>>760897Fittingly, the groups split into different directions, wandering to the degree that they can for a suitable exit point from the Hanging Port. For a place named so, it is surprisingly difficult to leave it, you find. Even fliers and those skilled in long and high jumping find themselves tossed and turned by unwelcome gravitational pulls, which threatens to turn your departures into nauseating and potentially disastrous castaways into the Abyss without a guide. With that in mind, people quickly learn to stay on the ground, and walk for the remainder of the exit.
Soon enough, however, with enough reliable walking towards dark horizons, you reach them: Edges. Like seaside cliffs, they extend outward for a distance, before just dropping off. As you gather near to the edges, you hear sounds like something burning in reverse, behind you.
Each group, regardless of its members or its location, has found itself confronted by a rather peculiar individual. Each of them is worryingly tall. White shirt, black tie, shoulder-padded suit jacket, stubby legs with trousers and pointy, shiny shoes. Yet beneath the clothes, and puffing out of the openings in the shirt and jacket, is paper. Receipt paper, printer paper, newspaper; wadded, shredded, stained by ink and other, more mysterious liquids. Their forms are unevenly bulky and emaciated, lumpy and smooth. Your minds find themselves compelled to imagine grotesque faces out of the corners and angles of their jumbled-up heads. You can't tell if they're armed, but none of your allies even think to let down their guard around them.
The figures are silent, but each whips out a business card and presents it with a professional bow. "Belphecorp Certified Paper Trail," it reads.
Below that, you note a "Contact info" section. There is no conch code or mailing address there, but an obscene paragraph of text you don't recognize. Perhaps instructions for scrying, or summoning.
Shortly after presenting the card, each Paper Trail puts it away, not letting you keep it. It steps out towards the Abyss, and with experienced dexterity and balance, walks out into the darkness with no difficulty.
Silent and resolute, you step out into the darkness, following them, and leave behind the Hanging Port.
One group is played out by a soloist goat on a guitar. In short order, after having listened to the melody, a trumpeter elephant joins him.
https://youtu.be/PBSvp7ZBY_k 