I am not

sure why they would have such interest in a church in Sigil, of all things...Also, do you

think you could describe this Hulester for me? I bear him no ill will, but I would like to

ask him a few questions about my earlier encounter. I am also a bit curious about the

group you belong to, the Indeps. What can you tell me about the group and its

philosophies?"

"Hulester you can't miss." Phol said, "He's a middle-aged, gruff lookin' basher.

Well...the Signers are a bunch o' pretentious soliphisists. They think the multiverse

revolves around them and they can shape it with their thoughts. They don't try to recruit

so much as impress, and recently they wanted to prove their philosophy by bringing a

dead power back to life by imagining it so! They chose Aoskar--the god of portals, who'd

been penned in the dead book by her serenity eons ago.

Naturally, they nearly came to blows with the Athar over this, and it was too dangerous

to pull off, but there's still some barmy Signers out there who've formed a cult dedicated

to Aoskar and they want to bring him back. Most are likely to be mazed by the Lady. I

hear if they're caught they're sentanced to death by the wyrm."

He shuddered.

"Now from what I've heard 'round here it seems that other group o' Singers is interested

in this church for some reason--they want to break past the Athar barricade in a week or

two."

His voice then lowered to a whisper.

"I know one blood in that group--an elven fellow--carries the name of Elchis."

"Hmmmm..." said Yoss, lowering his voice to match, "What could be so interesting

about that church? I must admit that I am becoming somewhat curious myself. Do you

think that this Elchis would mind if I were to ask him about it?"

Phol shrugged.

"I couldn't rightly say...nor where he'd be found. The Signers set up kip in the Clerk's

Ward at the Hall of Speakers, but that's across the bleedin' ring."

"How did you come to meet this chap?...It sounds like this Hall of Speakers is a quite

distant."

"I overheard it here, actually." Phol says, "Signers aren't unknown to this kip. They

have to be keeping watch on this area, though I don't know if they report back directly or

have some kip nearby."

"Well Phol," Yoss said, "I fear that I have taken up a good deal of your time and I am

quite grateful for all of the information. This day's events are weighing rather heavily

upon me and I really need a drink for my nerves and then I must find a place to get some

rest...Say, you wouldn't happen to know of any local inns that are safe and relatively

cheap, would you?"

"Inns?" Phol said with a smile, "You're standing in one. That's what the upper two

floors are for. This is a pretty popular kip anyways. It's said that there are more than two

dozen portals here. Probably hersay at that. Luck be with you, cutter."

Yoss found the bar not long after that. The bartender had years of hard work showing on

her face and hands, and she pulled her graying hair severly back from her face so it didn't

interfere with her work. A simple frock stained with other people's bub draped her stocky

frame.

As he approached, Yoss noticed a pair of strange women sipping their bub and

watching everyone around them like hawks searching for prey. For some reason, they

turned and focus their attention toward him when he reached the counter. They moved in

tandum and stared in tandum. They sat so close that they might as well be joined at the

hip.

They both looked like tieflings, and weird opposites too. The tielfing on the right

sported long black nails and black eyes with no pupils. Her complexion betrayed the

faintest suggestion of green, and her hair was short and white with a slight pinkish tinge.

She wore an angora vest over spiked leather armor, blood red leggings, a single

meaningless rusty greave on one leg, and mismatched shoes.

The left tiefling looked just as strange, albeit with a slightly better fashion sense. She

was much stronger looking than her companion. This one had rich pink skin and milky

white pupiless eyes. She also had long nails, but they weren't black like those of her

friend. Her hair, on the other hand was raven black and a pair of catlike pointed ears

protruded from underneath. A small ratlike tail (no more than a foot in length) curled

around from behind and rested on her thigh. She wore black-tinted leather and a pair of

matching breeches. A sword and dagger hung from scabbards on either side of her belt.

They both wore identical (well, one was upside-down) amulets with a symbol of a

toothy grimacing face with ram horns. Yoss wasn't certain what faction this represented...

"Want something?" the bartender asked impatiently.

"A glass of wine that won't bankrupt me, please." Yoss said, "Also, I am interested in

your inn's accomodations - how are they priced and what do they offer?"

Turning back, he decided to study the tieflings as they were studying him. Without a

word, the bartender poured him a glass of something that tasted a bit diluded.

"Two silver." she said afterwards, "Rooms are 2 gold each."

The tieflings turned to each other and babbled something that totally incoherent, at least

from where Yoss was sitting, and then promtly turned back toward him.

"See something--" said the right tiefling.

"--you like?" the left tiefling concluded.

Yoss handed the bartender the appropriate fare.

"I would also like to rent out one of your rooms for the night."

Then he turned to the tieflings.

"'Like' is such a subjective term with many dimensions and I always have grave

reservations about applying it. I do think that I have seen something that has piqued my

interest - which is what I interpret to be the interest of two attractive ladies who seem to

share an interesting pattern of speech...so let me ask a question in turn...what is the nature

of your interest?"

"Six, but only on Fridays." the right one said.

"Are you a spell-caster?" cooed the left in a smarmy childish voice, "We could use

a spell-caster. It'll be fun. Wanna come?"

"A little garnish can go a long way..." said the right one, "and services too..."

The right tiefling lit an incense stick and placed it in her mouth like it were a cigar.

"We ALWAYS reward the ones who help Nherid..." purred the one on the left. She

indicated her companion on the right.

"...and Valese." Nherid said, indicating the tiefling on her left.

"Nherid, Valese," Yoss said, "pleased to meet you. My name is Yoss and I do have

some knowledge of magic...what is this task that merits my assistance?"

Valese smiled a grin that nearly connected her two pointed ears. She then placed one

clawed finger over her mouth.

"SHHHH!!!!! IT'S A SECRET!" she shouted.

Then her voice became softer.

"You'll find out." she said while maintaining a smile, "Long as you can help us get

unseen and silent in case we fuck up any."

"I'd come," Nherid added, "too I've experience but cutters gutting little from. You later

find both I'll."

She winked.

"Well," Yoss said, "I do know a spell that can render a single person invisible for a

short period of time and with a scroll I could probably manage another person...but I do

worry about the nature of this task, I am not sure that I would want to help you go out and

eviscerate some poor unsuspecting sod. I will be more than happy to help you, I just

would like to make sure that we would not be unnecessarily harming someone. I fear that

I already have one death on my hands this evening."

Valese and Nherid laughed.

"No, we're not killing anyone if everything goes fine. Just nabbing someone who's late

for an appointment." Valese said.

The she leaned in about six inches from him while an amused smile trickled onto her

face.

"So.who'd you kill?"

"I was accosted by three stupid buggers while walking through town. They hemmed me

in and for some sick reason I decided to take them on...thankfully two of them knocked

off after I toasted their friend. Had I not been so arrogant, I probably could have, and

should have, slipped away from them without killing the poor sod. Unfortunately, I felt

like I had to prove a point about what they were doing...maybe they learned something,

that is all I can hope for now, but I fear the effort was lost on their friend."

Appearing distraught, Yoss took a hearty swig of his wine.

"I will help you out with your task but I ask that we try to avoid any violence - I have

little desire to add any additional victims to my tally this evening and I have used up most

of my offensive magic so I would be of little use in a skirmish anyhow. If we can do this

without harming anyone I offer you my services practically for free, all I will ask for in

return will be information."

Nherid looked at him oddly. Valese shrugged.

"The stupid fuck got what was coming to him. And now that you've left 'em alive they'll

probably bob some more berks until they get penned in the dead book themselves. You

don't have to kill anyone. Just leave that to us..."

Nherid then whispered something into Valese's ear.

"...uh, if it comes to that. We'll give you the chant and more."

"You may be right," Yoss sighed, "they might very well be out there at this moment

taking out their frustration on some weak old lady because I failed to stop them when I

had the chance...that is a possibility I have to live with."

Yoss took another big swig of his wine.

"I do, however, feel that people have the capacity to change. They may have been doing

something horrible, but they probably had a reason for it. I have to hope that if I help

people with their reasons and their reasoning, I might have some effect on their actions.

Hell, I might be wrong myself, but I still feel like I have to try..."

He then knocked down the rest of his wine and grinned sardonically.

"A right crafty one you are. By implying my responsibility and suggesting that you

might be doing something that I would disapprove of, you have pretty much forced me to

accompany you lest I be responsible for your actions in my absence. Very well, I

accept...now what are we going to do and how are we going to do it?"

Valese smiled.

"Just meeting some friends and waiting for one other to show up. But wait until we

leave this place. Valese is barmy, but not stupid."

Valese and Nherid alike continued to keep their attention focused on both Yoss and the

door.

"We are just going to wait here until some folks show up?" said Yoss, "When this

crowd arrives, should I know you or should I just be a drunk who happens to be sitting

next to you?"

Valese leaned into him and whispered into his ear, all the while keeping her eye on the

door.

"Elister'll come in here and pretend to talk to someone. Once we see him we leave and

meet him again at the Temple of the Abyss."

"OK," said Yoss, "when we leave we head to the Temple of the Abyss - should I be

with you when you meet Elister or should I be separate? I need to have you within arm's

reach to cast an invisibility spell on you..."

"Come with me..." Valese whispered, "Otherwise, they'll think you're some berk who's

in the wrong place at the wrong time."

Yoss whispered back.

"Alright, good enough...let me ask you another question then before this Elister shows

up - is it important that I know what the amulets you two are wearing represent? Some

sort of faction?"

"Oh this...?" Valese says as she stood up a little so that the face of the amulet--resting

firmly in her cleavage--was at eye level. Nherid whacked him lightly in the head with

hers.

"It means I was a Dustman yesterday, an Anarchist today, a Taker tomorrow, a Guvner

the day after, a Bleaker Tuesdays, a Sensate Thrusdays, an Indep in the morning, a Signer

in the afternooon..."

Valese grinned wickedly.

"...and a Godsman at night."

Yoss grinned as well.

"That sounds dangerously close to a plan of activities that you two arrived at in concert

for a couple who I assume to be somewhat chaotic. Of course, if you normally act

chaotic, then perhaps planning itself is a chaotic act placed in context of others who are

behaving randomly...'course it could have happened by accident, pure coincidence and

all...or maybe..."

Valese stuck her tongue out as he spoke, and its movements gradually became less

animalisitic and more lascivious......until something caught her attention at the threshold.

In stepped a short man, perhaps only 5'6", clad in unadorned and rusty plate mail. His

face was unrecogniseable behind the bevor and sallet of his helmet. He stood still at the

threshold silently, advanced toward the bar and sat near Valese without saying a word to

her.

"One Mistberry wine, please." he grunted.

As the bartender attended to his request, Valese gulped what was left in her glass, and

taking Yoss' hand, stood up from the table. Nherid stood still and winked.

"That's it for the evening. Walk me home." she said.

Something was odd about the way she said it, too. It wasn't her normal high-pitched

whine. And to be perfectly honest, I'm not sure what Valese's normal voice sounds like.

Yoss tried to match her behavior as best as possible.

"Very well, shall we be on our way?"

Elister removed the bevor of his helmet and drunk his wine, all the while looking a little

too self-conscious in not noticing Valese. Valese, on the other hand, promtly lead Yoss

out of the Ubiquitous Wayfarer and began heading toward the Lady's Ward. Yoss calmly

followed, listening closely for further instruction. Valese remained silent as she covered

more distance in the cris-crossing streets. Once again the sky was blackish- brown smog

in the night, and the various lights from the kips at the opposite end of Sigil appeared as

tiny pinpoints, much like the stars of Toril...

They were heading up Doomguard Walk, and nearing the border with the Lady's Ward.

Of course, the distance is fairly long, but Valese wasted no time and quickly and quietly

ran under the shadows of various kips. Always in front of him, yet always out of reach,

she was difficult to catch up with.

She stopped momentarily when she spied a closed weapon store with a faction symbol

painted on the cloth doors. Yoss stopped with her and examined the faction symbol as

well. Failing to understand the significance or recognize the symbol of the faction, he

shot her a quizzical glance instead.

"Whoever runs this place is a Taker." Valese said, "I'll have to keep that in mind."

"Why is it important that you know of a shopkeep who is a Taker?"

"Because if we didn't do it, the Fated did."

"At this point in time, I am not sure whether I should be more worried about us or the

purposed patsy...you really have something major in the works, don't you?"

"Hehehehehe." Valese chuckled, "Nope, I just like fucking with people. Unless that

counts."

"It could..." Yoss said, "I guess those that lend credence to the concept of magnitude

would evaluate that on a few separate continuums such as the numbers of individuals

fucked with, the methods of fucking employed and the implements used in said endeavor,

and the overall reaction to and result of the fucking...or maybe we will never know, the

momentum of one action can often transcend the existence of its originator...who knows

when the measuring needs to end...and who says that we really can measure

everything..."

Yoss stopped himself and considered for a moment.

"Well, I am not yet sure if I agree with your motivations for your actions but I think I

can begin to understand why you find this entertaining."

Valese only grinned.

"So what type of fucking do you like?"

"Hard to say..." he said, "I find pretty much any consensual interaction with an

attractive female to be physically pleasing in one way or another...Ultimately, I think I

would hope for sex with a female friend that I was attracted to, respected, and was

completely honest with. Some might say love, but that seems almost too simple, I think

of it as an interaction and combination of the extremes of physical and mental pleasure.

Something both selfish and selfless..."

He drifted into a moment of wistful contemplation and then grinned nastily.

"From there...well let us say that a wide range of magical knowledge and an equally

adventurous partner could result in some outrageous situations..."

Yoss then glanced over at Valese.

"Well, that is probably more personal disclosure than you were looking for...now 'tis

your turn - what do you like?"

Valese looked at him incredulously and laughed.

"I'd say I like... "

She paused for a moment, her pupiless eyes shining in the night like those of a rat.

"...of all the guys I've had the (*cough*) pleasure of being with, I'd say I liked the ones

who were a little more concerned about pleasing me than themselves. Not really a selfless

thing, Valese thinks...if they please a woman it's only another notch in their egos. But

still, it's the illusion they care that counts.

It's even worse when they're clueless and still lovesick. It almost makes me pity them. I

mean, c'mon, I believe two people can have a healthy sexual relationship without all

those lovey-dovey emotions. You?

It's not like I really gave a fuck about them either, but some of their attempts were

pathetic. I hate it when they squeeze my nipples like they're applying a dash of salt to

some dish or turning a pair of knobs on a machine..."

Valese chuckled.

"...or when they pull out at the last moment to spray their slimy goo on my breasts like

fucking apes. As if that's erotic. And there's others who don't know when or how to speed

up or slow down--also a problem. I don't know if it's prime trait or not, but I'm beginning

to doubt it. I've had lots of terrible sex, but not much good sex. But hey, maybe

something's better than nothing. I'm not picky."

Yoss only chuckled and gave her a warm grin.

"Never thought I would catch you off guard...novel experience, no?"

He hesitated, considering.

"I can say that I at least partially agree with you, that sex can generate a great deal of

physical pleasure without emotion, but I also wonder about a possible problem with your

logic. You state that you enjoy yourself the most when your partner is concerned with

your pleasure as well as his own, but do you not think that such concern might also come

with emotion and magnify the experience? Would emotion take ego out of the equation

or is it merely another form of ego?"

Another beat.

"Dangerous conversation...perhaps we should table it until we finish this business with

Elister - he seemed to be sweating things enough when they were running smoothly..."

Valese looked as if she was about to say something but quickly nodded and lead him

on through the rest of the Ward. Eventually, the smog cleared and the buildings he passed

looked a little cleaner. The streets were wider too, and less cluttered. In fact, he now had

a clear view of the sky, unobscured by the smog of the Lower Ward.

The building that must be the one Valese referred to as the Temple of the Abyss soared

menacingly into the sky. Chanting from within told him that a service was about to

commence. The temple's exterior was simple black stone embellished by the tarnished

silver blades with which planars enjoy decorating nearly every building.

The streets were relatively empty, and even the Harmonium, the red armored faction

which served as law enforcement in Sigil, wouldn't wish to guard this area. Valese

quickly lead Yoss down a gloomy alley and stairs which lead into an underhall, perhaps

part of the temple itself or some abandoned unfinished stretch of the catacombs. In one

shadowy corner, five conspicuous figures waited.

The tallest member was ugly and terrifying. He easily stood 6'8" and was clad in spiky,

black-tinted plate mail. His skin was similarly pitch black with a tinge of green, though it

was somewhat scaly and covered in poc marks. His features were also twisted and sharp.

His nose looked a little hooked, and his brow sports a pair of small horns.

He may have been mistaken for a particularly vile tiefling if Yoss were less more naïve,

but this fiend was a cambion, the dreaded offspring of a mortal human female and a

demon. Whereas tieflings are a quarter fiend at most in heritage, the cambion is half

demon, and all the more evil. I confess I don't know much about this cambion, dear

reader, but the less said about him, the better.

Two other figures stood nearby, though they were considerably shorter than this one

(and shorter than Yoss), though they were both cloaked and stand near the shadows, so he

couldn't see them very well. Near the center was the one Yoss recognized as Elister. He

was short and dressed in plate mail as he was at the Ubiquitous Wayfarer, though he had

removed the sallet of his helm and revealed his face. His hair was graying and thinning,

though his features looked younger than his hair might suggest.

"You made it." the huge cambion said to Valese, "It's about time too. Any longer and

we'd be hunting you down."

Valese ignored him, though Elister immediately took notice notice of Yoss.

"Wha--you've brought someone with? Who the hell is this berk?!"

"My pet wizard." Valese said.

"What cell is he transferred from? How can we trust him?"

The cambion's already slitted eyes narrowed.

"It doesn't matter." he said in a low rasp, "So long as you shut your fucking bone-box

and do what you're told I don't care. If you leave before we're done, we kill you."

"This is ridiculous." Elister said, "We can't just accept some random berk's help. I know

Zerchai didn't show, but why--"

"Because I say so!" snapped the cambion. Everyone was silent. He turned his attention

back toward Yoss.

"You don't ask questions. You don't ask our names. You don't ask anything other than

is directly related to our mission. And you don't get anything other than what Valese is

paying you, and I could give a shit less what that is. Do we have an agreement?"

Yoss nodded.

"Agreed on all accounts. I am and remain quiet, out of your way, and don't know shit."

The cambion smiled broadly.

"I like you already."

Then he turned to his cohorts.

"Salogel, Anraat. You move out first. We're giving you a head start."

The two figures did not nod or speak but already began to move, and the were quite

graceful in their motions. When they did step into the light, Yoss caught a sneaky

glimpse at their faces under their hoods. Both appeared to be elves, more lithe and

slender than humans, with elegant and finely chisled features. They were out of sight

quickly, but the cambion still waited and watched carefully.

Elister donned the top of his helmet again, and Valese took the time to fish out a small

bag filled with a black gummy substance which she carefully rubbed all over the blade of

her sword. Yoss glanced around uncomfortably and readied himself as best he could,

pulling the hood of his cloak over his head to hide his facial features, stooping and

leaning on his staff to alter the appearance of his height and age, loosening up his sling

and making some bullets readily accessible. The cambion peered out from around a

corner.

"Here they come." he said.

Salogel swiftly arrived from down the street, his cloak still donned.

"Lord Osterhage is at the center," the elf said, "and he has four others with him. I don't

think it would be ideal place to strike. Anraat and I could create a diversion elsewhere,

unless you have any better ideas."

Confused, Yoss shot Valese a questioning glance, but remained silent. What sort of

group was this? He had long heard rumors about the Revolutionary League or Anarchists,

the anti-faction faction, who were the constant bane of civilized order in Sigil, especially

to lawful factions. But were they Anarchists? The cambion turned toward him.

"Alright wizard, what spells can you cast?"

Helpless, Yoss looked momentarily at Valese as if to seek approval to speak, but

attempted to give her a look asking 'how much should I say?'

"I have a couple of spells that I can use to harm living creatures with acid or magic, I

can cause objects to levitate, I can create very detailed illusions through continued

concentration, I can make myself difficult to detect in the midst of a melee, I can heal

wounds and slow the effects of poison, I can attempt to gain hints about future events, I

can attempt to dispel magical affects, I can enhance how others see me, I can try to speak

with the dead, I can create a scrying device with a pool of water, and I..."

He paused for a moment, hoping Valese would interrupt.

"...can render an individual invisible for a short period of time. I can offer advice if you

seek it, but otherwise await your command."

"Invisibility." the cambion said, "On yourself or for a group?"

"On a single individual, and only for a short period of time."

The cambion grumbled.

"Only one of us, huh? I guess that leaves no question as to whom it should be."

He indicated Valese.

"Now as for these illusions...can you make it seem as if the dragon itself is set loose

from the tower? That would drive them away soon enough..."

"I could craft such an illusion," Yoss said, "but what sorts of dragons are common here

in Sigil? The more believable the illusion is, the more of an effect it will probably

have..."

"There's only one dragon in Sigil," the cambion said, "and that's the Mercykiller's

mascot. It's called the wyrm. It's a huge beast with a pair of massive wings and a stinger

on its tail. Prissy primes call it a 'wyvern'. Like it matters. It's kept in a tower not far from

the Prison. They feed it the worst sorts of criminals. It's called Riding the Wyrm."

The cambion grinned horridly.

"I can think of several such creatures from my plane and could probably craft such an

illusion, but not knowing much of Sigil, I am not sure how believable the beast's escape

and attack would be, particularly if I do not have an exact mental image of the beast...let

me present an alternative for your consideration, how would the appearance of a

rampaging balor or pit fiend do? Would that be believable here in Sigil?"

"That's perfect." the cambion said, "We'll just wait and see how to implement it...."

He turned to Salogel.

"Anraat's still out, does it look like the coast is clear?"

Salogel nodded.

"Let us be off."

Yoss nodded uncomfortably and prepared himself to cast the spells when necessary, but

otherwise followed the group, continuing the crotchety old man routine in an attempt to

somewhat obscure his appearance.

The cambion motioned for Salogel to depart, and soon he did, followed shortly by

Valese, who signaled the party when the less manuverable were to leave. Yoss was with

the cambion and Elister, and the three of them quickly sprinted between shadows and lit

streetlights, weaving from side to side throughout the streets until they found a fence

made of sharpened spikes that surrounds a much larger expanse he hadn't seen before.

It reeked of carrion, too, and before long, as Valese motioned for the rest of the group

to enter the nearest "safe" zone, Yoss notice the remains of bodies impailed through pikes

set up in patterns around the corners of the square. It was Petitioner's Square, where

executions were carried out in Sigil by a faction called the Mercykillers, and perhaps with

too much relish. The rotting stench was nearly unbearable, and a few nocturnal birds, bats

and rats chewed on the remains of various condemned. A pair of stray dogs fought over a

rotted foot, but were soon scared away at the cambion's approach. Some dead were

displayed in cages, some on pikes, and all were in various stages of decomposition. Not

surprisingly, the ground was also littered with white and gray bones, which were no

doubt picked clean by scavengers. Some hung higher than others, and there were a few

single severed heads on pikes in addition to the bodies.

Past the next wall was what looked like a gallows poll and a smaller building--probably

a guard post of some sort, where lights shone from within. Yoss couldn't see much of the

entire area due to the dark, but a few braziers lit the square here and there and gave it a

hellish glow.

Everyone remained tensely silent. Valese, Salogel, and Anraat were nowhere in sight,

but off in the distance, Yoss could see three Harmonium guards and a few Mercykillers.

They were patrolling and having a normal conversation, though they were too far away to

hear anything.

"He's inside." the cambion whispered, "I'm sure of it."

"Is this where you would like me to provide the distraction, hopefully clearing out those

guards?" Yoss whispered back, in a barely audible whisper.

The cambion squinted.

"Wait..."

"Why?" hissed Elister, "It's just three of them, and five of us."

Valese was behind him before he knew it, and she motioned something in sign

language. Yoss wasn't sure, but he thought she was indicating that no one else was

present on the other side. The cambion nodded.

"Better be on the safe side." he said.

She also made a sing to Yoss that he guessed indicated to make her invisible.

"Nod once, and disappear." Yoss whispered.

Valese nodded, and Yoss prepared his spell as quietly as he could.

"You have about ten minutes..."

With his final gesture, Valese vanished from view. Yoss felt her lips press against his

forehead quickly, but she was then gone. The guards continued their discussion and this

time began advancing in their direction.

"Now's the time for your demon, wizard boy." the cambion hissed.

Yoss began summoning his illusionary spectral force, visualizing something horrible

occurring within sight of the guards.

As they advanced forward, they saw a sudden flash and a towering figure dressed in

black robes stepping out of a portal, holding a glowing stave in his hand. The figure

chanted mysterious words and waved the stave in an intricate pattern above the ground.

As he finished he spat on the ground and screamed:

"You paid me and mine in blood and now I return the favor tenfold!"

The demon then disappeared back into his portal, which promptly closed. Slowly the

ground began to glow with arcane figures and, in a flash of light and with a whiff of

brimstone a towering scaly creature appeared, stretching out its wings and lashing its tail.

Almost immediately, sheets of fire flowed forth from the creature, shooting between the

guards, and the air began to drastically warm in its presence. The pit fiend slowly turned

its attention to the guards, who heard within their minds a horrible voice hissing:

"I hope you will satissssfy my hunger, mortalssss!"*

Yoss waited carefully as he gazed upon the terrified guards. They froze in trepidation,

whimpering like boy scouts.

"F-fall back!" one of them shouted.

Another inquisitive Hardhead attempted to speak to the Pit Fiend.

"Who sum--?"

His comrades quickly pulled him back and the four guards departed, fleeing through the

side gate, gone in less than a minute.

Smiling, the cambion got up and quickly ran through the shadows, nearing the small

building in the center of the square. Elister soon followed, but no one stepped into the

center, for the braziers lit that area in a dim glowing ring. Before long, Yoss saw Anraat

and Salogel stepping out from the darkness to open the lock in the front door, which was

quickly and efficiently deactivated. The cambion waited patiently by the door, listening

intensely with Anraat at his side.

"Nothing." she said, "There's no back door either. We have him cornered."

Yoss waited for further instruction, attempting to mentally maintain the image of the

Fiend setting about the area, quickly dismembering and igniting a couple illusory

nondescript individuals that appeared to come out to challenge the monstrosity, littering

the area with their charred corpses. He preferred this, in fact, to what he feared the

cambion and Anraat were actually planning to do.

The cambion broke down the door and both he and Elister burst in.except no one was

present, only an empty table, a bookshelf, and a few weapon racks along with a tabard

sporting the Mercykiller's symbol. Salogel readied his bow as the cambion broke down

the second door. Again, no one was inside. The cambion growled.

"We've been deceived!"

"He could be stationed somewhere else." Salogel said.

"No he isn't!" Elister said, "Beringe was posing as one of them today, and he told me

himself Myron has a shift here tonight."

The cambion relaxed for a second.

"Well this is sure to attract this attention eventually, anyway. What paladin wouldn't be

obliged to rid the city of a threatening fiend? We just have to find someplace to hide until

he shows."

As Yoss continued to wait outside, he saw some more people approaching. He

recognized three of them as the Hardheads you scared off plus the Mercykiller with them.

But they'd brought more friends. Another Mercykiller, and this one was a short woman

with a sword nearly as tall as she.

Next to her was a much taller Harmonium officer, and he not only towered over his

comrades, but somehow looked more majestic than any of them. There was an unnatural

glow around him that somehow commanded respect; his skin was pale and naturally

luminescent. He wore no helm, and his white-gold hair flows naturally over his

shoulders. His features were also slender, elegant, and almost androgynous. In his hands

he held a halberd that seemed to have an equally impressive sheen. Somehow Yoss knew

he's the one this group is looking for. In fact, he had heard of him before, somewhere.

Myron Osterhage.

The aasimar. Just as tieflings were infamous for being touched with the blood of lower

planar beings, the aasimar were planars from the opposite end of the spectrum, containing

celestial blood in their ancestry. Just looking at Lord Osterhage was enough to tell he was

the polar opposite of the horrid cambion.

"By the gods!" the female Mercykiller screamed when she saw Yoss' illusionary

demon, "Take it down!!"

But Myron only looked relaxed.

Yoss continued to play the old man, cowering against the wall in apparent terror of the

fiend. He concentrated as he cowered in mock fear, continuing to maintain the image of

the fiend, having it fling a mutilated, burning corpse in the direction of the lesser guards

(landing just close enough for them to see the ravaged features and smell the charred

flesh) and come at them in a fiery tempest. At the same time, however, he also attempted

to project his own image with someone else's voice within the building, stating:

"Osterhage has appeared outside!"

The guards were frozen in terror, but Lord Osterhage advanced toward the fiend and

studied it, all the while maintaining a defensive stance.

"It's an illusion!" he said.

The other guards relaxed a little.

"Are you sure?" the woman asked.

"Positive." Myron replied.

He then struck the fiend with his halberd, and it dissipated almost instantly. The other

five now entered the open area, looking bewildered. Lord Osterhage looked at Yoss with

some concern.

"Are you alright?" he asked, "Did you see anyone else around here?"

"Thank you, milord!" Yoss said in a quavering voice, "I think I am alright. I saw this

wizard appear and summon this horrible fiend. When it appeared I was scared and I just

tried to get out of the way. I heard that door explode and a voice in there."

Yoss indicated the small building.

".but I dunno if the fiend or the wizard done it. Screw this crazy place, I gotta go

home to Toril..."

Yoss continued to cower against the wall as he mentally focused the image he created

inside the building to say, in a much quieter voice "he may be coming in to you, but if he

doesn't - get outside quick", and had it vanish.

The cambion squinted at the illusion as Salogel kept a careful eye on the window,

readying his bow.

"Shit." the cambion said, "Six of them, five of us. But I count for two or three at least.

We can take them."

In less than a second, the doors burst open, and out charged the cambion with Anraat

and Elister at either side. Salogel was in tow behind them, with his bow drawn. Lord

Osterhage's eyes widened, but as he readied his halberd, someone landed on top of him.

Valese, having been invisible before, now appeared in view. Giggling wildly, she was

still on him like a monkey on a tree; the aasimar swayed and lost his balance as she

punched the blade of her sword through the back of his red shiny breast plate. He

stumbled forward as frothy blood spewed from his mouth.

The cambion drew his serrated hand-and-a-half sword and attacked the nearest

Hardhead. In only a second or two, he had felled him in two powerful blows, cleaving

through his armor first and slicing his throat second, ripping his neck to a thread.

Salogel let two arrows loose, one of which hit a Hardhead in the shoulder, and though

he was not dead, he dropped his weapon and clutched his wound in agony, for some

reason preferring to writhe on the ground.

Anraat reached for her long sword, and as she drew it the blade shined bright with red

flames. As she tossed off her drab cloak, revealing her elegant elven frame and silvery-

white hair, she quickly sliced into the next halberd-wielding guard. Elister charged and

swiped at one of the Mercykillers with his broadsword, driving him back, though he only

gave his enemy a negligible cut. The second blow was parried by the man's shield.

Yoss slowly stood up and made more distance, attempting to stay out of the way of the

melee and still acting surprised. Valese jumped off Myron like a frog and lunged at the

female Mercykiller with her short sword and dagger but similarly found her thrusts and

jabs batted away. The warrior attempted to swing her blade once more, but was soon met

by an arrow from Salogel. Gritting her teeth, the pained woman swung her claymore

wildly at Valese, but missed the nimble tiefling by a hair.

The other Mercykiller swung his axe at Elister only to clang against his shield, while

Anraat skipped around her opponent, slashing wildly as she passed him, only to split his

skull in twain with one carefully aimed blow. The wound cauterized instantly due to the

enchantment of her weapon. Finished with his guard, the cambion charged Valese's

Mercykiller and drove her back, placing one deep cut along her flanks. Stepping back,

she parried the next blow from his powerful weapon, though her knees bent from the

force and she soon knelt holding the sword above her head in desperation.

And though no one was expecting it, Lord Osterhage summoned his strength and

lunged at the cambion, brutally slicing him across the chest with the axe blade of the

halberd and skewering him with the spear-end. The cambion was nearly knocked down

by his powerful blows, and his expression changed from smug cruelty to pure hatred.

Taking no chances, Yoss attempted to conjure another illusion of additional warriors,

though to his dismay it doesn't sway the remaining fighters.

Elister's Mercykiller drew a horn from his side and, backing away as quickly as he

could, blew for help. The sound of the bugle echoed into the night sky for only seconds

before Elister smashed it out of his hand. Anraat closed in on the Mercykiller from the

side and ran him through with her flame blade. The sword punched through his

breastplate and heated the armor, and as she pulled out, the wound had cauterized on both

sides, and the breastplate as well as chainmail links were now oozing down his side as

blood. The guard screamed in agony as he fell.

Salogel, on the other hand, sent two more arrows into the fray, missing Lord Osterhage,

but impaling the remaining Mercykiller. Only arrows feathers were seen imbedded into

her; the rest of the arrow had punctured her completely and a good portion of the

arrowhead and shaft pierced through her back. Still, she was alive by a thread, and

collapsed in pain instead of fighting.

Lord Osterhage showed the cambion no mercy as the two staggered from their deep

wounds. With a deft and brutal thrust, he skewered the cambion through the shoulder

with the halberd before he could lift the sword anew.

"FUCK! YOU BASTARD!!"

Even more enraged than before, the cambion ripped the halberd out himself, spilling

more of his own blood, gritting his now reddened fangs, and burried his blade into Lord

Osterhage, cutting him across the shoulder and slicing his chest. The blows, of course,

were somewhat deflected by the aasimar's armor, but he was still knocked down.

He stumbled and fell, but amazingly enough, he managed to catch himself with his own

hands. The cambion backed off a little himself, cursing as he unstoppered a blue-flasked

potion and quaffed it down. Yoss knew what is was as well; a potion of healing often

made by the very sortstemples he debated against.

Now finding the opportunity, Valese struck Lord Osterhage and Anraat did the same,

but he still did not fall. Myron looked up this time as Yoss' illusions of more enemies

surrounded him. Elister, Valese, Anraat, and Salogel (drawing his bow back) were

closest. Another cambion seemed to step out from the building as well, while the real

cambion continued to curse.

The cambion breathed heavily. Annoyed, he kicked the groaning Hardhead and stabbed

him through the throat with his sword to finish him off. The Mercykiller was silent and

gurgling bloody spittle already, but he took no chances and decapitated her where she

lied.

Finally he sheathed the wicked sword and approached Lord Osterhage, who was

weakened, not the least from physical damage, but from the poison Valese had injected

him. His vision blurred and doubled. It now looked like there were countless more

opponents, not just five.

"So you know," the cambion said, "there's nothing I enjoy more than harming

celestials."

The cambion grabbed the back of Myron's white mane, tilted his head back, and spat

bloodily in his face. He then smashed his fists into Myron's head repeatedly as Anraat

and Valese held him in place, beating him back and forth, right and left, up and down.

When he was satisfied with pummeling, the cambion kicked him a few times and spat on

him again. Myron was surely unconscious, and his noble face was now bloodied and

resembles ground hamburger, like Christ at Golgotha.

"I'd piss on you if I hadn't lost so much blood..."

"You might have killed him, you know." Elister said, "We need him alive."

"At this point I hardly care. Allright, put him in the bag and we'll give this place the

laugh."

Yoss glanced around sadly at the carnage, but continued to weave illusions, making the

illusory members of the group continue to battle replicas of Myron and his entourage, and

also to conceal the identities of the corpses that littered the area. He focused intensely,

trying to maintain the images as long as he could before the group was to flee. It was

better than looking at what was really happening.

Anraat retrieved a sack from her belt and gingerly spread it along the ground. She then

carefully put Lord Osterhage into the sack. Almost immediately it was apparent this was

no ordinary sack, for it did not increase in size or volume with the addition of a 6'6"

armored aasimar. The halberd fit in as well, along with a few other Harmonium weapons.

She soon closed the magical bag and looked around. Elister cautiously glances back and

fourth as well. He walked a few feet spireward.

"Did you hear that?" he said.

Salogel, who was picking arrows out of victims, stopped instantly. Valese followed, and

soon the three of them advanced toward the gallows pole and peaked on the left side.

And there he was, a dark, silent robed figure; still, but barely visible in the dark.

"Hey you!" Elister shouted, "What do think you're--"

Valese put her finger over her lips.

"SHHHH!!!!"

The figure ran instantly, and Salogel fired two arrows into the darkness, to no avail.

"I'll get him eventually..."

"Shit, we've been seen!" Elister muttered.

"You fuck-tard!" said Valese.

The cambion quickly caught up.

"Someone was watching us." Anraat said. "Could be a Guvner spy, or a berk in the

wrong place at the wrong time."

The cambion growled.

"And he likely went back to his master. We've been in enough trouble for one evening,

and I doubt we could find him if we put up a chase. Besides, he was probably fooled by

wizard-boy's illusions. Let's give this place the laugh before he returns with friends."

"I'll plant the amulets!" Valese said. No one argued.

She scampered off to where the battle was fought as the rest of the group made post-

haste in the shadows through the clockwise side of Petitioner's Square.

Unspeakably depressed, Yoss stayed and maintained his illusion while Valese planted

the amulets, this time attempting to make himself and Valese appear to be commoners

who were slightly injured in the battle. When she finished, he fled with her instead.

"Where the hell are you going, berk?" the cambion said.

"Let him stay with Valese." Anraat said, "She brought him, remember?"

"Fine, but we have to get going."

The cambion, Elister, and Salogel departed, but Anraat followed you back as Yoss kept

his eye and mind on the illusion. Valese reached into her pack and pulled out an amulet

with a symbol that closely resembles the one he saw at the weapon stand earlier. As

Anraat approaches, however, Valese quickly pocketed it.

"Meet us tomorrow at the House of the Griffin." she said, "Don't forget."

Valese grinned and nodded, but her smile faded as soon as Anraat left. She then drew

fourth two such amulets--one of the Fated's symbol and another with a different faction

symbol and laid one on the ground near the slain corpses, looking as if it were

haphazardly knocked off the way the weapons have been knocked out of the guards

hands. The second amulet she threw into the threshold of the guard post.

Turning to see that Yoss was still with her, Valese smiled, but remained silent and

quickly departed from the square, taking a different path than the others. She motioned

for you to follow.

Yoss tried to make a mental image of the faction symbol he did not recognize and

quickly follows Valese away from the scene. She scampered off into the night while he

closely follow her. Unlike last time, she did not pause to look at the scenery or chat about

silly things. Instead, she was fast and seemed to know the quickest route back to the

Ubiquitous Wayfarer. She took him over fences, under archways, and into narrow alleys

before he found himself back on Ironmonger street and at the inn. Thankfully, he didn't

run into anyone along the way.

"Is it safe to stay here, or should we grab Nherid and relocate..." Yoss whispered,

"Elister knows us and this place..."

Valese almost laughed.

"We're fine. He's the one who was seen and not us."

"He is not really the one that worries me, if that cambion frowns at him, he is likely to

give a detailed history of his life...and I am a bit afraid that we might just be loose

threads..."

Yoss sighed, looking rather sad.

"But I wouldn't put too much weight on my words, quite the hypocrite I am. Here I go

on about one right nasty sod I knock off like it was the end of existence and then actively

I participate in THAT...maybe I should just try and avoid people, I fear that I don't do

anyone much good."

He sighed again.

"Now, do you think you might be able to tell me a bit more about your part in that...I

am guessing that it was a bit of "fucking with people", but I don't know enough 'bout the

various factions here to fully understand what was going on. It also seemed like you were

hiding a bit from our companions there..."

Valese studied him for a moment.

"I'm not fond of them." She said, "In fact, I fucked up their scheme a bit. You see, some

of my fellow Chaosmen told me I was too much of a namer, so I figured that harming the

cause of the Anarchists...who use us as pawns anyway...would be going against the norm.

See, if you support the cause of chaos all the time you become too predictable.

That and they're also working for this blood who wants to be pulling the strings in Sigil.

He wants to start a faction war or something. Not that I would mind it, but I think he's the

one that needs to be knocked down a notch. So I made sure I'd leave clue that points to

his faction.

Eh...actually, they just pissed me off too many times and took too much jink off the top

of my cut, but it's a good excuse, anyway."

"What faction does the 'string-puller' belong to?" Yoss said, "Was that the second

symbol that you left for finding?"

He hesitated

"...and do you plan on meeting them tomorrow? Like I said, I can't say I would trust

that lot not to try to cut their costs in several ways with a singular action...or do they still

need you for something?"

"Maybe, maybe not...I'll be gone once they catch on...but at least it isn't obvious. I hurt

both the Anarchists and their enemies. I don't discriminate."

"Whatever you choose, do be careful - that is a right nasty lot and I already regret

aiding them...though I do harbor a suspicion that you may have done them more harm

than they realize..."

"And how far would you be willing to go to learn about that.?" Valese said.

"I am not sure...I guess I would have to decide along the way what I would be willing

to do..."

"Why don't we find out? Are you coming in?"

"Well, I guess that going back into this inn is one thing I am willing to do..."

Grinning, he followed Valese back into the Ubiquitous Wayfarer. Now that it was

nearing antipeak, the lower level was far less crowded than it was before. There were less

than 10 people who remained, and that included the bartender herself (who was cleaning

up). Nherid was still there and she seemed to be arguing with another client. The

remaining customers kept to themselves and looked like they're preparing to leave or

retire upstairs. Yoss soon went to the bartender to get the key for his room and then

picked a random table and took a seat.He stared off into space for a while, lost in

introspection. Valese was waved her hand in front of his face. He snapped out of it with a

slight jump.

"Ahhh, sorry there. 'Fraid I was just trying to absorb this evening's events and I drifted

off. I shouldn't spend so much time thinking, it might just be the end of my mind..."

His face contorted momentarily with a strange grin before he snapped back again.

"So, what now..." he said trailing off for a second, "...say, sorry, but I was too

preoccupied to ask earlier - are you ok? If you were injured back there I have some

limited healing skills and I should have a look at any wounds you sustained..."

Valese shook her head.

"I'm fine."

Her dexterous hands found a way onto his shoulders and gripped them firmly but

gently. Somehow they worked their way up and slipped into the collar of his tunic.

"Are you feeling tense? Up for anything else...?"

"Tense?" he said, "Yes. Up for anything else...almost always. Now should I do

anything else?...that I do not know..."

Valese continued to gently massage him at the shoulders.

"Are you going to take Valese to your room...?"

"Well, that really depends upon whether Valese wants to go to Yoss's room or not...she

is under no obligation to go. What does Valese truly want?"

Valese only smiled and locked her gaze with his own.

"If I didn't want to I would've left. Do you want me to get Nherid? She likes

threesomes."

Yoss smiled and returned her gaze.

"I am not sure that it would be a good idea. I seek pleasure but I also wish to give it in

return. I would like to offer you my undivided attention and I fear that an extra person

might confuse the situation and detract from everyone's experience. Or perhaps I am a bit

greedy myself and wish to be the singular focus of your attention..."

He paused.

"But leaving her without lodging does seem rather rude, perhaps I should arrange for a

separate room for her. Might as well use the coin while I have it, this nasty little cynical

bit of my mind still expects to be beaten senseless...well, beyond what is pleasurable, that

is...robbed, and set up for one thing or another when I wake. Oh well, no matter."

Yoss smiled at Valese again, but she looked concerned for a split-second for some

reason, though her expression then returned to its normal smugness.

"Nherid's got a room already, Vlaese thinks, and she won't like being left behind. Let's

go before she notices us."

"Is there a problem?" Yoss said, "If I offended you in some way, I am sorry. Perhaps

this is not such a good idea after all...besides, it is getting very late and thre is quite a bit

of work that I need to do to prepare for the morrow..."

He sighed wearily and stood up. Valese raised and eyebrow.

"What? No, not at all."

"You looked like you were worried for a moment there...please, what was it that

troubled you?"

He looked concerned as he studied her, but Valese only shook her head.

"It was nothing. Let's go, huh?"

It then occurred to Yoss that the moment Valese' expression flickered was when he

suggested, even jokingly, that sleeping with her might bring about ill results..

He sighed.

"I think it was something Valese...and I think it might be better if I spent the night

alone, this has become rather complicated. That being said, I still would like to talk about

whatever trouble or unease I have caused you. I admit my sense of humor is rather

acerbic but I thought you, of all people, might not take it too seriously. Again I apologize

if I offended but you looked more worried than angered there. Would you like to talk

about it now or should we wait until tomorrow?"

He continued to look worried, but studied her intently. Valese only gave him an odd

look and laughed uneasily. She got up.

"I don't mind talking, but you were right, it's kinda late and I'll be busy tomorrow.

Guess you'll have to show me what you've got some other time then."

Yoss smiled back once more.

"I will consider that a promise and hold you to it some day...by the hells, I am afraid

that I will truly hate myself more in the morning than I do now! At least now you can tell

your friends of a berk who is crazier than you are.

You know what I think of that lot that you are meeting with tomorrow and though I said

it before, I will say it again - do be careful. If you find yourself in more trouble than you

can handle seek me out and I will do my best to help you - no strings attached...

I look forward to our next interaction Valese, be it tomorrow or in the distant future, be

it mental or physical. Until we meet again..."

He bowed slightly as he bared her a good night. Valese gave a warm smile as she

departed. It now occurred to him that his initial suspicions, cynical or not, weren't far

from the truth. And though she didn't seem to bare him ill-will, he doubted Valese was

any better than the thugs he met at the bridge, though he could be certain she was both

more cunning and dangerous. And hence for the first time in a long time Yoss did not feel

the need to satiate his curiosity. It is without question that more could be said regarding

the complex tiefling Xaositect that is Valese, though her story is a tale more sad, brutal,

and perverse than this one.

As she left, he gave another sad sigh and investigated his room on the upper floor.

Before he turned in, Yoss locked the door, places the chair's back just under the door

handle, making it difficult to open the door from the exterior and used his staff as

reinforcement to make it even more difficult to open. Finally, thus settled, he attempted

to fall asleep.

It has been a long, unpleasant, and informative evening....

Yoss didn't expect to wake up any time soon.

For a picture of the Anarchist party go to http://elfwood.lysator.liu.se/loth/d/a/davidm/davidm.html