Lady's Grace, cutters!

 

“Of course, everything collapses over time.

The philosophy of the Doomguard, for example.”

author of The Factol's Manifesto

 

 

Second Guild Day of Retributus , 126 HR

Rakalla leaned against the corner of a house on Arcadia Boulevard and scowled over the edge of her dark-tinted glasses. More precisely, she looked daggers at the Barracks, not without homicidal ideation. Everything they had to snaffle, the bloody Hardheads. Eliath was in there now, and who knew when they would let him go. A few days earlier, in the evening, she had seen him leave the Black Sails with a few people. Two humans - a man and a woman - a tiefling, a half-elf and some white-haired chick, whatever she was. Rakalla had followed them, had seen them go into a house near the Great Foundry. After a while, she'd gotten tired of waiting and had slipped an imp a bit of jink to keep an eye on the house. The next morning she had stopped by again, but according to the greedy little monster, Eliath had not left the house, unlike the tiefling and the human man. And indeed, she had soon seen the now smaller group leave again. She had been about to speak to them, to ask Eliath directly why he was suddenly hanging around with them. But something had held her back. A vague suspicion that the other group might have similar interests in Eliath as she did. A hunch that she shouldn't draw suspicion to herself. The fact that the three of them had taken Eliath to the Barracks, where the tiefling and the human had also reappeared, had not been pleasant, of course. Even less pleasant was the fact that the human guy apparently belonged to the Harmonium. That was all she needed. Several days had now passed since Eliath had been taken to the Barracks and he still didn’t come back. Of course, it was possible that he had simply not returned to the Armory. But he hadn't been to his apartment either, which Rakalla had been watching since then. The medusa was at odds with herself and her indecision. Sure, she could go to Pentar. Ever since it had become clear that she played a role in that strange prophecy, she had had a much more direct line to the factol than she would have liked. As an Observer, she didn't have too cordial a relationship with Pentar - and her factol, on the other hand, didn't hold Rakalla's neutral attitude towards entropy in high esteem. Still, she would have to work closely with her on this nebulous prophecy, and that alone was enough to put Rakalla in an irritable mood. She didn't want any more frictions, so maybe she should just tell Pentar that Eliath was in the Barracks. If he didn't come out soon, then the factol of the Hardheads could talk it out with Pentar in person, and that fun alone would have almost been worth it. But only almost ... Rakalla couldn't shake off the thought that Eliath didn’t want to join the Sinkers, not really. That vision of Lathander had made him think so, and he seemed to have his own doubts. Rightly so, as Rakalla had found even before Zamakis had reported what was going on on the Plane of Fire. The vampire had been rather terse, but had told enough to suggest that Eliath had joined the Doomguard for very different reasons than some unctuous words from the Morninglord. Rakalla liked Eliath and was worried about what Pentar might do to him. She hadn't told her factol about the conversation with Zamakis - but she didn't need to. Factor Trevant had certainly spoken to Pentar about it, as well as to Lhar and Karan. Unfortunately she would have more confidence in the hork and the gith than in her own factol when it came to Eliath. And that was all the more reason to be in a bad mood. So perhaps revealing where Eliath was wasn't the best idea either. Her indecision made her even angrier. Sometimes these days she wished she was back in Pelateia. The Beauty on the Hills. Or the Gorgon City, as some simply called it. But whatever name was chosen: her home. Her old home, before she had come to Sigil. The only planar metropolis inhabited almost exclusively by medusae and a few other scaled ones. Her mother was still there, as was her sister. Of course, not everything had been perfect there either. With her current problems in Sigil, she repressed the fact that there had also been good reasons to leave the city. But she missed the warmth. Situated at the border to Makshapuram, it was always sunny and hot there, something all medusae appreciated. Rakalla missed the sunbeams on her skin, laying her hands on the heated stone of the buildings and soaking up the warmth. Sigil was too often chilly and clammy, and though not really an ectotherm, as a medusa Rakalla felt stiffer, slower, more immobile in cool temperatures. The weather in Sigil alone was often a reason to be in a bad mood, the Hardheads were another. The annoying Ravagers in her own faction a third. And yet Sigil also had advantages - enough of them to keep her in the city, despite the inconveniences. Nowhere else could she get all the ingredients she needed as an alchemist as quickly and easily as here in a center of planar trade. Moreover, the city was so diverse, so lively and full of different species that there was something new to discover and experience every day, which appealed to Rakalla's innate inquisitiveness. Last but not least, her faction was strong here and offered her support. And of course she had also formed bonds and made friends in Sigil. The barbarian Lyssa, for example, or the tiefling Haer'Dalis. She wouldn't really call Eliath a friend yet, but she liked him. She felt responsible for him in a strange way. And then, since recently, there were the others. Not from her own faction, but from factions close to hers. Zamakis was a vampire and not easy to judge, but something about the stoic way she never let herself get worked up appealed to Rakalla. It was a sometimes appreciated counterpoint to her own impulsive, quick-tempered nature. The minotaur Blackhoof was quite sociable for a Bleaker, yet calm and even-tempered as long as one didn't provoke him unnecessarily. He gave the impression of someone who would go through hell and high water for his friends, and even if he hadn't revealed much about himself yet, she believed that she could trust him to a certain extent. And then there was ...

"Hey, why are you standing there, pouting?"

Krixxi. Exactly. Rakalla liked the fey-blooded mechanic with the pink hair. She was adorable and built great things, but her fidgety goblin nature could also be annoying. Rakalla wasn't quite sure why the Xaositect was hanging around here, whether she was even looking for her and how she had found her. But now she was standing next to her, tugging at her sleeve, obviously pleased to have discovered her.

Krixxi's gaze wandered to her snake hair. "Hey, can I feed one of the snakes a mouse?"

Rakalla sighed. "They don't eat anything."

"No kidding?" Krixxi raised herself on tiptoes and stretched out her right hand curiously towards one of the snakes.

"No, but they can bite a finger off cheeky goblin girls."

Alarmed, the Xaositect pulled her hand back. Rakalla let her believe it so that she kept away from her hair. A quick glance at Figaro, who was now appearing behind Krixxi, told the medusa that he wasn't buying her story. He … a rooster. A beautiful, large rooster with white plumage and blue-green tail feathers. However, there were a few unusual features about him. For one thing, he had a mechanical right leg. Secondly, he wore welding goggles with green lenses and some other equipment on his body: a glass ampoule with a green liquid on his left leg, a leather tool belt with various utensils and an attachment with several pouches on his left wing. Overall, he made a rather striking and unusual appearance, even for Sigil.

"Hello, Rakalla," he greeted her.

She nodded and raised her right hand to give him a quick wave. Figaro was no ordinary rooster, but an awakened one, which meant that he had been given a significantly increased intelligence and a consciousness comparable to that of a humanoid through a spell. In fact, his intellect seemed to surpass that of many humanoids, as he had obviously learned the mechanic's crafts in a short time. He was Krixxi's constant companion - and apparently best friend. The two were a truly unusual pair, and together with them, Blackhoof and Zamakis, Rakalla formed a group well worthy of the Cage, she thought. Why they formed this group ... Well, that was another question and one none of them had a real answer to yet. Their factols had found the fragments of an ancient prophecy and had therefore decided to work together on a matter related to a so-called God Machine. They had heard of people having strange dreams in the Hive and suspected that one of them might be the so-called Dreamer the prophecy spoke of. Apparently, however, that had been a false lead. At least, the Dustmen had uncovered a major problem within their faction. Good for them, but unfortunately that hadn't helped them any further with the question of the prophecy’s meaning.

"Do you want to go in there now and ask about Eliath?", Krixxi snapped Rakalla out of her thoughts.

The medusa looked down at her and snorted in displeasure. "Into the Barracks? Am I stupid?"

"But then why are you standing there scowling?" The goblin woman's eyes widened as she thought of a possible answer. "Uh-oh ... are you going to throw one of your alchemical bombs at them?"

"That wouldn't be a very good idea in broad daylight in the Lady's Ward," Figaro remarked dryly.

For a Xaositect, he was surprisingly level-headed and judicious. Perhaps, she thought to herself, he didn't belong to the faction at all, but just liked hanging out with a certain goblin.

Rakalla nodded at his words. "That's right. Besides, I'm neither a Ravager nor an Anarchist. I'm just annoyed right now."

"Let's go to Quake's bar for a drink," Krixxi suggested, unabatedly cheerful. "It'll take your mind off things."

Her well-intentioned and honest eagerness actually cheered Rakalla up and she pulled herself together. "You know what? You're right. Come on, let's go."

"Great!" The goblin woman clapped her hands. "We'll stop by the Gatehouse and ask Blackhoof if he'll come with us."

Figaro fluffed his feathers. "He'll have a fit if you turn up there again and annoy him."

"I'm not annoying him at all!" Krixxi replied, pouting. "He really likes me."

Rakalla had to smile. She had the impression that was actually true. Although Blackhoof often reacted strained to Krixxi, he also seemed to have a strong protective instinct towards her. And Figaro knew better than to insist, whereupon Krixxi's good mood immediately returned. So they turned their backs on the Barracks and made their way back to the Hive. Rakalla knew that she would have to talk to Pentar about Eliath at some point. But that day didn't necessarily have to be today.