Golarion's Darklands are feared by many. The depth of the earth are filled with mystery and danger in equal measure and most sane people avoid them like the plague. Only a few on the surface realize that entire empires spanning the lengths of continents exist beneath their feet, ruled over by drow, duergar, and other races less known and more dangerous. But those who actually dwell in the Darklands are inevitably a proud people. For they have survived and thrived in the hostile world beneath the earth. And even if they are hard and cruel, they will fight to the death to protect their place in the world.
In the second layer of the Darklands, known by its inhabitants as Sekamina, the drow hold sway, their empire spreading from the crown of the world south to the massive underground body of water known as Lake Nirthran, or more colloquially the Dying Sea. The waterways of their empire are ruled by river boats and reckless swashbuckling pirates who challenge blind leviathans, massive albino sea monsters, and worse things for dominance of the underground seas. Many of these wild souls make their homes in Telderist, the pirate's haven on the northern shores of the Dying Sea where no one but the pirate lords hold sway. But things lurk in the deep that seek to dominate all that they see before them and the denizens of the Darklands will not let themselves be taken without a fight. In Telderist, the drow controlled Nightrunners Guild seeks adventurers, mercenaries, and other interested parties for a venture into the tunnels that could be the first step in uncovering secrets hidden from even the great drow houses.
He continues to sip on the drink he ordered observing the rest of the patrons with disinterest.
With ample time to arrive at the Guildhall, A'streth stands up and heads out the back door of the Tavern. Once he is out of sight of those within, he takes the appearance of a drow. One who is neither hig nor lowborn but one that possesses a slight limp.
Arriving early he cases the Guildhall twice before settling into a position to see who besides himself, may arrive.
He wants to be the last to arrive and if not the last, wants to ensure no one else arrives at all. Thirty seconds before the time of the meeting is when he will make his entrance.
Stretching her arms, Valiana quickly assembles her clothes in a semblance of fashion, before going on a quick (and, thankfully, short) adventure to find her right boot. "Ugh. I'm never playing that drinking game again.", she murmurs to herself as she untangles an earring from her hair, placing it on her pointed ear. Ten minutes in front of the mirror later, she marches downstairs with a wide, shameless grin at the barkeep. "You know you love the business!", she shrugs as she leans on the bar to read her letter. Huh. Nightrunners?, she raises an eyebrow as she bites her lip with her tusk. If there's one thing you can say about the Nightrunners, is that you can't say just one thing about the Nightrunners., she rolls the phrase in her head. Sounds better in my head. And I am dangerously close to bankrupcy., she quickly rationalises.
Picking her hat up from the bar, the large half-orc sets out from the gate with an impressive gait, stopping only once she'd reached the Nightrunners' Guild's gate, knocking heavily.
Miriel is happy to be at home in her private sea-side domicile when she opens up the first of her letters for she cannot hide the disdain on her face as soon as her eyes fall on the Azrinae crest embossed in the wax. Her eyes skimming across the writing, she tosses the paper away to the floor with a roll of her eyes. She slouches back in her chair, crossing her arms and pursing her lips like a petulant child. From behind her head, a long tentacle, golden with glowing blue rings, snakes out and caresses her cheek fondly. She can't help but smile, just a little, at the gesture.
"I know, Caramia, my love," she says, sighing. "We'll figure this out together."
The next letter puts her in much better spirits. She just needed a little more time, after all, and the Nightrunners were prestigious enough amongst all of the drow houses that performing tasks for them would allow her to move about freely, unquestioned. Though clearly, not for much longer.
"I suppose my fiancee deserves some sort of a reply," she huffs. Reaching for a quill and some parchment, she contemplates her response for a moment, then draws out a reply in elegant elven script*:
To my beloved Kaelmourne,
Patience, my love. I shall return to you very soon, and then nothing in this world shall keep us apart. Just nine months remain before I shall never have to miss your loving embrace again. What is nine months compared to the centuries we shall face, together, hand in hand?
Just yesterday I met with the seamstress - you know, the one I spoke of, from Giratayn - to evaluate the dress designs my mother had commissioned. I have to admit, I did not like any of them, and asked for her to create something more worthy of me. I know that you will not be angry with me, I only want for things to be perfect on our special day.
For now, I must respond to a summons from my house. The Guild has need of my talents. You know that if I could, I would share details, but you understand our need to keep such secrets out of our letters to one another.
I look forward to seeing you soon.
Your dearest Miriel.
Miriel grimaces, as if even writing the words were painful to her. Once she was done, she rolls up the script and stamps the letter closed with wax and her house's seal using her signet ring. Wrapping her body in a long spider-silk gown, she heads out into the house.
"Vaelia," she says, gesturing for one of her slaves. "Ensure this letter is delivered to my fiancee," she commands. "Kenra," she commands to another, "Come, I must prepare for a journey. Help prepare my clothes."
Once she is ready to leave, Miriel changes out of her robe into something more practical (though not too practical - appearances were everything, after all), a tan skirt below a white chemise, and a tight-fitting yellow corset with black ties. Her long, high heeled brown boots bear multiple straps with brass buckles designed to accentuate her long legs, and she wears a distinctive bracer on her left forearm that resembles fronds of intertwined seaweed. Her hair she wears in an elaborate braided up-do - it took two different slaves worth of work to accomplish - on the back of which a small octopus is attached. Its tentacles weave into her braids, securing it into position from which it does little but occasionally writhe an odd tentacle or two across her head or neck, though the way it surveys its environment betrays its keen intelligence.
Miriel calls for a chauffeur to escort her to the guild hall. Despite her familial ties to the guild, she does not dare being late. She passes by A'streth without a second glance, though unlike Valiana, she doesn't bother knocking. She simply lets herself in, brushing past the half-orc as she does without acknowledgement. And why shouldn't she? Her family owns this place.
Korva called out that he would be just a moment when he heard the knock at the door. He put a few notations on the side of the map, started to stand, then sat and finished penciling in the last corner of the draft before rising and half jogging to the door. He tilts his head to the side as he is informed of Master Livrist’s request for his presence. Bowing his head slightly he thanks the messenger and says simply, “Of course, please convey to Master Livrist my appreciate for his consideration and inform him that I will be over as soon as I finish inking my current set of maps.”
With that he returned to his seat at a slightly cluttered table, filled with his supplies in such an array that likely on he could make sense of it. After pondering for a moment what would make the leader of the Nightrunners himself request his presence. A wry smile creeps over his lips as he reaches for the ink pot to begin penning over his previous pencil sketches of his most recent set of maps--the ones depicting the several tunnels in the western side of the city that till now had gone unmapped. Although he would not rush and make his work sloppy, there was a certain eagerness to his actions as he finished his work for the day and went to see what it was the Night Master needed of him.
Nimue glowers slightly at the large statue of Nocticula towering over her, as she performs her daily obedience's and rituals in service of her patron. Nimue liked know who was a likewise follower, and who likewise wasn't, considering it useful to know which houses people belonged to. Nimue wasn't shy about hiding her own religion, it wasn't as if she felt she needed to be scared about hiding it.
Upon receiving the message from the guild agent, Nimue considers the development, before ultimately deciding it was worth pursuing. It seemed that the Nightrunners were always busy as the priestess duly arriving at his office upon the appointed time, at ease and relaxed about the summons.
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The day had been going swimmingly so far, what with their returning to port successfully. Having a runner show up not long after their disembarking was a bit of a surprise, however. Not in a they know we're here sort of sense--everyone was spying on everyone all the time here--but in a we care that you're here sense. Prior to now, though they'd been on several runs for the Nightrunners, no one had expressed any direct interest in them. Instead he'd had to go looking for the postings directly.
Opening the missive, he quickly recognizes the cipher. "Oh, an invitation, I do so love these, Tormhul!" Aramondis says, looking at a dwarf with a grin, "and not even from someone who wants us dead! The day is looking up!" He briefly reads the vague note and then tears it up, handing the shreds to Tormhul. "For Crick? Krunk? Krak? You know... char-face."
"Kr'kl'pop," the duergar responds dryly, taking the scraps.
"Right, that's what I said, Ksomethingorother. Whatever your flame-y friend is named. Ugh Ignan," he says with a half-chuckle, half-exasperated sigh. Tormhul's elementals were quite useful, but damned if he could ever remember their names or even talk to them. "I'm off then!" With an imperious sweep of his cape, Aramondis turns and heads out. He had plenty of time before he had to show up, and there was a bordello near by filled with all the companionship and alcohol he needed to pass the time until then.
Aramondis stumbles to the door several hours later, appearing slightly disheveled. Turning back, he calls to the proprietress, "You don't let those half-elven twins go anywhere, I think I'm in love with both of them!" He turns and blows a kiss to his still half-dressed companions, his gaze lingering on their two vastly different forms for a moment before turning to leave. Grabbing the sides of his cape, he wraps himself briefly in it before spinning around once and opening it back up, revealing his clothes to be in perfect shape again. "Perfect, to the meeting then!"
Aramondis strides into the Nightrunner's guild looking rather pleased. He walks past all of the people milling about and heads straight to Master Livrist's office. Gracefully entering through the door he sidesteps the others, pointedly ignoring even the obviously noble drow woman, winding up in front of them. Doffing his hat and bowing briefly, he says "Captain Aramondis Ja'kyorai, as summoned," obviously putting on a show. He stands back up and adjusts his hat, making certain it was as jauntily tilted and its plume fashionably arranged as when he'd taken it off.
You've met Livrist more than a few times before. As both a male and an employee of your house, not greeting you in person when you arrived to join the guild would have been a grave insult. You know very little about his personal history, but you know that he's skilled both as an administrator and a killer. He's nearly always focused on business, often to the point of gruffness, and he gives no one, not even you, much special treatment. Though he has made it clear that he values your skills, as he does with most of his best people.
It takes nearly an hour for everyone to gather at the guildhall, and the day's work is nearly done for the staff. Most of you know where the Master's offices are by now, and those that don't are pointed there by slightly hurried clerks or guards in the front lobby. You soon find yourselves gathered in a large meeting room with half a dozen chairs arranged in a semi-circle before a desk. A few maps and banners cover the walls, carrying depictions of the local area and bearing symbols of Telderist, House Misraria, Nocticula, and the Nightrunners themselves. Livrist however seems to be running a few moments late, or perhaps you're all a few moments early, leaving you waiting for him with your potential companions. Many of you recognize them as members of different teams and branches in the Nightrunners, but there are outsiders among you as well. Whatever Livrist has planned, it must be something quite peculiar.
The lone serpentfolk in the room appears rather common, his eyes are so green they almost glow though perhaps it is the brownish goldish tint of his scales that give them that appearance. His movements are somewhat slow as if he is dim witted and a bit clumsy in his gait. He does not engage in small talk and asks no questions gazing at each of you in turn as if barely registering your presence staring through you. Strapped to his back is an elven curved blade with a rapier at his left hip. His boots and cloak are of fine elven make. Loose fitting clothing covers anything else he may possess with the exception of a full quiver on his back. At his feet rests a small backpack made of a sturdy substance.
He mutters to himself in the Aklo language as if a bit touched.
Valiana raises an eyebrow at the drow. I'd ask who does she think he is, but I know exactly what she thinks she is., the half-orc's expression remains slightly confused, as she gives a glinting, tusked smile at the guard. "Thanks, honey.", she replies, nodding down with a curtsy, her crimson silken shirt flowing around.
Trotting up the stairs loudly, Valiana makes her way into the office, giving long, impressed looks at the surroundings as she cools herself with her fan, an embossed picture of a golden dragon stretched between the prongs. Well, they're kind of a big deal, aren't they., she ponders, hand playing around with her golden bracelets. And NOT staring at the ornamentation is a bit insulting to the host.
Glancing at the enthusiastic and cocky entry by the male drow, Valiana manages to resist the urge to 'accidentally' stretch her foot in the man's boots. A guy pulling that stuff's got to be either competent, or stupid., she ponders, before her eyes glance to his hat. "Nice hat.", she lets out, giving the drow a wink from under her own opulent headwear.
Korva waits patiently, hands clasped behind his back as he looks at the various maps hung up in the Master’s office. They were beautifully drawn and inked pieces. One day he knew his own work would hang next to them, but not quite yet. Not only were these maps exquisitely accurate but they were beautifully drawn as well. For years he had focused on function over form and although he was quickly learning to balance both he was still a fairly new member of the Nightrunners. As people arrived he nodded with varying degrees of politeness and deference, as would be expected of him. A few of the people he knew, he worked with them from time to time in the Nightrunners. But several of them were people he had not yet met. The serpentfolk was a curious sight, he couldn’t say he had ever met many of them. When the man began muttering to himself in Aklo Korva couldn’t help listening in. A wry grin spread over his face as he realized the creature was detecting magic inside the room. He raised his eyebrows in a silent acknowledgement that he knew what the man was doing, but he did not actively comment on it.
When a man with a rather extravagant hat makes his way into the room, pushes to the front and then introduces himself to the room at large apparently Korva politely coughs under his breath and explains, “Master Livrist is not actually here yet. I am sure he would wish everyone to make themselves comfortable and should be along shortly. The Nightrunners just finished up the days activities moments ago.”
He nods his head to the half-orc woman who walked in behind the male drow and then goes back to inspecting the finer points of the maps hung behind the desk while he waits to see who else makes an appearance.
Miriel strides in and takes a seat, clasping her hands in front of her on the table. On one hand is a signet ring of house Misraria, same as the banner hanging on the wall. On the other, a beautiful engagement ring, set with an enormous diamond at its center, and surrounded with smaller, glittering precious blue stones. She sits with impeccable posture, head tilted to the side and back as she curiously regards the others. Superficially, they looked like a scruffy, mis-matched bunch, but she knew the Nightrunners did not just accept anyone into their ranks. And if Master Livrist had chosen them for this team, then they must be of some sort of use. Even the insane serpentfolk. She just didn't know what yet. But she would be sure to find out.
Even with those thoughts, she can't help but roll her eyes at the 'Captain's' antics. Despite her exasperation, a small smile threatens to escape her lips. "...Charming." she says, clearly bemused.
"Well, while we wait, we might as well introduce ourselves. As the good Captain has already started, I suppose I will go second. My name is Miriel, of House Misraria."
Nimue glances around the office with a curious gaze, having had limited opportunities to be in Livrist's office. It seemed rather tasteful for a leading member of the Nightrunners which Nimue respected, while she enjoyed luxury and wealth as much as anyone else, she disliked openly flashing it seeing as portraying a weakness.
Moving her gaze from the location, the priestess observed each of the others carefully. It didn't take her long to spot the obvious member of House Misraria - which Nimue has privately expected. She suspected that Livrist was as prone to bias and wondered if Miriel had been picked because she was skillful, or because of her House.
The serpentfolk was...interesting, but Nimue didn't believe that it was as stupid as it looked - the Nightrunners didn't select idiots, and that blade on the serpentfolks back looked used. The fact that the creature was underplaying him or herself immediately put Nimue on guard.
Her musings slightly interrupted as a flamboyant Captain announced himself. Nimue hid a private smile with difficulty, she liked his style and charm, aspects she both lacked and wished she had but she wasn't going to say so out loud. As people began gradually introducing themselves, Nimue waits politely for a pause before beginning her own.
"My name is Nimue. Nimue Durmada." the half drow offers, still obviously dressed for any sudden combat, in her silvery black full plate armor and shield slung across her back, the former prominently displaying her holy symbol of Lamashtu on the front. A cloak full of black feathers rides off her shoulders, the rest of her clothing tight fitting with dark colors favored, and yet perfectly practical for combat.
"A'streth of no House", he grins at both Drow females. His gaze still that of the half-wit. If he's faking this, he's good at it to be sure.
"You noticed! It is a fine hat, isn't it?" he says, returning the well-appointed half-orc's wink. "You've quite a fine set of accoutrements, yourself!" he says, giving a look at the half-orc's fashionable attire.
"Well, that does spoil the grand entrance, doesn't it?" he replies when the tiefling in the room points out that Master Livrist wasn't there yet. Turning to look around the room, he voices explicitly what many were probably already thinking. "This is quite a motley assortment the master's gathered isn't it? Serpent-folk, tieflings, half-orcs... Oh my! And even a member of Misraria itself. Whatever could he want with us all?"
With the group doing introductions, Aramondis grabs a chair and turns it around, using its back to lean back against. He stifles a yawn as he waits for the 'Master' to show up, obviously a tactic to highlight his importance. My kin do love this sort of power play... although I suppose he might just be dead." The thought brings him back to his own brother's timely demise, and the satisfying splash he'd made in the water. A wide grin appears on his face as he snaps out of the memory, "Ahh, memories..." he says to no one in particular.
Turning his attention back to the group, he prods them to continue, "So who's next, hmm? I'd say it's a pleasure to meet you all, but I'll hold off until I'm sure we aren't all about to wind up dead."
Valiana's face looks confused for a moment as the word 'accoutrement' leaves the man's mouth. Huh. If that's what you call it. "It's a hard hat to miss.", she replies a moment later, before taming down the smile to a friendlier and simpler one. "You're not too bad, yourself, either.", she adds, fanning with her fan. Just the right breach of drow tact, I believe.
"I'm Captain Valiana Snarltusk of the Ponderous Lightning.", she says in a moment. Which is either sunk or renamed, but, well. Crossing her arms, she leans her back on the wall, her glance glancing over the serpentfolk. "Something big?", she blurts out in a second as an answer to Aramondis. "Is he like a really important person in here?", she asks Miriel, obviously at least knowing who's in charge of the house.
There are heavy footsteps outside and the door swing open again to reveal the last member of their meeting. Grizzled is a rare term to apply to the usually vain drow, but it's hard to find a better term for the guild master. He's tall, standing a fair bit over six feet and built like a brick wall in leather armor. His right cheek is badly scarred, seemingly by something with very large claws. His eye on that side seems completely white and it's impossible to tell if its even capable of focusing on anything with it, but his other eye is sharp and runs over the gathered group. "I like to think so," Livrist says, his voice much softer than his stature implies. He doesn't seem particularly bothered by the half-orcs comment, though he clearly heard at least part of their conversation. "But I serve only at the behest of the greater guild."
He grunts and walks around the desk, but doesn't take a seat on the other side. "I'm certain you're all wondering exactly why I've requested your attendance today," he continues. "Simply put, I need a team of veterans for a short mission and you're the best that I current have in town. Most of you are guild members or associates, though I'm not disappointed to see one of the Black-Tooths willing to listen to my proposal." He nods to the half-orc captain. "Simply put, one of our teams went missing on an assignment that should have been routine and I can't afford to have more people vanishing, so I need a team that I know can be counted on to come back in one piece."
Miriel snaps to attention when Livrist arrives. Despite her station in her house, she is well-aware that she is no Nightrunner veteran, having performed mostly desk duties for the guild for the last few decades. She wants to impress him as best as she is able. She waits for him to finish, then raises an eyebrow. "Where was this team last seen?" she asks.
After the announcement of the assignment A'streth's demeanor instantly changes. His movements become fluid and graceful, his gaze focused and sharp as he scans the room. A pity, i'd like to have eaten at least one of them.
"Sssso, who went misssing, how many and what wassss thissss routine asssignment Livrissst?"
Livrist pulls a key from somewhere inside his leather armor and turns a lock on one of the drawers of the desk, allowing it to slide open. He fishes out a folded piece of paper. "Last week, we received a message from our guildhall in Delvingulf. Apparently, a slave who knows too much about one of the houses in the port was accidentally sold rather than being killed. Obviously, we want to know what he knows. An informant told us he was supposed to be headed for Sverspume for sale with a duergar caravan." The older drow flips the note open. "The caravan never arrived. We sent a scout team into the tunnels north of Telderist to find out what happened and now they're missing too. Four relatively young members led by Damar Frell, one of out more experienced scouts."
"We will most likely need to know the route Damar Frell would have most likely taken, as it could be known to anyone that caused misfortune to the scout team. While I'm confident we could handle it, talking into a possible ambush irks me" Nimue remarks simply, idly wondering how many people knew of the situation behind the slave and would be ambitious enough to attempt to take it for themselves.
Korva stood up straighter as the guildmaster made his appearance and he listened quietly as their mission was given to him. He tilted his head slightly when he heard of the incident that caused this whole state of affairs in the first place. Drow Houses rarely made mistakes with slaves, they viewed most of them as entirely expendable. Korva knew that all too well, given that he had once been little more than a slave himself to House Parastric of Zirnakaynin. Given that now they had a missing scout team looking for this slave he couldn’t find himself believing that this job was as simple as it initially appeared. But then he doubted Master Livrist would have called all these rather unique agents here if it were. When it seemed as though the night master was open to questions Korva offered up his own, “Damar Frell was an extremely competent tracker, is it possible that we could gain access to any maps or information about the route that he was investigating? My own work has mostly been on the western tunnels lately, so any head start on figuring out our best approach would be appreciated.”
Even as he spoke he pulled a well worn leather journal from out of his vest and began thumbing through it. He was never without his formulae book, though these days it was filled more with maps, sketches and notations than actual alchemical formulae. He was looking for anything that he did have about the northern sections of the tunnels around Telderist.
"Name, race and dessscription of the ssslave, which you want alive it sssemsss?"
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Aramondis listens quietly as the others interrogate the Master about what the mission entailed. It was certainly an opportunity to glean some hints about the motivations and strengths of the others in the room. Seeing as no one was willing to broach the most important subject, however, Aramondis is forced to step in. "Intrigue and excitement, this is what I live for!" Aramondis exclaims, clearly interested in the task presented. "Well that and pay, of course. So... you say you can't afford to have more people disappear. That raises my own personal favorite question: What can you afford? Not to put too fine a point on it, you've piqued my interest, but what's in it for me, hmm?"
"We don't know the exact route the caravan was taking," Livrist admits. "The duergar are careful to keep that hidden to try to avoid trouble. We do know the region they were passing through and where Frell's team was planning to start looking. I'll have the maps readied for you. But the paths shift easily in some regions, so they won't be perfect. I doubt I need to tell any of you that though."
He nods to the serpentfolk. "Human male, relatively young from our reports. We don't have an name unfortunately, but he's supposed to be 'pretty' from our informants reports. As for bringing him in alive..." The guildmaster just shrugs. "If you somehow extract the information without needing to bring him back, his fate is irrelevant."
The guildmaster just nods toward the other drow. "Two hundred platinum each for the retrieval of high value information. Standard rates for special duties. An extra fifty for the return of our last team, or proof of their deaths so we know what happened."
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"I agree to thessse termsss.
Yesss, we ssshould extract the information ssso I can eat the Human, ssso tasssty and ssso rare down below the surface to find one".
Miriel purses her lips in an expression of disgust at A'streth's comment. Ugh, serpentmen. So uncivilized. Once her revulsion passes, she smiles charmingly at the Night Master.
"That shouldn't be a problem. No mere man could hope to keep secrets from me, at least not for long," she says, dismissively.
"But as for walking into an ambush, I know that we have one of the finest cartographers in the Darklands here with us to help plot our course," she smiles flirtatiously at Korva Mappo. "So we should have little to worry about, hmm?"
Valiana's smile wanes as she sees the drow in question walking in, but her surprisingly charming smile appears once more. "Well, now I know it too.", she replies a moment later with a disarmingly apologetic smile, before leaning back on the wall and listening. Black-Tooth seem to have the respect of the Nightrunners. Maybe I should've joined officially - but it's not like there'd be much difference., she thinks, as the situation is described. The surprisingly quick male drow had beaten her to the chase, as she continues listening. Go and find a missing slave. For ten dozen in platinum? That's bound to be one very important information., she quietly considers, her eyes glancing around the room. I see why they've got an agent of the house, too. Honesty's premium here. The half-orc's face appears to be trapped in an expression, slowly turning towards impatience, as her thought continue slightly darker paths.
"I agree they're a rare treat, but eating them's just a waste. There's at least five more uses for a human.", Valiana shrugs at the serpentfolk.
A'streth turns to the half-orc and blinks, "If you want the ssslave you can have him, I sssuppossse I could ussse my ssshare of the reward to buy a healthier plumper one when we return.
Are we being given mountssss asss well or doesss the job require usss to cover our cosstsss?"
Korva nodded his head in thanks to Livrist at the offer of the maps they had. As the Night Master had said, things tended to shift over time. Sometimes slowly, sometimes with surprising speed, it was one of the reasons that Korva had been taken in by the Nightrunners. His ability to map and remap areas quickly was always in demand as various routes shifted. Strange things happened in the Darklands and it paid to be prepared to handle them as much as possible, Korva would take whatever he could get to prepare them for their journey. He continued listening, nodding appreciatively at the rather generous sum they were being offered upon successful completion of their mission. When Miriel spoke up he bowed deeply to her and said, “You honor me with your praise Lady Miriel. I will do whatever I can to ensure that we are able to reach our destination quickly and safely.”
Korva, having had his own inquiries answered, simply waited to see if anyone else had any other matters to deal with before they made a plan to set out. Personally he had no input on the discussion of devouring the man. Once they had their information he didn’t really care what happened to the slave, the man had made a gamble against the wrong people it seemed. He was especially curious about what had happened to the other Nightrunner team though and fully intended to either locate them or discover proof of their demise. As for mounts, if necessary he had Nim his combat trained riding gecko. He had bought it with some of his first wages earned from Nightrunner work and it had been invaluable since. Its ability to traverse the walls and ceilings of the caverns of Orv made mapping the various routes through the Darklands much easier. Thoughts of expenses did help him realize that before they set out he might want to consider making a couple of purchases though.
Livrist doesn't exactly smile, but his expression seems to become more approving. "Excellent. We're not certain if this assignment will have a time constraint of any sort, so there's no required return date or time. But I would advise you not to dally." He pulls out a scrap of parchment and scribbles a note, ordering the maps you've requested from the explorer's section and hands it off to whoever wishes to take it. "If you have no further concerns, you're dismissed." Retrieving the maps is a simple affair, leaving it up to your newly formed team to plan you expedition into the tunnels in search of your target.
"Before we leave, its reasonably certain that we might need supplies during this mission, especially if it could drag on, or if there are time delays. Would the guild be prepared to assist with the cost of various supplies for this task or are we expected to fund those on our own?" Nimue replies, trying to keep her request casual and respectful. She wasn't too bothered either way, as she had the funds to afford most of what she would need - but she wanted to try and see if she could push her luck. Besides - you never knew unless you asked.
The serpentflok nods to the drow female, though he already asked the question, perhaps coming from his influential kinsman Livrist will feel pressure to pony up. A'streth could use the infusion, his toys have been rather expensive of late.
Affixing her hat, Valiana gives a short bow to Master Livrist. "I've got all my stuff.", she says as the newly met party leaves the room. "So... Does anyone know where we're going?", her eyes flash over the tiefling. "You... You said you were working with the tunnels?", she asks, putting a large hand onto the tiefling's shoulder. "So, what are we expecting?"
Korva stared at the half-orc’s hand on his shoulder for a moment before stepping back and nodding his head respectfully to her. Having been a former experiment of a drow house he had never really grown especially comfortable being touched by other people. Still he wasn’t looking to cause any offense so after nodding he pulled out his own folio of maps and formulae, as he searched for the relevant maps he said, “I don't believe I properly introduced myself earlier. Korva Mappo, Nightrunner Apprentice and cartographer at your services. It will be my job to ensure that we are able to navigate the tunnels to find our quarry.”
Korva took a moment to spread out the maps and inspect them. Mainly he wanted to be able to explain anything that would be vital for his teammates to bring along. Things like the possibility for ropes, pitons and climbing gear, or the possibility that they’d have to traverse any submerged tunnels to get where they would be going. The duergar were secretive about their routes but as a general rule they rarely utilized tunnels that were filled with water or involved significant climbs. Still it was always better to be prepared. Anything he could learn by looking over the maps he would obviously pass on to the entire party.
Livrist considers Nimue's request for a moment. "The guild's policy is to provide a safe resting place, as well as basic supplies for all of our teams. We can provide field rations, bags, sleeping equipment, that sort of thing, but any specialist equipment is your responsibility. Our clerics can also provide healing services while you're on a guild assignment. If you make it back to the city alive of course."
"Livrist, my thoughtsss tended more towardsss mountss ssso that thisss operation could proceed with all due hassste though what you offer I will certainly procure".
A'streth turns to Korva, "It would ssseem that at leassst for now, you ssshould lead usss or perhapssss guide usss isss the correct term of art as we head into thessse passssages".
Nimue nods calmly. "That is both accommodating and acceptable." she responds to Livrist, before follows the tiefling (along with others) out of the room, joining the discussion as they poured over the maps, seeking any geological advantages or hazards to watch out for or alternatively observe.
Miriel tilts her head and waits for Master Livrist's answer to the serpentfolk's question. Exactly how they were expected to travel through the tunnels was a worthwhile question.
Once they receive that information, she waits for Korva to answer Valiana's question. Information about what they were about to face would be helpful for her. With that information, she could consult with Caramia. Perhaps she knew a trick or two to help with the dangers ahead.
"That's good enough for me!" Aramondis says, grinning widely at the pay suggested. "Quick run by the docks and I'll be ready for the fun ahead!"
Livrist's eyes narrow very slightly. "If you're intending to rent mounts, we can provide part of the fee. Purchasing a mount for yourself counts as a personal expense. We do have a contact at one of the stables near the edge of town that can find you decent mounts though. Geckos or spiders mostly if I remember correctly."
"Rentalssss, I've no desssire to own ssssuch a beassst".
“The stretch of tunnels that spans the caverns between Delvingulf and Severspume is relatively stable geologically. All tunnels have a chance of shifting slightly in the Darklands but these are fairly well traveled, though the exact paths themselves are a closely guarded secret of the Duergar. We shouldn’t need to deal with submerged tunnels or require much climbing gear. As long as there are no tremors or disturbances I should be able to navigate and map things out easily enough once we get there. Fey, various rogue dark folk and a variety of other dangerous monsters do call that area home though but that should be expected at this point,” Korva explains as he folds up the current maps he has copies of and adds them back into his folios. He then secures them in the waterproof bag he carries constantly for that purpose.
Looking to anyone who said that they had mounts to acquire or other supplies Korva nods and says simply, “I personally intend to bring my own riding gecko, Nim. I will use him to help scout and map ahead of us slightly. I dont think a mount is necessarily required but it could certainly prove helpful should anyone else like to acquire one. Anyone who needs to make any final purchases I suggest you do so now and we can all meet up near the northern exit of the city to set out. Any other questions or concerns I might be able to address?”
Miriel nods. "A fairly standard mission," she says, sounding almost bored. "Well if that's the case, I believe we should meet up as soon as possible at the northern gates. Within two hours at the latest. The caravan will be moving as we speak, so we do not have time to dally."
And with that, she gathers herself up and exits the room, after thanking Master Livrist for his time. Miriel heads for the stables he mentioned, with the intention of renting a riding spider. Once that is accomplished, she leaves for the meeting location, intending to arrive earlier than what would usually be expected, so she is likely one of the first people there. She's happy to get out of the city, after all.
A'streth accompanies Miriel, he remains silent as they walk together, the serpentfolk is not one for small talk. Upon arrival he rents a gecko as it is a reptile like he, though A'streth is obviously a far superior species. Thereafter, he acquires rations and whatever other free gear the Nightrunners are willing to provide. Then to the rendezvous point.
"Only legs I trust are my own.", Valiana replies. And I also can't afford to buy anything at the moment. But, you know. Hurrying along to catch up the Aramondis, she extends her arm forwards. "Mind if I join you?", she asks with a wide smile.
"Trying to spy on my boat, Captain Snarltusk?" he says, with a wink. "Very well, I suppose I have no choice but to play along with your devious ruse! Company accepted." He gestures the way as well for Valiana before turning back to the rest of the room. "North gate in two hours it is!
On the way back to the docks he takes some time to question Valiana, prying her for information. "I will likely hear no end to it from Tormhul... 'Ye bringing home stray captains now?'" he says in an exaggerated impression of a duergar. "No doubt I will have to placate him by saying I am either spying on you to learn your tricks, or seducing you! I must admit, not many of your heritage find success down here, what with the prejudices of my kin. You must be quite talented! How did you find yourself wearing that hat, so to speak?"
When they arrive at the docks, he leads them to the plank up to his riverboat, My Brother's Wake painted on the side.
As he walks up the plank, a Duergar dressed in simple robes walks up and calls out to the rest of the crew "Captain on deck, ye lazy lot!" causing everyone to pause and salute briefly before returning to their work. "Bringin' guests Cap'n? We takin' this one somewhere?" A small mass of swirling dust flies up along side him, making whooshing sounds. The dwarf turns to it briefly, hissing at it before it darts off to elsewhere on the boat.
"Always so formal Tormhul! Alas, the bad news is that Valiana here is not paying us anything. The good news is that the Nightrunners are however, and so I have come to get my pack and inform you that I will be gone for a while through the tunnels. Do see that the ship gets taken care of in my absence!"
Turning to the half-orc gestures further into the ship, "A tour then?" before heading off into the boat.
"'ow long's 'a while', Cap'n?" the duergar calls after him as the two begin their tour.
Without turning around, Aramondis simply holds his arms up in an exaggerated shrug.
Nimue heads towards the Northern exit of the city right away, hardly being concerned with requiring much in the way of new gear. She toys with the idea of renting a mount, but riding steeds had never been one of her skills, and eventually discards the idea.
She does however, pick up most of the essential outdoor supplies that Livrist had mentioned the guild would support, such as sleeping options, rations, and storage options, before making her way to the rendezvous point.