The Silver Sphinx

 

“The bizarre activities of the Xaositects over the recent months can now be understood. The first clue came when the Xaosmen themselves stopped referring to their construction as “the surprise!” and started calling it “the spoke”. Combined with the sheer size of the construction, it seems that the Xaositects have decided to provide the City of Doors with multiple spokes, like a giant wagon wheel. The first spoke is now almost 200 feet long. Why the Xaositects have suddenly decided to embark on a project of this magnitude is a mystery, probably even to themselves. The Godsmen in charge of the project, on the other hand, remain calm. When asked by SIGIS, Factor Ombidias explained that they would take on the project as long as the client - in this case, Factol Karan himself - wanted to pursue it further.”

Report on SIGIS

 

 

Second Void Day of Savorus, 126 HR

A bit nervously, Yelmalis drummed his fingers on the table while he let his eyes wander over his new companions who had gathered in his study. With the exception of Tarik - the Signer had not yet arrived. The yuan-ti Sekhemkare, dressed in an elegant green and gold doublet, leaned against the window and looked down at the streets of the Court District, perhaps hoping to spot the arrival of the tardy tiefling. Dilae, on the other hand, was sitting on the sofa with her legs crossed — she had decently taken off her boots— casually flipping through his Codex of Astral Projection and Transformative Thaumaturgy . Since she was a cleric of Eilistraee and – as a bard - a caster of intuitive magic, he suspected that as she knew little about these two subjects. Thus he had to assume that she was looking at the book mainly for its elaborate illustrations. Although she was obviously handling the thick tome with care, he still felt uneasy about it, because it was an old, now out-of-print and therefore quite precious edition. Nevertheless, the dark elf made him less nervous than Garush. The amazon was standing at one of his shelves and had taken out his thermometric locator, which she was now turning back and forth in her hands, while she frowned at the device.

He cleared his throat apologetically. “Garush, could you ... please put that down?”

The amazon raised an eyebrow and pushed her tusks forward a little. “Are you afraid I'll break something?”

“Yes,” he replied too quickly and immediately bit his lip. “Well, no, but these are delicate devices and ...” He took a deep breath. “Well, actually yes.”

“Hm.” The half-orc shrugged and nodded. “Justified concern.”

To Yelmalis’ relief, she put the thermometric locator back in its original position and didn't seem to have taken offense at his comment either. He had to grant the amazon that much: One could talk to her as directly as she herself approached others. She moved away from the shelf and circled Yelmalis' monodrone familiar F-45, who now scampered over and used one of its wings to push the locator back to exactly the right position on the board.

The amazon watched the small, spherical modron, shook her head and then turned her yellow eyes to the door impatiently. “Where is the Signer?” she asked, snorting.

Sekhemkare pursed his lips a little, which Yelmalis had learned to interpret as a kind of grin. ”Perhaps he first has to imagine how to find his way here.”

Although the air genasi found the Signer philosophy admittedly eccentric, he still felt he had to protect Tarik from the yuan-ti’s mockery in his absence. But before he could retort, Dilae came to his aid.

“Not very nice, Sek,“ she said reprovingly, without looking up from the illustrations in the Codex of Astral Projection and Transformative Thaumaturgy.

“Being nice hasn't made anyone rich,” the yuan-ti replied dryly.

Yelmalis shook his head. “Because that's all that matters in life.”

“Take a look into the Hive,” Sekhemkare objected. ”Then you can see for yourself whether it matters or not.”

The young wizard raised his hands in defense. “Yes, of course life is hard and ugly when you have nothing. I meant that money isn't everything that counts.”

“I didn't say that, did I?” The yuan-ti’s tongue darted out briefly between his lips. “Of course there are other things.”

“Now I'm curious,” Garush interjected with a hint of sarcasm.

“Power,“ Sekhemkare replied without hesitation. “Influence. Prestige. Knowledge, if you like, Guvner. Everything you can achieve and that is important to you. And then you should neither be ashamed of striving for it nor of having achieved it.”

“I'm with you,” Dilae agreed. “As long as you don't do it in an immoral way.”

The amazon growled softly. “Your philosophical drivel won't bring the Signer here either.”

“By the way, he has a name,” Yelmalis interjected annoyed. “He is called Tarik.”

“Yes, whatever. Tarik.” Garush frowned and looked at the air genasi with irritation. “By the Lady, what are you being so bitchy today?”

Yelmalis had to catch his breath. “Bitchy? Now, that's just ... I'm bitchy?” He folded his arms across his chest. “You're in my house and you're messing everything up. You have eaten all my nut bread, so I have to go to the market later, because my brother is coming for breakfast tomorrow and I have nothing left. You make fun of my familiar and you have just ruined the fine-tuning of my thermometric locator. But I'm bitchy?”

Now Dilae looked up from the Codex of Astral Projection and Transformative Thaumaturgy . “Oh, I'm sorry about the bread. You could have said something.”

“The one slice you ate wasn't the problem,” the genasi replied with a sigh.

“Ah.” She nodded with relief and turned her attention back to the book, while Garush shrugged.

“Sorry, I was hungry. And I didn’t know that your devices are so sensitive. But I said not a single word about your monodrone.”

“No, that was Sekhemkare,“ Yelmalis admitted.

“I only suggested that you send the modron to get the bread,” the yuan-ti replied. “And I added that if it is as hollow as most monodrones, it might as well use itself as a bread box to keep it fresh. That was a joke, by the way, Mr. Lawyer.”

“However, the comment was not correct,” F-45 said. ”The inside of monodrones is by no means hollow, but contains numerous different components. Each modron has a mixture of biological and mechanical parts, the extent of which depends on its position in modron society. Lower-ranking modrons have more integrated mechanical components than higher-ranking modrons. However, I can say with certainty that no modron, regardless of rank, is suitable as a bread box.”

Dilae laughed as F-45 responded to Sekhemkare's comment in its own special way. “You're so sweet, F-5,” she said.

“First correction: My name is F-45,” the monodrone replied politely. ”Second correction: My outer shell is made of a copper-iron alloy and will therefore not taste sweet, but metallic and slightly bitter.”

Yelmalis smiled as Dilae enthusiastically stroked F-45’s spherical outer shell. But before he could say anything, there was a knock at the door. That should be Tarik, at last. The wizard went to the door with relief and indeed it was the tiefling from the Sign of the One. Yelmalis had the impression that the Signer seemed a little agitated, but first he invited him in and led him to the study where the others were waiting.

Garush promptly pushed her tusks forward. “Ah, you’ve arrived.”

“Yes, I know I'm late,” Tarik apologized. “And I'm sorry, but I just barely escaped with my life, so ...”

Dilae immediately closed the codex and looked at the tiefling with concern. “Do you mean that figuratively or literally?”

“Oh, unfortunately I mean it very literally,” Tarik replied with a sigh. ”I was just about to go to the nearest cab station in the Guildhall Ward when suddenly a bebilith came towards me! And let me tell you, it didn't look like it knew – or even respected – the laws of Sigil.”

Yelmalis widened his eyes. “A real bebilith? By the Lady ...”

“Yes, I was pretty scared too.” Tarik ran a hand through his black hair and still looked a little disheveled. ”It was only two or three steps away from me. Fortunately, it didn't attack me, but moved quite purposefully towards the Great Gymnasium.”

“And what did you do?” Garush wanted to know.

The tiefling shrugged. “Well, I ran in the other direction, what else?”

“What?” The amazon growled a little. ”Didn't you try to stop it?”

Dilae coughed at this question and Sekhemkare also gave the half-orc a doubtful look.

Tarik frowned. “Hey, I'm a member of the Signers, not of the Harmonium and not of the Mercykillers. No, I didn't try to stop it. Am I crazy?”

“You did exactly the right thing,” Yelmalis said, shaking his head towards Garush. “Only someone out of his mind would have taken on that beast alone.”

The amazon merely grumbled and waved it off, while Yelmalis offered Tarik a chair, which the tiefling accepted gratefully. The air genasi poured him a glass of water, then took a seat opposite him and Dilae put aside the Codex of Astral Projection and Transformative Thaumaturgy - very cautiously, to Yelmalis' relief. Garush and Sekhemkare also approached.

“So,“ Yelmalis said. “Now that we are all here, we should get to the actual topic of our meeting.”

“Yes.” The half-orc nodded curtly. “The Keeper and the Proclaimer – whoever they are.”

She gave Tarik a meaningful glance and he raised his hands apologetically. “I'm sorry, I can only reiterate that I don't know that either. My dreams show me certain things, but they are neither a reference book nor an information letter from which I can simply extract everything. I can only say that I saw a human man and a female lupinal and that we apparently have to go to the Plane of Ice.”

Sekhemkare let out a soft hiss. “I'm not particularly thrilled about having to go to the Plane of Ice.”

“I can understand that.” Dilae nodded sympathetically. “But with Planar Tolerance and a crate of fire potions, it should work.”

“You warm-blooded say that so lightly,” the yuan-ti replied with a hiss that sounded like a sigh. “But yes ... it will work, I guess.”

“Good.” Garush nodded. ”Then let's plan our little excursion: What equipment do we need? Which portal do we use? And when do we leave?”

Yelmalis opened the drawer of his desk and took out a sheet of paper to take notes, while the others already talked across each other. Everyone except Tarik, who gave him a knowing smile. The Signer seemed to intuitively understand why Yelmalis was tense and why the situation caused him stress. Perhaps because he was very empathetic, or perhaps because he felt the same way. However, Yelmalis was glad to have found someone in Tarik who apparently understood him.