Sigil: City of Doors

Strader approached Beringe in the hideout where they looked upon an unconsious woman who looked rather dazed by a drugged poison, Strader gripped Diana by the jaw sharply as the other woman yelped, there was no light in the room.

"Your Harmonium has failed you, abbandoned you, and its only a matter of time before you abbandon them. Tell us what we want to know, Diana, and we'll let you go, this entire incident will have never happened."

Diana stared at her coldly, spitting in her face... Beringe nodded, and Strader producing a kris, ran it swiftly across Diana's cheek in turn, slicing it open, cleanly, and thinly.

Diana yelped in agony even more so when Strader thumbed the wound harshly to worsen its pain.

"Well? It brings me no pleasure doing this to you, but if you stand loyallty to your cause I will stand loyally to mine and do what I can to bring you down my dear."

"To the hells with you and the Anarchists, Might makes Right.... I am Factotum Diana "The Guardian", Measure of the Harmonium-"

She woman continued to speak to herself as if dutily informed to repeat these words in such a crisis, Strader grinned cruely and clicked her fingers.

A Mindflayer was braught before them as Diana stared forwards, contineuing to chant desperatley as she felt the horrid tendrils touch her hair, her eyes trembled.

"We havent fed this one in some time.... Diana, we dont actually need you alive, but if you die that intelegence will be wasted. But we have ways of extracting it, painfully."

Diana stared at the roof, she knew, she was going to die, her eyes trembled and tears weeped, but then, the door shot open... and inside the room to the surprise of Strader and Beringe... a figure emerged at the entrance, with the dim-lit Under-Sigil lights beaming their radience...

Strader's eyes widened and Beringe watched intreagued, Strader waved her hand.

"Kill the intruder!"

Two Revolutionaries approached the intruder, one with a knife, another with a club, but swiftly, the intruder procuced a twisted blade, with one stroke, cauterising both the knife-blade and the club from its haft.
The Intruder then pointed the sword at both figures who stepped back pensivly.

"I have not come here to kill you... but you will not harm the girl."

Diana felt the Illithids tendrils wrap aronud her skull as its teeth prepaired to dig into her head, only to be halted firmly by Strader as the creatre growled ferally, barley restrained by strong Anarchist thugs.

"Speak then, what do you want, and speak truthfully, this entire area is rigged and no matter how fancy your sword, you wont escape the blast, I promise that."

The figure let the sword lay flatly along the floor, trailing it through the Under-Sigil concreate like paper as it left a dark trail through the molted skin of the ground below.

The figure was hooded, and wore a single mask with a bright red T junktion visor..., the left side of the visor was cracked... exposing a single glowing eye, the iris was bright red, the rest, was black...

Strader looked to her comrade pensive, but Beringe simply let her do the talking today. Strader approached while stroking the Illithid, then waved her hand as it was boxed away again, sealed in a tight adamantine cage enchanted and warded to keep it well held in place.

"I come to you with an offer you cannot refuse, Revolutionaries..... ..a chance for freedom to prosper in Sigil like it has never done before."

Now, Beringe interjected, amoung one of his many disguises, he wore the face of Shark today, taking on a sharp accent.

"Looks like we got another barmy in the creek, lads... eyes on him Dove... ...I want him watched closley. Get the spellslingers and ready a firing squad, I want this mess cleaned up boys."

Beringe had heard enough, he turned and prepaired to leave. The figures eye glowed brighter, from the back of its robe, two molting black wings formed.

"I know, who you are..., they say you are called The Shark... but I know you under another name... ..your true name. Factotum."

Beringe, halting on the spot, simply lazily glared at the floor as a group of spellslingers and crossbowmen arrived, considering the figures words, as the crossbows were raised, strader took out her own hand-crossbow and prepaired to fire, before he turned.

"WAIT!"

Diana watched the events confusedly herself, though captive, they had ignored her, she calmed her gaze and watched taking in what she could, when she was free, she'd report it all to her peers.

"Who are you.... what do you want and why have you come?"

"I want to prevent something just as you want to start something else. By helping you achieve your goals I also help myself to achieve mine..."

The figure produced something before Beringe, who glared at it with a moment of disbelief.

Diana tried to see what the man was looking at, but Strader moved into the way... she too, looked bewildered.

"Thats.. ...:" Strader started.

"...Not possible." Beringe finished, his tone dark and grim.

"It is, and what lays before you is but a taste of what is to come..."

The two looked at each other, and nodded. In the figures hand, was a glowing stone radiating with constant brilliant light.

Diana managed to spot a glimpse of it, her eyes widened with facination, not fear. What in Sigil was that she wondered? She had to get out of here.
Laboured struggling, she tried to silently begin pulling herself loose, but to no avail, fortunatley, the others didnt notice.

She tried twice, shuffling, she felt the chair she was tied to begin to move on a tilt, her eyes narrowed, she cursed herself, she grunted as the chair smacked over.

Needless to say, the others were alerted, the robed figure looked at Diana as she semed dazed from the fall, her eyes and vision spinning.

"You will not harm the girl.... ...but she cannot be allowed to remember what she has seen."

Beringe, understanding, nodded once to Strader, Strader approached the dazed Diana, and fed her something, her vision turned dark, as she fell unconsious.

Beringe turned to the mysterious figure and stared at him, he cooperated fully, but he wanted answers...

"So before you and I talk about why I shouldnt gut you for breaking into my hideout....

...How about we start with names...."

"Certainly..." Replied the figure...

"You may call me, The Shaper."



That, was six days ago..., since then, The Shaper had given Strader and Beringe a rather miraculas peice of technology, a cloning device that allowed them to create copies of themselves and other beings...

Seemingly, the Crystal had contained the blueprints, Strader and Beringe had found an efficent Revolutionary spellslinger to test it, and used Diana as a subject, the success prooved this device had a very potent function.

Now was the matter of being able to test the field experiment.

Three days ago, they set up the Harmonium, putting them into a trap where they used clones of Diana the Guardian to mislead them into following a wild-goose-chase, it was easy, they could use this to spend years milking the process.

However...

Strader during her confident attempt to create another clone noticed the visage of something in the mirror of her windows. The image of Harmonium patrolls.

Her eyes widened, they'd found them... she had to get out of here, hide the evidence, the experiments.

The newest clone looked at her dumbly, as she bagged it, putting it inside a crate.

That was last night.

When news reached her that earlier this night the clone was destroyed in a violent explosion having rigged the device to erupt, she grinned... it was going to be a dark day for the Harmonium, mourning their 'dead' Measure, this was a vicious symbol of victory to the Anarchists, it had not been without cost, though.

The Mercinaries had been crippled, and Phoenix, one of their own agents supposedly went missing during the battle, unaware he was being watched, Strader had long since sent her informats to keep tabs...

She knew how Kordiva would react however, and having heard the news of the riots and the broken blockade in the Hive, she knew business was no less booming than it ever was before.

If anything, this was no small victory...

This, was a triumph.

She poured herself a glass of wine, a rare treat, as she stroked her finger around the glass ringing it to the audiable sound of the humming, she stopped, and in the distance, she saw what was left of the building that had been damaged in the explosion collapse on itself.

Today, was a good day to be an Anarchist she thought to herself, proudly.

In the undersigil village a waddling, burned, dirty and very pissed off Vorgazar makes a big scene as Lyrgh the Gnoll Shaman and Waargh the Ogre carry themselves in behind him looking in just as bad a state.

"FOOKIN ANARGZITZ!!! I FOOKIN HATES DEMZ!!!"

More than anything the Warchief was bitter and humiliated at not only loosing, but being blown from the ladys ward to the Bazaar by the explosion and partially destroying Khazeets bar in the fall.

It appeared that the Iron tusk was now an anti-anarchy organisation. Unlike all the other enemies of the Anarchists these sods weren't law abiding and had no principles or rules. Perhaps there was a victory for the harmonium in this afterall.

Vorgazelle was thoroughly pissed off that the "fookin Anargzitz" had somehow managed to incapacitate her right before all the action started. She hadn't even gotten to smash any heads in!

She refused to think about the horrible visions she'd suffered, shaking and sweating unconscious on the ground outside the Harmonium barracks. No, no, no. They were too terrible to remember. They most certainly did not involve a Guulra, nor did they involve any time when she used to be Vorgazar. Not at all.

That's what she told herself, and if anyone asked her about it, she'd punch them in the face.

Finally having some time for himself, Fargul sits down in the big armchair in his office. He looks down at his leg and frowns.

"No payment, the lass blew up and I got a bad leg for a couple of weeks... Great success."

Then he thought about the entire story for a while. After a good hour he came to a conclusion.

"That yellow bastard's sooo gonna pay fer dis. Ohhh I gonn' make him bleed!"

But first he had to endure his pains, with a grimace, whilst drinking an entire bottle of wine in his office.

Phoenix was finally homeÂ… He had spent the last couple of days holed up in an Orphanage within the Hive. He had found safety and hospice at the mercy of an unexpected, if only temporary, ally. He had been kept hidden and anonymous.

The self assigned mission had not gone well. They had failed to deliver the package and were laid low by the Harmonium allied planewalkers in the end. A great deal of damage had been doled out, not only to the Revolutionaries and their allies, but also the city streets around them. It wasnÂ’t a good ending at all. Phoenix recalled the battle with the winged demonÂ… and her accursed Axe. He could barely pierce her armor and her blade cut through his leathers with ease. His luck was just awful that nightÂ… he wasnÂ’t even quick enough to escape on his ownÂ… she was just too quick.

One of his allies had managed to drag him away during the chaosÂ… thankfully. He had no doubt that had he been captured and his identity found, he would be in the deadbook. They wouldnÂ’t risk waiting for a long trial and suchÂ… too tempting for supporters to act out. It would be capture, trial and executionÂ… in the same night.

It was unfortunate that the payoff for the mercenaries didnÂ’t happenÂ… so Phoenix knew he had to make it right. He had already paid the Chaosman, gave him that pouch with all the gems he had. It wasnÂ’t a huge amount but satisfied him none the less. He was going to have to sell most of his spare gear, and track down the others, to ensure they were paid as wellÂ… not out of any feeling of fairness but knowing that if he had any chance of calling on them in the future then debts needed to be settled beforehand. All would, somehow, be compensated.

This effort cost him a great deal of pain and injuryÂ… and will also cost him most of his wealthÂ…

No one ever said fighting for freedom was going to be easyÂ… and certainly not cheap!