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The Civic Festhall (Clerk's Ward)

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The Civic Festhall (Clerk's Ward)

RECENT CHANGES: Check This Post

(Open RP Location: Any may join this thread.)

This structure, one of the most commanding of Sigil's skyline, stretches over a thousand feet into the air - towering over other buildings in the ward. Crafted from the charefully choosen materials of a thousand planes, primes and demiplanes, the Festhall offers sensations at every turn. The front of the building offers an impressive relief sculptured front featuring abstract images in honor of each of the five senses. Appropriate for a building that used to be the headquarters of the Society of Sensates, and is now the central point for the Entertainer's guild of the city.

Granite, marble, thousands of patterns and textures of carpet decorate the inside of the hall, and a dazzling array of entertainments can be found here - from lectures, to duals, food and drink of all varieties (good and bad). Music, dancing, and artwork provide a host of activites for the newcomer.

Most folks that are new to the Festhall would be suggested to seek out whatever member of the guild of entertainer's who has stationed themselves near the entrance. They can be of service in finding your way around.

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The Civic Festhall (Clerk's Ward)

A portal opens quietly in the frame of abandoned, half-rotted bleachers, leaving enough room for a cloaked and hooded form to duck through, the crushed remnants of a fire bat being absorbed in to his chilling, ash-gray claws, its mate uttering a shrill squeak of alarm from within the being's torso before being quieted by a hiss of Ignan. The fire polar straightens to his full height as he observes the goings-on beyond the abandoned equipment pile, his face obscured by black flames as he considers the shapes of the fleshy creatures within the Ward, and how best to fit amoungst their number. Deciding after a moment more, his body stiffens and solidifies in to a blend of ash and metallic flame. Finally, he pulls back his hood and removes his cloak, twirling it in his grasp as it bursts in to black flames itself, and is absorbed by a ruby-brightened platinum ring. Now bearing a fascade akin to a tall half-elf, with white ash for skin, light-hungry embers for eyes that continually exude a lazy red flame, and shoulder-length hair parted either way, black-ash lengths to the left, and tresses of gentle blue-black flames to the right. Patting his hand on the blade at his hip, and adjusting his simple steel gray tunic, he grins faintly, metallic white fangs dragging a hiss from his voice as another chirp issues from the fire bat nestled in his fiery core.

"Do not worry, little one, you will be with your lover again sssoon enough, after I have rested more dark from the nativesss of this petty fleshy hold. And perhapsss taken in a show or two..."

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The Civic Festhall (Clerk's Ward)

The Ward is busy, as usual, most beings simply going about their business without noticing the arrival of a newcomer, especially when the arrival is circumspect.

One small, dirty boy weaves his way through the crowd, yelling something about a festhall and handing out sheets of cheap parchment (and occasionally helping himself to a pouch or two); he makes his way to where the newcomer stands, and scans quickly, then looks up slowly. With wide eyes, he presses a flyer into the hands of the half-elf, resolving not to touch any pouch this mark might be carrying. "Hoi, berk, the festhall welcomes all." the boy points to the building and scuttles quickly off to continue his rounds.

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The Civic Festhall (Clerk's Ward)

A slender coal-black brow lifts as the polar offers the child a smirk. He lifts the flyer up to read, his fiery eyes providing ample light whatever the hour. After a few moments of mental translations, the flame dancer clenches the flyer and balls it in his fist. He looks towards the Festhall, shrugs his shoulders, and steps towards the entrance, letting the drifting ashes of the flyer trail from his hand.

"No better way to learn a weakness than to learn a joy."

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The Civic Festhall (Clerk's Ward)

Without warning to those that had yet been walking near to the hidden polar, a wave of radiant fire poured out along the floor, like a boiling, multicolored flood, taking up several yards around him. Despite its appearance, the flames offered no more heat than the twinkle of a gnome’s eye, as it formed itself in to a miniature mountainous green valley, complete with rippling pastures and pale blurs one could imagine to be homes. Pale, ghostly images of humans, demihumans, and various common races then appeared within the sea of glittering pastoral flames, showing the common tasks of good, simple folk going about their happy little lives. As the minor scenes played out, darkness rippled through the flames, like a massive shadow overtaking the flame-formed valley. The faint images of happy people looked up to the sky, and towards the hills, as the shadow overtook them. A great, ice-blue fiend arose in a torrent of purple flames as it towered over the ‘valley’, the other images screaming as it spread its bat-like wings, and opened its village-sized maw, laughing in silence as it began hurling bolts of purple flame down on the hapless citizenry, the whole scene erupting in agony, and filling the room with the slightest chill. From behind the dark flame curtain, a glow stirred, as the polar readied himself for Scene 2.

Pardon the past tense; I'm trying to relearn storytelling after too many in character monologues.

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The Civic Festhall (Clerk's Ward)

Jennifer Blinked more than just a little dazed she was standing in the street looking up at a structure that dwarfed anything she had ever imagined.

Did she die and wind up in some twisted after life in punishment for her rejection of the gods? How ironic that after years of torment and an ultimate rejection of the powers she would die in a battle against a priest who rejected the power of her queen. Fear ran down her spine and she swallowed or could this be another realm of existence. Was that any better?

She walked into the great building patting her saber and though she rarely depended on steel anymore it gave her a little comfort.

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Malkatel strides into the fest hall from the street beyond, a soft smile crossing his canine muzzle; he is pleased. Today is a good day for him, and it would be better shortly as soon as he found that teifling. He had fulfilled his part of the bargain and now it was her turn to reciprocate. Looking around he smirked the hall was the same as he always remembered it, filled, busy and run by the sensates. “Wonder when she’ll get herself mazed…or flayed.” He muttered looking over an obvious sensate or rather entertainer’s guild member. With that he stood and waited looking around amused.

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The Civic Festhall (Clerk's Ward)

Walking further into the large building her heart jumped into her throat. A large creature with the head of a cat grinned at her “Lass you have to drop a little coin if ya want into the show”. Jennifer gaped and turned hard to leave and crashed into a larger creature that looked as she thought a werewolf might if they existed. Her hand near her saber, the only thoughts in her mind were getting out and getting somewhere else.

(OOC: this place is actually run by the entertainers guild now as techinally the Sensates don't exist in the city anymore. Although it is basically still the Sensates if I understand correctly.)

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The Civic Festhall (Clerk's Ward)

Emerging from a Sensorium, Corriander strides into the central foyer of the Festhall, before stopping and turning around. A few drops of blood drip from some odd marks on his right hand.

"And another thing!" he shouts back towards the quivering wreck of a festhall-assistant, "When the place was in *other people's* hands, at least the damn recorder stones didn't BLOW UP!"

Shaking his head so that his ponytail whips around like an enraged adder (and nearly poking an eye out of another assistant running an errand) Corriander paused for a moment, running the last few words back through his head. Nope, safe. Almost referred to the previous administration but stopped full short of mentioning them. Phew.

"Please sir..." murmured the festhall assistant, who has scooped up the other fragments of the shattered stone.

"Look, if you're going to offer me my money back, then I've lost interest. I refuse to leave the information I've gathered so far on the Errant Wyrd here. Treasure location, traps and all, forget it."

"Ah," says the assistant, "I wasn't, actually. I was going to ask if you'd stop bleeding on the floor. We've just had it cleaned."

Corriander looked like he was about to explode.

"DO.... YOU... KNOW... WHO... I... AM?" he thundered dangerously.

The assistant studied him, took a deep breath, and said, "No, Sir. I... don't believe I do. Nope. Not at all."

Corriander sagged slightly, and took the broken remnants of the stone from the hand of the assistant. "No, I don't suppose you do."

Sighing to himself, his rage gone in an instant, Corriander walked to one of the public benches, and sat down, trying to piece the stone back together.

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The Civic Festhall (Clerk's Ward)

"ATTENTION, ALL!"

The voice is loud, but not shouted; well-projected, like an actor or a politician. Anyone who cares to look sees that the owner of said voice has emerged from the deeper parts of the festhall with a large beatific smile on his handsome face.

He continues, the volume only slightly lessened now that he has some listeners. "Welcome, all, to the Festhall!" The speaker appears to be male, human, and in his mid-thirties. His build seems to be average beneath his oh-so-expensive suit of spotless clothing.

He begins to move through the crowd with effortless grace. "Here, you may find any and all pleasures, any and all amusements. All you have to do is ask." The saintly smile tilts a bit and becomes a sly grin. "And a little jink never hurts..." He jingles a purse he's drawn from nowhere; then replaces it in the nowhere from whence it came.

"I am Majordomo here...and I have staff here all day and all night ready to guide you. Enjoy!"

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The Civic Festhall (Clerk's Ward)

Jennifer darted past the creature in front of her and ran through a door attempting to get back onto the street. Someone behind her yelled “you can’t go in there!” then suddenly a massive red dragon rose up and breathed fire on everything in the room.

She found herself lying on the floor and stopped screaming, a group of people walked past her shaking their heads. It had to be some kind of illusion… One greater than any she had ever seen, how would she ever going to get out of this place!

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The Civic Festhall (Clerk's Ward)

A pillar of scintillating light erupts from the polar’s “backstage”, snuffing out the darkness as a flame-winged figure floats up, shining as bright as day. The polar’s features have been replaced with a stylized celestial continence: alabaster skin with just a touch of gold that seems to race through his veins, long, flowing golden hair, whipping about on a non-existent wind, radiant eyes glowing the color Elysium’s sky, and a humble white loin cloth hiding little of the statuesque musculature of the faux angel. The fiery celestial lands on his toes as he looks to the fire-made “fiend”, making an exaggerated beseeching gesture, as if begging the monster to halt its assault. The celestial toes forward, gesturing to itself, to the town of flames, and to the fiend, his wings accentuating his movements with shifting hues. The fiend straightens and gestures to the celestial, and throws back its head in silent laughter, as only the gentle roar of flames provides sound. The celestial reels, toeing backwards as if struck in the heart, agony washing over its face as it curls up, looking over its shoulder at the town. Sparkling silver tears fall from the celestial’s eyes, floating down like fiery bubbles to alight upon the town. The fiend laughs and exalts in bringing fear and sadness to such a righteous being. But as the tears strike the town, the blue fires in the celestials eyes become blood red, and his teeth gnash as he rises again, pointing the fiend angrily and asserting a challenge to the beast.

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Corriander...

Corriander flinched as the Majordomo shouted out his sales pitch, dropping a piece of the recorder stone to the floor. pulling a face to himself, he resisted explaining the 'service' he had received.

Quickly devoting himself back to the task of finding out where exactly the pieces should fit, he nearly dropped another shard as a girl ran past him into one of the occupied recorder booths.

A brief scream came from the girl as she fell backwards out of the booth, hands waving and clawing in the air.

Chewing his lip (and deciding, privately, that enough was enough) Corriander stood up, leaving the recorder stone behind, and walked over to the girl who was looking panicked and trying to get to their feet.

Doing his best to smile charmingly, his blue eyes twinkling, he leant over the girl, and held out a hand to help her up.

"Madam, you appear to be in some dire straits. Allow me to help you up. My name is... Corriander Herefore."

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The Civic Festhall (Clerk's Ward)

“yyyeaah" she stammered and slowly toke his hand “what is this place?” She flinched as a box shaped metal creature came walking by smiling widely despite being on fire and being chased by a women trying to put it out. “It’s so strange here”

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Waiting

Malketel looks after the clueless girl and sits down on a bench not too far away from her but still not paying too much attention to her. With a few deft motions of his fingers in the air he is crasping a pair of specticles which he perches on his nose, and another flick of his paw brings about a book hovering in perfect position for him to read. He shakes his head and murmers to himself as he reads; he even has a privacy spell going blurring the text for anyone who would look over his shoulder and if you look carefully his robes don't quite touch the bench being held up as if he were sitting on an invisable cushion.

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The fiend guffawed in silence, and summoned a trident formed of shifting blue and purple light, menacing the celestial with the dimly-glowing weapon. The celestial, in turn, summoned a blade of brilliant white flame, ripples of heat emanating from it, though not enough to harm the surroundings of the Festhall. The two foes circled each other, each beating their wings as they flitted from position to position. The fiend’s movements were coarse and crude, but the celestial danced as it moves, slowly waving its holy sword as it locked eyes with its mortal foe. Fed up with the pixie-like movements of the celestial, the fiend moved as if to plunge its cruel trident in to the hapless flame-made village below it. Enraged, the celestial leapt in to the air, wings blazing like a phoenix’s triumph, then swooped down, sword-first, spinning in the air as it made to cut the fiend’s shoulder, but soon intercepted by the trident’s tines, and forced almost to the ground. Recovering quickly, the celestial made another pass, as the fiend tried to skewer celestial’s wings, both thwarted by each other’s own strikes. The opposed beams of light clashed, stroke after stroke, as the polar and his fiery construct warred upon each other, sending sparks in to the air, as if steel against steel, the celestial fires boiled away from the tainted trident’s tines, the eyes of each combatant blazed in hate and fury. Every time the fiend tried to impale the celestial, the polar dodged from the tines in an acrobatic roll and flit of his wings. Every time the holy blade neared fiendish flesh, the great beast intercepted it or knocked it aside. The choreography continued in this manner, with the powerful beast and the graceful protector having at one another, until the first strike sung true.

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To Jennifer

Corriander smiled, as he and girl strode back to a bench.

"It's always like this here, in the Civic Festhall. Many different people... in different shapes. Many different entertainments. And some of them more..." he searches for the word for a moment, "...extreme than others."

Gesturing to the bench, he rubs his fingers across his chin, striking the pose of one about to deliver a lecture.

"But... I believe you're not just talking about this building, no? So you do feel that this is a different place, hmmm? What's the last thing you remember..."

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The Civic Festhall (Clerk's Ward)

“I was battling a priest; I got light headed and found myself in a masonry building after seeing a bright flash. Within a few moments I was pulled into some kind of gate and found myself on the streets of this place….” Jennifer was still visibly shaken but still apparently watching most everything that went on around her.

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The Civic Festhall (Clerk's Ward)

Corriander's eyes widened as he listened to the girl's story. Priests... Gates... Interesting that she should be deposited in Sigil.

"Well, my girl, you have found yourself in Sigil - City of Doors, Centre of the Multiverse, Doorway to the Infinite... ah, need I continue?"

Patting down his shirt, looking like a cross between a scholar, lecturer and particularly pleased fiend, Corriander intoned, "And you are most fortunate to have, at your disposal, the famed Corriander Herefore."

Corriander glances around, as if daring anyone to dispute this. No one pays him the slightest bit of attention.

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Sitting around [Corriander, Jeneffer ect.]

Malketel just chuckles under his breath at the comment of fame rolling his eyes as the next page in his book turns.

"And what exactly would you show her? Your famous bedroom perhaps?" He mutters not quite quiet enough to escape being heard over on the bench near-bye.

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Jennifer looked back to canine creature and quietly moved her eyes between him and Corriander the human. Looks could be deceiving the human could very easily be the more dangerous of the two. Did she just lash out for something familiar and could she even trust either of them. "If you two couldn't tell I am new here" she got out without stammering. "Corriander already introduced himself who might you be" she asked boldly enough she actually surprised herself.

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The Civic Festhall (Clerk's Ward)

Malketel looks away from his book, and the tome closes and dissapears from whence it was drawn.

"Ah quite right. I am called Malketel, and my bussiness is trading. I'm sort of a middle man, dealing in rare goods. I find people that have them and people that want them and connect the twain for a profit." He speaks in a smooth voice calmly smiling with now teeth showing. "Though if you are new here you'd be well advised to be wary of who is around you. This city is somewhat a neutral ground and fiends and celestials, llive side by side with paragons of order and manifestations of chaos.. And you can never truely tell just by looking at someone who or what they are. There are good fiends and evil celestials for example."[/i]

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"So this place isn't heaven or hell but yet demons and angels walk around freely?" Jennifer looked a bit confused and unsure of what she should do next. "So are there a lot of people like myself that just randomly show up here?"

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Looking slightly ruffled at the dog-crossed-creature, Corriander runs through several responses to the bedroom comment. Deciding on the most withering response, he ignores him.

"It's a crossroads, dear girl, and yes, people turn up from all over the place."

Glancing sharply at the Malketel, he adds, "...whether they have a purpose or not, invited or not. Delighted to meet you, by the way, Malketel."

Corriander looks about for a moment, then snaps his fingers. "Manners, manners. You must be hungry and thirsty, my dear girl. I shall fetch some refreshments."

He turns towards Malketel once more, and says "I'll take it *you* may as well participate. I can trust you to keep an eye on the young lady, hmmm?"

Without waiting for a response he whirls about, and heads to a nearby refreshments stall that seems to be staffed by a man with a fair few arms over the average, and makes some requests.

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Jennifer sat down on the bench and sighed. This was certainly going to be an experience she was never going to forget, unless she woke up very soon. “Malketel why don’t you have seat despite you being a lot different than anything I have ever seen at least I know your name”. She flashed what she hoped was a sincere smile. Jennifer had never really been that good at smiling and she had always been more interested in magic than meeting new people.

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The Civic Festhall (Clerk's Ward)

Malketel sits down in front of and just to the side of Jenefer, smiling aimiablely. Of coarse there is no bench there but he doesn't fall, the very air supporting him in an invisable chair..

"So my dear, if you don't mind my asking what trade do you ply when not finding yourself in strange cities?"

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“I am a sorcerer for the empire, one of the youngest in a long time in fact. If I could find a way to return quickly it would be best for my world is at war.” She sighed as she held out some hope that a quick portal would bring her home but the odds against that were astronomical. She would try of course but it seemed like it might be hopeless and if she did get back did time move differently here or what else might change.

The Priest she was batting must have been more powerful than any of the spies had imagined if he could simply push her into another dimension in the mist of a great battle. “What is the name of this city anyway?”

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"Sigil, madam. Err...which Empire do you mean? This place connects to many worlds and there are many empires in those worlds. Does your world have a name?"

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“The Empire of the Raven and we called our world Teral or more simply it means the world” looking back up at the creature she sighed quietly once again. “What is your trade and how can a city become so dirty?"

In the empire any large city has sewers, aqueducts, laws on stables, animals that are more than adequate for their size as ordered by the Empire. She couldn’t imagine how one would let an entire city go like this. Maybe this was just one bad corner or maybe they had an unexpected problem. She had no fear of filth she had grown up as a peasant working with animals you got used to it but in a city with a large population it was just unheard of at least in the last few centuries since the Empire had civilized much of the world.

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"Dirty? Well most cities have worlds surrounding them. This one has its portals which open and flush the city's air and water at the lady's discretion. It is a very busy place so between ah flushings things can build up. You either get used to it or you use a filter spell."

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"My I'm hungry is that where Corriander went off to or can we head off somewhere for some food when he gets back?" Jennifer was surprised at how fast she was getting used to talking a creature that a few moments ago she thought was some sort of demon. "I have a funny feeling this is going to get a lot stranger yet" she accidentally mumbled aloud.

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Three deep scars had been torn in to the celestial’s face, the skin and flesh looking as if it had been burned away, embers falling away before they faded into motes of light, and then nothingness. A long, bright blue tongue of flame flicked out of the fiend’s mouth, to caress the tines of its trident. The celestial shook himself, bit back the pain, flicked his golden locks over his shoulder, and rejoined the fight with redoubled wrath, slapping away the wretched trident as he made a long, slashing scar across the fiend’s belly, a puff of ash bursting from the wound as the two returned to their deadly dance. Every moment and every swipe brought more fury from both opponents, and the battle was truly joined. Heedless of their own pain, the two exemplars bled one another mercilessly, warring like no mortal could hope to. Images of the villagers appeared in the flames, hopeful faces, terrified souls, eyes unable to watch, and others unable to look away.

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"bonemage" wrote:
"My I'm hungry is that where Corriander went off to or can we head off somewhere for some food when he gets back?" Jennifer was surprised at how fast she was getting used to talking a creature that a few moments ago she thought was some sort of demon. "I have a funny feeling this is going to get a lot stranger yet" she accidentally mumbled aloud.

Malketel furrows his brow and nods. "I don't know. I've not met him before but if you wish to eat I can certainly show you to an Inn, point out a few good touts and help you find a place to stay. . . That is if you feel you can trust a well half fiend. Like I said bloodlines are mixed around here and you can never be sure of what someone is by looking at him."[/i]

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Both foes bled, and soon felt wary. The two bitter foes parted to catch their breath and twirled away from each other’s parting blows, but each stumbled at the end of their dodge. The celestial pointed his blazing sword at the fiend, and his eyes made a silent demand for peace. The fiend returned the gesture, but only grinned, and promised death in the same manner. Desperate, the celestial made a threatening sweep with his sword, declaring the result of further conflict, but the fiend only lifted its trident, and moved as if to strike the village below. Eyes wide and exploding with golden light, the celestial dashed forward, propelled by his fiery wings, to strike at the creature’s heart, forgetting the fiend’s original ruse. As the celestial came close, the trident flicked up, and impaled the hapless celestial’s stomach, causing the surprised would-be savior to lose his focus, and thus, his weapon, in a flash of light. The wretched weapon’s tines tore in to the holy creature’s gut, and emerged through his back. The fiend roared silently in victory, but did so too soon, as the celestial grabbed its thick throat, and summoned forth his blade one last time. The fiend’s eyes widened in horror as the holy flames erupted within its throat, tearing it apart. The holy blade and the unholy flesh boiled unto each other, and the fiend’s entire body became unstable. It’s head nearly separate from its body, and its life about to be extinguished, the fiend yet managed one last savage grin as it grasped tightly to the celestial’s body. In the span of a moment, the entirety of the fiery display, save the shining celestial, became as dim as shadow, and then the whole of it exploded in to brilliant light, as if a small supernova had just gone off, and then the fiend was utterly gone. Alone now in dull light akin to dusk, the fiery display the town extinguished, the celestial lay in a heap, its wings gone, its body crippled, and what flesh it still had char-blackened. The flames extinguished from its eyes as it stared up, and a simple smile emerging on it’s ashen face, before its eyes closed forever. A moment of nothing, and the polar’s body fades in to invisibility, the tale at its end.

Another few moments, and the polar allows light to return to it, now that it has regained its more usual form. It leans back against the interior wall, and glances around, making no gesture to bow or seek applause.

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The door of the Inn opens, causing winter chill to descend upon the current occupants. A being enters, swathed in a fur-trimmed and frost-rimmed leather cloak, the hood totally obscuring the face. A hand, long slender fingers tipped with long purple talons, moves up to relieve the hood, causing a cascade of black hair to tumble out. A face of such beauty as to lament the soul is produced from the vast blackness, white in its contrast. He moves to the Innkeep, an undeniable grace in his every step. "A goblet of your finest celestial blood please, barkeep." Crystal music fills your ears. Grasping hold of the offered chalice, absently tossing a onyx diamond at the innkeeper, slender fingers entwining comfortably, he turns towards the conversations of the room.

The being is impeccably dressed with the wealth of entire worlds, his black silk cloak sewn with purple diamonds in the the shape of roses, interwoven with gold and platinum stitching, forming a line down each side. A symbol can be deciphered from the haphazard location of the roses, forming a perfect picture of a beautiful, naked, bat winged celestial, silky black hair trailing down to her waist, with one hand holding a chalice filled with blood, crying tears of blood, on a black, inverted triangle. The design forming together at his back. His eyes are large pools of such intense blood-red as to be almost blue in their coloration. The face is smooth, devoid of hair, and is alluring and arresting in its beauty. This being easily rivals the likes of Belial and Graz'zt.

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The Civic Festhall (Clerk's Ward)

"I guess I should find myself a room in this city somewhere? Is there an Inn near here? I think I should be able to afford a room this city does accept gold and silver?"

ooc: maybe just suggest the inn right here in the Festhall so it will be pretty easy to access her later to join back up with you when I get back no matter what you decide to do with your character while I am gone. Sorry again for ducking her out of the plot while I am on my work trip.

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The Civic Festhall (Clerk's Ward)

Malketel smiles and nods, "Allright thereis one right here, follow me I'll help you get a room." With that he pads off towards the festhall's inn offering his hand for Jen to follow.[/i]

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The Civic Festhall (Clerk's Ward)

Still a little uneasy Jennifer followed Gerzel as he beckoned and kept an eye out for the other fellow she had just met. Perhaps a chance to unwind a bit and a night of sleep would make the situation look better but she somehow doubted it.

"Thanks for all the assistance you are providing this is defiantly a strange new world" she smiled a bit thinking about how big of an understatement that really was.

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The Civic Festhall (Clerk's Ward)

Upon noticing that the Festhall has suffered since the fall of the Sensates, the polar takes his leave, amusing himself by mimicing the forms of passing beings in his own stylings, and heading for... trouble.

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The Civic Festhall (Clerk's Ward)

Jennifer walked into a gothic looking room. It was simply magnificent nothing of this size existed within the empire. Glory went to God and Emperor such a display would be arrogant. One thing she had silently always questioned about the empire but it had ended the class wars and forged a new power…

After stirring in her room for a short while she decided to stroll around again not feeling so tired anymore. She wondered what other sights this strange new place had to offer.

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The Civic Festhall (Clerk's Ward)

Malkatel smiles as he walks out towards the clueless girl, new to this strange place, "Good morning, my dear. Did you sleep well?"

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