Whirrun shrugs "My preference is feeling them when they die. Feeling the shuddering as they stop breathing, feel the bones cracking"
After Kedrick asks Natalia about the missing member, Martil shifts her head to the left, and asks the three crime family members, "Any idea when we find out the organization's decision? She smiles at Ragar, while casually brushing against both Natalia's leg and Kedrick's forearm. Outwardly the drow displays a cool confidence but inside her mind there is a hint of self doubting. Who is this missing member Rupert?
Natalia puts her arm around Martil shoulder, signify to Kedrick that she has laid claim to this one. "Oh don't you worry about that just yet. Our leaders are watching us as we speak. They will make their presence known after we have gotten to know each other a little bit!"
Feeling the cool chill flow through her skin, she shivers slightly.Perhaps a little catfight for me, she giggles to herself. She gives a quick glance at Kedrick that clearly indicates not to worry her hunger is not easily sated.
Kedrick grins and winks at Natalia's look. She obviously doesn't realize that I could care less about those desires. They are just an end to a means.
They are watching. They are always watching.
Whirrun motions with his head towards the two ladies "I'd be watching too"
Yes, they are indeed a distraction, but one you have to keep in the back of your mind if you are to be on top of your game. You learn to use those wiles to your advantage when on a mission, believe me.
Ragar winks at Lady natalia openly.
"So how long has your companion Rupert... was that his name...Rupert... been gone?" The drow asks Ragar, but clearly suggesting anyone could answer. "What I gather from Kedrick's question to Natalia was nobody has seen him for few days...or longer?" She is trying to piece bits of information together. "Does he disappear often or is there a suspicion of foul play," her eyes shift to each person around the bar. The shift in her personality from the teasing playful drow to a more serious investigator is obvious.
Whirrun sips his new drink (a water) and listens to the conversation, but remains mostly quiet
Lady Natalia drains her second glass of wine "I do hope our benefactors reveal themselves soon. It will be nice to get back on the job after so many months away!"
The door swings open yet again, and a young man with a blond ponytail enters. His shirt is dirty and faintly rumpled and a pair of manacles dangles off one wrist. He stands in the doorway for a moment, blinking as his eyes adjust and he shivers involuntarily. Spotting the throng of people gathered around the usual table, his face breaks into a grin and he saunters over.
"My favorite bunch of cut-throats and blackhearts! Looks like I'm late to the party." Glancing around the group, his gaze stops on Kedrick and his grin turns into a frown. "You're in my seat."
The attractive drow smiles at the unkempt newcomer, "Ah, you must be the famed missing Rupert," she says, as she stands, offering her hand, "I'm Martil Nightwalker at your service." Her voice is cool and measured. She motions to the other recruits, "We were just getting to know your friends."
Rupert raises an eyebrow as he takes the hand and the dangling manacle jangles. "At my service, eh?" He gives Ragar a lopsided grin. "I forgot how much I love new recruits." Looking back at the drow, he says, "Now what's this about being famous? Have they been telling stories? Don't believe a word of it!" He pauses a moment to think, before amending his statement. "Well, the good ones, anyway. You should probably believe the bad ones."
Whirrun stands up to his full height and offers Rupert his hand "Whirrun. Call me cracknut Whirrun if you want, just don't ask why" he says with a dark smile
Kedrick smiles at Rupert and then flips him a bird. I saved this seat for you friend!
Ragar winks at Rupert, then looks to the manacles on his hands, and with a smile says.
Have some problems out there, or were you just slummin' with the criminals again, Rupert?
Rupert looks down at the manacles and sighs exasperatedly. "It would appear that the church of Abadar made their donation to the city guard a bit early this year." The grins returns, accompanied by a short laugh. "It seems they squandered most of it with an elaborate banquet and sturdier cuffs, but their cells are as easy to slip as ever!"
He reaches to take Whirrun's hand, but stops short at 'cracknut'. He looks down at the hand suspiciously before lowering his own. Addressing the table at large, he inquires, "So, what's for dinner?"
Whirrun grins "Don't worry, I wash my hands. So you're a regular in the cells eh? I try to avoid going that far. I can stay quiet easily enough but I have trouble fitting between the bars"
Wonder when that yearly donation occurs, now that could be some interesting sport...easy money. She listens and observes while sipping her black firewhiskey enjoying the smooth liquor.
Martil answers Rupert's question, "I'd like pheasant sliced down, with a cranberry chutney, fireroasted potatoes liberally coated with cumin, rock salt and coarse black pepper on a bed of black Andoran rice." She smiles, "that or a bloody T-bone." She offers. "Well that's what I'm in the mood for."
A gorgeous tiefling waitress comes around shortly after Martil 'places' her order, carrying the Drow's meal on a platter. She sets it down in front of her, and along with normal silverware is what is obviously a acceptance. A blood knife, which looks just like the others she has seen, is included with the standard utensils.
Kedrick winks at Martil. It seems our benefactors have spoken. Congratulations Martil.
Whirrun glances out of the corner of his eye, and notices the knife "Well, it was surprisingly a pleasure. Perhaps another time, maybe I'll cross paths with the blood knives again one day" he gulps the rest of his drink and with a wave departs
Martil picks up the blood knife, examining it's detail, noting the craftsmanship, design and weight. Spinning the blade in her hand, "The weight and balance is perfect, it is as if the dagger was made for my hand."
Don't give up so quickly Whirrun. The night is still young.
"I'm look forward to joining your team." She winks back at Kedrick.
Rupert pulls up a chair from a different table, shooting Kedrick a dirty look.
Gods know we don't need any more 'bedroom specialists'. She must have some useful hidden talents, he thinks, eying the knife and its new owner. Hungrily, he turns his gaze toward her dinner. That is, besides what appears to be a deceptively complex palette.
The aroma of pheasant wafts up to the drow, she reluctantly sets the ornate dagger down in front of her. Replacing it with the utensils, she expertly cuts her pheasant and begins to ravenous devour her meal. Savor the finer delicacies of life, who knows if it'll be your last.
Her mind is racing when she glances over at Rupert's dangling manacle. Enjoy life to the fullest, the next prison may not be so easy to escape from. Finally her eye catches Natalia's and she winks. Looking forward to desert.
Ragar leans forward over the bar and catches the attention of the Drow. He winks and raises his mug in a congratulatory jesture.
Martil lifts her cup in response to Ragar's gesture.
Natalia gives the young drow a smile, "Welcome to the club! We'll have to figure out your initiation later!"
A wicked little smile emerges.
Eyes flicking over, Whirrun nods "Congrats Martil" he raises his cup and takes a long drink Well that's not much of a surprise, she seemed a favorite. So, one spot down...
She raises her cup to the monk and nods her appreciation.
She then looks closely at Whirrun, Shula and Maudril, "Seems like the benefactors are not done selecting, each of you have special talents that are useful, the decision proves to be a challenge."
"So Maudril," pausing between bites to speak, "...what special fun did you brew for that vial you placed on the table? Your own creation you mentioned." Her thin eye brows raise, "Is it a contact concoction what's the effect and preferred method of delivery?" She sips her firewhiskey then turns to the lovely Shula.
"You have a deceptively devious manner about yourself," there is flash of in her eye when she mentions deception, "you seem quick with that slender dagger, is it often coated with poison when you strike from the shadows?" She lets the questions linger before continuing her fine meal.
Glancing at Rupert, Whirrun settles back He has sharp eyes, he's sizing all of us up. All the while putting a face on it Whirrun smirks at the irony of that thought, as he literally already has a number for each of them in his head. And Martil, she has an entirely different way of learning people. She appeals to their interests and gets them talking, all while politely mentioning nothing of herself. Versatile indeed His eyes move to the orc Seems more honest if nothing else, but I bet he has a few personal rules as well. I really should spar with him sometime his thoughts turn to Kedrick One of the pretty spell casters, he probably enjoys using his power to trick and manipulate. His favor would be infinitely useful finally he thinks of Natalia Just like nature, two sides to the coin, except both sides of her are cold. Somebody who's good side you want to be on or you might wake up with a lower body temperature
Maudril face suddenly changes as if he had forgotten something extremely important. With a little more energy than an old man should have, he jumps out of his seat and bolts for the door talking to himself about what seems to be nonsense. Boiled and turned, blasted experiment, can't believe I forgot about....
"The dagger?" the kyton-spawn says curiously, looking at her blade as if unsure where it came from. "No, I only use the dagger with my friends and one should never poison one's friends."
She looks to the side warily, and then leans close to whisper. "Not without a reason, at least."
"As far as deceptive and devious goes," she shrugs. "People think so, just because my father is a beast from hell who eats mortal's death agony with his breakfast. I've never pretended to aspire to anything higher. With me, what you see is what you get."
She tosses her dagger in the air at that, and Vanishes. The dagger lands point down on the seat where she had been sitting, and her laughter sounds from behind the drow.
Then there were two...
"Yes my dear Ragar, it appears the weak willed are not suited for our tasks. More the better for us!"
"Better to weed out the lesser seeds now then when our lives are at stake."
Rupert laughs at the drow. "Us? You may have a knife, but you still have yet to prove yourself, new blood." Rupert looks to Lady Natalia, suddenly curious. "So, what happened to you back in Nidal? The others wouldn't say..."