[IC] New Crobuzon & the World Beyond

[Forge]

His head and eyes dart around the scene as the interplay between the ambassador from Hell unfolds but Forge's momentary mania seems to be under control.  "This one was buried underground for an unknown time."  Forge replies calmly, as if that explained it all.  "Warforged were made for war, but my kind is much more than machine."   When the man known as Vansetty calls out the time.  Forge looks to the others not knowing what to do.  He did not have any legal knowledge besides rules and regulations instilled in him during training.

[Ningalu Baal'urki]

"Me born in cave... we live in mines, sometimes hunt in caves downriver, mostly fish. Me sometimes watch cave entrance, even hunt on surface, at night when big folk not see... fish in big river.. bad Unreth came.. he eat us, but me learn his magic. Me learn to hide and fight."

[GM Marvel]

"Me born in cave... we live in mines, sometimes hunt in caves downriver, mostly fish. Me sometimes watch cave entrance, even hunt on surface, at night when big folk not see... fish in big river.. bad Unreth came.. he eat us, but me learn his magic. Me learn to hide and fight."

"This Unreth sounds fascinating, any chance I can meet him?  Even in abdeath?" the ambassador asks.

[OoC: Betimi knows "abdeath" means Abnormal Death.  It's equivalent to most world's undeath.  Abdead would mean undead. ]

Once Ningalu talks about his home, Tomeal will jump in and quickly tell the daemon some information about Cantus.  With so little time left he doesn't dare try to obfuscate any facts that the ambassador might want.  

Finally the Magistrate states firmly, "Ambassador, I believe these people have fulfilled their part of the bargain.   Now I must ask for your decision."   

"Leaving so soon," the ambassador states with disappointment.  "I had hoped we could learn so much from one another.  But if you must..."  He draws out a long black quill pen from one of his inner pockets and casually dips the tip into an ink well on his desk.  A single red drop drips from the tip and then he signs a scroll that just appears in front of him.  Suddenly all of you feel an intense burning sensation on the palms of your hands.  While grinding your teeth against the pain, you gaze down at your hand and see deep cuts gouging into your skin.  The blood fills the etching in your flesh where it suddenly bursts into flame.  After a few moments of agony you can finally see that a symbol is actually being gouged then fire-branded into your flesh.  The whole process takes about a minute but it felt like ten times that length of time.  The scroll suddenly vanishes from the desk and appears in the Magistrate's hands.

Vansetty whisper now becomes cry.  "We have one minute and 25 seconds left!"

"If you are finished, Magistrate," the ambassador says smoothly, "I have work to do."

The Magistrate waites until the miserable, pitiless resonance of work to do to do to do had died down .  The echo makes your stomachs pitch.

"Oh, yes, yes, ambassador," he replies. "We'll speak again soon, I hope."

The ambassador inclines his head in a polite nod, then pulled out a stack of papers from a drawer in his desk.  He licks the tip of the pen and begins marking papers.

Behind you all, Vansetty twiddles at nobs and depresses various buttons, and the wooden floor begins to tremble as if in some earthquake.  A hum builds up around you all, wobbling you in your little energy field.  The foul air vibrates up and down your bodies.  Suddenly the ambassador bulges and splits and disappeared in an instant, like a heliotype in a fire.  The moiling carmine light bubbles and evaporates, as if it seeped out through a thousand cracks in the dusty office walls.  The darkness of the room closes in around you like a trap.  Vansetty's tiny candle gutters and then goes out.

The Magistrate peeks out the door to check that they are unobserved, then all of you stumble from the room.  The air feels deliciously chill.  You spend a minute wiping the sweat from your faces and rearranging your clothes that had been buffeted by winds from other planes.

You notice the scroll the Magistrate held seems to be made of some kind of leather (A knowledge Religion or Planes of 15 will reveal it to be human skin.)  Now that you were in proper light you all inspect the marking on your palms.  You see this symbol...

[Kee]

ooc- Know religion [1d20+6] = 14+6 = 20 vs. leather

If they will be alone then Kee shares his findings with the others.

[Forge]

Forge is grateful to be out of that dark room.  Looking at the new mark on his hand he is reminded of the ghulra on his forehead.  It must mean something.

Ghulra

[Selina Parcellus]

"Me born in cave... we live in mines, sometimes hunt in caves downriver, mostly fish. Me sometimes watch cave entrance, even hunt on surface, at night when big folk not see... fish in big river.. bad Unreth came.. he eat us, but me learn his magic. Me learn to hide and fight."

"This Unreth sounds fascinating, any chance I can meet him?  Even in abdeath?" the ambassador asks.

[OoC: Betimi knows "abdeath" means Abnormal Death.  It's equivalent to most world's undeath.  Abdead would mean undead. ]

Once Ningalu talks about his home, Tomeal will jump in and quickly tell the daemon some information about Cantus.  With so little time left he doesn't dare try to obfuscate any facts that the ambassador might want.  

Finally the Magistrate states firmly, "Ambassador, I believe these people have fulfilled their part of the bargain.   Now I must ask for your decision."   

"Leaving so soon," the ambassador states with disappointment.  "I had hoped we could learn so much from one another.  But if you must..."  He draws out a long black quill pen from one of his inner pockets and casually dips the tip into an ink well on his desk.  A single red drop drips from the tip and then he signs a scroll that just appears in front of him.  Suddenly all of you feel an intense burning sensation on the palms of your hands.  While grinding your teeth against the pain, you gaze down at your hand and see deep cuts gouging into your skin.  The blood fills the etching in your flesh where it suddenly bursts into flame.  After a few moments of agony you can finally see that a symbol is actually being gouged then fire-branded into your flesh.  The whole process takes about a minute but it felt like ten times that length of time.  The scroll suddenly vanishes from the desk and appears in the Magistrate's hands.

Vansetty whisper now becomes cry.  "We have one minute and 25 seconds left!"

"If you are finished, Magistrate," the ambassador says smoothly, "I have work to do."

The Magistrate waites until the miserable, pitiless resonance of work to do to do to do had died down .  The echo makes your stomachs pitch.

"Oh, yes, yes, ambassador," he replies. "We'll speak again soon, I hope."

The ambassador inclines his head in a polite nod, then pulled out a stack of papers from a drawer in his desk.  He licks the tip of the pen and begins marking papers.

Behind you all, Vansetty twiddles at nobs and depresses various buttons, and the wooden floor begins to tremble as if in some earthquake.  A hum builds up around you all, wobbling you in your little energy field.  The foul air vibrates up and down your bodies.  Suddenly the ambassador bulges and splits and disappeared in an instant, like a heliotype in a fire.  The moiling carmine light bubbles and evaporates, as if it seeped out through a thousand cracks in the dusty office walls.  The darkness of the room closes in around you like a trap.  Vansetty's tiny candle gutters and then goes out.

The Magistrate peeks out the door to check that they are unobserved, then all of you stumble from the room.  The air feels deliciously chill.  You spend a minute wiping the sweat from your faces and rearranging your clothes that had been buffeted by winds from other planes.

You notice the scroll the Magistrate held seems to be made of some kind of leather (A knowledge Religion or Planes of 15 will reveal it to be human skin.)  Now that you were in proper light you all inspect the marking on your palms.  You see this symbol...

Selina hisses as the 'Ambassador' mentions Unreth and flexes and releases her gauntleted hands several times.  If she had anything to say about it, that...abomination would be destroyed and its ashes burned further just to be certain.  She grits her teeth at the pain, holding her hand and pulling the gauntlet off to look at her hand in the dim light.  Her eyes widen as she notes that there is something etched into her scaly palm, dripping warm blood.  She cannot yet see what it is, due to the light level, but knows this cannot portend anything good.  It is only in brighter light that she sees the symbol and glowers menacingly at the Magistrate.

"I was told that there would be no pacts involving souls.  What, exactly, is This?!"

Sense Motive: [1d20+4] = 14+4 = 18

[Betimi]

[OoC Know: planes [1d20+6] = 13+6 = 19,    Know: Arcana [1d20+5] = 2+5 = 7]

Betimi instantly recognizes the human skin, but she has never seen a symbol like the one on her palm.

[GM Marvel]

[OoC: Betimi can't learn what the symbol means with Knowledge Arcane.  She (or someone else) would need to use Knowledge Planes.  Though due to the nature of the symbol I will grant Betimi a +2 insight bonus to her roll.]

It might be surprising to some but the mark even appeared on the Warforge's hand though it looks more like scratches on the metal than scarification on flesh.

When Selina confronts the Magistrate he holds up a hand in an attempt to calm you and replies, "No such pacts were made.  That is the ambassadors personal symbol.  If you meet any militia who are still looking to arrest you for being outworlder terrorists then you simply need to flash them this symbol and they will immediately release you.  The ambassador cannot force such a pact upon you without you agreeing to the terms willingly or through some sort of trickery.  All you agreed to was to give him information, nothing more."  

[Selina Parcellus]

Selina sighs and clenches her fist for a moment, resigning herself to her fate as she slips the glove and gauntlet back on that hand.  "Where are our supplies and weapons?"

[Nacesh]

When all the nerves revert to smoothness after this unnerving scene Nacesh takes a moment to quietly address the Magistrate,

"I may have been distracted for a moment but I failed to get what was the business for you in this scene? You used up some favour, as I take it, for our benefit, so I assume it's just right to assume that we are now indebted to you. Right?"

((OOC - or did I get it completely wrong, and the magistrate has already told us what he expects from us as a return of favour?))