Scene #5437: City Under The Mountain-1

Owner	Pose
Bloody Revelations	As it turns out, Gethamane isn't incredibly far away. For being so obscure --practically a blip on the map almost anywhere outside the immediate region-- it's only a matter of a couple hundred miles from Whitewall (chump change for Multiversal travel especially), and apparently, much larger than one would have assumed from its excessively rural position and lack of real documentation. You see, as it turns out, the city is not placed on the freezing surface of the Northern tundras, or in the warm valleys that only last for months out of the year, but it would seem instead, directly under an utterly massive mountain; one that stands out even amongst all the others clustered around it, for its sheer size and steep grade. Even in the middle of summer, not much seems to grow on it, and wildlife is much more scarce away from the bogs and fens. Were it not for one thing in particular, one could wander right past it without any knowledge at all that a small metropolist exists beneath one's feet. That thing being the gate. More specifically, the gate and the traffic associated with it. The southern side of the mountain base sees visitors, proceeding through a natural-looking cave which, despite being large enough to let several teams of transport animals wait side by side, looks as if it is has been filled in before; possibly even several times over the years. At the end of it, just before it becomes too dark to see, stands a set of doors easily several storeys high, seemingly built entirely of solid steel, laced with traces of gleaming gold and some reddish-tinted metal, and easily a meter thick. A single glance at them immediately tells one that the massive gates, operated by entire teams at rotating wheels, like a ship's anchor pulley, are far beyond the capabilities of the craftsmen of this era. Another relic of a previous age, abandoned in the frozen North. What they're being used for, though, is very ordinary. Lines of horses and oxen carry riders and caravans in and out at a steady, stop-start, bureaucratic pace. An antechamber past the main doors seems to work like an airlock, using the gates in tandem with a similarly sized portcullis of what looks to be crystal. Anyone coming in is made to report to teams of clerks and well-dressed and armed guards, much like crossing a national border, and as it seems, pay up for the visit. It makes sense then, that the traffic is overwhelmingly mercantile in nature. The Elites may be the only ones present who aren't here to buy and sell. Either way, the procedure is the same for them. If they want to get in at all (at least without exhaustively searching for some other possible entrance), they have to give a name, nature of business, and pay up a silver coin. Failing to do so immediately prompts the alternative; paying through labour for each day of their stay. One thing that never goes unmentioned is that the maximum length of any visit is one month; that is one collective month out of the entire year. No more. Not by one day. The bureaucrats aren't especially friendly, and only barely polite.
Bloody Revelations	Past that, all visitors are immediately funneled into a series of bland, rectangular tunnels, into what must be a visitor's district of the city. Getting inside, the temperature immediately evens out into the range one would find inside a modern, climate controlled home, about at the point that the walls begin displaying evenly spaced settings for glowing, violet crystals, which illuminate the area like bright torches (which somehow don't seem to cast purple light at all). It's downright comfy indoors. If one wasn't paying attention, they could swear that they just stepped into a very large 21st century supermarket, for the light and heat and quality of the air, as well as general cleanliness. For a while, anyways. The point at which everyone is left alone by the guards is some sort of market square . . . cavern? It's the exact kind of loud, busy and cramped one would expect from a wealthy bazaar set up at a popular desert oasis, filled with barely-planned stalls and tents wedged between more permanent storefronts. Almost all of it is foreign business, selling to locals and visitors alike, but some of it is owned by the city itself, which seems to massively undercut any visiting merchants in any matter of metals, stones, lumber, and local crafts. It's no time at all before people are being pestered at to buy foreign wines, arms and armour, dubious charms, what are most certainly drugs, and 'true and verifiable maps of the Underways', whatever those are. It's a free-for-all between the market district and the city proper; practically a foreigner quarantine zone.
Septette Arcubielle	In sharp contrast to her take-charge behavior in planning the Gethamane bait, Septette seems to be taking a more passive, laid-back role in the first actual foray there. The veteran war-machine's real expertise lies in tactics and negotiations, after all- her ability to explore an insular city without drawing suspicion is virtually zero. Instead, she plans to take in the sights, assess the public spaces of the city, and perhaps begin spinning a plan to put into action on the day the Bull comes charging in. She's made no attempt to conceal her mechanical nature from the guards and travelers here beyond wearing her customary purple shawl; passing for human to any kind of competent detection is nearly impossible for her anyway. Instead, she trusts to the same quiet and reserved demeanor that got her mistaken for a native automaton in the past to get her through. "Septette Arcubielle," she informs the guard in her raw and buzzing synthetic voice. "Here to pick up a secure parcel for my master. I won't be more than a few days." She doesn't have the exact denomination of coin that the guard wants, of course- but she makes up for it by paying with an Etrian gold piece instead. She isn't so unwise as to visit a mercantile city without any spending money, even if the toll does come as a surprise. Once inside the gate, she approaches one of the less-dubious-looking cartographers and takes him aside. "You're not getting much business, are you? Tell me what you know about these 'Underways', and I'll gladly buy two maps off you."
Starbound Flotilla	The STARBOUND FLOTILLA are here, in their standard Durasteel equipment! Moonfin, the fishman, is in elaborate full-body durasteel armor that looks like a powered cross between a diving suit and a samurai's armor, glowing cyan at the faceplate. Biteblade, the humanoid plant, is in durasteel plating with elaborately carved wood and bone ornaments over glowing powered components that glow an intense green. Pavo the bird-girl wears a pirate-aesthetic set of mesoamerican-style armor, with yellow bands of energized fabric linking the pieces to her central piratey longcoat. Albert the monkey-man is wearing elaborate dystopian commando armor reconstructed with a 'rebel spy' aesthetic: A sleeker faceplate, a slimmer form, and a more chaotic design that integrates thin, resilient plates of durasteel, and lines of bright white. George (just plain human) wears a futuristic combat EVA hardsuit that glows a gentle red at the flat faceplate. Seft, the robotic Flotilla member, is wearing full-on medieval knight armor with a soft energized blue glow below the plates on her body, and especially around the eyes. Each has a heavy industrial-yellow two-pronged plasma-cutter-like tool strapped to their side, a Matter Manipulator. Pavo insists on crafting the silver coin required right on-site just to make sure they don't over-pay even a tiny amount. The Starbound Flotilla may be here on business, but they can also be here on pleasure. They've brought out that big junky-looking double-wide super-truck again, with all those multitudes of platforms and such attached. It's laden with goods -- though this time food and consumer goods are mixed in with the armor and the weapons -- and the Starbound Flotilla does authentically intend to trade as well as explore. All this show, though, it gives them a proper air of authenticity. It also gives them a convenient platform for heavy equipment. Seft has brought in a massive hardware platform, a chaotic mess of brass and heavy glass tubes, and during the entry, she was hard at work on running scans on the existing demonstration of the local relics and their material composition. The DOOR isn't gonna be the weapon, but it sure is going to indicate the sort of materials that the group can expect to find in a magitech cache, and so with a redone ore scanner meant to find that sort of material, the Flotilla hope to establish even a faint signal to confirm the presence of more such materials deeper... And to perhaps get some hints on what where to follow up.
Alucard Tepes	Alucard's travel here was on foot, though not necessarily walking. See, he has other forms he can use, and it was his wolf form that he chose. As a wolf he can run fast enough to leave a blur to the eyes of normal people. Mind, he didn't just run up to the gate as a wolf and then change, no. He ran, ducked behind a place where he would be unlikely to have been seen, changed back to his human form, then put in please his suppression magics, and THEN walked up to the gate. Also fortunate, Alucard carries money. It's not the currency of this world but it's made of precious metals -- that is, gold and silver -- so it should be acceptable everywhere. So if he's stopped for paying his way, he should have coinage enough to get past. He may even offer a little extra to the guards themselves, for being 'friendly' and 'polite'. Even if they aren't, because money greases the wheels. He might be able to call on them to be lenient later. Maybe. Either way, he figures out pretty quickly that they're sort of being funneled into a 'keep these nasty foreigners away from our women/money/food stores/good silverware but don't make it obvious we're trying to cram them all into one place' area. Which is a bit of a problem, honestly, since they're looking for something that probably wouldn't be in such an area. He doesn't want to go flapping about as a bat or ghosting around as mist just yet, but those are options. Right now, though, he's merely looking around, taking in the 'pulse' of the place. He ignores approaches by shopkeepers unless he happens to be interested in the wares. His pale features are shrouded in a hooded gray cloak; the cloak itself is arranged to wrap about him to hide the rest of himself too.
Tomoe	Tomoe was not fully happy with the situation with the Bull it was a damned if you do damned if you don't situation. Howeved the ideaof Bloody Revlation comming out on top was worse than even the human sacfirce that White Wall did to keep the Fae and undead off their backs. She was not a happy woman but if no one did anything who knoews what the Bull would do to White Wall. Sure he wasn't a pilliage and rape sort. Still? Here she was with the rest of the group for the moment. She'll give a name Eisen, to the guard and pay the silcer under the guise of supplying up and looking for advenuring work. Which isn't a full lie at all on her party she's wry of the Starbounders due to Pavo for the moast part but he follows the flotilla in, it's the best way to do so at the moment. She's just going to be generlaly looking for information at the moment.
Miari	Many options are presented to Miari. She could EASILY bypass most of the security here if she really wished to. But at what risk and potential cost? So she really doesn't. She goes through the bureaucratic procedures with a great deal of seeming familiarity with such things, quickly picking out an approach and filling out any forms with great speed. Did she really write that many words with the golden brush she produced? But no. She has identified herself as Caeleen Miari, wandering physician, hoping to conduct a small amount of medical research on the plants grown underground here and explore the market prices for business ventures. And forks over several Dinars. She, of course, has provided excuses and coins for anyone else who needs them. Since a wandering physician needs bodyguards.
Staren	Staren beams down a few dozen miles away for good measure, then approaches the city by broom. As the people become specks in the distance he flies lower and activates Iianor's disguise spell. Something isn't right. He slows to a stop and tries to activate it again. Nothing. Great, magical technical difficulties. While he /could/ take Starbound's route of simply giving no fucks, he'd really prefer not to stick out here just yet. If anything, he has an even /better/ chance to blend in with them around. He dismounts the broom and starts removing his armor... A human woman approaches the gate. A few allies have surely heard by now that Staren's a shapeshifter, but they probably haven't actually seen him do it. Still, she's carrying Staren's bag... The rest of her outfit resembles those of the people nearby, though. She tells the guards that she's a scholar here to learn about Gethamane. Best to stick to lies he can convincingly act, right? She pays with a silver coin from a town that probably doesn't exist yet dated 300 years in the future, but as long as it's made of silver, do they care? Once inside... Staren marvels at the climate control and the massive scale of the place. Also, the weirdness of magic lamps that she SEES as purple but that don't reflect purple light off nearby objects. How does THAT work? She pulls out a tablet, turned off, to use as a mirror and see what color the lamps appear as reflected in such. Before beginning a more extensive search, she decides to ask around for information on Gethamane's history; perhaps tourism books aren't a thing (can people even read?), but surely there are historical records or scholars, right?
Bloody Revelations	With Septette, the particular petty white collar worker she has to deal with (literally with a white collar, albeit sewn into official robes) takes a great deal of care to verify the authenticity of the gold she produces, tiny scale and all. Given that it is very clearly gold, however (and clearly more than the cost of entry, not that he says anything), it doesn't take him long to shoo her through, though one of the city guard, dressed in white and red with a tremendous hammer, follows her all the way to the market. Predictably, it is the least dubious-looking merchants who are getting the fewest customers, as it seems those same guards don't even remotely care about inspecting what they're selling. Septette can spy a few here and there checking out other goods, but nothing purporting to either be magical or an accurate map. Her best pick was practically asleep at his stall when she found him, startling awake at the prod, and reflexively snatching up huge handfuls of leather-bound scrolls for a couple of seconds of panic. "Ah! One who wants to try their luck with the old Underways! Certainly, your master must be confident to send something as valuable as you down there! Very well!" He then goes on to explain that, beneath Gethamane, there is a network of tunnels that easily predates the city, that weaves around its mining tunnels. He claims that they're ten times as big as the city itself, have existed for ten thousand years, and were build by a mysterious ancient civilization, but it's up to Septette how much she wants to believe is plausible and how much is upsell. Supposedly though, it is very common for Realm Dynasts and other rich folk to come here to delve those tunnels in search of treasure; enough that the city has an official policy that legalizes it, in exchange for a percent of what they bring back. If she cares to verify, she can quickly find people who will corroborate that foreign entourages frequently come back with valuable gems, exotic ores, magical herbs, and the odd First Age artifact, though they advise her that almost as many never come back.
Bloody Revelations	The bureaucratic dispassion for visitors more or less works to the Flotilla's favour. Weird as they look, they paid, they registered, and so they get shoved through the diamond portcullis like the rest of the barbarians. Finding a choice place to set up shop, however, proves very difficult. Despite being flooded with random travelers trying their luck, or stopping to resupply and hoping to turn coin in the meantime, the market is equally host to large numbers of very skilled and savvy merchants, who know where to plant their wares, and likely how to hold it past the allotted month. They'll very quickly gain interest, and very (very) few questions as to the origin of anything they bring in, however, and possibly turn a tidy sum of change; useful, since it's all in local currency. The door reads for several things. It is, indeed, predominantly steel; a massive quantity of it, in fact, forged as single slabs with continuous grain. There are two other trace elements mixed in though: something at least superficially similar to some form of nephrite, which must account for the reddish tinge, and something with the same density and electromagnetic resonance as gold (which probably accounts for the gold flecks, though it matches no other traits typical for gold). Both are clearly magical, and reflect scanning wavelengths to a great extent, making the antechamber unscannable from the outside.
Bloody Revelations	Alucard draws surprisingly little attention. This would become apparent quickly, once he moves past any of the personnel stationed outside. His pallid complexion, somber looks, quiet demeanor and faintly gloomy air, in fact, seem to be a local affectation. He can spy, here and there, people who uniformly bear all the same traits, and considering they're all dressed in the same fashion and speaking with the same accent, they must be locals. It's not a 1:1, but he certainly passes much better for a Gethamanian than anyone else. After all, these are people who see the sun even less than he does. And yet, he has the barest sensation, on the level of one of those ordinary tricks of the ear that someone had called his name, that he is being watched. No. Stalked. Hunted, even. Not in the metaphorical, humanocentric way either. A predator.
Bloody Revelations	The people here seem little interest in the services of a physician. Some look at Miari as if they wonder why she even bothered to come. Most probably assume her from somewhere in the Realm, or at the very least one of its Satraps, and so they pay little mind, likely assuming that she plans to spend her time more frivolously than she lets on. She is immediately a popular mark for all sorts of businessfolk, who ply her for her time five times more than anyone else. She, however, has the luxury of being able to tell that roughly half the charms and talismans and reagents she's being shown are fake, and half of the remainder are flawed or misidentified. Maybe the city services just figure that any outsider who falls for it, gets what they deserve. That said, even if the visitor's district is full of its fair share of hacks and outlaws, it isn't all tacky, Made In China smoke and mirrors. She can sense a handful of significant works of magic, here and there; nothing on the level of the great gates, but not insignificant. Furthermore, she can discern a handful of individuals of power, mixed in the throng. A Terrestrial or two is to be expected, as is perhaps the band of Immaculate Monks, unsuccessfully preaching their gospel to disinterested guildsman and materialistic locals. One particular presence stands out amongst them, though, both in terms of raw power, and in lacking any kind of elemental flavour.
Alucard Tepes	Alucard is not unfamiliar with the sensation of being stalked. It was an ever-present feeling while in his father's castle. And pretty much anywhere in Wallachia, since there's almost always something trying to kill him -- if it isn't his father's cultists, it's monsters in the woods; if it's not monsters in the woods, it's the townspeople. And so when he gets that all-too-familiar prickling feeling in the back of his skull, he's inclined to trust his instincts. He turns to the nearest crowd he can find and makes to 'get lost' in it -- that is, lose not himself, but whoever -- or WHATever -- is tailing him. It shouldn't be too hard. Alucard is actually not that tall as Elites go, at about 5'8"; hopefully there aren't that many people here that are shorter. His hope is getting 'lost' in the crowd will force the stalker to come into closer range, where he may be able to catch sight of him with the sharp, predatory vision that Alucard himself possesses.
Septette Arcubielle	A series of winding tunnels under a gloomy city? Now here, Septette feels in her element. She purchases the two maps as promised, but can't resist toying with the hapless vendor just a little bit after helping him pick up the fallen scrolls: the coins that she pays with are flash-frozen in a tiny prism of magical ice in her hands, geometrically perfect and refracting the dim torchlight in curious patterns. It'll melt in a few hours, or he could break it before then if he's particularly impatient- but until then, the shopkeeper gets to wonder just what kind of automaton does that. She leaves him with a guttering wink before fading into the crowd- well, insofar as a walking blender can 'fade'. With her pouch full of maps of dubious provenance and her head full of even sketchier stories, Septette breaks from the marketplace and heads into the more residential, less crowded areas of the city, hoping to catch a glimpse of what life is like in Gethamane away from the tourist traps. Of course, her core is still lit up like a tiny star to supernatural senses- if anyone, Elite or no, wishes to accost her, it'd be trivial to seek her out.
Tomoe	Tomoe catches up with Miari most of the people seem tonot care about healing that's a bit odd? She sees people tryin to prey on her however she looks she doesn't seeminterested inany of the stuff on sale here however. She just keeps with Miari and does check out for anything that might be of intrest to the mission or items that just might be useful. Local clothing, weapons, supplies that sort of thing. "Well ain't you the popular one Miari."
Bloody Revelations	Staren finds that, indeed, nobody is getting paid enough to care about what is minted on his silver, so long as it weighs the same (or more). Shuffling in with Tomoe, the two of them pretty quickly become part of the mob, and swiftly forgotten about. Indulging in the curiosity of the crystals, he'll find that the crystals themselves continue to appear purple in their reflection, but the light they give off is close enough to sunlight as to be indistinguishable to the naked eye. The two of them looking for 'information' is a broad topic, that could take them quite a while. Few want to give it up for free, and those that do are pretty clearly saturating it with folklore and tall tales that bring customers. From what they can gather about the city itself, Gethamane was settled centuries ago by refugees fleeing Wuld barbarians, lead by some woman called Bethan Redeye, whom is today regarded as some kind of pseudo-saint, and the city is run by her descendents. When they say settled, though, they pretty much mean "moved in". Supposedly, they found the place just about as it is now, completely deserted, with no sign of its previous inhabitants. Almost every current resident descends from that tribe of refugees, and the much larger population is supported by some sort of incomprehensible magic at its lowest level which grows an infinite supply of food. Nobody can explain, or even describe it, remotely to satisfaction, but both Staren and Tomoe will easily be able to tell, just from listening, that they're attempting to describe a very standard sort of hydroponics model (just involving magic of some sort). You have to be a registered local, and obey a very strict and complicated series of labour laws to earn your fair share of the free food, though. All accounts agree on that, as well as the fact that visitors are never allowed near the place. They also hear a little bit about the Underways. Apparently, most of them have long been blocked off over the years, but a certain number need to be left open to allow air to circulate. Every so often, strange creatures come up from the depths and aggress the people of Gethamane, and so there is a very large, and very well trained, standing army inside the city which specializes in urban and subterranean, anti-monster combat. It's common enough that all children know evacuation drills for their neighbourhood, but rare enough that people don't live in fear of it. Lastly, they are told of a number of services that specifically cater to outsiders, not tolerated to linger long in the city proper. A charity hospital that serves visitors (which would be more useful were they not rocking Multiversal healing technology and magic), a not-so-secret club of political and philosophy enthusiasts who have their fun at a minor expense of civil order, who supposedly know a lot more history. Something called 'The Janissary Vault', which sounds to either of them like a cartel for hire, but which supposedly /is/ allowed in the city, and will run basically any errand for enough money.
Staren	Staren's eyes widen slightly as it's explained they even have magic generating food here... That it's magic hydroponic farms is less impressive but still impressive and intriguing. At some point, as the 'having to be a local' thing is brought up for the umpteenth time, she can't help but ask if anyone ever immigrates. Honestly, he's kind of impressed by the whole thing. Gethamane is clearly managing a standard of living, in Creation of all places, that Staren can actually recognize as decent, with social stability that Staren would struggle to instill in any settlement. Word comes in over the radio about the tunnels, corraborated by the people she's speaking to. Good to know, but now's not the time to start that expedition. Instead, she'll try to track down the not-so-secret club of philosophers. If she can actually find them this will probably go either very well or very poorly.
Miari	ACK, FLOODED! Miari wasn't expecting this. Neither she, nor the Solar she once was, have much experience in this sort of situation and she's momentarily overwhelmed by the flood of haggling and offers! Through it all she manages to engage her Essence sight with a moment's breath... And if any truly nifty, genuine talismans appear in the flood of fakes? She can spare some Silver, perhaps... For the most part, though, she snakes her way through the market, barely able to breathe and starting to feel more than a bit frantic. FINALLY, a situation has arisen that actually put her entirely out of her element! "T-too much so!" Is her answers to Tomoe, who she rapidly attempts to form up with. Her and Staren. Who, she finds out with a glance, is currently a girl?! The Emerald-haired young woman blinks a few times at this revelation... "Memo to self. Markets need to be properly regulated. That was a nightmarish mixture of people who don't know what they're talking about!" She squeaks very, VERY quietly to her allies. Just a bit shell-shocked by the endeavor.
Starbound Flotilla	The Flotilla decide to do what they do best: Industry. They trundle their little truck into place in the market, unfolding it the way an old west snake oil salesman might have unfolded his wagon. Except, you know, they're not here to scam. Their goods may be foreign, mechanical, and technological, but they have goods, at the very least, and they can show off their craftsmanship a little. This is the way to get a lay of the social landscape, at least for them. They can probably catch the information about the monsters, but what they're interested in here is the details of how they might use that against the Bull, and... Well, how they might avoid certain dangers. They want to gauge what sort of gear most commonly is needed in this city, so they can know what to bring. Elemental weaknesses? Best styles of combat? All those similar suchlike? It's not just that, though. Their selection of mining and exploration equipment is meant to draw in knowledge of what sort of structure the mountains have, and how one might exploit them. Pavo's first instinct was to just bring the whole mountain down on top of the Bull's head, but who knows how that would end. If there's something particularly specific, something they can exploit, they want to find it out here.
Staren	Staren blinks at Miari. "Huh? Oh, snake oil salesman? I suspect they know very much what they are talking about: Separating customers from their money. ...Have you /never/ looked at advertisements while trying to find a product before?" She sounds slightly surprised.
Tomoe	The silver? What is being done with that? That's a heck of a good question bu there's no answer for the moment. She will press opn and sopme other questions end up gfetting answered. she humm about the hydroponic system? She can't argue with them wanting to keep outsiders away from it. Someone could wreck i and that would lead to hunger. She looks to Staren. "There's a sayi8ng back home there's a sucker born every moment." She does try ot use her imposing size to get Miari some breathign space. The talk og hte Underways sound promising though. "So what next and ya this is what happens with no regulations it's a free for all, buyer beware and all that."
Bloody Revelations	Most certainly, what Alucard feels might very well not be much different from walking the halls of Castlevania. The sensation is certainly much more elusive, like a dim memory or ephemeral daydream, but it certainly can't be mistaken for much else. Oddly, though, despite the fact that many of the foreign visitors are as tall, or taller than him, and the crowds grow very dense very quickly, he can't feel himself gaining any real distance from whatever it is that is interested in him. In the first place, it's difficult to really tell where it is in relation to him, but his senses bristle at low-level warning so continuously that it's like it must be tailing him by air or something. Indoors. His eyes won't show him much, but there's no way he could fail to miss that hint of effervescent bloodlust in the air, as distant and oddly ineffectual as it may be. It lacks the excitement of something ready and able to strike. If Miari cares to pay attention, she will find a small number of actually well-made talismans in amongst the mess, predominantly of the Wyld-warding variety, but with a nice Walkaway or two there. More importantly, she'll also be presented with a small variety of artifacts (in varying condition) that she will immediately recognize as small comforts or utilitarian gadgets in her distant, reincarnated memory; genuine, but at exorbitant prices. Soon enough, however, she will also be unable to fail to notice something else. When Alucard shuffles through the intersection ahead of her, just out of the corner of her eye, as if she had imagined it, she would feel like she spotted a patch of gleaming silver moving through the crowd. It's gone as quickly as she can look.
Bloody Revelations	The merchant Septette deals with voices quite vocal complaint about getting coins stuck in ice, but almost definitely appears to assume that he's just had the ill-fortune dealing with some dumb or cooky elemental-bound automaton on orders it doesn't understand well, and attributes little malice to the act, taking it inside to thaw at the end of the day. It's almost a fair trade. She'll notice that the two maps she has are actually /almost/ identical. That's really saying something. Her keen eye would easily notice that many of the cartography stalls aren't even trying to keep their wares straight, and are peddling maps that disagree on every detail excluding a few major landmark tunnels. The ones she has were, at the very least, draw by someone skilled at their trade. That doesn't necessarily make them accurate, but it's less likely that a professional would make things up out of thin air than a total amateur, especially with the decent level of care and detail present. Most of the Flotilla's questions get answers that tell them the guard, or the Janissary Vault, would be better to ask, but there are a few common threads. Things of the Wyld never come near the mountain, and so that which creeps up from below is significantly less fantastical, but also significantly less easy to predict or define. There are all sorts of stories, but they paint a consistent set of pictures: savage, barbarian underfolk; strange, skittering, man-eating critters; and occasionally things that take the shapes of men and eat folks in the night. Nothing especially mystical about it, just creepy and grim. The City Guard seems to take care of it with unusually heavy weaponry, tight formations, fortified positions and traps, extreme skill and bravery, and minor enchantments and talismans, are what they rely on. Gethamane is naturally built with hundreds of carefully designed choke points and kill boxes in mind already. The locals merely had to learn how to use its fortifications and charnel house antechambers, built by the original residents to murder invaders; or so it sounds. A veritable Thermopylae situation. The bottom levels are the most heavily defended, but also the wealthiest, and the locals take pride in their ability to defend themselves. The highest levels, which are technically the safest, are apparently regarded with little prestige, and are relatively poor. The very highest interior 'floor', furthest from the source of the food, is an ancient temple district that almost nobody lives in, and largely only crewed by crazy monks who claim that the old temples sent them dreams and instructions to do their bidding. They're largely ignored, save for when the city needs service in the form of exorcisms and the like, as they supposedly do possess genuine talent. Septette would be able to verify some of this very shortly. Any attempts at navigation leave her with very clear and well-kept civil maps and service routes of five city layers, like rings stacked upon one another. Indeed, the topmost is a temple district, and the one she is currently on (along with everyone else) is for visitors and traders, between an upper and lower set of residential districts. The upper is smaller and poorer, and the lower is larger and richer; she can tell that much in five minutes just by watching people go up and down their choice of stairs. She doesn't have much opportunity to wander either, however. She'll only have enough time to grasp the most basic of details and layout, involving more of those violet crystals, some sort of artificial day/night system in the ceilings, and cramped, orderly streets of stacked and partitioned apartments filling caverns top to bottom, before ever-present guards start asking her if she is, /perhaps/, lost, and if they may, /politely/, show her to the markets. The pale and quiet people she sees on the street make no effort to hide their stares and pointed fingers.
Alucard Tepes	Alucard dislikes being hunted, it sets off his predator sense. And it also makes that part of him that is his father's son very angry. He is no SHEEP to be preyed upon! But he keeps his outward reactions to the whole thing understated, his head still down and covered by the hood. But he has an idea to try to force this stalker out into the open. Particularly since he may not be the only one being followed, given what Miari has said over the radio. He murmurs this plan over the radio, meaning it too quiet to be heard over the city's crowds, and then heads towards the first reasonably isolated area he can find. A small, little used tunnel? The back area of a building in the market area? Whatever it is, he'll head for that area, and pretend to be stopping to think. He looks for all the world like he's a sitting duck there, paying zero attention to his surroundings while he thinks.
Septette Arcubielle	Stubborn though she may be, Septette is neither stupid enough to mistake an order for a request, nor foolhardy enough to pick a fight with the local guard in the middle of a scouting expedition. She plays it off as being simply an easily-confused machine- however much that may make her grit her teeth- and allows the guards to turn her around and march her right back to the market with a minimum of fuss. In fact, if anything, she may outpace her escorts- if only so that she can follow Alucard, remaining at a good distance. Her core may make it impossible for her to get too close without raising the stalker's suspicions, but she can cover ground as fast as anyone if it does decide to show itself.
Bloody Revelations	Staren, chasing down info on his chosen group, has some fair amount of success. Few people seem to take this 'Philosophy Cell' as anything serious, and are fine with sharing a bit of local colour, though one or two people swear up and down that they consort with Demons. They /probably/ can't exactly be a secret cabal of Arch-Liches though, since most of the leads he chases without paying just indicate him towards a number of public meeting rooms in the lower residential level. The two problems he runs into are minor, but stymieing. One, is that he gets much the same treatment as Septette, though it takes significantly longer for people to start paying enough attention to care. Two, is that, should he be stubborn, forthright, or sneaky enough to go anyways, he'll only be able to prod a bookie for the schedule, and find the next date the Cell is scheduled; very soon, but not today, it would seem. He can acquire a couple of names, if he wants to squeeze for info, but not much more before he'll wear out his welcome. Attempting to go any lower, for either Staren /or/ Septette, down to the fifth and lowest layer, is not possible to do publicly. At that point, the guards are very firm that they go no further, and will politely escalate to force should they not comply. It seems the city doesn't want outsiders even looking at the magical hydroponics, and getting to it would either entail stealth, or picking a fight; a poorly chosen one, given only the Flotilla have so much as fragmentary information on the city's defenses.
Miari	She's seething about the chaotic nature of the market right now, so making comments like those aren't terribly helpful. Miari FROWNS WITH STARK DISAPPROVAL at Tomoe's saying, and transitions into a sigh at Staren's breakdown of things. Looking away from all the hullaballoo means she barely spots a weird thing out of the corner of her eyes, however Essence-bolstered they are. It gets her double-taking and blinking at empty space with some subdued alarm. "Did anyone...?" Speaking into her radio next quickly brings forth a new plan of action. Miari moves to lazily follow after Alucard, keeping quite a good distance from him.
Tomoe	Tomoe not having magical senses does not beocme aware of if any of the talismans are legit ornot she'll trust Mairi and Staren on that one in the end. They know actual magic more than she does. She looks to her for a moment and says "I didn't sense a thing." She's looking at Miari for a moment. "It means people will try to play people for a easy mark...it's more of a warning really though, I like the older buyer beware." She moves to follow after Miari at a lazy pace as well keeping with her friend for the moment.
Staren	Well, at least he got info! And it seems they need to do a better job of blending in. Unfortunately, the lack of animals running around means using his cat shape won't help. They'll have to make a superior disguise somehow. She heads back to find Miari and help trail whatever's trailing Alucard.
Starbound Flotilla	So, Starbound knows what to do. For the most part. They know how to use certain chokepoints, and how to use certain weapons and certain formations, but they don't quite know how to handle GETTING there, not without, well, a bit of a fiasco. They know their target's under Gethamane, but if they can't get to the lower areas... "The others cannot reach a sufficient depth, it seems." "Goddamn bureaucrats. Starting to understand why George hates 'em." "Worried. How are we going to get to the tunnels? I do not want to... Cause trouble." "Floran not good at being disssguissse. Maybe sssmuggle?" "Unlikely to work. Not reliably." "Well why don't we just take, you know..." The whole Flotilla in their little sales stall say it at once. "The direct route." Of course. They don't even need to say it to each other, instead nodding to Pavo and letting her take off on her own. She begins her walk around, heading to the lowest areas she can make it to, and then... Trying to locate with a canny miner's eye, spaces that won't be noticed if the Flotilla drills a hole to just dig right around Gethamane and down to the space below.
Bloody Revelations	For the Flotilla, finding an acceptable place to stage a proper excavation break-in is more difficult than one might assume. Gethamane is /packed/, and furthermore, extremely orderly and well-guarded. People keep to the timetables, log practically everything they do, resources are allocated expertly with an army of bureaucrats, and the streets are swept by an army of skilled warriors for any sight of things from below. People are extremely sensitive to perceived intrusion, whether that be of their privacy, of their peace and quiet. The only abandoned blocks or seedy alleys they'll find are much further up the mountain, in the poorer layers, where the dig will take much longer. Their best bet are a handful of darkened corners in the city's omnipresent artificial lighting; areas where the crystals no longer glow. In fact, it looks like the crystals no longer /are/. Some time long ago, someone must have tried to reverse engineer the things, and realized they had no idea how to put them back together or make them work again, and swiftly given up on the attempt for the permanent damage it does to the city's safety and navigability. Predictably, nobody wants to live or be near these areas, small as the dark pockets may be. Were the Flotilla to use the typical tools of Creation for digging, or even more powerful, earth-shaping magic, it'd be flagrantly obvious even hiding it out of the way; the areas aren't /that/ secluded. Lucky as they are, though, matter manipulators are significantly more subtle, and just enough to get a secret staging area set up behind a few meters of stone and a sneaky entrance. It's doable alright. For Alucard, finding some privacy isn't nearly as hard. The merchant quarter is poorly organized, and the spots that are out of the way are, by necessity, not used by salesmen, as they'd be difficult places to attract customers from. The presence haunts him all the way there, without growing closer or more distant, and gives the others plenty of time to form up on him. When he stops at his most vulnerable and ostensibly careless position, however, nothing comes of it. The stalking entity fails to capitalize. In fact, he can get the faintest whiff of . . . frustration. Dim. Vague. Barely sentient, perhaps? The forlorn sense of a starved omega wolf watching the rest of the pack strip the carcass of a recent kill, knowing there will be nothing left for it. By the time the others arrive, it is already rapidly moving on. They catch only the barest glimpse. A flash of mercury. A streak of motion low to the ground. A quiet, slithering shuffle, almost hallucinated. That burst of movement from the corner of the eye, like the first sight of the monster ten minutes into a horror movie, not to be caught directly in frame for another two acts. Which is odd, because most of them don't have sorcerous sight, and the one who does, still can't catch it directly. Even for Miari, staring right at where it should be, she can only see it once it leaves her range of visual focus, just before it exits her cone of vision entirely, where her attention is present, but weakest. Whatever it is . . . it isn't magically cloaked, nor dematerialized. It's like it's barely there. Soon, it isn't there at all.
Alucard Tepes	Alucard frowns when he notes the pursuing thing has broken off. The flash of quicksilver seems to disappeared, but Alucard is convinced they're connected -- that feeling of being stalked, and the silver blur he keeps catching in his peripheral vision. But, since the presence seems gone, Alucard leaves the isolated area, going back to the populated areas. He didn't catch it this time. Perhaps they'll be another chance. Perhaps not. Either way, he goes to rejoin the group.