Charles’ Workshop
Hidden beneath the bustling streets of Sigil, the City of Doors, lies a secret necromancer’s laboratory, concealed beneath the unassuming facade of a horologist’s shop. The shop itself, known as Time’s Labyrinth, is a respectable establishment, filled with ticking clocks, intricate timepieces, and an assortment of delicate gears and cogs, attended by the enigmatic, golden eyed, horologist. Unbeknownst to most, however, this clockwork haven hides a dark secret.
Access to the laboratory is carefully concealed by a hidden trapdoor beneath a false floor, located in the back room of the horologist’s shop. Those who know the secret and can bypass the arcane wards are granted entry to a winding staircase, which descends into the depths below Sigil.
The underground laboratory is an eerie fusion of clockwork and necromancy, reflecting the horologist’s twisted passions. The walls of the chamber are lined with shelves full of meticulously organized gears, springs, and other horological components, alongside ancient grimoires, arcane scrolls, and forbidden tomes detailing the dark arts of necromancy.
Dim, magical lighting bathes the room in a cold, otherworldly glow, casting flickering shadows on the various workstations scattered throughout the space. These workstations are a peculiar blend of clockwork and arcane apparatuses, where the horologist combines their expertise in both fields to create horrifying, time-bending necromantic creations.
The chamber is filled with the unnerving sounds of ticking clockwork, whispers of spirits, and the occasional hiss of steam as the horologist’s various experiments come to life. The laboratory is also home to several warped timepieces, which appear to function erratically, their hands spinning in unnatural patterns as they manipulate the flow of time within the confines of the hidden lair.
The centerpiece of the laboratory is a large, iron-framed table, where the horologist assembles their macabre clockwork constructs, fusing the remains of the dead with intricate mechanical components. These eerie creations blend the precision of clockwork with the dark energies of necromancy, resulting in animate beings that defy the natural order of life and death.
Right now though, the table is half covered by a mountain of gold coins. A figure kneels under the table, scooping coins from the floor to his hand. When he hears you enter, he stops, turns and looks over his shoulder, tries to get up and knocks his horns on the underside of the table. “It wasn’t my fault…” the tiefling begins to say before the your goldeneyed guide steps forward and shouts “My HOARD!”
The horologist seems to grow out of his skin and changes before you into a golden wyrm…a small one. He strides towards the table and picks up a small ripped black bag, looks at it and then turns toward the tiefling. The tiefling shrugs and says “It ripped.”