Clymenstria: [Leaving the shattered temple district Clymestria loosens up and again stands straight, and having left behind the Athar guards on Brandy Lane.] Tarsheva, are we likely to see any more of those Athar berks? [Hearing a negative, Clymenstria reveals her amulet, and fluffs the feather which dangles from it] Praise Athena.Peter: Praise Athena m'lady, praise her in all your glory.
Snatch: (hearing the question and answer of clymestria/tarsheva, snatch too unsheaths her holy symbol, casting a bless spell on the group a little flamboyantly. Whirling with her tail a bit she turns once on her right foot, then jumps, to come down on the ground hard, as the vibrations of the ground eminate from her the spell takes effect. A smug and slightly placated snatch now walks chest high, free feeling with the group, casting aside the thoughts of athars, prison wardens, and slave runners.)
Peter: (to snatch) Thank you, your highness.
After passing by the Shattered Temple following Forgotten Lane a high wall decorated with the spikes and blades that seem to festoon nearly all buildings in Sigil, is erected on you left side. On your right side the cacophony of architecture continues as various building styles mix and entire bocks seem to merge together due to the population density of this area. There are small alleyways in these dense blocks leading to what seems to be open squares in the middle, creating tiny communities within. A family walks the street passing by two Hamutula Baatezu discussing something with a small group of Tieflings.
Brilligh: [Eavesdrops while passing the Baatezu and Tieflings.]
Grafnutz: So da whole sodding place crashed down 'round me.
Tiefling1: What did you do then Grafnutz?
Grafnutz: I took me Glaive an impaled a Dwarf an swung him 'round knockin over all da others. Den I caught dem on fire and stomped on der heads! Der not so tuff now. Dat's how I got dis skull belt buckle, ya know, ta remind me.... Ahhh Good times!
Tiefling2: That's a great story Grafnutz. I never get tired of you telling us how you ruined that Dwarf city.
Grafnutz: Yeah. It's a good story. It's true too! I have another one, dis one is better. So this one time me an Kel were in da Field of Nettles....... [conversation fades]
An ogre worker carries a couple of kegs into a tavern while a tall and wiry yellow skinned man runs down the street chasing a large red button rolling away from him. It seems to be magically pulled along as if by a long string. You can see a Gnome a small distance away giggling. The man yells out
"In a bag full of buttons
I'm that tiny unique one.....
Odd in size and color
Holes as round as the sun.....
I may not shine or sparkle
Or even catch most eyes.....
I may not match one's attire
Nor compare to all those flies.....
Though, I may not have a matching set
I've learned to stand alone.....
When it comes to wearing the britches
I surely can hold my own."
Clymestria: [keeping her hand near her sword when she sees the Baatezu, and then a ogre with something large in his hands, but as moments pass and the keg doesn't fly, nor does the nefarious clutch break apart in unison, and then the constant presence of the Harmonium guards she eases into her guard.]
There are many gnomes going about their business in this area. The entrance to Gnometown (aka Little Bytopia) is a large wrought iron gate in the wall on your left. The gate is open now, guarded by a group of gnomes armed with muskets and wearing plate armor. Gnomish merchants sell trinkets outside the gates but most people pay little (pun intended) attention to their wares. Looking in the gate you see small houses that don't fit the standard Sigil model, they look cozy and their architecture is similar to each other, but in a much smaller scale than a human's.
Brilligh: [scans the wares from her place in the caravan, marking the location of this neighborhood on her map. Not wanting to hold up the party, she will not stop to shop. Perhaps Peter would accompany her back here to look more closely for some magical items, unless Tarsheva thinks the Bazaar would be more fruitful.]
Peter: [whispers] Sure, I like magic.
Snatch: (passes closely to brilligh) PLEASE MAKE NOTE OF THIS PLACE ON YOUR MAP, I WOULD ENJOY TO DO A BIT OF SHOPPING IN THIS AREA WHEN WE ARE NOT EMPLOYED.
Clymenstria: [Takes a slight interest in their wares looking to see, in passing, if there seems to be anything whose use is obvious, and or obviously useful.]
Not far from Gnometown is Gurincraag, which means Dwarven Mountain. Heavily armed and armored dwarven guards patrol this sparsely populated area despite the large number of buildings here. There must be many smithies here due to the raucous hammering that can be heard. The sounds of them singing while working at the forge is beautiful and heartening, nearly all the dwarves on the street are either singing along or humming to the beat of the hammers working metal.
Clymenstria: [Hearing the pounding, she looks to Pfetfzet] We will return here to outfit our friend. Unless someone knows a better place to buy some exquisite arms.
Snatch: THE SMELL OF REAL ARMS! HOW I LONG TO WIELD A WEAPON APPROPRIATE TO MY STATURE, TO MY PEOPLE!! (a loud screech and strange odor accompany this outburst) TAKE A MOMENT TO LEARN A SUBTLTY OF SAURIAL SPEACH, THAT IS THE SMELL OF PRIDE MY FRIENDS!
Pfepftzet: [to Clymestria] Agreed. I shall also like to peruse their wares and perhaps trade some of my arms. It is rare that I pass through a city that may offer such a selection.
After another nearly an hour after Gurincraag, following Berk's Lane to Bloodgem Road, you exit the Lower Ward. The smog starts clearing and now you see that the stars above are actually fires from buildings far above you. You can even see people the size of ants walking about.Brilligh: Ah! This rusted city!! It's like to curl up from behind us and fall down upon us. What a terrible construct. Rusted Cage indeed! [begins to glance furtively behind and above her, as if she expects the city itself to descend on her, and hugs a little closer to the caravan, occasionally holding on to the side of the cart for balance.]
Snatch: IT DOES SEEM SO, BUT THIS IS ONLY A TRICK OF THE LIGHT, A TRICK OF THE EYE, PAY NO REAL ATTENTION TO IT, LEST YOU TAKE ANOTHER SPILL, HOLD ON TO ME IF NECESSARY FAIR LADY.
The buildings here on the border of the Lady's Ward are noticeably nicer with gates and walls protecting residents from regular folks. The number of Harmonium, while common in the Lower Ward, are everywhere in the Lady's Ward. The streets here widen and the citizens appear much more wealthy, except for their servants.
Snatch: (the presence of servants is a little unnerving, with little knowledge of contracts and the such, there is a looming feeling that perhaps one of these rich folks might think they own a body...)
The prison, oppressing the surroundings with its cold unforgiving design, is nearby and Mercykiller guards with their Baroque armor and polearms usher prisoners from the jail to the Tower of the Wyrm, guarded by crisply saluting guards. There you hear the screams of prisoners awaiting punishment. In Petitioner's Square there are pillocks, each occupied by a petty criminal with a sign dangling from their neck describing their crime(s). From the gallows dangle a couple of corpses being picked upon by giant ravens apparently left to rot. Dabus, the custodians of the city, float about cleaning up the square. Strange symbols float above their heads changing quickly like they're having a visual conversation. A patrol of Harmonium walk by with a dun colored dog with two heads, an Aoskian hound. They watch you as you pass noticing you working as guards and leave you be.
Brilligh: [keeps her eyes down, knowing it won't do a body any good to bother making work with this group, and then calls quietly over to Snatch] Looks like they have the belly of the beast all sewn up, so many tailors, eh?
Snatch: THEY ARE TRULY VIGILANT HERE, AND WE, GUARDS HERE, AMONG GUARDS, IN A GUARDED CITY, TAILORS INDEED.
Clyemstria: [Seeing that there is indeed a sense of civic justice makes her a bit calmer, but still on guard. The constant curious looks are a new experience for her, and she doesn't like it either. Though wowed by what is otherwise a mighty city, with splendorous sights. ]
Clymestria: [raises her head scanning the crowd with purpose, looking for what she hopes to be a knot of fellow Greeks, her head snaps towards the whistle, missing its implication but keying in on it in her search, and there they are, a group of acolytes. So long from her home, the Caduceus on his pin reads only as home and heath, and familiar craft work done in the service of a god. But which god she barely spares a though.]
Priest1: [in Greek] By Hermes! She's a looker. Athena, is that you!? [laughter]
Clymenstria: Hermes! Of course. Fool of a priestess.
Priest2: [in Greek] Quiet, she looks like a priestess! I don't want to get into trouble again.
Brilligh: [snorts, not knowing the words, but recognizing the cadence of a wolf call] Here we go...
One acolyte runs to Clymestria's side.
Snatch: (steps in the way) CAREFUL NOW CLYMESTRIA, WE KNOW NOT WHAT THEY ARE SAYING!
Priest2: [in common] Are you a priestess? We have not seen you before. I am Hermokrates neophyte priest of Hermes. It's not often that we meet cultured folks here in the 'cage.' Won't you come to our temple, our master would surely welcome you.
Snatch: (with a sudden realization) OH, YES, OF COURSE, YOU KNOW THIS TONGUE, MY APOLOGIES HUMAN.
Clymenstria: [in Greek] Hail, Hermokrates, may your strides be swift. [Keeps her eyes upon his manner as she introduces herself, as it has come to her attention that those who have wretched hold of my order have not praised me as highly as once they did.] I am Clymestria Atticus, I follow the path Athena puts before me, as my wisdom allows. Of late, I have been away from a temple for quite a bit longer than planed. I must complete my task with this merchant as is our contract, but after that I would be much honored if you would receive me. Who is your master, so I know upon whom to call? [with a gentle smile] And who is your friend? Fleet feet, lead to quick tongues it seems. I kid, but tell of things here and things upon Olympus, how do the games looks? What of Agamemnon's murder? I heard of it upon the planes but with little detail, please messenger. [Clym takes a deep breath, filling her lungs to their capacity, and is about to let loose a second string of questions at hastespell speed when...]
Tarsheva: Ah, hem. We've still to get these to the drop. You can wag your tongue with the young priests later.
Clymenstria: Yes, as I said I will find you. In the Temple District I would presume.
Snatch: IT APPEARS WE HAVE MUCH TO DO HERE IN THIS CITY THAT ONE MIGHT NOT HAVE EXPECTED. I AM BEGINNING TO FEEL AN UNDERSTANDING OF THIS PLACE, AND YET I KNOW THERE IS NOT SUCH THING AS UNDERSTANDING OF THIS PLACE IN COMPLETENESS. TARSHEVA, LET US DELAY YOU NO MORE. ONWARD! THROUGH THE FOG!
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