"I've no home, no warm place to call kip, I've no fam'ly, no birthright nor kin. I am I, nothing more."from A Tiefling's Lament
First Lady Day of Retributus, 126 HR
The minotaur Blackhoof had given them the Blood Pit and the Smoldering Corpse Bar as places to find information on the murders. As the Blood Pit had yielded no real results, the ragtag group of semi-official investigators decided to try their luck at the bar. Left of the Blood Pit they turned into a narrow alley to head back towards the Gatehouse. This way they would reach their destination without having to cross the Night Market again. At least that was what Jana said, and she knew her way around this part of Sigil best. Naghûl had also lived here for a few years, but that was quite a while ago and the dabus had rebuilt a lot in the meantime. After crossing the narrow alley, they came back to a somewhat wider and busier street. They saw the Hive's usual mix of beggars, prostitutes, bubbers, thugs and a few possibly ordinary, if bitterly poor, citizens out on a night's work or on their way to or from one of the many run-down taverns in the area. They were just passing a large, seemingly haphazard pile of junk, behind which a few goblins had set up a makeshift camp, when a hoarse cry made Naghûl flinch.
"Dagon!" resounded loud and far through the dark street.
The others also wheeled around. Naghûl frowned. Even in the Hive, shouting the name of a demon lord through the neighborhood was not entirely commonplace. Too many tanar'ri whose unwanted attention could have been attracted. Why someone would call the Prince of the Darkened Depths here might have numerous reasons - and none of them the tiefling wanted to know more about, if he was honest. He was directing his steps behind Jana around the pile of junk when another call rang out.
"Lamashtu!"
The same voice, it seemed, but this time it was calling upon the Demon Queen of Monstrous Births. Now Jana stopped and looked around uneasily. A man emerged from a side alley, not easily recognizable in the darkness, but the call seemed to have come from that direction. He didn't scuffle like a bubber, didn't have the overconfident gait of a thug, but neither the tired and exhausted one of a normal, battered Hive dweller. - No, he moved in a strangely jerky, choppy, unnatural way ...
"Fraz-Urblu!" he shouted now. "Yes, and Zuggtmoy!"
He moved in an almost distorted manner, all parts of his body seemed to twitch in a different direction. Naghûl noticed the discomfort of the others when Jana explained that the names of various demon lords were being called here. His gut instinct was quite against even going near such a berk, who he felt would have been best off in the Gatehouse. Unfortunately, that same gut feeling also told him that this might be of interest to them.
"I say we follow him," he explained quietly. "But at a distance. I want to know what happens when someone shouts the names of demon lords through the Hive. I just don't want to stand next to them."
The man now moved down the street, twitching and convulsing, continuing unperturbed with his strange behavior. "Malcanthet, the Beautiful!" he exclaimed.
A nearby duergar immediately moved to keep her distance from the berk, muttering something about damned lunatics or clueless. They followed him, and Lereia eyed him with a mixture of interest and pity.
"Is he possessed?" she asked, more to herself than to the group.
Sgillin raised his shoulders helplessly and they continued to follow him, dodging muddy puddles and garbage and always taking care not to lose sight of him in the darkness.
"Pazuzu!" he now shouted, and the Hive dwellers in this narrow street all immediately moved a good distance away from him when he passed them. Then he moved towards the next side street, and Naghûl quickened his pace a little. "Let's follow him."
The others just nodded silently and also walked a little faster. Amid shouts of "Graz'zt! Demogorgon!" the man now turned into the alley, his limbs twitching. But just as his pursuers were about to leave the street to follow him, three figures stepped into their path. A tiefling, a githzerai and a dwarven woman, all armed and wearing single, mismatched pieces of armor.
"Hey there!" the woman called out to them. "Don't be in such a hurry!"
Naghûl sighed. A typical group of Hive thugs, it seemed. That was the last thing they needed. Not that he really feared a confrontation with them, but it was an unnecessary and annoying nuisance.
"Yeenoghu!" they heard the madman shout before he disappeared from their sight.
"Hey there," Sgillin answered the dwarf calmly, and Naghûl crossed his arms in annoyance. "What do you want? Shove off."
The thug laughed harshly and spat out. "And who says that? Factol Sarin himself, or what?"
Naghûl could see Sgillin reaching for the bow under his cloak and Kiyoshi gripping his yari tighter. He eyed the dwarf disparagingly. "No, his court wizard, dear Lady Erin," he replied sarcastically.
The githzerai grinned. "We just want a bit of a jink."
"You can have an empty bone-box, leatherhead," Naghûl retorted, now in a clearly pronounced Cant again. "Make way, or I'll make you."
None of the three thugs were in a hurry to comply with this request. They remained standing casually in the entrance to the side alley. At least, a loudly shouted "Orcus!" indicated that the madman was apparently still walking down the alley.
The dwarf now turned to her companions. "Hey, because that berk was talking about Erin ... you know what they say?"
The gith laughed. "That there's something going on between Sarin and Erin. Everyone says so, right?"
"Sure." The dwarf grinned broadly, while a now more distant "Baphomet" rang out from the alley. Naghûl grew tired of this clownery. Not enough that the three berks were hindering their mission, now they also badmouthed his factol. Well, too bad for them.
"I'll count to three," he warned. "And then I'll continue on my way. Between you or over you."
"About time," Sgillin said quietly.
The thugs were still not impressed. The tiefling now grinned broadly at his friends' words. "You mean that the factol of the Hardheads and the posh Sensate ...? Well, I wouldn't push her out of bed either."
The dwarf giggled and Naghûl snorted irritably. "Three," he said without counting to one or two. "Tough luck."
He spread his hands for a spell while Sgillin put an arrow on the bowstring and Kiyoshi raised his yari. But at that moment, a hoarse cry rang out from the alley. Not the name of a demon lord this time, but a cry that mixed terror, pain and fear. Then it broke off with a gurgle. The thugs looked around.
"What's that?" muttered the tiefling.
"Sounds bad," the dwarf noted. "Let's get out of here."
The three of them took to their heels and quickly disappeared towards the Blood Pit. Relieved to have avoided a time-consuming fight, Naghûl now ran into the alley from which the scream had come, the others close behind him. It was one of the typical, very narrow streets of the Hive, multi-story, run-down houses on either side, with the upper stories leaning a little against each other. In some places, rickety wooden walkways had been built between the windows, so that one could reach the opposite building three, four or five stories above ground. Only a solitary, twinkling lantern above a store that was closed at this time of day gave a little light, otherwise the alley was dull and dark. They walked a few steps, looking around in all directions, but couldn't spot the person they were following. The alley was almost completely deserted, but in front of one of the houses stood an elderly halfling smoking a pipe.
"Hey," Naghûl addressed him. "Some addle-cove just went through there. Did you see him? Was shouting the names of 'ri lords."
"And where did that cry come from?" Sgillin added.
The halfling slowly took the pipe out of his mouth. "Back there." He pointed straight ahead. "From the side alley. You'd better not go there."
"Because?" Sgillin wanted to know.
The halfling raised his shoulders, obviously a little puzzled by the question. "Well, could be dangerous."
They nodded their thanks and ran on in the direction indicated. The old man just sighed, perhaps expecting to hear more screams from there soon. He mumbled something about "pity about the pretty young things", but they were already too far away to really understand him. They turned down the back alley, and indeed ... They had only taken a few steps into the narrow street when they saw him. The man who had just walked past them, twitching strangely and shouting the names of demon lords, lay lifeless in the damp dirt of the alley. Kiyoshi immediately took up position at the entrance to the small street to cover their backs and scare away any curious onlookers. Lereia, on the other hand, rummaged in her pockets, obviously looking for something.
"Damn!" Naghûl exclaimed. He knelt down next to the corpse, looking for signs of strangulation, but also signs of life.
Meanwhile, Lereia had probably found what she was looking for, a small bottle of blue liquid, and crouched down next to Naghûl. "Shall we pour him a healing potion?" she suggested.
The Sensate knew that her efforts stemmed from her good heart and desire to help and did not want to discourage her. However, the strangulation marks he had discovered on the madman's neck gave reason to fear the worst.
"He's dead ... I think."
"We can try," Lereia insisted.
Meanwhile, Sgillin took the bow off his shoulder and observed the area. The young woman, however, resolutely uncorked the bottle and tried to open the man's mouth with one hand and pour the potion with the other.
Jana looked around inconspicuously, only glancing briefly at the body. "Is there anything left to do or should I get a collector?" she asked soberly.
"Wait and see," Sgillin muttered.
Lereia tried her best, but most of the healing potion missed the mark. She uncorked a second bottle.
"Open his mouth more," the half-elf advised.
Lereia tried, but with little success. "It's very difficult."
Sgillin wanted to say something in reply, but flinched as three dark brown-robed figures approached them - not from the direction Kiyoshi was covering, but from the other side of the alley. Naghûl immediately recognized who they were dealing with: collectors.
They had a kind of guild in the Hive and made it their business to bring all the dead found in the streets to the Mortuary. In return, they got a bit of jink from the Dustmen. It was a grim and macabre way of earning a living, but at least it was an honest one. One of the three now scuffled a little closer.
"Ah, what have we here?" He was a human, judging by his dirty face and voice a fairly young man, perhaps seventeen or eighteen years old.
Jana stood in his way. "He's ours, berk."
"Move away, boy," Naghûl came to her aid just in case. "That's not for you."
The young collector looked at them inquiringly and skeptically. "You don't look like one of our humble guild to me."
Sgillin handed him a few coins, which he accepted, but he didn't move just as little as the other two behind him. "Come on, shove off," the half-elf said, while Naghûl now adopted a sharper tone. "Get lost, brat."
Meanwhile, Lereia had tried to pour the second healing potion down the man's throat - with moderate success. "That's all I can do," she explained and felt for a pulse.
"So what?" Jana turned to the collectors. "He's still ours. Get lost or wait until we lose interest."
Now the second of them stepped forward, an older tiefling woman. "Why are you being so bitchy?" she asked Jana, obviously genuinely puzzled by the group's hostility.
The sorceress shrugged her shoulders. "Does it matter?" But she hesitated briefly, then pulled an apple out of her pocket, polished it on her sleeve and tossed it to the collector. "Here. I didn't mean it like that."
The collector caught the apple and slipped it into a pocket of her robe. "Thanks to you. But hey, what do you want with him, eh? He's a deader like the others. Has to go to the dead, that's how it is."
"Sure," Jana nodded. "If he's dead, you can have him as soon as we've finished with him."
Lereia sealed the two empty bottles and said a silent prayer for the dead man. Naghûl, meanwhile, had searched his pockets but found nothing of interest except for some junk and some greens. He stuffed everything back in and then took another quick look at the marks on his neck. Yes, the poor guy had probably been strangled, but that was all he could say. Except that the perpetrator probably was determined, strong and practiced if he had been able to kill the man by strangling him in such a short time. He also briefly focused on arcane residue in the area, but could not detect any. Sgillin, meanwhile, had looked around for traces, but shook his head gently. This was one of the few largely cobbled alleyways in the Hive, so there were no tracks to follow.
"Is that a friend of yours?" asked the third collector, a half-orc.
"That depends on who's asking," Jana replied. "And above all, why."
"Well, we always ask, we collectors," the half-orc explained. "So that they can say his name at the funeral. Or that we can tell the Dusties if there are any particular customs for the deader."
Jana glanced at the dead man and sighed softly. "I don't know what his name was," she explained. "Tell me, surely you've heard about the murders? Well, the ones where only ... addle-coves are murdered. Do you know anyone who took care of the bodies?"
Naghûl nodded to himself. A good idea to ask that question. And indeed, the tiefling woman made a confirming gesture. "Well, we took two away ourselves."
"Really?" Jana seemed surprised, not really expecting a positive answer. "And ... did you notice anything?"
The collector frowned. "Notice what?"
"I don't know, maybe ... something that didn't fit in? Or that they all had in common? Where were the two deaders when you found them? Isn't that one here part of those murders too? At least he was definitely addle-coved and was probably strangled."
The collector glanced at the dead man. "It would appear so. One of the others we found at the Darkwell Court and one in the Marble District."
Naghûl listened up. "The Darkwell Court isn't that far away, is it?"
"No, not that far," the tiefling woman confirmed.
"I'll fork out a bunch of jink if you know anything useful," Jana offered.
Inquiring and a little wary, the collector and her colleagues eyed the group so willing to pay for information about a deader in the Hive.
"Are you looking for someone in particular?" the young man asked. "Missing someone?"
"No, we ..." Jana began, but then interrupted herself. "I mean, I live here and I'm a bit worried that I might ... you know, that berk might put me in the dead-book too."
The tiefling woman nodded soberly. "It could happen to anyone."
At that moment, an idea seemed to occur to Lereia. "Is there someone in Sigil, a doctor or the like, who examines bodies after they pass away?" she asked.
The collector shrugged her shoulders. "Nah, not for those poor devils, no one examines them."
"Could we arrange that if we pay for it?" Lereia asked.
"Maybe." The woman began to look a little impatient, but Lereia didn't let up.
"May we try to find a mage or doctor to look at the body in a timely manner? We would like this gruesome story to be cleared up."
Sgillin shouldered the bow, while Kiyoshi still stood guard at the entrance to the alley.
The collector crossed her arms, clearly annoyed now. "Are you looking for a doctor for everyone who dies in the Hive?"
"No," Lereia replied politely. "Only if it points to a serial killer."
"And this one's supposed to lie around here that long?"
The young woman looked at the others, a little perplexed, before answering the collector. "I don't know ... Can't he be taken somewhere and laid out for a short time?"
"Yes!" the tiefling replied tensely. "In the Mortuary!"
Her half-orc colleague put his hand on her arm to calm her down and then turned to the group to ease the situation. "Does he have a name now?" he wanted to know. "At least the other poor sods had one."
"We don't know the name," Lereia explained again. "Do you remember the names of the others?"
"The others were called Verden and Eliath, I think."
Damn. The information struck Naghûl like an unexpected and painful bolt of lightning. Eliath, the man who had brought them to the Hive in the first place and because of whom they were standing in this dark alley...
Jana had also turned pale. "Was that the names of the others? The other deaders?"
The tiefling woman nodded. "Yes, did you know them? I'm sorry."
"Did they have family or friends that you know of?" Lereia asked cautiously. "We would like to offer our condolences."
Regretfully, the half-orc lifted his shoulders. "No idea, sorry. Just took them to the Mortuary, the Dusties will do the rest."
At that moment, Jana had an idea. "Surely two of you can get him to the Mortuary?" she asked. "Then one of you can show us the places where you found the other corpses?"
"But not for nothing!" the tiefling woman clarified immediately.
"Of course not," Jana reassured her.
Now the collector seemed quite interested. "What are you paying for the music?"
"Three greens," Naghûl offered, and the woman promptly tapped her forehead.
The Sensate grinned and Jana made an energetic gesture not to interfere in her negotiations.
"What does a tout take these days?" she asked. "Five stingers as far as to the Market Ward? So, fifteen for taking us to both places?"
The collector's face brightened. "For fifteen stingers I'll do it. Fifteen is great." When the half-orc grumbled grumpily to himself, she gave him an annoyed look. "I'll share with you!"
Jana grinned. "And another five for your silence. That makes a total of twenty." She untied a small leather pouch hanging from her belt and held it out to the tiefling.
The young collector seemed relieved that the conversation was coming to an end after all. "Well then, can we finally get rid of the deader?"
As the group nodded in response, the half-orc and the young human grabbed the corpse and loaded it onto a rickety, two-wheeled cart that they had left a little way behind them.
"About time," the half-orc muttered.
Then he pulled the cart away without saying goodbye while the young man pushed from behind.
The tiefling woman stayed behind. "All right," she said, "Let's go."
At the entrance to the alley, they briefly explained to Kiyoshi what had happened and then let the collector lead them to the Darkwell Court. The way was indeed not far, only a few dirty alleys later, after about twenty minutes of walking, they had reached the place. Once again, Kiyoshi positioned himself at the entrance to the square, and the collector led them to a spot not far from the large, canopied well that gave the place its name.
"This is where that Verden lay. A halfling."
"When was that?" asked Naghûl while Sgillin and Lereia searched the spot for traces.
"Um, three days ago, I guess." She thought for a moment. "Yep, three days. He was a bubber. Only had a few greens with him. And booze - cheap booze."
A shake of Sgillin's head told Naghûl that there were no more meaningful traces to be found. The tiefling concentrated on the place the collector had pointed to for residues of arcane energy, but could not perceive anything either. Unsurprisingly, after three days.
Jana looked around. "Can you think of anything else?"
"No, nothing," the collector replied. "I just picked him up."
"How long do you think the Dusties keep a deader after you've left the corpse there?" Jana wanted to know.
The tiefling woman shrugged. "Depends on how busy they are and whether there's still a funeral service to be held. Between a few hours and two or three days."
"Then why don't we stop by there," Sgillin suggested. "Maybe he's still there."
"If you're lucky," the collector nodded.
"I was afraid someone would say that," Naghûl sighed. The Mortuary was one of the last places he wanted to visit, but it seemed he had little choice.
"Let's not waste any time," Sgillin said.
"Do you still need me?" the collector interrupted their deliberations.
"I don't think so," Lereia replied. "Thank you for your help."
She was about to turn away and leave when Jana held her back once more. "Wait a minute. Do you examine the deaders before you hand them in? Did Eliath have something with him?"
"Just a few greens and a letter addressed to him," the tiefling answered. "That's why we knew his name."
"Do you still have the letter?" Naghûl asked immediately, while - almost at the same time - Lereia wanted to know: "Did Verden also have a letter?"
"Nope, we left it with him," the collector answered Naghûl's question and then turned to Lereia. "Verden? No, Grosh knew him remotely, that's how we knew his name. Can I go now?"
She was clearly getting impatient, and Naghûl understood. She had made a good deal that night and was surely either going to go drink some of it away or had a family and was looking forward to going home to them and having the rest of the night off. He looked questioningly at the others, who slightly shook their heads.
"Yes, that's it," he replied to the collector. "Thanks for the help."
She nodded curtly and then quickly moved away into the maze of Hive alleys, past Kiyoshi, who was still standing guard.
"So we have to go to the Mortuary," Jana stated with a sigh.
"Have you been there before?" Lereia wanted to know.
"Yes," the sorceress replied, obviously not very pleased. "But it's been a long time."
Naghûl was also anything but enthusiastic. "Yes ... and I really didn't want to go back. But it doesn't help."
So they set off and met with Kiyoshi at the entrance to the Darkwell Court. But they had been walking for only five minutes when Jana suddenly began to tremble.
"Oh ..." she said quietly and had to sit down on the stone steps at a nearby entrance.
"What's wrong?" Sgillin asked worriedly and knelt down next to her.
The young woman looked at them from suddenly cloudy, milky eyes, slumped forward with a soft groan and was then completely spaced out. The half-elf felt her pulse.
"What's wrong with her?" Lereia asked, startled.
"A vision?" Naghûl suspected.
"I think so too," Sgillin said. "She still has a pulse, but it's a little weak."
Lereia looked down at Jana with concern. "Is there anything I can do to help?"
The sorceress was obviously completely zoned out, breathing shallowly but evenly.
"I think we'll just have to wait and see," Naghûl replied, hoping very much that he was right.
He glanced briefly at Kiyoshi, who was the only one who had witnessed this before, back in Sarin's office, and the young soldier nodded in agreement.
Lereia dug a bottle out of her bag. "Maybe she needs some water when she comes to herself."
"Yes, could be good," Naghûl agreed. "Or a schnapps."
"I have some with me," Sgillin assured, eliciting a grin from the tiefling.
Of course his friend had schnapps with him. At that moment, Jana raised her head again. She had obviously heard the last sentences, because she mumbled weakly: "I ... don't need water. I need a schnapps ..."
"Ha!" Naghûl exclaimed triumphantly and Lereia put the bottle away. "I can't help with that."
Sgillin, on the other hand, could. "What would you like?"
"I don't care," Jana replied and let Naghûl help her to sit up. "Something strong. ... How long have I been away?"
"Not long," the tiefling reassured her, "Just a few moments."
Sgillin rummaged in his pockets, then held out a bottle of rum to Jana.
"I saw something," the young woman explained as she shakily reached for the bottle. "A knight with a child ..."
"What was the knight doing?" the half-elf wanted to know.
"It wasn't really a knight, it ..." Jana shuddered slightly as she apparently recalled the images. "It was a skeleton, but in armor and with a sword. It was carrying a newborn baby, wrapped in cloth ... It was night, there were stars. And water, the sea ... a coast ..." She uncorked the rum and took a good swig without batting an eyelid or even coughing.
"In birth and death, the generations embrace each other," Sgillin said thoughtfully.
Surprised by this unusual approach, Naghûl looked at the half-elf. "I don't know if that's the interpretation, but it's certainly poetic."
"Yes." Jana looked at Sgillin. "The skeleton embraced the infant and carried it. Like a father would carry his child. But ... Well, I'm sure it was real. A real scene. Nothing allegorical. Somewhere this skeleton was walking around with the child. Or ... is walking. Will be walking?" She sighed. "I can't tell."
Lereia frowned thoughtfully. "And the skeleton didn't seem to threaten the child?"
"The child was wrapped up thickly," Jana explained. "As if for a long walk. The skeleton seemed almost affectionate towards the baby, but ... I don't want to commit myself. It also had something threatening about it. Maybe it kidnapped the child or ... who knows." She shrugged her shoulders, a little helplessly.
"Hm, maybe some kind of curse," Naghûl pondered, more to himself. "A father carries his child to safety, beyond his own death?"
"Were you able to recognize anything of the surroundings?" Sgillin asked. "Trees, a beach or something?"
"There was a coast," Jana explained. "An ocean. Not a beach, though, but rocks. But I smelled salt. Fresh, cool sea air, a light wind ..."
"Hm." Sgillin furrowed his brows. "Does Sigil have a coast somewhere?"
"No," Naghûl replied, and once again he realized all too clearly that his friends were more or less new to Sigil, and thus clueless. "At the moment, we can only guess."
Sgillin looked back at Jana. "That was your second vision, wasn't it?"
"Yes, but the first one was different, longer. And I saw more than just a single image." Then she slowly pushed herself up, stood for a moment, swaying slightly, and finally nodded gently. "I think we can go on."
"Another question," Lereia said as she helped Jana to stand up. "What awaits us in the Mortuary?"
"Skeletons carrying children," Naghûl said sarcastically and raised his shoulders at a reproving look from Lereia. "Could happen."
"Why are you so reluctant?" Lereia asked, shaking her head. "The laying out of corpses can be held in an appropriate setting after all."
Naghûl suppressed an ironic laugh. If only she knew what to expect from the Dustmen. Certainly not what his young friend meant by an "appropriate setting". But she would see that for herself soon enough, no need to upset the apple cart just yet.
"I've had an experience there that truly is enough for once," was all he replied. "Besides, it's the whole faction I don't like particularly."
Lereia took a deep breath. "Then we should get it over with."
Sgillin nodded, while Jana seemed to share Naghûl's lack of enthusiasm. Kiyoshi's expression was impassive as usual.
"Yes," the tiefling said with a sigh. "But not today. It's already past anti peak, the rain is getting heavier and we're all tired and frozen after this day in the Hive." He looked at Jana. "Your kip lies on the way to the Mortuary. Can we eat something there, warm up and lie down for a few hours before we visit the Dustmen tomorrow?"
Jana nodded, obviously grateful for the suggestion. Sgillin, Lereia and even Kiyoshi also seemed relieved not to have to stumble through the Hive for several more hours in the cold and by night. So they made their way to Jana's house, exhausted, frozen and thinking about what they had learned the previous day.
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played February 29, 2012
Kiyoshi kept constant watch that evening because his player wasn't there. Originally, he was supposed to give a status report at the Barracks, but this then seemed somewhat contradictory due to the rather extensive discussion in the previous chapter.