If Hell had a Travel Agent

The Marquis of Chute de L’Ombre had never been called a bastion of sanity and clearly thought-out reasonable behavior. The gnomes that lived in Castle Cambion quite enjoyed the chaos that the Marquis created and thrived in, but there would be little doubt that anyone else would have particularly wanted to have immersed themselves in that environment. However, there were some problems that might arise in this corner of the world that the Marquis and all of his roaring bizarreness were ideally suited to help with.

Now it was certainly an established fact that few people in Partum required or could afford the services of the Marquis in his professional capacity. In fact, it probably wasn’t even known to those closest to him what his professional capacity consisted of. Other than hosting wild parties and overpaying for polka bands the Marquis wasn’t usually sought out for anything. He did manage to keep a lot of important information at his fingertips but that wasn’t sought after, either. And while the most important tool in his arsenal of oddly specific implements wasn’t exactly a secret, it was such a strange and wondrous thing that the very idea of it was enough to boggle the minds of even the most well-studied of sages.

Of course, the Marquis managed to play off much of his power by artfully if not masterfully playing the fool. People that frequented his court would argue with a great deal of persuasion that the Marquis wasn’t playing at the role. He was really that much of a buffoon. Likeable, dangerous, and utterly unpredictable, but a goof all the same.

It would then be a surprise for those observers to know that the Marquis had an inkling about what was going on in regard to the one known night hag residing in nearby Lotharingia. The Marquis had other inklings as well. There was a lot going on in this world that the Marquis had claimed as his home. Strange, horrifying things that spelled disaster for the mortals he lived among. Life-sucking monstrosities were crossing across planar boundaries unchecked. The reality of this world was being tampered with in a way the Marquis could only speculate at. There were terrible things afoot. The Marquis had escaped the outer planes because they were literally damnation incarnate. Now something powerful beyond measure was working to turn this world into the same thing.

The Marquis spent a lot of time pondering what would need to be done. This wasn’t something that could be done in the safety of Castle Cambion. Therefore, it wasn’t something he wanted to do. Somebody else would have to do it. But what it was, and how it could be done, that was going to remain unknown unless somebody sought out the Marquis to inquire about what he knew. And if they wanted his help to travel across the planes, the Marquis would help with that, too.

They would have to ask him, though. Seek out the weirdo and ask him for his help. That was just part of the risk of doing business with hell’s travel agent.