The Bladed Throne

S

Sir Basil

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Original poster
SIGILCITY.jpg

THE BLADED THRONE
She floated through the City of Doors, her head crowned with a series of knives and blades. People, huddled, frightened, watched from the doorways of their homes, watching with the many coloured eyes of a thousand races. The Lady of Pain commanded respect as he glided through the many twists and turns of the city of Sigil, her feet never touching the ground but rather, remaining one inch above it. She had protected the city for as long as anybody could remember. The city of Sigil and the Lady of Pain could not exist without one another - they would always be the Lady of grace and danger and the city that many believed was the only thing she had ever loved. The white spire of Sigil. The grey Lady. As inseparable as could be. Without her, the city would crumble, and without the city, she would cease to exist, with no faith or power to sustain her.
She glided to the heart of the city, the center of the Grand Bazaar. Devils and demons eyed her with the same interest as the divine host and archons. The Lady of Pain only showed her face rarely, but her face was enough to make even the most powerful of brawlers tremble, and show her respect. She was the reason that the wars of the other planes didn't over take the city. Even the primes, those mortal travelers who wandered the planes, knew better than to earn her wrath. Nobody spoke to her. She spoke to no-one. It was said that to hear her voice would rend even the boldest and most stalwart to insanity. She was, however, quite beautiful, if severe.
And then, she began to speak for the first time in what seemed like forever, Her voice was not like you might have expected it. It was light, silky, and the insanity that had been rumored didn't seem to play a role. What was interesting, however, was what she said - far more interesting than her voice. She didn't have to say much. After she said it, she disappeared, but her words rang in the head of any berk who had seen her, and every berk who hadn't;
"I abdicate. I, the Lady of this City, surrender my powers to the mercy of the Outlands. Gods preserve you."
The murmur that the Lady of Pain had gone, never to return, spread through the city. The factions that had fought so hard for their place despaired and rejoiced, and the citizens steadily began to be aware of a very important fact; the City of Doors was starting to be sold, piece by piece, to the highest bidder. And there were many powerful sorts who would like to get their hands on the beautiful city of legend and lore....



A strange knight burst through the door at a small pub in the City of Doors. The pub was dark, with hardwood booths with red cushions, and a heavy ornate bar with a red marble counter-top. The bartender was a burly orc of some kind, with small horns, who rubbed a wine glass with a towel vigorously. In the corner, a devil played piano - classic arrangements, primarily. A variety of couples and groups talked in hushed tones in all sorts of languages, from the bright words of Celestial to the dark musings of Infernal. The knight glanced around at the patrons, breathing heavily. He looked exhausted, as if he had been running for some time.

The truth was, he had been running for some time, running through the streets of Sigil, to find his friend and companion, to tell him of what had happened to the Lady of Pain. The whole city was humming with the news. The oddly dressed knight (his chainmail was black, and his armour was orange, almost like it had rusted) scanned the room. His companion would want to know, desperately. He ended up announcing it. The bar would find out soon enough.

"The Lady of Pain is gone."

This was met with boos, cheers, and stunned, shocked, silence.
 
"Gone? What for?" The beast-man spoke, rising and slowly moving through the throngs of others, forcibly pushing some out of the way, snickering as they rise to do something against him - then figuring out what he really was. The tiger-head and reverse hands of the being made it very obvious that the beast-man was a Rakshasa. The race was considered a manifestation of evil, even to demons and devils. He swishes his cloak, an impressive item made completely of black raven's feathers. His bluish-black breastplate glimmered slightly with the gold-silver decorations, signifying his profession to the world: a blackguard.

His weapon, the cursed blade called Infernal, sheathed at his side. It radiated evil, and the man stroked the hilt with a satisfied expression. His ears flicked - causing his hair to rustle slightly. "It's about time your found me, Cole. I mean, I did say that we'd meet in a tavern... guess I should have specified which tavern...?" He glanced around at the glares he was getting. He offered a grin to them - knowing that they could do nothing against him. "What? So the Lady of Pain is gone...?" He raises a hand, thumbing his whiskers at them, "That means the position is... open." He turns and nods at Cole. "Well then, I guess we have some planning to do, eh?"
 
Cole smiled at his monstrous companion, and shrugged a little, "I surely don't know why she left. She's the Lady of bloody PAIN, she doesn't tell me her inner most plans. He stepped up a little closer to his friend and compatriot, glancing up at him. He knew exactly what the rakasha was thinking. Dominance. The City of Doors, afterall, both a symbol and a city. Whoever controlled the Sigil controlled many thing - though Cole knew that the wards that the Lady had placed on the city would begin to fray and then, then the big boys would come down and try to take it ; Vecna maybe, or Asmodeus, trying to get a foothold for the Blood War. At this distance, Cole didn't look entirely as human as he previously had, out of the sides of his head, behind his ears, curled a pair of black horns. And on his hands, there was a black writing, runes and symbols of binding and protective magic that went up onto his arms like a henna pattern. He knew all this about the planes because he wasn't a prime - he was a planar, and had been living here for some time now. He was proud to say that he was no longer considered a berk. Well, most of the time.

He patted his Rakasha companion on the shoulder, "She just left, Xel. She said she was abdicating," He leaned against his beastman, "I wonder what would make her do that," He laughed, and began to walk to a shadowed booth, making gestures that suggested his friend come with him, so that they could talk in relative privacy and seclusion.
 
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Paia flicked inky bangs from her face, the serene porcelain beauty of her features settled in a fierce scowl. Word of the Gray Lady was traveling and the repercussions could only be imagined. The relative tranquility of the city would surely be lost without her; as for her, was this her suicide? Paia had heard tales that the Gray Lady and the city of her birth were the same entity, breathing each breath together. Without her, the city would crumble and without the city, surely she would die.

Red rimmed eyes opened to view the surrounding area, though there was little to see here in this tiny pub. Above the half-veil worn over her face, one could only see Paia's bloodshot eyes that were all red save for the ring of yellow iris in the center. Her red-lipped smile, so often described as cruel, was hidden behind gauzy black material and its delicately detailed hem. Paia lowered the veil slightly to sip from the yellow liquid in her glass.

Before the travelers could move further into a small booth, she gathered her diaphanous robes of trailing black and stood to speak with them. Unused to speaking, her voice was barely a rasp and her Common tongue was rusty as well when she tried to remember the words that she wanted to say.

"You have traveled, young man? Is there any more word of her Ladyship?"
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"Traveled?" The rakshasa tilted his head back and lets put a truely vile laugh. Raising a backwards-facing hand, he sticks a thumb out at Cole, "This guy hardly wandered more than a mile from the Lady since he got here. Doesn't the armor tip you off?" Prodding at his friend's armor with a finger. "He's a Blade Knight. The only thing keeping him from becoming a Blade Prince was me."

"So yeah, I'm sure he's got plenty of news about your 'Lady'. As for me, I hardly stopped traveling. More planes out there, after all. More famous cities within those planes. The only one i've actively avoided it is City of Brass on the Elemental Plane of Fire." He grimaces. Fire always made him irritable... And it made his fur wilt. Instinctively running a hand over his own cheek, he smiled as he felt the fluff of it. Said hand moved to stroke his chin, giving the image of a man stroking a goatee.

Wrapping an arm about the other man's waist, he frowned as their respective armors formed a barrier. He sighed, taking that hand away to idly feel the material of his cloak... A habit he recently gained, something Cole knew was something he did as he contemplated strategy. Better than when he used to chew things around him foe inspiration. Those rakshasa teeth aren't pleasing to the skin.
 
The Blade Knight shrugged, and tapped the Rakasha on the nose, glancing over at the cloaked woman. She was a suspicious sort in some ways - the cloak and veil, but many in the City of Doors exhibited a desire to hide what they were. He was one of the relatively human looking planars, so he had no need for it - though many were twisted by their home plane or tinged with wild magic. Cole wondered what her interest in the Lady of Pain's disappearance was, but then again, he supposed it was of interest to many people for a variety of reasons. He just wish he knew what this strange lady wanted from Her. He looked at Xelvori and bit his lip, knowing that his bestial companion was contemplating how best to take what he wanted. Power.

"Yes," He said to the woman finally, "The Lady of Pain is gone. Why? I don't know. Nobody knows. Where has she gone? Who knows," He shrugged a little, and his armor clanked as he did, the black chainmail clinking against his rusted breastplate, "She left and now the city doesn't have much a of a defense - just the remains of her councilmen and bits of her congress, but they never did anything useful to begin with - too busy arguing to get anything done," Cole tilted his head to the side, "I heard that they're trying to scry on her, but the Lady's too powerful and too cautious to let that happen." He ran a hand through his short dark hair, "Let her leave. The city will need a new protector - but I think new management can be found." He grinned a little.
 
"Staying in the city be the fools, and the wisest leaving for the land that is Anduul's." Voiced a man hunched over against the wall clad in a tattered, and torn faded blue robe with a matching cloak of heavy cloth, with a drooping hood hung forward shielding his face from the pub's light. "Oh this bodes well for forces unknown, with not a one to take the lady's throne." He continued in rhyme, and clapped his hands revealing the numerous runes that were etched into his blue skin. Lifting his head ever so slightly, the dim light from the fireplace did place it's light just ever enough to reveal the bandages around the man's eyes should those present be looking that intently.

"Let us drink this wash of ale, and let us wonder... if we shall prevail." Gijar seemed to almost whisper as he took his mug from the table next to him, and greedily guzzled it down, and clapped his hands once more noting the rise in concern from some of the other patrons... the noticeable signs of worry. If this was what to expect in the times to come, then the city would surely fall to it's aggressors... and it had a great many who eyed her hungrily from the other side of her great walls.

With the crowd read, and a slight smile creeping across his face, the Elf flagged down a waitress who was more than willing to refill his mug due to the coin he'd spent so far. His covered eyes seemed to rest upon the Blade Knight, and his Rakasha companion for a moment... as if from behind the cloth bandages, the Mage was carving through their souls in a sophisticated moment of dissection. It would feel most uncomfortable, and just as soon as the feeling arose, it quickly vanished... his clothed eyes having drifted off to other person's of interest... Paia. Laughing out loud to himself moments later, Gijar clapped his hands once more, with sparks igniting from each clap, falling harmlessly to the floor.

He seemed absolutely insane.
 
Xelvori turned, gazing at the other man. The 'gaze' of the cloth bandages was unnerving, and his gaze turned into a scowl. For a moment, he contemplated a 'Detect Thoughts' spell on the man. The invasion of privacy wasn't beyond the Rakshasa, and it would have satisfied his curiosity. Still, this was the City of Doors. The possiblity of creatures more powerful than even he, a rakshasa blackguard, could exist here saved his spell.

That, and he considered the thought of gazing into a supposively insane man's mind to be a terrible waste of a spell.

He decided instead to turn to Cole with a monstrous grin. "New management indeed." Lowering his head, he plants a whiskery kiss upon the planetouched's cheek, quickly turning to walk towards the booth again, swishing his cloak of raven's feathers dramatically. Already his mind worked in patterns, in tricks and strategies... upon reaching the booth, he sat down, uncomfortably adjusting his armor and waiting for the other man, tapping his backwards-facing hands upon the table.
 
All of a sudden, the door of the tavern flew open again, and the golden manufactured sunlight streamed into the tavern. Four men, wearing similar armour to Cole, peered in - and then shuffled in a circular formation. They broke the formation to stand on either side of the entry way, revealing a tall, broadly built man. The man was dressed in the orange, slightly rusted armour but instead of having any sort of chainmail, he was dressed entirely in the orange plate. He wore a black armband, however, around one of his meaty, armoured arms. The man had light brown skin, and a well kept beard and mustache, with heavy eyebrows and dark, button like eyes. He stared at the patrons of the tavern, as he he did, Cole jumped to attention, giving the man a salute.

The heavily armoured man just stared at him, and took a few steps deeper into the inn. He waved his hand, and his troupe of four guards left the tavern, closing the door behind them with a slam. The orc bartender set down his glass and nodded his head towards the armoured man, "What can I do you for, lord?" The imposing figure said nothing, but rather looked towards the young knight, the rakasha, the half veiled woman, and the blindfolded man. He took a few steps closer the the little band, and the young knight still stood at attention, standing completely upright. The man approached him and Cole spat out the words, "Commander Swan, sir!" The commander just looked at him, and glanced at the rakasha, and finally said something, "Interesting company, you keep, Blade Knight Cole." He glanced at the two others, half veiled and half hooded, "Interesting company indeed," His tone was condescending and sharp.
 
The lost echo of a mug being placed on the table was only heard by it's holder. the first thing that caught your attention was his hair. long and sliver that shined in the moonlight and sun giving on the radiance only a god should see. tied in a messy pony tail it reached to the back of his grey shirt and nearly to his leather black pants. his eyes glowed amber with a hidden fire of power and knowledge. his name was Alexander Aesuto a fighter for hire despite his tender age of 19. he sat in one the back corners of the bar listening to the boo and shouts." so the lady of pain is gone huh?". he thought to himself as he drained his mug and look to a waitress coming to his table."another one please and get me a bowl of stew while your at it". he told her. his voice was different a clear one but with the added roughness of a changing body around it. she moved on to get his order as he thought over the rumors he had heard so far." if the lady of pain is gone then how long before this city crumbles? i better find some work quick and get of this place before things get ugly".

the waitress came back with his order and he gave her a nice little tip of gold coins. he grabbed the mug and took a swig of his drink. savoring the taste of the nectar that was pretty much destroying his liver he grabbed the spoon and shoveled in some of the hot steaming stew. it was better then he expected but no master work still it gave him a warming feeling inside as he ate. he turned his amber colored eyes to the doors opening as the one and only Commander Swan walked in to address the Blade Knight Cole". Alexander had a bad run in with such Commander a few weeks ago. he was nearly arrested for killing a thief he was hired to take out by a anonymousness benefactor."maybe he won't see me if a be real quite and try to sneak out". he thought as he slowly lowered his spoon and shifted lightly out of towards the opposite end of his booth away from the Commander.