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Rule of Three part one
10.02.02, 13:18:32
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Post #1 (permalink) |
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Hello this is part one of a story i'm writing that's none too short. Well, here goes..
Consider this, the universe is not one of a kind. There are more than a thousand thousand of them, every single one of them are linked by gateways known as portals. Each portal leads to one place, the waystation of the multiverse, the round-a-bout of the dimensions, the Liverpool street of infinity, otherwise known as the city of Sigil. The denizens of most of the universes know little of this city or even if it and other universes exist but there are little clues, as if some divine creator thought that we should try and bloody well figure something out about the way of things ourselves.
Every portal has a key, this key could be anything, from humming a tune to merely opening a door. It is nearly impossible to find out the key to a portal, some travellers of the multiverse, otherwise known as planewalkers, say they found out by scrolls of the ancients but most of them found out by pure guesswork.
Planewalkers travel the multiverse or Planescape as they call it, in search of adventure, wealth and additional wealth. But eventually every planewalker has to stop and put his feet up somewhere where it doesn't matter if they tell someone about the planescape while under the the influence of drugs, alchohol, depression or all three. That is the reason for Sigil, the city of doors. Of course after many millennia of planewalkers settling down the population of the city has increased and the city is now a plane of its own. Sigil is ruled by the mysterious Lady of Pain, little is known about her and little is wanted from her. The god is now thought to be more of a myth than a reality as she only appears to those that face her wrath. Those who suffer her anger are rarely found, those that are aren't alive to enjoy the fact.
Now let us view a man, he may be the hero of this story, he may not, you're just going to have to wait. He is sitting on a bar stool in the Smouldering Corpse Bar, a place so disreputable that it would now be a tourist attraction, that is if tourists knew about Sigil. At some point in their lives every planewalker would come to the Corpse, not for the atmosphere and certainly not for the company but because every drink in the Planescape is served here and nobody really cared if you killed someone for taking your change.
This man is dressed in Black, everything he's wearing is Black. This is no ordinary black, this Black is darker than darkness, so dark that it deserves the capital letter. The man's clothes make it hard to acknowledge the fact that he's there. Another even more disconcerting thing about this man is the fact that, contrary to common sense in Sigil, he did not appear to carry any weapons whatsoever.
The barman was rather worried about his welfare when he saw this shadowy character enter the Corpse, nobody who ignored the purpose of a weapon on the planescape was safe to be near. Usually they're so dangerous that they find weapons more of a cumberance than a help or they are insane. In any case Planewalkers called these people sinji, tentra or more commonly Looney Bastards. The man's order was stranger than his looks, he was obviously human, so why did he want demon's blood to drink and a steak so blue it was still grazing? That kind of meal is normal for an Abishai but if a human drank demon's blood he would be dead before he could have a second sip.
Another unusual customer entered the Corpse, this one didn't try to hide it's race. It was one of the lizard-like baatzu, a totally evil but honourable race who dwell on the plane of Baator. This particular baatzu was a Red Abishai, a captain of the baatzu army, seeing one in a place so disreputable as the Corpse or even the Hive is rare, in fact, an encounter with a Red Abishai outside of the upper wards is something to note in your diary. This particular baatzu stalked over to the man in black with an accompliment of a tapping raised by his claws on the metal floor.
The man clothed in black looked up from his steak at the creature. His face was exposed from the shadow of his hat for the first time since he entered but this was not as comforting as it should be. He wasn't particularly ugly, in a good light he could be quite handsome, so long as the light didn't reach his eye. It was blue, not the usual iris only blue seen in normal people but the full ball sapphire blue usually seen in gods. The socket that should house an identical eye was in fact the happy home of a golden sphere which seemed to be constantly analysing the surroundings regardless of what the other eye was up to. At the moment both socket dwellers focused on the lizard. He smiled, that is to say his mouth turned up at the corners and some abnormally long canines were allowed to see the world, they obviously didn't enjoy it because they shrank back to a more human size a few moments later.
'What can I do for you friend?' His voice was possibly the most normal thing about this man, it wasn't something you'd particularly notice in a crowd, yet there were small traces of something that would not be welcome in a dark alley. 'Or should I say "fiend"?' he added.
'You are the one known as Caspion?' Basic is not an easy language for the baatzu the nature of their forked tongues makes it hard for them to pronounce short esses.
'Who wants to know?'
'My name is of no consequence. I merely serve under the First Lord Ten'rak of Baator.'
'Your basic is good for a baatzu.'
'I specialise in conversation with non-baatzu'
'An abishai in PR. Ha! That's a good one. Now, what do you want of me?'
'We hear you are a master thief.' Hate pratically dripped from the word 'thief'. Baatzu were intensely honourable and despised those who weren't.
'I am exceptionally skilled.'
'We have a job for you. The pay is worth the risk involved.'
'I'm listening.'
The abishai blinked in that way people blink when they're nervous. He had never felt like this before, nervousness is not a common emotion in abishai. It was the blueness of the eye that was bothering him, the golden one was alright, he'd been exposed to things like that since he was spawned but the blue eye seemed to read the very darkness of his soul and there was a lot to go around.'We want you to aquire an item for us. Although the owner may need to be terminated.'
'I will need to know what this item is and who or what the owner is.'
The abishai inhaled deeply and held out his palm. A small sphere appeared in his hand, it began to grow until it was the size of a football. Inside the globe was a sword spinning on a skewed axis.'The sword of Gabriel. It is a valuable artifact and very important to us.'
'If it's so important why don't you get it yourself.'
'It is located on a plane were we cannot go, the law of the planes forbids it.'
'The plane is clueless?'
'Yes. There are no abishai on the plane in question either. Humans are the dominant race.'
'Who owns this sword?'
The abishai appeared to concentrate once more, the image of the sword dissolved and formed the shape of a winged human.'He is a deva named Orion.He is fairly powerful and quite a fight for even a Cornogon.Fortunately his death is not required but should you succeed in terminating him we shall gladly pay extra.'
'This sword, how much is it worth to you?'
'Eight thousand copper commons and a favour from us.'
'Make it ten grand and we'll talk more.'
The abishai snorted irratably. 'Impudent mortal! Who are you to alter our terms?'
The man known as Caspion smiled lazily once more and folded his arms. His real, if unusual, eye slowly shifted colour to blood red. 'I think I'm the man who'll accept your job for ten gs.'
The abishai hissed, his wings unfurled and he leapt at Caspion. The thief moved at lightning speed, his arms unfolded and covered his face, a dagger was in each hand. Abishai and blades connected with a meaty noise. Caspion, with inhuman strength, threw the creature across the room. Before the abishai hit the wall he had stood up and drawn another weapon. This time it wasn't a normal weapon for Sigil, it had the handle of a short crossbow but where a bow should be was a pipe, in between the pipe and handle was a cylinder and a complicated mechanism involving a trigger, a glowing rune was engraved on the handle. On planes that know of these weapons they are called revolvers.
Caspion aimed and pulled the trigger back. A short lived tongue of fire lashed out of the pipe's mouth, the abishai's hip exploded with blood at the same moment as it hit the wall.
A few moments later the abishai, wincing in pain, stood up and limped slowly back to Caspion's table. Caspion looked up at the creature, his eye had changed back to its original disconcerting saphire blue, not a scrap of surprise at his opponents resilience was visible on his face. 'Ten thousand or nothing.'
The abishai grinned an extremely toothy grin, he probably didn't mean to show so many teeth, he was just built that way. 'You are certainly an accomplished warrior. Very well, ten thousand. We shall enjoy working with you. Unfortunately we are not certain of Orion's exact location but we suggest you start looking on the primeworld of Earth. We shall pay on delivery.' On that word he turned and walked towards the exit.
He had only gone a couple of yards when Caspion called out, 'Hey, aren't you forgetting something?'
The abishai turned and looked at Caspion.The human pointed at the fiend's chest. The abishai looked down and appeared to notice the two six-inch daggers embedded up to the hilt in his chest for the first time. 'Ah, yes.' He pulled the knives out and examined the blades that trickled with green blood. 'Baatzu green steel, some of our finest yet.' At that he threw them on the table and limped out, blood was still oozing from his wounds.
So where next? I'm open to suggestions.
Caspion |
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