Chapter 3: Secrets

21st Day of Toil, 997 V.R.

You have the evening to return to your homes and get some rest. Through the night the city seems tense and quiet. Given the history of infernal invasions, people are not sure what to expect after the earthquake. But, the night passes uneventfully. You awake on the 21st to a soaking wet morning as rain storm from the sea rolls over Iskandar.

In your adventures yesterday, you discovered you weren't the only people interested in Bartoz's warehouse. You interrupted a group of intruders lead by a half-elf that had already begun raiding the premises when you discovered them. Although they escaped you, seemingly vanishing into thin air through a doorway, you found the following message on one of their dead:

Meet under the bridge on Beacon Lane on the 21st Day of Toil at the cursed sun's zenith. Significant progress expected as our patience grows thin.

-- The Tribunal

Nobody was quite sure about the Tribunal, only Laurent had heard rumours of their existence. However, you have a meeting location and a jump on the time and it seemed like a potential lead to discover more about the Seal of Astaraoth. So, the trio agreed to meet in the morning to follow up on this lead.

In the morning, you make your way through the rain-slicked cobblestone streets to the Harborside district to rendezvous at Beacon Street. On the way, a soaking wet human child thrusts a soaking-wet broadsheet into your hands and demands a copper zlot for his trouble. Although the ink is starting to run, you can see the headline declares "LORD BARTOZ PLEDGES TO REBUILD ISKANDAR."

Shortly after you arrive at the bridge mentioned in the note. It is an old stone bridge with ornately carved dragons, the symbol of the old Vendian empire. It spans a square channel about 10 feet deep and across, filled with approximately 2 feet of rancid water and refuse that hasn't washed out to the Otyugh pits yet. There is no obvious door below, but the bridge is fifteen feet wide and it is hard to see directly underneath.

It is early in the morning, but there is light traffic on the bridge as dock workers dressed in rain slicks head off to work and experienced porters cart wagons of wares across the bridge as a shortcut to bypass busier lanes.

Berry pulls his hood tighter over his head, not liking to get his hair wet.

Looking at the bridge and the filth below, he flicks the water dripping off his nose, "Are you sure this is the place?" he mutters to the others.

Tilma presses a copper coin in the kid's palm, gives him a smile and reads the paper (what she can) out loud while they walk. She stops only when they reach the destination.

She shivers in the rain and looks at Berry who in this rain reminds her of a goblin. "I don't know. Laurent is the brains of this here operation." she looks at the mage and then turns back to her friend, "Hey, Berry. Have you ever seen a wet goblin?"

Berry is not sure he understands the question and is no mood for jokes. Letting out a little snort, he pulls the hood up tighter and carefully makes his way to investigate the underside of the bridge.

Berry climbs passed the bridge rail and dangles over to see the underside. A few passerbys give him an odd look, but nobody stops to question him. From this vantage point, he is able to see a rotting wooden door cut into the walls of the stone channel. Perched above the door and protruding from the foundations of the overhead bridge there is a stone gargoyle, still as a statue. Otherwise, the underside of the bridge is clear of dangers.

"I had pictured this differently," the young scholar stated — partially in response to Tilma's comment — as he observed the place under these rather inauspicious weather conditions.

"Let's try to be discrete while we look around." And Laurent proceeded to do just that, trying to take in the area and figure out possibilities.

Tilma sits down on the wet road, sets down her backpack and takes out a pair of good old boots for pacing the sewers. She takes off her current boots which she neatly stores away in her backpack and puts on the long work boots. "I'm ready" she says to the other two. Being used to the sewers this rancid water doesn't bother her at all. She walks down, into the water and heads for the door.
All the while she looks around for anything unusual and once the door is reached she investigates it and the gargoyle closer to see if they are locked or dangerous. Perhaps trapped?

Tilma splashes down into the channel. The door seems unlocked and there are no sign of traps. The gargoyle looms overhead and is in good shape, except it only has one eye. The other has been chipped off. It seems like a statue as far as you can tell.

"No danger here guys! Well, none, as far as I can see." she shouts out to her companions while still leisurely looking around.

Berry slips off and trots along with the traffic to the other end of the bridge and tries to ascertain a building that this door might back onto,

The door leads under the road itself. Sewers, maybe? But then an iron grate would make more sense than a door. It was definitely a peculiar door, but that seemed to match with the mysterious nature of The Tribunal who set this meeting up.

Watching his companions from atop the bridge, the young scholar seemed at a bit of a loss. He examined the neighboring buildings with intent, but found nothing that might set his nerves at ease. No easy vantage point. It made sense, if what he could recall about The Tribunal was accurate: these were professionals, expert agents and their machiavellian patrons. They wouldn't set up a meeting in a spot that would be easy to spy on, or interfere with. His original plan having crumbled into nothingness at first contact with the metaphorical battlefield, his mind rushed trying to design other stratagems, to no avail.

"We have some time yet," he stated somewhat timidly. "Should we risk the doorway?" he asked Berry, the one of his companions currently within earshot. "It might lead us straight into contact with those black cloaks, or worse. I'd prefer discretion and avoidance, but..." and he let the ellipsis bear the brunt of the reasoning.

Allowing his face to go beyond the bridge's edge, he called out to his elven companion, "Any thoughts, Tilma?"

"Wait a second!" she calls back. She searches quickly though her backpack. She takes out the sewers map. It is old and a bit outdated, but it's not like this place is new. Or at least it doesn't seem new. She puts the map against the wall and tries to find if this entrance leads to somewhere in the sewer tunnels.

The sewer maps have no indications of any branches or connections near this bridge. At best, it looks like it might be a maintenance locker for canal dredgers to store their tools for when they need to clear a blockage.

Moving to a position where he hoped he could be heard by both his companions without any eavesdroppers nearby.

"I see two ways forward. We go in now, explore the place, risking running into opposition. Or we find a vantage point and wait until the designated hour. If the black cloaks show up at the appointed time, we don't get involved, unless we want to risk a tussle. If they don't show up, then we can either go and meet the Tribunal or, if we're not feeling up to it, we wait and see if they come through the canal."

After a moment of silence, he scratched his head, slightly ashamed. "Yeah, well, that's more like four or five options really...", and delving deeper into his own confusion, he added "If no one is in there, right now, we might at least look around, locate any concealed passages. If we do find something, we might be able to leave a message to the Tribunal, without risking direct exposure. you know," ans his eyes glazed over as he considered what he'd write for a moment.

"Something like 'Found your note on the dead body of your agent. Killed by Bartoz's goons in their warehouse. Your other men left when we showed up. If you want to talk, send a man with a red hat with peacock feathers to the fish market at dawn'. We can then send messages from a distance, on our terms."

"Sounds fine to me. I don't think that thus door is dangerous and in any case it isn't sewers. I'll go in." with those words Tilma puts away the map, steadies her backpack, readies her crossbow and opens the door. She instantly back steps and raises her crossbow just in case.

"Laurent. Why don’t you stay out here and keep watch, I’ll head in with Tilma. If we’re not out in half an hour, come find us, or call the law, or …you’ll figure it out."

Tilma swings the door wide, revealing nothing more than an recessed tool shed.

After a moment, an image begins to coalesce in the doorframe. It depicts a ruined keep of some kind, strewn with rubble and lit by sunlight streaming through large holes in the ceiling. As it solidifies, you realize it is more than an image; you smell the fresh, salty seabreeze as it blows through the portal, and you watch as roosting crows peck at one another in the rafters, fighting for territory. There is no sign of habitation, and it does not look familiar any of you.

You are reminded of the way the half-elf disappeared from Bartoz's warehouse yesterday; him and his men disappeared through a seemingly random doorframe. You are certain this is a portal to some abandoned ruin.

Based on this assumption, you step through the doorway and end up on the dry stone floor of the ruin, the portal bridging to a door frame within the ruin. The portal seems stable and remains open even after you cross over.

Tilma sticks her head back out of the portal while the bulk of her body remains inside. "Hey guys! You have to check this out. It seems like some kind of portal to some kind of ruin. And judging by the smell its near the sea." she calls out to the other two. And then not waiting for the reply she's back inside, looking around for possible danger and also simply sightseeing. She stays near the entrance though and has her crossbow ready.

You enter the portal and begin a systematic sweep of the place. You move carefully and quietly, but before long you find that it's just you, the ravens, and a strong the wind in this ruin.

After a bit of exploration, you find a the south wall of this old place has been mostly obliterated. Looking out from the ruin you see you are far above the city and just north of it. You surmise you must be on the Isle of Wine; a tall, rocky island that overlooks the city from the sea just a few hundred meters to the north.Laurent recalls that the island was once part of Iskandar's harbor defenses, but fiends destroyed the outpost built on its top during the infernal siege twenty years ago. Look around, you can see how this area might have been a garrison of sorts, or a watchtower. You find what must have been bedchambers and privies (probably officer quarters) as well as larger open areas (muster halls or a mess perhaps). The rooms contain a few relics from its military past - a chair here, a desk there, a shattered mirror. But for the most part, it resembles more of a construction site than a military fort. There are crates of unopened building supplies and some partially-erected scaffolds, but for whatever reason, it is obvious that reconstruction never went past the initial stages.

Very curiously, when Berry pass by the shattered mirror he notices that he has casts no reflection. Both Tilma and Laurent cast reflections in it as normal.

Standing at the edge facing the city, you can't help but survey the destruction caused by the earthquake. From this vantage point, you see a strange but unmistakable pattern of destruction that follows certain lines. These fault lines clearly form a pentagram:

Tilma stands on the edge of the fortress gazing upon the cityscape. The destruction that was caused by their meddling with the gate can clearly be seen. The doubt sneaks into her mind once again as she follows the lines of chaos. But when she realizes that they form a pentagram the thought vanishes. This is too big to be simply their doing.
"Berry! Call Laurent! He has to see this! There is a pentagram of destruction covering the city. Perhaps the points indicate the location of other seals? And the middle is the actual gate?" as if seeing the mark was a key, her interest in arcane, that had previously led her to learn necromancy, is waking.

Berry brings Laurent to where Tilma is standing and looks out at what she is indicating. Using his knowledge of the city, he tries to figure where the points are located and any historical significance.

"This is fascinating", Laurent said, flabbergasted as he observed the Iskandarian skyline from this improbable vantage point. He had been wearing his This-Is-Fascinating expression ever since first looking at the doorway under the bridge. But this was indeed a breath-taking vista.

"You're right, this pattern holds much significance," he stated with undisguised excitement. "We should certainly take note of the fault lines, and explore your hypothesis, Tilma. It might be that the center is an access point, or it might be that multiple access points exist, as with a web, with multiple strands connecting to a tightly knit core." As he conjectured, his hands spun patterns that replicated what his mind envisioned.

After a few moments of this, however, he calmed down and a subtle dread began creeping up his spine. The Tribunal would soon be here. They still hadn't figured out a way to communicate without being seen, perhaps there was none. "Say, you two think there's any spot we can hide here, while keeping an eye on whoever else this way comes?"

A couple of heartbeats later, his expression turned to one of concern. "Do we even know if we can get back the way we came?"

The portal is still there, presumably to give the black-cloaks access to this place. Whether it will remain for the duration of the meeting is anyone's guess. Will this mysterious Tribunal be using that portal as well? Or will they be arriving via a different route? Or are they already here, observing you from the shadows?

Looking at the city layout, the vertices of the pentagram's points do not seem to point to obvious locations. Most of them are at the city's edge, each one in a different district and near the city's walls. Interestingly, you note that not one point of the star is inside of the Templegate district. As for what's at each point, you recall that the vertex in Harbourside was a nondescript warehouse, so you reason that the buildings currently erected at these sites may not be anything in particular. Of course, the city looks very different now than in Astaroth's time.

The pentagram seems centered on eastern side of the Market Square district, not far from the Sanctuary Cove. This is the mercantile heart of Iskandar; it is the source of the city’s prosperity and the magnet that draws tens of thousands of visitors every year. This district is filled with shops, marketplaces, emporiums, and arcades.

"And That's why I'm saying that you are our leader in this endeavor. This thing is magic related and You, my dear friend are a freaking magic fanatic! In a good way, of course." She steps off from the ledge turning her eyes towards the ruins instead of the view.
Not seeing any immediate danger she puts away her bolt and crossbow.

She goes on exploring around, different nooks and crannies. "Btw do we stick together while spaying on these guys or do we spy from different angles? I think staying together would be a better idea. It would decrease the number of places where they could possibly find us and by that the chances that we are found. On the other hand it would also mean that we need a bigger hiding place, not that Berry takes much space, but still." She playfully puts our her tongue passing by Berry. "And if we get caught it would mean that we all get caught at the same time. No second chances. Still I think that we should stick together. After all even if the find only one of us. They would probably order their guards or members to search the tiniest corner of this place for other spays."

Once done looking around Tilma goes to the portal through which they came and sticks out her head to see if it still works.
She pulls back in her head"No problems, it still works. And in worst case scenario we can always swim back to the city. Or hitchhike a boat. Or build a raft. It's not like we are hundreds of miles from our starting location or on a different dimension." She vaguely gestures towards the city.

She looks at Berry, "By the way. Why do you have no reflection in that broken mirror?" She points towards the mirror, "Are ya a vampire or something?"

After this she tells her companions about all the possible hiding places that she thinks of based on her search.

"We should stick together, I agree," Berry continues to look around, scanning for good hiding spots that would accommodate all three, "Huh? Reflection? Where?" He looks around for the mirror Tilma is talking about.

Laurent too, looked about, despite being tremendously distracted by the awe-inspiring vista and all that this place suggested about Iskandarian history, and also about the path they were now trodding blindly in to. He tried to commit the architectural design of this place to memory, in case they had to flee or barricade themselves.

"What's this about your reflection, Timbers?" the absent-minded scholar stated, snapping out of his state of mesmerization. He looked at the shattered mirror Tilma had been pointing at. He knelt by it, trying to confirm the elf's observation by direct trial. He then began humming the atonal psalm that had become synonymous with deliberately focused analysis.

Berry confirms he has no reflection anymore, which is definitely news. Laurent examines the mirror and finds that is not special, but thinking back on the last twenty-four hours he does recall Berry exposed himself to intense arcane energies when he grabbed the green crystal. That could have some side effects for sure. Whether this is temporary or permanent, and whether this is the whole deal or just the sign of a larger side effect Laurent cannot tell without more study.

Regarding the building:
- The roof is in shambles but still intact. Lots of holes and crows' nests, but sturdy enough to hold.
- There are no locked doors, everything is accessible
- All the furniture is old. The only new things are crates of building supplies and scaffolding that is helping to hold up crumbling walls and the remains of the roof. These are also pretty old and weather-worn, indicating a repair job had begun at some point in the past but was abaondoned.

"How about the roof? It has holes that we could look through and seems solid enough to hold us." She directs towards the scaffolding. "I'll go try it out." She starts to climb the scaffolding to reach a spot where she can climb atop the roof.

After his manipulation of the mirror shard, and confirmation of Berry's invisibility in reflection, Laurent relayed what appeared to be his best hypothesis : this must be an odd and unpredictable effect of the gnome's handling of the green stone. "I'll try to investigate the matter further, once we are away from this place. Though this handicap might be advantageous..." he mused looking at the roof around them.

"Do you think you can find a place that would be large enough for us to hide in, while getting a decent view of the main area? I will help you find it, if I can." Unexperienced as he was in the way of adventuring, the young man was persuaded that Timbers and Tilma would be in a better position to find a decent hiding place among the rafters and crumbling roofing. "Of course, if this goes badly, we won't have much hope of fleeing."

At first disturbed by this apparent change in his person, Berry immediately considers the benefits when it comes to his profession.

It’s not often a mark might spy you in a mirror, but it’s certainly an advantage.’

‘Now if only I could be invisible all the time.’

Tilma climbs up to the roof where the winds whip at her clothes. Ravens caw loudly at her but scatter without a fight as she moves around, testing the roof. She finds she can stick to the rafters easily enough and not fall through.

The large mirror is split into many fragments of varying sizes. It is quite feasible (and most clever) to place them strategically to cover additional angles.

Tilma looks around for a spot for around 10 minutes. Laying down next to most holes to see how much she can see through each one and also inquires of her friends, who are still below, to tell her how well it can be heard when she moves across the roof.

She eventually decides on a big hole through which she can see most of the main hall, or rather what used to be the main hall. Then she lays down on her back while her friends are preparing looking in the sky and talks. And talks, and talks, and talks... About the Crows on the roof, describing in detail the appearance of one... About their first adventure in the cave with the gate... About her future pet cockatrice... About who is the most handsome guy in the town, putting Norran in first place by a mile, followed by Laurent and Berry. Adding that gnomes simply aren't her cup of tea... About her first impressions on Iskandar... About the damage done by their last meddling with the gate and how although it is tragic what happened it is better that they get their hands on that power rather than some criminal organization... About how it has been some time since she last helped Berry with his work... How she exterminated hundreds of rats between their previous adventures. Describing in detail how she gutted one particularly fat rat... and so on and on.

Laurent assists Tilma as he can, initially interested in all her descriptions, but gradually losing his concentration as her meticulous descriptions of crows and conjectures about the comparative aesthetic qualities of male acquaintances. He makes sure that whatever place they find will allow them to see most exposed areas of this ruined fortification, and considers how he should open eventual talks with these mysterious and potentially dangerous people. Would they become allies or adversaries? Could they be trusted?

Turning to his companions, he eventually shared his questions about the eventual parley. "I was hoping to talk to the Tribunal delegates, not the dangerous looking thugs we saw in the warehouse; I assume the latter were agents of the Tribunal, but not members in the proper sense. Hired hands, so to say. I wondered if we should not tell them what we saw at the warehouse, explaining why we accepted this summons not originally meant for us... what say you?"

"Don't know..." Tilma elongates her words. "Can we really trust them? They are a criminal organization, aren't they? And not some small thieves like Berry. No offense." She turns around on her stomach and looks at Laurent through the hole. "How about we listen in on them at first? To see what are they intentions. Then if you decide that they are worth trusting I will back you up and help our escape if things go worse way. Speaking of which, have we a plan for escape? What if the portal door disappears, closes, once they arrive?"

"That might be best indeed, Tilma. If you are ready to trust me with that decision. As far as I can tell, te Tribunal is not a syndicate, nothing like the criminal bands we all are familiar with, like Bartoz'. What I am able to recall is that they're more like a secret society that employs highly skilled agents..."

The sun continues to climb. The note set the meeting at "the cursed sun's zenith." What sort of person shuns daylight but sets a meeting at high noon? Couldn't they have met at underground? Or at midnight? As the appointed time approaches, Tilma pokes her head out the portal one last time, and spots the mercenaries clambering over the bridge rail: the half-elf leader and two henchmen. You all scramble to your hiding places to watch and listen.

The half-elf enters the portal alone. The henchmen are probably standing sentry in the tool shed on other side. The man seems nervous at first, but he sets his feathered hat at a jaunty angle, schools his features, and swaggers into the courtyard. He walks to the edge and gazes out at the city across the water. Rolling his shoulders and drawing his rapier, he makes a few practice lunges and thrusts. He seems like an excellent fencer.

"Dashing..." Tilma murmurs silently watching the man from her hiding place.

"His balance is all off," whispers Berry, not impressed.

Laurent stretched his neck somewhat, hoping to have a clearer view, while trying not to stir dust or cause any pebbles to fall.

"Like an over-eager cock, strutting about in a nuptial parade…" he whispered mockingly, though his concerned face suggested that he was rather impressed by the display.

Not long after, the party witnesses another door open and a hunched, robed figure emerges. Behind them, the shadow-shrouded room from which they come is clearly not from this tower. Leaving the door open, It advances slowly, taking a moment to scan the ruined tower for interlopers. You sense it's cold gaze scan over you, but it does not seem to suspect your well-prepared positions (search attempt = 14, failure).

Satisfied with the security, it approaches the half-elf. It removes its hood revealing a horrible, monstrous face of mottled decaying skin, a hairless pate, and a single, terrible eye set in the center of its face. It's mouth is somehow sideways, and needle-like teeth flex and gnash, and three small jewels float in orbit around its disgusting head. Then it utters a single word and the sound echoes through the ruins like that of a vengeful ghost.

Report.

Berry carefully studies the figure and thinks through the different books he's studied to identify what the thing is.

Berry thinks back to his training, but has never seen or heard of any creature like this.

Laurent was fascinated and horrified in equal measures. He silently observed the exchange. He would ordinarily have intoned the usual atonal psalm that enhanced his capability to recall things, but he decided against it. Silence was key. His mind struggled to identify a name for such a nightmarish creature.

Reference to the IBABWaR made smile ever so gently. But he maintained his composure, and physical stillness.

Tilma observes the scene silently. The guy mentioning the gate that they found makes her smirk thinking, "Not the best at finding things, are you? We found it, hands in the pockets." she barely manages to catch herself before blundering it out in voice.

Laurent recognizes the twisted creature from a text on the dangers of magic from his temple: Like Berry, Tilma has never seen this creature before.

The creature is silent for a spell. You can't tell if it is considering the words or just lost in thought. Eventually, the great big eye blinks and it gestures to the half elf.

"Come."

It turns and walks, leaving no doubt that it intends for the half elf to follow. It stops to the edge of the shattered room, facing out into the city. Raising its arm, it produces a clawed hand that points outward.

Look at the devastation. Do you see the glorious pattern? This is the True Seal of Astaroth, the Seal of Seals. We are so ... very ... close. Every waking moment We think of it. Every sleeping moment We dream of it."

"These ... IBABWaR ... are a new piece on the playing field. They have played the role of the Astaroth Templarum, unlocking the First Seal."

"The other four Seals have yet to be activated. Do you see them? They are at the vertices of the star. Gather the violet crystals from the remaining Seals until you have three of them. Then, return here and light this candle and We shall return. Remember, you only need three."

"The reward for success will be ... immense. The punishment for failure will be ... dire. Do you understand, Falfyr the Dashing?"

Laurent nodded along silently, enthralled and intrigued by the exchange unfolding before his eyes. All thought of interacting with the Tribunal's emissary disappeared as he realized what it was, and the manner of its speech regarding the seals. He looked meaningfully at his hidden comrades, a finger held vertically before his closed lips, suggesting either that they not speak, or that he himself did not intend to.

"Adventure awaits!" whispers Berry to himself, glancing at the others to see if they have the same idea.

As she said before to Laurent, she will back his plan. Which in this case is keeping quiet. She doesn't know the exact thing Laurent wishes to do. But for her this type looks too shady to be allowed his way. If nothing else she would prefer to get her hands on those crystals rather than leaving them to this creature.

oh no you won't Berry thinks to himself.

Tilma looks at the both and tries to see also if the portal through which the two came is still open (or if they open it to leave) and if it is she tries to discern where it leads. Otherwise she stays still to not reveal their location.

"So close ..." the one-eyed creature moans. Its hand reaches out toward the city, only to clutch it back to its chest.

The anger and assertiveness return to its voice as it addresses the half-elf. "Your assurances are irrelevant. Waste no further breath on them. Only results matter!"

The creature sweeps its robes around itself in a dramatic fashion and it heads toward its portal. Tilma strains to see within the doorway portal from which the Nothic emerged but it is darkness and shadow. Falfyr has come from the same portal that you came from, under the bridge.

You can see, too, that Falfyr seems get the hint that he has been dismissed and looks towards his own exit.

Laurent chose prudence. He kept his mouth shut, and tried to remain as immobile as possible while the arcanely obsessed abomination was still about, and waited patiently for the half-elf to step back through the portal that had brought Timbers, Tilma and himself to this ruined fortification.

Once he was sure both parties had left, he finally relaxed somewhat.

"Well... that was... tense." He began trying to climb down from their perch without displacing anything; this place might still be useful in some future meeting with the Tribunal, and their place of hiding might still be of service. "That thing was a Nothic. The tortured soul of someone who was entirely consumed by the obsessive pursuit of some arcane secret." Laurent showed no signs of realizing that he was entirely devoted to the obsessive investigation of otherwordly mysteries and secrets.

"That the Tribunal would operate through such agents bodes ill for any hope of collaboration. I had hoped," he paused for a few heartbeats, as if trying to recall what he had hoped for, "I had thought this Tribunal was run by more level-headed folk, people concerned with the wellbeing of the Commonwealth. Doesn't look like it."

He looked at his companions, eager for their opinions on what had just transpired.

"I'm totally against this, 'Nothic'! He looks hell of a shady. I even feel kind of bad for the chap working for him. Imagine, having to do what ever that thing asks you. At least I hope that he gets paid well. Not that he is going to get paid cause we're going to get those stones first!" Tilma advances to the the border of the ruins and looks at the pentagram shaped destruction of the town. "I'm not really willing to find out what that creepy thing would do with the seals or their stones. So I'm voting that we get them first. The problem is that we would have to face that dude in combat and I'm pretty sure that he is Strong." she accentuates the word strong. "And I think that they also have greater numbers so they will be able to search the indicated places more quickly." she points at the points of the pentagram. "Problem is, that I personally don't know anyone we could trust around here besides you guys, Norran and that elf chick that was with us when we discovered the seal. The elf I believe has already left I believe. Norran could be of help if I can convince him to help us. He is strong. Perhaps he could check out one of the other locations while we check another. Though perhaps it would be too dangerous for him to go alone... I don't want to loose him. My cockatrice could be of help but it hasn't even hatched yet. Not even talking about being battle ready. Ps. I never trusted that tribunal. Just the name sounds too high and mighty."

"Shady indeed. If we move quickly and quietly, we can beat this elf to the goods. We are a strong unit and he can't be in more than one place at once. I would say he's most likely to head to the closest first and no matter how many men at his disposal, I doubt he'd entrust them with something so important. I mean, they seem like a bunch of uneducated thugs without much of a clue of anything. Plus, we're the heroes, right?"

Tilma chuckle, "That we are, Berry!"

The mercs just left through the portal. Do you follow, or wait til they're good and gone? Tailing them might provide some good intel, though of course you would risk being spotted. Letting them go would avoid a confrontation but you've no idea how much longer the portal will last.The fault lines indicate Seals located in each of Iskandar's six districts except for Templegate. Berry surmises the mercs will head to the nearest one next. From under the bridge in Harborside, that's even odds between Southward and Old Town.

The emissary said "you only need three" of the violet crystals. You already have one. Obviously you want to deny the mercs, and by extension, the Tribunal, access to the Seals. But might you be doing them a favor by unlocking the Seals yourselves? This bears some thought.

What do you do?

"Shall we go before the portal closes? We should be stealthy, but we can't stay here if we wish to get to the stones first. I wouldn't want to loose the precious time by swimming back to town."

"If you’d like I can follow them alone but we might move faster if we go directly. They don’t know it’s a race yet so we have that to our advantage."

Laurent listened silently at the exchange between his companions. He seemed to be internally struggling with conflicting emotions, or perhaps just lost in his thoughts.

Looking at Tilma, he gestured at his scholarly garments before stating the obvious: "If we swim, our little cotterie will be down one member...". He was clearly lacking in confidence in the athletic field.

As to Timbers' suggestion, he responded with an air of concern: "Do you think you can follow them undetected? What would you do if you were seen, on your own? It would be good to know where they are going, but it might be too risky..."

"If you're leaving it to me, my personal preference would be to race them. I have supreme confidence in my ability to stay hidden and in the very unlikely event I am spotted, to get away. However all, even if I tailed them, it means they'd get to the destination first and I likely wouldn't be able to get hold of what we're looking for anyway."

"I agree, we need to hurry to get there first, grab what we need and get to the next one. We'll grab as many as we can. Though now that I think about it... Didn't it knock you out last time?" she turns to Laurent while they walk towards the portal. "You know, when you touched it. For a second I thought that you were a goner."

"You assume they are immediately heading for the next seal," Laurent responded to Berry, entering his calculating state of mind. "It might as well be that the black cloaks need to regroup, plan, scout. As do we. I don't imagine that all these seals are sitting beneath abandoned buildings, or are necessarily adjacent to the sewers", he continued, his gaze shifting to Tilma, the party's expert in all things sanitation-infrastructure related. "But knowing where they are based is useful information. I for one am in no condition to tangle with that band of cutthroats, so I'd say if you feel able to follow undetected, I'll trust your judgment on that."

As he accompanied the party towards the portal to the door beneath the bridge, he answered Tilma's query. "For a moment, yes. I was uh..., taken away, as it were. Knocked out in this plane of existence, while my intellect floated elsewhere. I uh..." the youth scratched his hair, his expression suggesting he was conflicted about delving into those memories, or perhas about sharing them, "had a vision, some would say. Experienced a mystical epiphany others might claim. In any case, I was just some dead weight for you two... we must plan around that contingency, for sure. The envoy, well, was it just me or did he just care about the violet stones? I wonder why that is... he also said something about a templarum something..." He furrowed his brows in concentration, and recalled the passage of the Nothic's speech, as spoken: "They have played the role of the Astaroth Templarum, unlocking the First Seal", he stated, even trying to imitate the inhuman tone of the tortured creature's voice.

‘It’s human nature to take the path of least resistance," notes Berry in reference to why they would head to the nearest one first, "Gnomish too, come to that. I’d say it’s a fairly solid guess."

Berry takes out a coin and flips it," The coin says Old Town. We agreed?"

"Ok, then let's go! Laurent, you brake that smart head of yours to figure out how we will take that seal and the rest of problems. And let us do the manual work, slash, fighting, if need be. Berry, you know the old town the best. So you lead. Any idea of the exact location from what we saw from above." she talks as she crosses the portal and steps back in town.

As his companions walked towards Old Town, Laurent kept musing about what they might be able to do to gain advantage over the Tribunal's agents.

"We still have the mirror. We could use it to set Bartoz after the black cloaks. They could interfere with those thugs activities, while we look for you know what..."

Berry reckons the fault lines meet in the vicinity of Founders' Square, just a couple of blocks from his lodgings on Long Alley. Tonight, the square is the site of the Night Market, a vibrant once-a-month bazaar set up in a different location each time, where goods of all kinds are traded, and valid currency consists of anything the seller may place value in. Wares and currency alike consist of weapons, clothes, food, and trinkets, but also services, favors, and things most people might not think of as valuable.

Berry knows something else most folk don't: the vendors in the square are only a small part of the Night Market. Sellers of shadier or the more exotic kind set up shop up on rooftops or below street level, away from the eyes of the authorities and other upright folk.

Having led a very cloistered life for the last few years, Laurent is both impressed and somewhat wary to be within the vibrant and colourful street market. He shrinks somewhat within, and becomes quite concerned with the proximity of the crowds of folk perusing wares, hawking their goods and services, and generally walking about. He focuses his attention on following Timbers, who is not only a local, but also much more street-savvy than he.

"I think we should head underground. There will be some activity down there but if we can pinpoint where the fault line is. Hopefully no-one has stumbled across what we're looking for."

Tilma puts her arm around Laurent's shoulders. "Don't worry! As I said, think! Don't worry about anything else, we'll keep you safe." and she taps her crossbow. "In a place like this there is a good chance that someone has found it. Perhaps there will be some people keeping watch? But I don't think that they have touched it or else the catastrophe we caused would have happened earlier." she follows Berry underground.

Nodding silently, Laurent allowed himself to be guided and comforted by his comrades. He seemed to be having some difficulty processing all the disparate threads emerging from their actions of the previous day.

In his mind, this was supposed to have been a carefree adventurous romp, thrilling but ultimately harmless : a few hours later entire neighborhoods were in ruins, and they were exhausted and stretched thin — spying on dangerous forces while trying to avoid the insidious reach of an infamous crime lord. What a day!

The corners of Founders' Square are marked by statues which are said to depict those who built Iskandar, though it's impossible to know for sure as the ancient statues are unidentifiable thanks to the ravages of time, weather, war, and generations of vandals.

It's not long past midday but the square's already dotted with merchant stalls and tents being set up. A few are gaudy and fine, but most are modest affairs. Before dark, the above-ground Night Market will fill the cobbled square and spill beyond its borders, though it's nothing to rival the Grand Bazaar. The part that's hidden away beneath the square, that some call the Under-Market, is something else entirely. Known only to the street-wise, it seems almost a living, breathing thing.

You descend into the city's underbelly into a world even Tilma never imagined could exist down here.


The system of subterranean cisterns is crammed with vendors and peddlers who've put up stalls, or erected elaborate platforms, or simply squatted on worn rugs. Every sort of trade you can think of, whether legal or otherwise, goes on here. You see a gap-toothed man hawking sweet treats. Over there, perfumes in crystal vials are on display in front of a ramshackle stall. A blind woman sells a dizzying array of spices. A pot-bellied dwarf paddles a raft down a water channel, his floating distillery loaded with kegs of moonshine. Hooded figures conduct whispered transactions in the shadows.

Berry is in his element here. There's something else the gnome knows that will help allay Laurent's fears. By ancient tradition, the Night Market, both above and below, is a strict no-violence zone. Even the most bitter enemies can run into each other here without fear as no one would dare violate this one-night truce.

"What are we looking for, precisely?" the young man asked, a bit overwhelmed by the incessant discoveries this day had brought to him. An hour with these two was more productive than a year in the scroll-stacks. But it was a lot to handle, and he felt uncomfortably out of his element throughout most of it... in a strange way, facing off a Grell, fleeing over rooftops both seemed somewhat more normal than discovering this strange underground market in the heart of the City. What else had Laurent missed, all these years.

"I don't know. Perhaps a place where the distraction from when we removed the orb is most prominent? A way to get below? Someone who knows where to find that or those orbs." Tilma looks around searching for the things she mentioned.

On your way down here you saw work crews moving rubble from the underground fault lines. Probably Bartoz's men, making good on his promise to help rebuild the city.

Tilma filches a bag of freshly-roasted chestnuts while the vendor is busy collecting payment from a tall, honey-haired, woman. Strangely, the accepted payment appears to be a lock of her hair which the vendor snips with a pair of shears.

Tilma thinks she's gotten away scot-free but the three of you suddenly find your way barred by a trio of urchins. The tall, skinny girl with a wooden toy sword stuck into her belt is obviously their leader. Wordlessly, she points at Tilma, then slams her thin wrists together, followed by several other odd hand gestures.

"Nat says we'll tell old Hakeem ya stole those nuts unless ya pay us the tax," growls the slender boy to the leader's right. A small bow and a quiver of toy arrows are slung across his back. Remarkably, the boy has red skin, a long tail, and the horns common of tieflings. His kind are extremely rare in Iskandar. Most people still remember the fiendish incursion only twenty years ago, and so the demon-blooded are distrusted at best, reviled at worst.

"Two coppers each," the tiefling declares. "And half the chestnuts! We aint' cheap! Aint' that right, Jenks?" the little extortionist adds, turning sharply to the last member of their gang, a stout, dark-skinned boy with what appears to be a stuffed animal on perched on his shoulder. Jenks nods shyly, licking his lips in anticipation.

The urchins eye you expectantly. What do you do?

Berry just wasn't sure what we were looking for, something similar to what we found before perhaps? Then when urchins showed up..

"So what if we just pay Hakeen for the chestnuts and keep all of them? We could pay with your hair," Berry pulls his knife, a fiendish grin and eyes on Nat's long hair. "In fact we could buy three bags with those luscious locks."

"Now who said the youth are not enterprising. That sounds like an excellent arrangement," Berry slides his blade into its sheath,

Laurent was at first perplexed by the children and somewhat concerned once he realized Tilma's thievery might be getting them in trouble. Once Timbers pulled a knife, however, his face went pale, and his heartbeat seemed to slow down. Despite the gnome's joking attitude, the getsure had seemed terrifying to the young man; he definitely had no understanding of the mores of those living off the streets.

The deescalation produced by Nat's intervention and Berry's reaction to it relaxed his nerves, though he still looked nervously about, wondering who might have overheard them, or seen, blades being drawn.

"If your vigilance is anything to go by," Laurent stated, in a slightly quavering voice, "you may indeed be the most appropriate guides. Enterprising, yes."

Tilma smiles, puts a chestnut in her mouth and let's the taste fill it while they are talking. She then kneels down to be shorter and not to look at them from above. "If you wanted some you should have just told so." she holds the bag forward inviting them to take some. "So tell me. How much did you hear?"

Tilma swings the bag in front of their noses to let the aroma fill the air. "You sure you don't want some?" she smiles. "Yes, we seek a magical orb. It is around this big." she shows the size with her hands, And it is purple and irradiates light, or an aura. It's clearly magical and most probably accompanied by a similar green orb. Have you seen something? It should be underground, perhaps?" Tilma tries to keep an eye on the men working the rubble while she talks.

"Tilma, I have an idea, I’ll be right back."

Berry wanders off the get within earshot of the work crews, stealthily as he can, listening if any of them are talking about what they are after.

"Magic orbs?" Jenks' eyes light up, for the moment forgetting the handful of chestnuts he was in the middle of extracting while they're still on offer.

Squiddly wags a finger at Tilma. "Now, hold on. Ya pay us our 2 coppers first, then we help."

The work crew Tilma's watching look innocent enough. Maybe not all of Bartoz's men are bad. Maybe he hires honest folk too, who end up unwittingly helping a bad man line his pockets.

Happy with the information he's gleaned, Berry casually makes his way back to report to his fellows.

Laurent reaches into his pouch and swiftly produces a silver coin. To these urchins, it must be a small fortune.

"Consider this a retainer. If you have any idea where such orbs might be, or if you hear anything about them, you can come to us. And if you can't find us here, you may leave a message at Durthane's Cutlery in the Southward District. You can leave the message to agent Anton Horatovic of the EYE-BAB-WaR, that's I.B.A.B.Wa.R. If the information is worth it, there'll be a lot more coin coming your way.".

Tilma takes a couple chestnuts before giving the rest of the bag to Jenks. "Here you go?" She then turns to Berry, "So? What now?"

"Well, that confirms they are looking for a big purple gem, so that's what we are after too. We could have the kids search this level while we go down into the pits?"

The kids' eyes go wide at the shiny silver coin. It is indeed a small fortune to urchins like they. Jenks accepts the chestnuts too, and shares them with his friends.

"Sure, we can search this level for you," Nat signs. "You really wanna go down into the pits? Even the Rat Catchers' Guild don't go down there—too dangerous..."

"Nah, I been down there before," Squiddly interjects. "Ain't that bad!"

"Tell us more about the Pits, lad," Laurent spoke, eyeing Squiddly intently. And, before the child had time to answer, he looked briefly to his companions, and whispered "How's Bartoz after these precise things?".

"Shhhh," Berry indicates for Jenks to be quiet, "Actually the opposite. He’s looking for the same thing we are, which is why we need skilled adventurers like yourselves on our team."

"The orphanage in the Harborside district? I know the place. Have you truly seen this child slave trade occurring?" the young scholar asked, with barely contained disgust in his voice. This just made Bartoz’ operation even more intolerable, and speeding his downfall even more urgent.

To his companions, he pursued in a more operational tone. "Sounds like some precautions might be worth taking. What do you think, Tilma" he asked deferring to their resident liquid waste management expert. "Unseen explosive gas sounds like a dangerous, heartless foe. Do we have time to look for the proper tools?"

Not really listening to Laurent for now Tilma exclaims in raised voice, "He does what now!?" you can see that she is clearly angry. "That son of a..." she struggles to find a word that would fit, but nothing bad enough comes to mind. "If I ever get my hands on Barton he's going to regret having been born. I will pick out his hair one by one, then hang him upside down in the most stinking part of the sewers, full with rats. And once rats are done with him I'll feed the rest to worms... And... And..." she closes her eyes, clenches her fists and tries to quell her anger a little before turning to Laurent and asking in a forcibly calm voice, "You said something?"

Berry was neither shocked or concerned at the mention of child slavery, such things were stock in trade for people like Bartoz. Not pleasant, but a reality. Instead he focuses on the matter at hand, esepcially with time against us

"I'll get a few things together, anything to add to the list?

Rope, torches, pitons, canary..."

"A crowbar, a pick axe or shovel, in case we need to remove obstructions..." the scholar mused, out of pure theoretical knowledge in the field of mining.

"Ok, then let's go shopping. The sooner we're done with preparations the sooner we can snatch the orb from in front of his nose. And the sooner I can break that nose of his." she kicks away a pebble. Then she suddenly looks at Berry with a small realization, "You know what Berry? Remember the cave with cockatrices? It was a pit where Bartoz threw his enemies, right? We presumed that he didn't know about the orbs there. But perhaps he knew? That would explain his men searching them. Perhaps he didn't simply know what they were for or if he Could take them. They were shooting lightnings after all."
She heads for the stalls, looking for what her companions listed as well as some non flammable light source. Cause she definitely wasn't going to let her short friend bring Torches in a gas filled underground.

"That’s possible." Berry already has some of the gear he needs and just needs to swing by his digs to grab them, "Lantern not torches, got it. I’ll bring one, might make a helpful weapon, in the right situation ," he winks at Tilma.

"A lantern with an everlasting flame is what we need… the slightest flame could cause an explosion. A canary or other such bird might be useful too… they will suffer from suffocation before we do, alerting us to unseen dangers."

"But wouldn't an ever lasting flame still ignite the gas?" Tilma wonders

"I believe not, magical flame gives light without heat. It will not burn paper, or your fingertips, if you touch an enchanted flame, it is only seeming, not a real thing."

"Cool...! Got to get some." Tilma smiles and continues browsing

"There should be a trader around these parts willing to sell such an item. It isn't a highly sophisticated incantation, overall..." Laurent said, looking about for any indications of a vendor of lesser magic items, or a trader in lamps and torches.

Being the tools of their professions, most of the items you seek are already in Berry's or Tilma's packs. Still, there are some curious finds as you explore the Night Market.

Laurent finds a scriber of scrolls. A bearded, gnomish sage perched atop a ridiculously tall podium. His prices are even more ridiculous.

---

A dwarvish youth with a golden hammer tattoo shows off an array of sturdy mining tools of the finest make. Guaranteed to get the job done better than your ordinary tools! Amazing prices! Act now! She swears none of it's stolen from a rival dwarf clan, but you're fairly sure she's lying.

Here and there, you witness transactions made with currency just as strange as the locks of hair at the chestnut stand: toenail clippings, candied beetles, bottled song, vials of tears.

A spindly man sits cross-legged atop a wooden crate from which loud munching sounds can be heard. The man puts down his cup of berry-infused tea and shows you what's in the crate. Giant silkworms, the size of Berry's leg, chomping on mulberry leaves. The man sells bolts of fine silk. And silk cord stronger than rope. The man only accepts giant dragonfly wings as payment. Luckily, Squiddly knows where to get some, and offers to run to the other end of the market to buy them for you.

A matronly halfling in a shabby feather cape sells songbirds of all kinds. Her stall is illuminated by a floating ball of light which Laurent recognizes as a driftglobe.

Tilma heads to the lady with the birds as per Berry's suggestion they need a bird to warn them about the gas. The floating orb of light intrigues her and before talking about the birds she takes a close look at the orb. "Good day, madam! Is this orb for sale as well? I imagine that it is your light source, but it looks like what we've been searching for. Also I would like to buy a bird that would warn us about gas."

"That would delightful, thank you," Berry stands watching the worm eat, fascinated, "can I ask, what do you need the dragonfly wings for?"

Berry raises an eyebrow and sniffs the contents of the cup.

Tilma glances at the sewer and tries to situate it in her head, thinking about where it could lead and what are chances that the fish survived.

Berry sniffs the dragonfly tea. Light and airy with herb and berry notes, and just a hint of citrus.

Tilma knows these convoluted water conduits can lead anywhere. A fish could survive as long as it doesn't end up in some predator's gullet. Tilma doesn't know of any fish that can swim up a drainpipe though, so the bird lady's hope that Maude can swim home seems ridiculous. Maybe if someone brought the driftglobe down to where Maude is, maybe the fish can be found and be reunited with her friend.

Berry takes the opportunity to rest, knowing the race ahead and quietly drinks the tea with the silk merchant.

Tilma looks at the lady feeling sorry for her. "I'm sorry but there is no way that your fish can swim back here. I work in sewers so I know what I'm talking about. However! Maybe if I brought the driftglobe down to where Maude is, maybe the fish can be found and be reunited with you. Although there are no guarantees, it's still more likely than it returning here. Do you wish for me to bring it down? I'll do it for free, no worries. I can see how attached you are to Maude. "

"I'm just glad to be of service." and she takes the globe and holds it under her arm while browsing the birds. "I would like 3 canaries, please. Here you go." she looks at the old lady and gives her a wide, sincere smile while handling her the money with a couple extra coppers. She likes the old lady.

Laurent looked back at Jenks, discreetly. The prices the gnomish scrivener expected for the scrolls were beyond his range, but the young man tried to dissimulate his lack of means with a slight air of indifference.

"How may I address you, Master Scrivener?" he stated, opening what he hoped might be a fruitful exchange. "Some of your wares are of interest to me, though I wonder if you are only interested in gold as a means of payment?"

Though he is surprised by the silent method of communication chosen by the Scrivener, Laurent attempted to display as little emotion as possible.

"Far more precious," he stated, "though nothing displayed here would be worth such an exchange. Services, or information, perhaps? Knowledge is far more precious than gold, in the right hands. And every scrivener has tasks that need taking care of."

As Berry and Squiddly leave the silk merchant's stall, something very strange happens. Berry's head swims for a few moments and then everything comes into incredibly clear focus! It's a little disorienting at first—his vision seems strangely segmented at the edges—but then he realizes those edges now extend almost all the way behind him! As if he had eyes that wrapped around most of his head—like those of a dragonfly!

"Ya alright, boss?" Squiddly asks.

"I could give you an impeccable account relating to the criminal activities of a certain notable, and his clashes with not one, but two rival factions in the Harborside district, for instance, he stated discretely, looking about to make sure they were not being overheard.

Berry rubs his eyes, "Oh, yes, fine." He's a little disconcerted but he doesn't reveal to Squiddly what he's experiencing but will find a quiet moment with Laurent and Tilma to explain what's happening.

Laurent observed the proffered sheet of paper with a perplexed air as he scrutinized the script. His brows knotted somewhat, as his lips were pursed in an expression of slight displeasure. He took the quill, and began scribbling. After a few moments, he handed the sheet back.
He observed the gnome's reaction politely. He did not expect this to be a matter of interest, and was preparing himself to leave empty handed.

Nothing's gained from the scrivener but you have your gear and the determination to forge ahead. Squiddly draws you a crude map of the route you're to navigate. The three urchins salute you and scurry off to conduct their own search around the Night Market.

With that, you begin your descent into the Nasty Pits.