In the Night Market, "Ripper" Rog, noted halfling second-floor man and self-appointed knower of all things worth knowing and a few not, holds forth to a group of his fellow ne'er-do-wells...
A basher would think there'd be a collective sigh of relief as the Hardhead "traitor" got carted off to the Madhouse. Rather convenient for him to've lost his marbles, no? Berks on the street'll be willing enough to let that pass, letting the 'Heads keep their so-called "good name", right? So I know what you all're thinking: why do so many of the shellheads seem to be walking around with their sphincters tighter than a dwarven bride's corset? Well now, let me tell you why.
Killeen Caine's in town.
You say you don't know him? Well, not everyone can have his finger on the pulse of newsworthy events like ol' Rog. See, Caine's the top of the Harmonium wizards, and the big cheese Hardhead in Melodia. Yeah, that's right... a hundred hundred hardheads running their own town in Arcadia, and this guy's in charge. Sure, Sarin and Shar are still runnin' things here... but a cutter with his ear to the ground is bound to hear some things, and Caine's been a favorite of the rank and file for well on a decade now. And the Buxenus HQ ain't just for training and rallying... oh, no. It's also where the Inquisition sits.
What, you mean you ain't heard of that either? You just fall in a portal and still wondering where you are, or are you really that clueless? Inquisition... yeah, that's right. The ones who really want to dig into stuff. Normally only two or three in Sigil at one time, word is Factol Sarin don't like their methods all too much, but the fact (ascertained by the magnificent infiltration skills of your truly) that twenty of 'em are in town now and Sarin ain't marchin' them right back to Arcadia tells me something. You don't believe me? Just keep an eye out for Hardheads wearing black cloaks and pins with a sunburst on 'em. And then stay the hells out of their way, unless you feel like an evening in a cell being questioned by a large man with needles and hot pokers sounds like your cup o' tea.
There's something rotten in the barracks, my friends. And Caine's boys ain't resting until they've found out just what it is. Dark is, there's already been a few "disappearances" from the ranks here. Won't surprise me to hear about a few more, either. Just what they're looking for? Well, if I knew that, I'd be wearing fifty pounds of steel with spiky shoulders.
Harmonic Convergence...
