Oriel sighed, and focused on us. “First, you have to understand that there is a strict caste system in Geburatiel, and Izrail as a whole. At the top, you have the Archons, with different rankings the closer they get to meeting the god face to face. The higher up you go, the more arrogant, and powerful, they get.
“Next, you have the Ordinals. These are creatures who have been born on the plane, and are infused with its magic. Like the Celestial creatures on other planes, but these are all aspected towards Law, which Torm values more highly.
“Then, you have the Celestials. We get both types popping up, here, because the magic is aspected towards law and goodness, but the celestial creatures are lower ranked than the ordinals. As in, even the ordinal beasts are ranked more highly than a Celestial Elf might be. You can bet that they are displeased with that.
“And, finally, you have the Impure. All those of mixed, or ‘dirty’ blood, like myself, and those that sired and bore them. To most of the city, we might as well be something nasty to scrape off the bottom of your boot, but their own sense of righteousness won’t let them just slaughter us without cause. Well, not normally. There are rumors that some of the archons engage in ‘purification hunts’, where they go and try to ‘cleanse’ the city of its ‘impurities’.”
I nodded once, to show I’d heard. “The more peoples I deal with, the more I realize they’re all the same. Some are just more honest with themselves than others. But what can you tell us about the new portal? Where is it located, and how is it guarded?”
Oriel took a breath. “The portal was opened in the main square, right in front of the Temple of Justice. As a ‘coincidence’, the Temple Knights were changing the guard at that exact moment, so there were plenty of the holier-than-thou types to strike and secure the breach, the moment it happened. And there just so happened to be mages in the area who were able to stabilize the portal and force it to remain open.
“The Knights poured through the portal, and started slaughtering all those that were not pure. Basically, anyone ‘tainted’ by Evil or Chaos. I hear that more than a few slaves were surprised that their sudden ‘deliverance’ came up short, with a sword through their heart.”
She shook her head. “The army came up, soon after, and began pushing out into the city, taking it in Torm’s name. But that was just what they could do with the troops near the capital. A full invasion requires more preparation, and proper supply lines to be laid, which is why the commanders have focused on securing their foothold.”
“How very… convenient,” I drawled out. “A bit too convenient, by the sound of things. It certainly has worked out well for Torm that the portal was placed so fortuitously, and at a time that there were even more troops than normal on hand. Do you think that he had something to do with it?”
Oriel shrugged her shoulders. “Far be it for me to judge what goes through the minds of gods, but my work has gotten me eyes and ears in different parts of the city. Wine loosened a few lips amongst the ordinals in the weeks before the portal opened. They were talking about how they had managed to send some of their number across to the material plane, through more temporary measures. The lawfully appointed spies of the realm, the Shadowspeakers, are supposed to be among them.”
Vestele bit back a curse. “Then it is all but certain that the portal was arranged by Torm, as a way to legitimize an invasion of the material plane by his archons. And, with the portal being in a country as wicked as Thedra, there would be no complaint from the other goodly gods about him overstepping, at least not at first.”
Fartooth made a disgusted sound. “This is always how it is! The ‘good’ types do what they want, and then find some way to justify it later. At least kobolds are honest about what we want!”
Siora nodded, mirroring Fartooth’s attitude. “Indeed. You see it all the time in the material plane. You would be shocked to know how many great and powerful members of ‘righteous’ faiths often patronize the brothels run by servants of Malcanthet. Worse are how many of them try to make it out like they were there to minister to the ladies, when everyone knows they were there to get their pipes cleared.”
I sighed. “All right. So, what kinds of protections are around the portal? I assume we won’t be able to just walk up to it and start playing around.”
“You’re right, there. The entire mid-part of the city has been locked down by the army. No one without authorization goes in or out. They’ve even set troops in the sewers, to keep anyone from using them to sneak about. And ‘invisibility purge’ has been the most commonly cast spell in the city ever since the portal opened.”
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“Right, so, fighting our way through would be suicide, and trying to sneak in is not likely to work, either. That means we’re going to have to come up with something else. Some way to get ourselves on the authorized lists.”
Oriel looked each of us over. “That… could be possible, but it would take a lot of work. I can’t intervene directly, for obvious reasons, but I can point you in the right direction. First, however, we’ll need to make you look less… like you. You said you have magic items to hide your nature. Do they also extend to changing your appearance?”
I nodded. “Yes, it is a simple disguise spell, but it could make us appear to be of a different race, provided the changes weren’t too radical.”
“Excellent. In that case, we can disguise most of you as ordinals. So long as you hide the imagery of your chosen gods, that will go a long way towards making you blend in with the rest of the crowd. It still won’t get you into the inner city, or to the portal itself, but it will allow you to start making inroads and working your way towards those goals.”
“All right. What should we do, then? None of us have ever seen an ordinal before.”
Oriel grinned. “Well, fortunately for you, I also find a good disguise useful, from time to time. Most ordinals are some form of stone-like color, usually a grey, white, or black. Eyes are generally a gem color. Most of them, if they held still, would look as if they were sculptures carved from stone.”
As she spoke, she reached up to a pin in her hair, and, when she touched it, her features changed. Her ebony skin turned a pale white, and her hair took on a marbled look. Her eyes shone like emeralds, and the wings on her back also looked as though they were made of marble.
“This is what an ordinal avariel, or winged elf, would look like, or at leas the ones from the city. There are other colorations, as you go out around the plane, but these are the most common nearby. There’s some superstition about the white-skinned ordinals being more ‘good’, and the black-skinned ones being more ‘evil’, or at least harbingers of bad luck, but those have long since been disproven, and only fools believe such things these days.”
“Unless, of course, they’re looking for an excuse to meddle with the social rankings, right?”
Oriel nodded. “Indeed. It isn’t as official as most of the caste system, but white-skinned ordinals are more likely to be leaders, or members of high society. Likewise, black-skinned ordinals tend to be relegated to lesser positions, and many are forced into the army, or other professions requiring brute strength. Death rates for black-skinned ordinals is three times that of the white-skinned.”
“Which do you suggest? Being higher ranked would help us, but it may lead to questions about where we came from all of a sudden.”
“No, I would suggest a Grey-skinned or Black-skinned. Most of the local white-skinneds know each other, by family name, if nothing else. Using one of the existing white-skinned lines as a cover is out of the question. They would know their cousins, even if they came from out of town, especially for the more tight-knit, rarer clans, like the local avariels are.”
Under Oriel’s guidance, I used the disguise magic worked into my hat to craft a disguise. My skin became an onyx color, with my hair becoming a darker grey, like slate. My ears grew points like an elf’s, and my face looked thinner, giving me an elven look. My eyes became glistening obsidian, and my wings, they turned from raven black to onyx, matching my skin.
“Excellent,” Oriel nodded. “You look just like one of the nomadic clans that live out in the further reaches of the plane, where rifts form to the Clockwork Nirvana of Mechanus. They often act as mercenaries, guarding traders who do business with that plane, or others, so no one will expect to know you.”
Each of us got our turn under Oriel’s practiced eye. Ebonheart became an pearl-white unicorn, nearly the polar opposite of my new color. Fartooth, on the other hand, became a grey-skinned gnome, as that group was known for their mental prowess, and their mercenary nature, which meant that they were one of the few types of gnome to be seen in the capital with any regularity. The poor kobold was not entirely happy with the disguise, but it was better than certain death, so he acquiesced.
Finding a suitable guise for the twins, however, was more problematic. The elves of Izrail were some of the most connected of all the different natives to the plane, discounting, of course, the avariels. Eventually, it was decided that the twins would just keep their wings, which they usually hid with their magic, out, and made their colors match my own.
That actually worked for the best. A trio of black-skinned avariels working together, with some companions made along the way, would serve as a solid cover story. We could enter the city, looking for opportunities, since news of the portal and the growing war had spread across the plane already.
Indeed, we wouldn’t be the first group of mercenaries, or merchants, to come from the outer reaches. While there was not a dramatic increase in commerce, there were at least one or two new merchants in town each day, and mercenaries always accompanied them, their nose for a fight telling them that there was coin to be made. It would not raise too much suspicion if we played that part.
When we all had our disguises in place, Oriel nodded, approvingly. “Right, now you look foreign enough that people won’t be wondering why they haven’t seen you at the clan gatherings, but not so foreign as to draw unwanted attention. But you’re going to need more than just that, and whatever words you can whisper in a guard’s ear, to get into the inner city, and find out a way to take care of the portal. You’ll need some way to prove your worth, before anyone will take you seriously.”
“So, if we’re mercenaries, then the obvious solution would be to go on a hunt, and bring some beast’s carcass back with us, right?”
“Normally, yes. But in this case, the powers-that-be are more alert than usual. Even the dumbest archon knows there’s a difference between fighting beasts and fighting people. And if you’re wanting to have some degree of autonomy, as a special squad, or something more, then you’ll want to make yourselves out to be hunters of men.”
The winged drowess smiled, wickedly. “Fortunately for you, I know of a target that will both suit your goals, and further my own. There is a Paragon who has been trying to force his way into my affairs. The Archons know about him, but they haven’t been able to find a way to deal with him, yet, in part because he, like you, uses magic to hide himself from their scrying magic. I do not have the combat strength to take him on, but you? You are capable fighters, from Trystrem’s message. If you were to claim the Paragon’s head, then you would prove your worth, and then some.”
“Well, that sounds promising. From your smile, I assume that you have some idea of where the mark is already, so we don’t have to go searching the whole of Izrail for him. But what, pray tell, is a Paragon, and what is the best way to kill one?”