SESSION 43A: SCOUTING PORPHYRY HOUSE
October 25th, 2009
The 23rd Day of Kadal in the 790th Year of the Seyrunian Dynasty
Porphyry House stood on one end of an open plaza in the Guildsman’s District near the Warrens facing a large, dilapidated open-air rotunda which stood along the Old Sea Road near East Street. It was an elegant, two-story structure constructed of dark purple and mauve porphyry. Minarets rose from each of the buildings’ four corners, and a central dome served as the roof. Its façade was decorated with several statues, bas-reliefs, and other carvings of handsome men and beautiful women (many of them striking a variety of lewdly suggestive poses).
The plaza itself was sparsely populated. A small band of jugglers was performing near the rotunda, and a few others were lazing here or there. No one seemed to be approaching the brothel itself (it was, after all, still the middle of the day), but a pair of guards – one male, one female, and both quite attractive – stood before the large pair of golden doors leading into Porphyry House. These guards were dressed in purple ceremonial full plate, which was both form-fitting and revealing of more skin than would normally seem practical. Their faces were masked by helmets with white porcelain masks depicting beautiful and handsome faces. The doors themselves were fully fifteen feet tall and featured detailed carvings depicting a frenzied orgy.
The party was impressed, but not daunted. Elestra transformed into a bird and performed a discreet aerial survey: She found no secondary entrances and no windows. Even the minarets appeared to be decoratively constructed out of solid rock. The only way in or out of the building seemed to be the front doors.
They thought about simply sending Agnarr through the doors looking for all the world as if he were a customer, but rejected the plan when they considered their fair degree of fame. If he was recognized by the cultists, that could horribly wrong.
“It might not work anyway,” Ranthir said. “They may not take walk-ins.”
“How do you know something like that?” Elestra asked, eying him up and down.
“I come from a city.”
“I come from a city,” Tee said. “I don’t know stuff like that.”
“They may not take customers at all,” Tor said. “I think the whole thing is a front.”
Ranthir agreed it was a front, “But to be one it must take customers. It would be suspicious if they turned away custom.”
Tee agreed. “And it probably makes a lot of money.”
Agnarr was glad the infiltration plan had been abandoned. “Tor and I could just sneak up on those guards and stab them from the side. They’ve got poor periphery vision in those helmets. They won’t see us coming.”
“Where did you learn a word like ‘periphery’?” Elestra asked, eying him up and down.
“What about everyone else in the plaza?” Tor asked. “Won’t they see us?”
“Not if we’re subtle.”
“So… everyone will notice?”
“Where did you learn a word like ‘subtle’?” Elestra asked.
They knew that Porphyry House was engaged in illicit as well as salacious trade, and they doubted the cultists were bringing that other business brazenly through the front door. That meant there must be a secondary, surreptitious entrance somewhere. Probably underground. Probably through the sewers.
They found a nearby sewer entrance at East Street and Hogshead and went down to explore. Unfortunately, they were right in the heart of the multi-layered interstice where the older sewer systems of the Warrens met the newer systems and it was all a chaotic, jumbled mess. If their senses of direction had held true, they eventually found their way to the area right beneath Porphyry House… but found nothing except a few impassable pipes which might (or might not) lead into the House.
ON HOLY BUSINESS
By the time they re-emerged from the sewers, evening was settling in and they were reminded that they had an appointment with Rehobath in the not-too-distant future. They decided they needed to leave and try again the next day, and on their way back to the Ghostly Minstrel laid out a plan to magically tunnel their way into the house from below (if they could figure out exactly where they should be digging).
At the Ghostly Minstrel they used the paving stones they had taken from the Temple of the Ebon Hand to quickly clean themselves, but didn’t worry themselves beyond the bare necessities (they were only meeting with Rehobath, after all). On their way through Oldtown, they took a short side-trip to the alley on Yarrow Street and spoke with Shim. They suspected that once the cultists learned that both the Temple of the Rat God and the Temple of Ebon Hand had been raided, their security precautions would skyrocket. They wanted to attack Porphyry House before that could happen, and the most effective way to do that was to find the cultists’ secondary entrance as quickly as possible. If anyone could do that, they felt it would be Shim. They introduced him to Nasira and got down to business.
“So let me get this straight,” Shim said when they had finished their explanation. “You want me to find a secret entrance to a brothel?”
“As quickly as possible, yes,” Tee said.
“And quietly,” Ranthir said. “We don’t want them to know we’re coming.”
“You’re looking for a discreet rush job on a whore house?”
“It sounds unsavory when you put it like that.”
“Could you keep using adjectives?” Shim said. “I like nice, expensive adjectives.”
They hashed out some surprisingly reasonable terms. Shim promised to bring them whatever he found first thing in the morning.
Throughout the conversation, however, Tor’s thoughts had been distracted by their upcoming meeting with Rehobath. They didn’t know what he wanted, but if their connection with Sir Kabel had been discovered then there was every possibility that they were walking into a trap.
So Tor asked Shim: “Do you have any idea why Rehobath might want to meet with us?”
“Fifty gold crowns.”
Tor shrugged and paid it.
“I’d guess it probably has something to do with your friend Dominic.”
Which it did.
They arrived at the Holy Palace to find it now staffed with servants in the livery of the novarch. The entire building was filled with a greater sense of pomp and circumstance than when Tor had first visited it only a few days before. They were led down a long hall upon a carpet of red and gold, passing between the great curves of two balustraded stairways, and through a door into the minimalist grandeur of Rehobath’s throne room.
When they arrived, Rehobath was surrounded by a number of functionaries. But he sent these away and spoke with them privately, keeping only a few guards at the far end of the hall.
“You have heard, I am sure, of what your friend Dominic has done?” Rehobath said, eyeing them with either suspicion or calculation.
The news was all over the city, so there seemed little risk in admitting it.
Rehobath gave them a report from one of his “house servants” (in other words, one of his spies). It detailed Dominic’s appearance in Empress Square the day before in much greater detail than the news reports they had been able to collect themselves.
“Did you know this was going to happen?” Rehobath demanded.
“Of course not,” Tor said.
“It doesn’t even sound like something that Dominic would say,” Tee said.
(“Well, maybe that last bit,” Elestra muttered.)
Rehobath looked sharply at her. “You think he may have fallen under the control of the traitors?”
“Perhaps,” Tee said. “Or it might not be Dominic at all. It could be an impostor. Or an illusion.”
“Yes…” Rehobath said, his eyes drifting into shrewd thoughtfulness. “That will serve… It might even be true.”
With a final nod, Rehobath changed the topic to the Banewarrens. They gave him a mildly edited account of their progress (particularly neglecting to mention the details of the legend lore spell Ranthir had cast). When Rehobath learned that they were waiting for a wish spell, however, he promised to expedite the matter with Heth Neferul.
From the moment they passed into the Holy Palace, Nasira’s nervousness had grown. Who, exactly, had she agreed to work with? And why did they seem so close to this freshly-minted novarch? Were they truly allies of Rehobath? But as their conversation continued, she became more convinced that the others were playing at some deeper agenda. At the very least, their travails together had instilled her with some trust of them. She would wait to hear their explanation.
Running the Campaign: It’s Gotta Be Here! – Campaign Journal: Session 43B
In the Shadow of the Spire: Index
