View source for Mean and Green, part 1

So the world has been saved! Or so the rumours would have you believe, anyways. Some hot-shot heroes have apparently put an end to some big, nasty villains while simultaneously curing the world of the plague. Truth, great public relations, or a combination of both? Who can say. But, as usual, while they were happy to be involved in the epic part of the tale, they have left it to others to clean up the mess. But hey, it's a living.

The current task has had you directed to a small warehouse in, you guessed it, the warehouse district. There is very little to distinguish it from the others, aside from a hastily painted '#8' on the side. Which happens to be the description you were given by the Adventuring Guild's representative handling this particular contract. The door is wide open as well, and inside a pair of humans seem to be arguing.

Strike spent a few coppers to buy a throwaway outfit just for this sort of occasion. Maybe there won't be otyhugs this time, she tells herself, but work is work. The half-mul spends a moment outside the doorway to assess what's going on inside before she raps a knuckled on the doorframe, "You sent for help?" she wonders, arching a brow.

Asmli has fallen into a lake of fire, and pissed off an undead lord of Charn so far in his short adventuring career. He's still living, and with a little help from artifice, he's even still in one piece! Nobody tell him that he walks with a noticeable limp, though.

It's just two humans arguing, right? Nothing new there, and certainly nothing to be afraid of! The armored khazad ambles into the appointed warehouse, obvious as you please and as amiable as khazad ever are. "What's all this about now?" he asks, loudly enough to be plainly heard.

Cleanup may not be the most glamorous job in the world, but if one wants to pay the sausages-inna-bun vendor, one must have coin. And Donna, being a fan of street-food of all stripes, is privately glad to have the work. Doubly glad, that it's not another bedamned sewer job.

The fingers of her gauntlets creak as she flexes her fingers, rolling her head on her neck before approaching the arguing folk in front of the warehouse, right behind the Khazad. "Someone post for Guild work?"

Victor was happy to hear the plague was cured. He's reasonably certain that he was infected by the plague, multiple times, and was subjected to all manner of attempted cures (although for the latter he was more than willing). He trudges up to the warehouse and then steps inside, trying to listen and determine the source of the argument.

The half-mul steps into the building more fully, considering the tall man before the more rotund other comes his way with an extended hand. She meets his eyes and clasps hands, "Hello." With Asmli's commentary, she turns and affords him a little smile, some relief at seeing him up and about, "Hello, you're looking well." She considers the others as they come in, but isn't sure what to say but, "hello."

The argument is apparently not so heated or involved as to make either of the humans miss the arrival of your group. The taller one pushes his spectacles into place as he looks upon the group. His expression seems one of mild annoyance, and he even huffs a bit as he turns back away from you tell his companion, "This is your department." Then he turns completely away, fiddling with a small, box-like contraption.

The smaller human, who could best be described as 'round', looks exasperated... but it seems to be directed at the tall one. "Fah. Fengler! We need to work on your people skills." Then he turns a beaming smile upon you, striding forward with the clear intent to shake hands, starting with Strike whose hand gets shaken heartily indeed. "Greetings! And thank you! My name is Cray, and this is my partner Fengler. And boy do we live in interesting times, right? So exciting! Tell me. What do you know of..." His voice drops to a near whisper here. "Alternate planes of existence?"

"...If this is another 'I'm too lazy to fetch my own shit when it's dropped between the planar sofa cushions' job," Donna says, dropping her voice to match the almost-whisper, "I'm leaving." Clearly, she has some experiences on the other side of a portal.

"Why are we whispering, anyway?"

The khazad swears sulfurously in his native tongue at the mention of alternate planes of existence. He's plainly had such experiences as well, but does indeed shake hands in turn - and even remembers to take off the gauntlet first. "Enough to know I'm not taking it unless we have a way back," he scowls, nodding to Donna. "Where are we going this time? Yer the only one whispering," he adds to Donna.

"Alternate Planes?" Victor repeats. "I know much of the theory, although I haven't actually visited any personally. I have encountered beings from other planes, but in a city of this size and diversity even experiences such as those are not uncommon..."

"They're hot." Strike says simply, as the man poses his query, followed by, "I'm Strike." She eases back to allow the others to be handshaken in their turns as they would and looks at the tall man as she idly craves a pastry. A big one. She looks to the others in turns as they speak and nod, "Most of us have been to the fire plane."

"For dramatic effect!" Cray announces with far too much exuberance as answer to Donna, at least as far as his partner is concerned for the tall man snorts at that, loudly. Then Cray grins broadly, looking positively cherubic. "Ah yes, I'd forgotten that you types get to see things us regular folk only dream of." He turns about, grabbing the box from Fengler's hands. "Hey! Be careful with that, you'll throw off the calibrations!" Fengler's admonishment seems to fall upon deaf ears however, as Cray shows it to you. He appears to be quite proud of it as well, though it is hardly anything to look at. It's a box. With what appears to be a ruby coloured lense in the center, though nothing can be seen through it. There is also a switch on the side.

"Oh, nono, we don't want you to travel to another plane. That would be insane! Most of them aren't even habitable! No, you won't have to travel very far. Just in the city." He pauses. "Well, under the city to be exacty." So sorry, Donna. "Our calculations have led us to believe that the barrier between planes was weakened in the sewers by all of that CRAZY stuff happening recently. There's a spot in particular we'd like you to.. well.. take this." He hands the box to Victor. "This device is able to.. ah.. get an imprint from planar energies, and we think that some are leaking into our plane. We just need you to go to the spot on this map," which he produces, pulling a badly folded length of paper from his back pocket, "Set it down there for about.. oh.. I dunno.. an hour?" Fengler speaks up. "Better make that two." Cray nods. "Two hours. Then bring it back! Easy!"

And just like that, something breaks in Donna's soul. You can just see it on her face, surliness flipping instantly into resigned despair. "...It's a sewer job," she says flatly, reaching up with a gauntlet covered in old, indelible bloodstains, to pinch the bridge of her nose. "It's a sewer job, an' we gotta stay there for an hour or two. ...Guessin' the Guild made you put up hazard scale?"

Shaking her head, she looses a long, gusty sigh. "Okay, I'll bite; how fragile is that thing, an' how noisy is it?"

Victor accepts the box carefully. He peers at it, doing his best to keep it at the same exact angle and height it was when received. "Understood." He looks at Donna. "The sewers," he nods gravely. "Come close to meeting the qualifications of an alternate plane of existence as it is." But a job is a job.

"The sewers?" Asmli relaxes, more than a little. He doesn't know anything about something weird going on under there, but underground is a thing he can do. "Sounds easy enough. How likely is something to come along and eat it?"

And there it is. The magic word. 'Easy'.

Strike shakes her head a moment, dispersing visions of fluffy golden spongecake and cream, and she wonders, "I suppose we should make sure we can all see down there. She looks to Donna on her outburst and tries to cheer her up with, "I doubt we will need to worry about otyughs hugging us... unless that is still a thing." Yes, she's an OG. There's a brief, almost yeaarning look in her eye as she regards the golem, but she looks away and shrugs to herself, "Probably very."

Bannon rounds the corner on the door to the warehouse, his hand, which had formerly been shielding his eyes from the light, now drops to his side. His facial expression intimates that he's becoming more comfortable with the less light, and with a bleary grunt, he announces his presence, "Adventurer's Guild said you needed a warm body. They sent me instead."

"Wellllllllllllll..." Cray starts to hedge a bit. "I mean, I understand that all of that crazy ooze business chased most of the old inhabitants out of the sewers. Maybe nothing's come back yet! But yes, the guild did require us to add in some hazard pay." Yes, the round fellow definitely has more than his fair share of optimism. Or naivete. "Oh, the planar energy recorder is completely silent, don't worry." Fengler clears his throat at that. "Actually, I theorize that once it starts absorbing planar energy, it will in fact begin to emit a sound detectable by dogs. And elves. And I wouldn't shake it around if I were you. I wouldn't call its contents volatile, exactly," he explains. "But it was very expensive to make. We do expect you to remain with it while it does its work." Cray rolls his eyes at that. "Eh, I built it sturdy enough that even Petra should be able to handle it. Oh good! You have reinforcements!" he says upon Bannon's arrival. "Not that I expect you'll need them.. but less risk of getting bored while you're down there, right? Oh, the map!" This he hands to Donna. "Good luck!"

 GAME: Donna rolls survival: (18)+6: 24
 GAME: Bannon rolls Profession/Airman: (8)+6: 14
 GAME: Victor rolls knowledge/geography: (15)+9: 24
 GAME: Asmli rolls knowledge/dungeoneering: (12)+7: 19
 GAME: Victor rolls knowledge/dungeoneering: (13)+9: 22
 GAME: Victor attempts to cast Mage Armor but fails due to ASF.
 GAME: Bannon rolls Perception: (6)+15: 21
 GAME: Donna rolls perception: (19)+10: 29
 GAME: Strike rolls perception: (11)+13: 24
 GAME: Asmli rolls perception: (8)+4: 12
 GAME: Victor rolls perception: (11)+7: 18

The nearest point of entry to the sewers is, in fact, an outflow pipe discharging directly into the Tornmawr. Thankfully, it is not the closest entry point to your desired location. That, it turns out, is a small structure disguised as a single story dwelling but is in fact a gatehouse of sorts. With the surplus of 'missions' to the sewers the house is temporarily manned by a surly looking khazad-aul. She looks the lot of you over, seems to narrow her eyes a bit further upon seeing Asmli, then pulls down a clipboard. "Party?" she asks, apparently a believer in efficient conversation. Behind her is an iron gate, locked, and stairs leading down into the darkness. A large key rests upon a chain around her neck.

"Guild job," Donna answers, evidently very comfortable with this particular conversational gambit. Surly appreciates surly, after all, though not where anyone could see. "Down for a couple hours."

Bannon shakes his head, "No, madam. We're here for work, not to party." He then gestures towards the others, "They can explain further." He glances quickly towards the others momentarily and then adds with a shake of his head and a grin, "I'm still working on shaking off yesterday, but I'm sure the smell'll help."

"Analytical." Strike amends, keeping it short as well as she considers the Khazad. She slips an everburning torch, unlit, into her belt and awaits the go ahead, or the go through, as the case may be. She glances at the comedian with a soft, "Droll."

Asmli returns the narrowed eyed look that he gets, and there's no way beneath the gorget of his armor that he swallowed. No, no possible way. "What she said."

Victor hesitates. Explain further? He quickly thinks over possible things to say. Describe the device? Compare theories on the plague? Describe the elemental planes and the purpose of the device they carry? After a quick inspection of the Khazad he seems to decide instead to keep it simple. "It's all been arranged."

"Aah. Funny." Despite the statement, the short and stocky woman doesn't sound amused. She squints at her clipboard. "You must be the 'Funny Vibrations' job." She puts a mark beside an entry on her board, then turns around and uses the key to unlock the gate and permit entry. "If you leave by another exit, make sure you come back here and let me know. We're trying to keep track of everyone who goes down there... you're the third group today."

Bannon tsks, tossing a reply that is almost suggestive in turn, a light grin tugging at his lips, "Never." He looks back towards the guardswoman, his eyebrows shooting, "Funny vibrations?" He then grins after a moment, "Why not. I can think of far worse ways to spend time." He then tilts his head, asking curiously, "Any word on what they're going down there for?"

That gives Asmli pause, and thick blonde eyebrows lift. "Lot of work going on down there." He considers it for a moment, shrugs, and nods. "As long as they aren't in our way."

Victor gives the guard a small nod of understanding. He walks through the gate and waits for the others, knowing better than to get too far ahead. He still holds the box, although now he has it balanced on the fingers of one hand with elbow crooked as if carrying a dinner plate. He does his best to keep his gait smooth and constant.

".....Funny," Donna echoes, somehow managing to sound yet more sour than the Khazadi. "Welp... Let's get this done." And with that, she slips through the open gate, nodding to the Khazadi as she passes by.

Strike looks to the others, then, "How many returned?" Because it's good to know the spread when you're doing a guild mission.

"'Awful Excavation' and 'Top Secret' according to my list," the khazad woman tells Bannon and Strike. "Neither has come back yet. If you need to know more, I'm sure I can send word to my captain so she can come down and personally give you the details." She sounds so helpful, doesn't she? And yet.. her expression. "Oh, and if you do run into one of them, try to keep it civil? I don't need the paperwork."

The transition from above ground to underneath is as sudden as it is obvious. Thanks to the stairwell's entry being sheltered by the gatehouse, the outside light doesn't travel far and you've soon outpaced it, relying on your torches to make your way deeper into the city's underground. Calling it the sewers might be a bit of a misnomer. While it certainly is supposed to serve that function, though recent events have proven to be a little bit of hiccup in that regard, access tunnels seem to be a little more common. Occasionally you are forced to walk beside or even cross slowly moving 'water', but more often the tunnels you walk are dry. Having had a chance to make sense of the map outside, between your combined knowledge of maps, tunnels and ability to correlate landmarks on the map with the real deal under your feet, you are relatively confident that you should reach the the big X on the map relatively quickly. Relative, of course, because it's still a lot of ground to cover... Alexandria is a big city. But every opportunity you have to orient yourself with the map, it seems likely that you haven't made any wrong turns anywhere.

Once down in the sewers, Asmli releases the harness from his back and drops the urgrosh on his back into his hands. He takes the time to stash the harness into his pack, and carries the weapon instead in both hands. He seems disinclined to take the word of the speakers that things are silent down here.

And it's not far into the expedition, that Donna holds up a hand, glaring ahead and behind them. "...Hear somethin'," she says, at a level that shouldn't carry too much farther than the rest of her companions. "Don't know where it's comin' from, but... We definitely ain't alone."

As he descends into the sewers, Bannon reaches down to his belt and cracks a sunrod, the glow beginning to light the area around him. He transfers the object into his left hand, which frees his right hand up to draw a sword if needs be. He takes a moment, looking around perplexed as he comments, "The smell is very sobering." He then looks towards Donna, tilting his head and looking off into the ether. After a moment, Bannon nods quickly, his voice sounds quite serious now, "I hear it, too. Can't make it out exactly."

Victor turns his head this way and that, glancing in different directions. His gaze runs across a few of the party members, then he does a quick survey of the box still held up in his hand. Without a word he takes a step until he's somewhat in the middle of the party. Then he directs his gaze down, straining his other senses in an attempt to pick up the sounds.

Strike seems to be completely zen about the whole affair, even investigating the sewers which have, admittedly, undergone some renovation since the last time she walked among them. With Donna's observation, she cocks her head a little bit, "I hear it, too." she says quietly and she crosses her arms for a moment, pulling shuriken from the bracer on one hand, Just in case.

 GAME: Bannon rolls Perception+2: (4)+15+2: 21
 GAME: Strike rolls perception+2: (18)+13+2: 33
 GAME: Victor rolls perception+4: (2)+7+4: 13
 GAME: Donna rolls perception+2: (7)+10+2: 19
 GAME: Asmli rolls perception+4: (1)+4+4: 9 (EPIC FAIL)

Asmli stumps along cheerfully. If he's heard anything, he gives no sign.

The dusky woman cants her head the other way and holds up her empty hand, "Voices..." she whispers, posture shifting as she expects mischief to occur, "More than one" And she nods her head toward another path, "That way."

Bannon turns his head, lifting the sunrod in the same hand as wears his buckler, "I hear them too." He then looks around, "Do we want to go see what they're doing? We'll be going off the trail we mapped out up top. We could get lost in here for days. Weeks even." He then frowns, shaking his head, "Our only companions being each other and the Otyughs..."

Victor turns his head slowly towards Bannon, but stops before he's staring directly at the man. After a moment's consideration, he looks away without comment. Instead he peers back in the direction Strike indicated. "I concur...with not leaving our original route, that is. They can't be looking for us, surely no one knows about our mission other than those who sent us."

"Oh good, I found you guys." A golden-haired sorceress with a clothespin on her nose steps out of a side passage, holding a sunrod in one hand and a crinkled up map drawn, apparently, on a napkin in the other. "Sorry, Donna," she adds, "That... hold up with the guard took way longer than it should have. I'm positive Norrington put him up to it, he wanted to ask all the questions. Seriously, all of them." She shrugs, and stuffs the map up one of her sleeves as she smiles at everyone, and falls into step beside her sister. 

"Say," she adds, "Did you all have to deal with a dwarf guardswoman at the gate, before coming down here? I tell you, what a sourpuss. She was almost worse than the other guy I had to foist off today. I thought she was gonna demand to rifle through my backpack and pouches and corset and everything."

"It's a very nice corset." Strike replies blandly as she recognizes the sorceress as she makes her arrival. She cranes her neck again, wondering if that didn't jsut give them away to whoever else was in the tunnels, and she fans the shuriken in her hand. She doesn't remark on the otyhugs, but, "I say we proceed on guard." she says softly.

Bannon points to Delilah, his eyes narrowing, "I knew I wasn't the only one to think that about the guardswoman. It's like she was assigned to a sewer or something." He then looks, peering towards the voices, "I think we should check it out. I mean..." He looks around, shrugging his shoulders, "What can it hurt, right?"

Victor looks at Bannon again, a bit surprised at the reversal from 'stranded with only the Otyughs for company'. "...let us proceed, on our guard...on our original mission?" He looks back and forth between the others, hoping they're actually on the same page.

So keyed up is Donna, that the sound of her sister's apologies actually causes the brawler to jump, fists raised as she whips around. Seeing only Delilah, however, and not whatever hellish abomination her imagination was planning on dealing with, she lets out a long, harsh sigh. "...Hey, D," she says, waving for silence. "Keep it down, though. Been hearin' voices up ahead... maybe behind? An' we oughta get to our job before we get distracted."