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Post by Krakenbox on Jun 19, 2021 20:58:58 GMT -8
The shadowplay was odd with The Broker's impossible silhouette splitting across the wall against the ethereal flickering of yet another purchased ally. The tower lift brought them all the way to the top where they were immediately funneled into a tight series of open air alleyways. The Artisan District is a spanning market with established shops etched into the stone, lit with lava rivers that cut through the streets. Tapestries and street vendors tout various Goblin Fruits, Hedgespun tailors, and magic trinkets, but their target was the center according to the Huntsman (and The Broker, and Gavin with his notes). Down another lift they went, seeing the winding stairs would take most of them at least an hour to trek as is spiraled the core of the dense metropolis. The sun doesn’t reach the second layer of the city, aptly dubbed The Red Light District. Lighting is exclusive to the veins of lava within the walls and among the streets. Fairy fire lights the lamp posts, with bottles strung as street lights among the bars and hotels. There is intricate graffiti down twisting alleyways that shift when one’s attention drifts. Goblins no longer street hawk, trying not to draw attention to their wares that may end in a savage robbery, with weapons displayed openly. The buildings are less polished, even crumbling with haphazard additions and a lack of symmetry. It gave everyone a headache to track, though Gavin seemed as deft as their more Wyrd counterparts. They plunged further through the iron gates that made their stomachs drop as they crossed the threshold, like the sudden jolt of an imagined elevator. The architecture become more stretched and chaotic as it was spun into the pitch dark of the stone. The Courthouse itself was nestled in a tight vein within the canyon, illuminated in the sickly red glow of molten ditches that fume with the burning waste of the city. They were given a wide breadth, the denizens either closing shop or, with no other choice, pressing against the stone of the termite city. The party parts a line of robed hobgoblins, in various clusters that echoed the camps outside the walls. The ones with faces capable of expression seem perturbed, harried, and desperate as they jealously watch the Huntsman pass unimpeded. The main hall was left, where loud arguing can be heard from the chamber. A quick peak inside showed a hulking figure with a candlewax crown, and a pale glowing centaur that instilled an intense sense of curiosity and comfort. The Broker hissed, yanking back whoever was bewitched as he admonished the Huntsman. A child’s voice can be heard addressing the room, offering more land to the great Machina if their people are allowed passage. The Torchlight Rogue brushes off the automaton: they has asked for the King face to face, rather than a proxy. It eventually stops at the entrance to Pandemonium proper. It is a giant carved mask of clenched teeth, and carved steel eyes that roll and track the approaching motley. Runes etched in right angles like a circuit board run through the mask of a face, and appear to connect to two human figures that flank each side. A light erupts through the circuit, zigzagging to the gatekeepers and along the floor under the group. Both open their eyes, bright and glowing. "The Torchlight Rogue and the gardeners!" She stands smoothly, walking along the circuit before offering a formal bow to both the Huntsman, and the Gavin Graves. "Children of Autumn are always welcome in our halls. The Pact still stands between our monarchs."Mirroring movement, the pair key along the ruins in a blur of motion. The mouth of the mask opens, smelling of decay with bones and half rotted parts wafting from the recesses of the teeth. The eyes look around frantically as it keeps stretching, letting out an unholy screech as the jaw is pried from the cranium, tongue lolling to the floor as a carpet while the arch is formed, teeth hanging like a guillotine. There is simply a lift on the other side, the metal bent and damaged as if something has gnawed and clawed at it from the outside. The Huntsman gestures for the motley to continue, having fulfilled its duties. The two gatekeepers step aside for them. "Best of luck, children!"As the lift descends, enough light begins to filter, where they pass another carved figure of a wailing female, blood seeping from the stone wraps around her eyes, as star maps and gears split from the skull in quiet ticking, robes splitting to reveal a balcony. Unseen eyes quietly track as they pass. The acidic smell of guano starts to become overwhelming as the walls become lined with dark cages, harpy-like entities roosting and sleeping along the crags, until a large cavern opens to a massive chimera of man and vulture feasting on a figure held in his talons, the chains coated in rust and grime as it blindly sniffs the air with what looked like a falcon helm around its eyes. A spider-like automaton clicks and whirrs as it carefully carves the visage off a pale, still body, before handing it off to reaching hands from the surrounding crevices of the workshop. Machine-infused bodies are hung above a kiln, with the light coming from an unseen red source. It beats, shaking the walls and causing dust to shower with each slow pulse, minutes apart. The lift clangs to a stop, hovering above an ashen pit, the red light from the cracks above in a sky like frozen lightning. Among the ruins, a tall, stretched figure of ethereal robes and wisping hair pours over a rotting map. She glows a sickly fairy-fire green. As the group approaches, she finishes a scroll and tosses over the side. The ash twists into the form of hungry hounds, until one claws above the rest and snaps the contract, the fire charging to the surface between the cracks. What appeared to be a rusted crown is actually a spiked collar, hovering above her head. "Have you come to pay your debt?" she asks flatly.
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Riley Sorsa
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Presence (3) Captivating | SL(1) Stylish Mantle (2)Spring | Status(1) Entertainment
Posts: 913
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Post by Riley Sorsa on Jun 21, 2021 8:35:15 GMT -8
The darkling moved along, finding the guidance of a huntsman to be...unnerving, to say the least. They had dropped their light shy to engage with the thing but didn't put it up again upon the journey through the market.
Perhaps against the Moth's best judgment, the market provided a strange sense of excitement and wonder. Their eyes track through the market, taking in the wears, the traders, and those who moved about. Riley takes time to be mindful and watch the etiquette and culture of the market. How did the goblins address each other, their practices in trading, the signs of respect or disrespect. Taking note of possible vendors or places to visit once their duty to the freehold was handled.
At one point, Riley took note of the large Vulture like creature, who seemed familiar in its shape and size. Could it be the one from the desert? The one who got away during the Revenant crisis? The Moth stopped for a moment to observe before being ushered forward by the Broker.
As the Huntsmen gives its departure remarks, Riley knew that they would be required to do their part in this venture very soon. Letting the glamour flow, they snap their gauntlet twice, and their hairnettle seems to shimmer brighter and flash and shine against the Bright Ones own light.
"here goes nothin"
The lift brought the party down into the heart of the city, within strange and eerie ruins. Riley glances at their companions as they are addressed by the figure. They had remembered the warning from Bastile to only deal with the True King of the market and not a proxy. The Huntsmen had promised to take them to do just that, and this strange woman before them could be just that. But what if the Huntsmen didn't know?
Riley cleared their throat, uncertain how to brooch the topic. The Bright One gives a respectful bow to show respect.
"Indeed, we have come from the Vegas freehold as agents of our sovereigns. Please, forgive my rudeness. We have been instructed to treat only with the true Lord of this place. In good faith, I ask if we are treating Machina?"
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Jun 21, 2021 9:28:57 GMT -8
Archie followed somewhere nestled in the middle of the group. Not feeling safe unless he knew the motley was around him. Wonders, and curiosities were abound, but none seemed to peak interest worth risking leaving the group or diverting for now. Maybe once business was done and they had some breathing room. Until then he nudged Riley to take the leader, clearly skittish but not ignorant to the situation. He made sure to read the room as Riley began their speech and the daunting figure was before them. They were nothing like David Bowie. SK- Archie — Today at 10:19 AM
RRH
Sense Motive
Wits + Emp + Special + WP
@dicecord-CoD roll 10
Dicecord-CoD
BOT
— Today at 10:19 AM
@sk- Archie rolled 10 dice and got 4 successes. 9 6 6 1 8 3 10(5) 7 10(3) 3
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Post by Gavin Graves on Jun 21, 2021 14:53:38 GMT -8
When the creature was bound and sealed in its words Gavin silently released a sigh of relief. At least now its presence was mostly predictable, within reason. Since it would no longer be necessary to hide, for the most part. He ended Light Shy, but chose his timing and positioning carefully to return some of the unnerving presence back to the Good Cousin's agent. He appeared in a blur of speed passing underneath the creature's limbs and too close for its comfort within its defensive reach. Gavin ended the motion by casually cleaving one of the pathway's large hardened flagstones, easily of the same heft as the creature's massive wings, in half with a single extended claw drawing him to a stop and sending his silent message. It wasn't so much an active threat as a reminder that there were others with teeth around. It might give it pause for the next apparently lonely passing Lost it encounters. "A bold approach considering the season, Hunter." Gavin left it at that with no further posturing. The other Changelings travelling with him might have been somewhat shocked by his appearance though. His form had become yet more deadly than they'd seen him last. Just how many ways could this Razorhand enhance his capacity to kill?
Gavin took a slight detour to gather up Wayland as they began their movement into the Market proper.
When the Huntsman and the Hobgoblin offered directions Gavin nodded his agreement with their assessments to take the edge off the severity of relying on such alien beings for advice in this landscape. Begrudgingly, they were correct and perhaps bound to be so. Gavin was the guide, and he hoped to not let the others forget despite the circumstances and interference. He had done his job well. His guidance didn't place a burden on the soul, or come through extortion either.
Passing through the varied levels and purposed sections of The Market, Gavin took note of the places he might like to stop on the way back. A line on reliable Goblin Fruit with specific purposes for the Freehold and the possibility of finding an Icon tantalized his sense of purpose as the group maneuvered the shifting streets and skirted the hungry eyes passed by easily due the presence of the Fae's soldier. Gavin wasn't able to manifest such a bearing and would have had to rely on more cunning and applied physicality to get the others where they were going. This way required less blood, but what would the true cost be? he wondered.
It was interesting that Gavin had had similar door openings for his own passage as that of the Huntsman due to his affiliation with the Autumn Court. Previously his passage in the Market didn't have quite the same official statements attached to it. He was previously unaware that others would have greater barriers placed before their entry.
Each of these things Gavin noted in the margins and blank spaces within the files handed to him by Bastion. He took care to be paced behind the group as rear guard while making such notations and used the moments while the Fae monstrosity was otherwise engaged to keep the observations from being spied by it. Gavin wasn't sure it was going to do any good, but it made him feel better.
When they had arrived at the apparent destination, he pressed forward and paid particular attention to make sure their attendant Huntsman wasn't going to be looming over their shoulder, nor the eyes of its herald. Freehold business needed to happen without the Enemy knowing the ins and outs of it lest all future business be laden with ambush and fraught with loopholes and pitfalls seeded into the wording--at least he imagined that would be how it would go. It was expressly part of their task for their Oaths to not be laden or weakened as such.
Though they were likely in the right place, the crown above the head of the being in front of them and addressing them may not necessarily mean it was what might be assumed: The Goblin King. Gavin took pause and scrutinized the creature and the surroundings to get a reading on the situation.
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Post by Krakenbox on Jun 21, 2021 15:14:43 GMT -8
The Arcadian Gravewight's eyebrow cocked at the prompt, asking for Riley to produce proof of the summons. The Moth flashed the paperwork that had been provided by Bastille, not signaling that they were interested in the box that Wayland was protecting to be opened or the paper taken away. Archie watches with a nervous eye, looking for any hint that this entity was looking to trick and deceive, however she just appeared surprised, as if duties had been interrupted. Between the way chains flickered around her person to unseen hounds and neurons of the city, the map of unseen detail, and her decided lack of mechanical aesthetic; both Gavin and Archie could guess that this was more the city's chamberlain, who at this point was happy to field the concern before Riley was politely insistent. "The Goblin King? Are you sure?" there was a cruelness that would have gone undetected if the pair weren't looking for it. She seemed very entertained with the idea. Descending the steps, the claws of her fingers stretches, trailing black smoke like the great wings of a bat as she clawed ash from the floor. In spun into a sweeping eddies in a loud gust that twinkled unseen metal. The sounds of gears and clattering echoed quietly in the distance, and she gestured for them to continue forward without her. The stillness and silence was uncanny, before the dragging of a chain caused them to look up to see a large safe sailing down towards them in a free fall, before a loud bag jerked it into a swinging stop—dangling and idly spinning from the force just inches from the ground. The links around the edge started to smoke and glow, before fading.
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Post by Wayland on Jun 23, 2021 13:04:04 GMT -8
Sometimes, to get things done right, you’ve got to swallow your pride, ignore your discomfort, and just keep putting one foot in front of the other. That’s been the whole journey for Wayland so far. It rankles that she hasn’t been able to help. She’s kept quiet, after reuniting with the rest of the party; better for everyone if the Huntsman takes her for a simple porter. Information is ammunition, and she doesn’t want it to have any more to use against her than it’s already got. So she plays one of the stereotypical Ogre roles; the mute muscle. Following in the footsteps of the rest of her party without hesitation or complaint. Burying every unhelpful impulse, intrusive thought, and dissatisfaction that occurs to her.
She does keep her eyes out. She’d be a fool not to, even with the supposed protection of the Huntsman. She watches for threats, for anyone that might be following them, looks out on the path ahead for dangers or ambushes. But not just these. She keeps an eye on the vendors they’re passing too, and the landmarks nearby. Her first priority is keeping her motley as intact as she can, followed closely by completing the mission Bastille gave them, but there is a third. She has uses for the Goblin Market as any Freeholder might; Hedgespun and Tokens and Goblin Fruits, items to purchase or recipes and lore to barter for. Maybe something that could help them if another revenant crisis occurred. And always, always ingredients to satiate her Making hunger.
(The sound of hammer striking anvil echoes like a heartbeat in her ears.)
But she keeps her silence, schools her face to composure, all the long way during their descent. Even as the things they witness turn bizarre and disturbing. She occupies her mind with the whys and hows of it all. Puzzling upon the hidden meanings, the requirements and the taboos being observed, the hungers being satiated, the protocols being followed. Information is ammunition. She’ll take what’s freely offered. Though with healthy respect, lest what she’s given blow up in her face.
When the safe drops down from the ceiling, she checks an impulse to grab Archie and Riley and yank them away from it’s point of impact. Thankfully it was never going to hit them. But she has to check another impulse; this time to reach out and steady the spinning, suspended object; bad idea to touch what you don’t understand.
She watches, and waits. Trusting Riley and Archie.
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Riley Sorsa
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Presence (3) Captivating | SL(1) Stylish Mantle (2)Spring | Status(1) Entertainment
Posts: 913
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Post by Riley Sorsa on Jun 25, 2021 10:08:22 GMT -8
The Bright one held a long pause as they gaze upon the Large, an ominous container. Riley wasn't sure what to do. Nothing had been said. Were they to greet the box? Open it?
Riley looks over their shoulder at the others for a moment with a quizzical look. Archie wasn't in a state to do talking; he had been jumpy the whole journey since the encounter with the Huntsmen. Taking in a breath, the moth collects themself before turning to the smoking and glowing box.
"Greetin's, we are emissaries from Las Vegas. We seek an audience with the Goblin King, Machina."
The moth bows their head respectfully. Wondering if the greeting would awaken whatever was inside. Or wait to see if further action was needed.
The hair on the moth's neck rose slightly; they had a bad feeling about this.
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Post by Gavin Graves on Jun 26, 2021 14:13:29 GMT -8
Gavin continued to be circumspect about the object. It would have been a rather alien presentation of a Hedge Denizen if the safe was actually the King--it would not have been an unknown occurrence though. Perhaps it merely contained the Monarch, but how would it control and rule its domain from within this box with only a few chains to convey its complex whims. It was mechanical in nature, at least from reports, and that would make computer cables less expected. No cables were seen on the initial approach.
As the others addressed the safe like it was the King, Gavin approached and circled the swinging case wrapped in chains. Getting a closer look he then followed the path of the chains up into the darkness, his feral eyes allowed uncanny sight unhindered by the gloom. He expected this was yet another layer of defense. Far fewer assailants would be able to access the King against its desires if it had a limited capacity elevator of sorts that was the only nonmagical means of accessing its chamber, he surmised.
It wasn't too bold of a leap.
Reaching out his hands, careful to not apply claws in the case he was wrong, he settled the motion of the safe with a few counter-balancing heaves. The apparently heated chains were avoided out of prudent self-preservation.
After a moment, he knocked on it, checking for telltale signs of contents or the hollowness he was expecting.
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Post by Krakenbox on Jun 28, 2021 23:10:06 GMT -8
Gavin wasn't sure what he was hearing—until he realized the ringing was his own thundering pulse adding sense to the white noise. Knuckles wrapped against metal, nothing echoing or clanking with the sturdy material...even with his superior hearing. "Oh, I don't think I've ever been hugged," a booming Australian voice echoed from inside the safe as Gavin steadied it. The sound was so unexpected from what his senses told him, he leaned back as if slapped on the nose. The chains whipped and ground against unseen gears as the metal box almost landed on the Beast's toes with a heavy thud as he immediately stepped away. He heard heavy breathing from just over his shoulder, but a check proved nothing was there. A flash of liquid blinked a few times until Gavin could see the whites of an eye staring from the keyhole. "Emissaries of Las Vegas, and conscripted guests of the Torchlight Rogue," it said in another voice, with an Arabic accent this time. After a quiet snicker, the voice dropped—flat and modulated. "You seek the business of Hobs, and that is my domain. You would like something, I am to assume."
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Post by Wayland on Jun 30, 2021 22:32:58 GMT -8
Wayland has tried very hard not to second guess Gavin on this expedition. He’s their Hedge-guide, the expert, she figures he knows best. But she also figured he would be cautious enough not to lay hands on the ominous chain-bound coffin! She’d been worried about the wrong people! It’s Gavin she should’ve been ready to yank back away from that thing! She checks the movement, muscles tensing as her jaw clenches, staying put even as the box begins to speak.
Nothing’s going smooth. Why doesn’t anything ever go smooth?
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Riley Sorsa
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Presence (3) Captivating | SL(1) Stylish Mantle (2)Spring | Status(1) Entertainment
Posts: 913
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Post by Riley Sorsa on Jul 1, 2021 14:43:01 GMT -8
Riley wasnt to keen on being called a conscripted guest. But there wasn't a much worth to argue that point.
The Moth glances towards Wayland and Gavin. The surprise of Gavin touching the box quickly passed as Riley realized it was time to start talking. They give Archie a brief glance only to see he was still as jumpy as had been in the journey down.
"Greetin's " Riley repeats, trying to focus on the gleaming eye in the keyhole.
"We do seek business with the hobs. We have come on behalf of our sovereigns in hopes to establish trade between the Market and our freehold. The exact nature of this agreement has been written down and to be delivered with the offerings from our Freehold"
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Post by Deleted on Jul 1, 2021 14:57:50 GMT -8
The Chatelaine stood by, letting the Moth take the spotlight for the moment - they knew how to dance it better than he did. He measured their words, making sure that there was no stumbling on what the nature of their task was. More or less it was as they had described and he stood ready to cease any manipulations which may come from the other side of the table, or worse from the Lantern’s light which had his heart beating.
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Post by Gavin Graves on Jul 1, 2021 15:47:00 GMT -8
"Blow me down! Fuck! Sorry, sorry, sorry." Caught completely by surprise, Gavin scrambled away from the being blathering his apologies, fleeing to social cover behind the other Lost. His cheeks had flushed bright red and he was unmistakably embarrassed. His eyes wide and manic in movement, their focus followed the back and forth with the conversation as it started up thirsty for a read on how badly he'd messed things up for the others. Keeping quiet for a bit, he let the people with proper decorum handle things from then on. Apparently you couldn't take a beast anywhere.
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Post by Krakenbox on Jul 6, 2021 11:34:00 GMT -8
Gavin looks to the eye, looking for a squint, or maybe the box shaking. It rolled up and locked with his gaze, blinking normally as the King didn't respond.
"...Well?"
There was another beat, as Riley quickly produced the document and bent to show the eye to scan like it they were presenting a warrant through a peep hole.
"I suppose I shall need to use my hands."
A loud crash ensued, chains whistling as a snakelike machine uncoiled, humanoid torso with multiple arms brandished rusted scimitars, scraping and unfurling like wings. The King grumbled as more grinding and clicking ensued from around and within, blades swapping to articulated hands from the swiss-army pocket of the mechanical forearms.
Six hands present themselves, waiting.
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Riley Sorsa
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Presence (3) Captivating | SL(1) Stylish Mantle (2)Spring | Status(1) Entertainment
Posts: 913
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Post by Riley Sorsa on Jul 8, 2021 14:16:12 GMT -8
The unfurling of the mechanical king, grates in Riley’s Ears. They twitch slightly trying to mask their response. The darkling takes a step back allowing space for the blossoming mechanisms. THey swallow before looking at Archie, Gavin and Wayland.
The Moth gave a nod to Wayland than. It seems it was time for the delivery, unless any of their companions said otherwise.
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