"You haven't heard of my mistress Shianax? I'm not all that surprised. Many great and ancient dragons hail from the east, both destroyer and builders of kingdoms, some even gods. Her time will come, this I'm sure of."
Ja'far turns his head when the door closes, he returns his gaze onto Lord Xeno. He walks closer to his desk once he hears Xeno's proposition.
"I am interested in a great many things Lord Xeno, I've wandered across two deserts as a child, survived living under the tutelage of a dragon that treated me worse than kobold for a time. I understand the risks, I accept your offer. Serving the Dark Lord is great service, but the potential "substantial" rewards is, alluring."
You see a man clad in chainshirt armor and a greataxe in a scabbard at his shoulder. He is of Illuskan descent with walnut brown hair tightly gathered in a ponytail. His eyes are the color of the sky, with small flecks of silver near the iris. His skin is fair with small freckles on his nose and cheek bones. He is quite tall, with a solid frame and straight posture.
Mawj folds his arms and leans against the black marble wall. The greataxe on his back made sitting difficult, and he wanted to stay on his feet in new company. Lack of caution was a significant cause of death in Zhentil Keep.
He nodded to those who made eye contact, and raised a hand in greeting to Vorik, but otherwise remained quiet.
Pox hovers near the man he arrived with, hands gripping a small metal box. He is of average height, slender, with long, bony, crooked fingers. His flesh is pale and scarred as if he survived a number of childhood diseases. His eyes somewhat yellowed and though he is not that old--indeed, he's probably younger than one might think at first--his greasy black hair is sparse. A loose-fitting, thick undyed linen tunic is bound in at the waist by a toolbelt featuring a choice of hammers, chisels, and similar tools. A dagger hangs from a simple sheath from the same belt as well. Linen trousers are tucked into old but well cared for leather low boots. He carries a small basket via strap across the shoulder, balanced on the hip; anyone close enough to him may hear the occasional scratching or squeak come from within.
Something flickers around his ankles: a rat-like tail, which he tries to keep out of the way by coiling near one of his feet, but it twitches on occasion, betraying nervousness. So too, his eyes flicker about taking in the scene. Sometimes they fall upon a statue or frieze, and the nervousness in his face fades as he analyzes the craftsmanship and gets lost in his ponderings.
Dorn took in the scene at a glance, anything more was not good enough in the Keep. He took the seat farthest from an end, leaving room for Rook to sit beside him. He crossed his legs, one hand resting atop the knee the other on Rook's head at his side. While at a glance Dorn looks similar to most traveler's moving through a city. But as the saying goes, the devil is in the details. His black leather boots have faint yet detailed draconic embossing. His dark leather breeches have fine skillful stitching. While his wide belt has built in pouches along with twin bandoliers crossing on his hips with more compartments then can be easily guessed. The light gray shirt he wears is simple below a darker grey vest, yet both are too fitted to be of the kind seen on the street or shops. Fine form fitting black gloves and a long black jacket with an unused hood complete the ensemble. Seemingly his only weapon is a equally plain if well made dagger peeking from beneath his jacket.
Rook remains more like a statue then a dog beside Dorn. Only his eyes seem to scan the room and it's occupants, taking deep breaths through it's nose. Whenever it's eyes fall on Pox they linger, or rather upon his basket.
Dorn for his part did much the same. Taking in more details with every moment with these others. They were called together and would likely be working together. Did they know who was behind this? Was it part of a joint effort between the Zhentarium and Banites? Or was he planted in the banites scheme without their knowledge? This and many more questions kept coming and going through his mind. In the end he settled on just waiting and observing. Then he could make the best of it, if at least to survive the whole affair with his head and sanity intact. Even if some would consider such a feat rather greedy.
This man is obviously foreign. His skin is a strange shade reminice of the far east. His hair however is a bright blonde. He is unarmed, as far as you can tell, although it does appear he's wearing armor underneath his cloak. He carries a small pack and a quiver at his side, crossbow Bolts hanging out. He eyes the others in the room like he's seeing if they would make a good mark... Whether for whatever he's selling or a potential robbing it's hard to tell. His form betrays a strange Elegance... Similar to an elf. Could be this man is of their decent.
He stands next the Pox, the strange deseased man... Not close but enough to tell they are somewhat together.
Xeno smiles and seems pleased by your speech, "Very well. I have little time to vet all of those who would be suitable. I would invite you to spend the evening in the chambers of the Acolytes, tyhis way you can be available quite early in the morning to meet the rest of your new comrades. We shall take prayer together in the morning".
He rings a bell and another Acolyte retrieves you and brings you to a small chamber in the dungeon level providing you with a charcoal grey cloak leaving you to meditate until morning.
Ja'far bows his head, his dark purple turban rests securely to his head and his pet vulture shifts it's body to accommodate Ja'far shift in body.
"I thank you for this honour Lord Xeno, I will not fail you. By the will of the Dark lord, I will crush your enemies under an iron heel."
Ja'far follows the man he believes to be an acolyte into the dungeon chamber, he puts the charcoal grey cloak over his black robes as is custom of clerical orders. With the extra warmth, he keels onto the ground and begins to pray and mediate for hours before succumbing to sleep.
As Vorik, who is dressed in the robes befitting an acolyte of Bane, descends the stairs, he notes that there are more present that he expected. Such must be the Black Lord's will.
Seeing Mawj raise his hand in greeting, Vorik nods in his direction, then stands or sits as directed.
The Year of the Prince 1357 DR - Greengrass
Ja’far you are awoken by another Acolyte, "Brother, head upstairs, the time for your appointment with Cleric Mirrormane is at hand".
As you arrive on the ground level you see several figures assembled. You feel a sense of certainty that this is where you are supposed to be.
---
Yet another Acolyte comes from a side hall, dressed in the same charcoal grey robes as those of the one who come from the stairs above.
Vorik hears a voice in his ear, "The time has come, lead those who have assembled to me".
Ja'far is wide awake, he rushes out of bed and thanks the fellow acolyte for waking him. Hastily he dons his armour and his sword belt.
Ja'far enters the room full of strangers, he observes them but says nothing. This strange man from the east wears helmet surrounded by a turban made of fine purple silk, held together with an igal made from the scale of a brown dragon and the feather of a peacock. He shows none of his gold hued skin aside from his face, his hands and arms are covered by his robes and leather gloves. Around is waist is a belt which holds an old and masterfully crafted blade, similar to those that a calishite would wield.
Ja'far strokes his beard and clicks the heels of his pointed leather boots. He sits at the nearest empty chair, once seated he rubs the beak of his vulture, perched on his shoulder. This man walks with an unearthly grace, one thing is certain, this strange man isn't human.
Kyorruel enters the room alongside Acolyte Darkhope and looks around at the band of people already there as more stream into the room periodically.
Kyorruel has the basic appearance of a sun elf, he is lithe and moves with unnatural grace and his ears are long and pointed, each one adorned with three small silver rings, starting in the middle of his ear and moving up towards the point. His eyes are a gold color, though they are bordered in red and copper colored hair, long and kept in a high ponytail. His skin is copper-colored like his eyes.
He wears fine leather boots, black pants and a light grey shirt, over which he wears a black set of studded leather. Over his armor he wears a vest made of hide and a long green cloak, currently unclasped so it hands open. At his side rests a rapier and several pouches hang from his belt.
He notices several dressed in the same dark robes as his new benefactor and assumes that they are acolytes like him.
He notices that a few of those in the room seem to know each other but no one seems to be speaking so he opts for silence as well, content to observe those around him and learn what he may.
Vorik nods, and summons the assembled, leading them as instructed.
Suni follows the others, staying in the back if the crowd, doing his best to try not to appear prominent, which he was glad he wasn't. After all there where many others here who where far more curious than he is, or at least that's what he thought.
The Year of the Prince 1357 DR - Greengrass
Vorik leads the group up the stairs. As you follow him through the Temple he leads you to the second and then the third floor he proceeds down the long black marbled hall until he comes to a door intricately adorned with the symbol of Bane upon it. He opens it and gestures you all in.
The Year of the Prince 1357 DR - Greengrass -
As you enter the room, seated behind a large black desk devoid of any paperwork as it all sits cluttered on a few bookshelves is a young Cleric. Standing behind him is yet another Cleric.
He smiles at those assembled and gestures for Vorik to shut the door, [b]"Greetings. I am Xeno Mirrormane Cleric of Lord Bane. You have all been assembled here for a very specific purpose..."
He pauses and his eyes narrow, "There are more of you then I expected. Before I begin, it would be better if I understood who you all were and what has led you to me. The Keep has many spies in its midst and I should hope that I count none of you among them".
Pox is utterly perplexed as to why he or Suni should be called into a room with all these people, but he decides it is better to pretend he belongs here than otherwise. He stays silent and tries to hide his nervousness.
He manages to look straight ahead and keep a slight air of confidence--but not so much that he would stand out as arrogant.
Vorik smiles inwardly at Cleric Mirrormane's keen insight. Those who did not belong, and would try and bring ruin to the Black Lord would be found out and dealt with.
As he scans the room, his eyes briefly settle on the sickly looking young man but move on quickly. "This one does not belong, but I am sure Xeno knows that" Vorik thinks, having seen past the attempt at deception.
Suni steps forward, bowing politely. I apologise, This man is with me, he brought me a box with a symbol I couldn't identify. I thought I might bring it with me but the chance one of you might be able to identify it... he gestures to Pox as he says this, making sure it was VERY clear he wasn't trying to hide anything... Well anything important.
Other than that, I am a merchant and I was asked to bring my wares here, that they might be used or purchased in some way? he says, glancing at the other man.
The Year of the Prince 1357 DR - Greengrass -
Xeno turns to Pox, "A box eh? Well then, bring it forward that I and my companion may inspect it".
Kyorruel follows along with the rest of the group into this new room to meet Xeno Mirrorman. He tenses when the cleric seems to be upset by the extra member.
Could I be this extra member that he is referring to? Acolyte Darkhope said I was needed but he only collected me yesterday, so maybe im not part of these plans.
He relaxes somewhat when one of the group seems to identify another as being the outsider but doesn't relax entirely. It pays to be wary when surrounded by such powerful and dangerous men.
|
Vlad kept a smiling face as he accompanied the accolite and the others inside and upstairs.
"Twice they have mentioned our numbers... And I haven't been formally invited... But I have a feeling, this is where everything starts. I shan't be denied." his mind races as he plans his move but the merchant was quicker than him. Vlad was split between acting and helping him out -a good friend, and specially one that owes you one, is worth his weight in gold- or staying put and witnessing the scene unfold.
Ah, but Vlad wasn't one to remain a mere observer. Grabbing his cloak's edge and bowing, the Bastard stepped forward.
"Great servant of Bane, I can't hope to deceive one blessed with His Wisdom. I am afraid I haven't been... Formally invited to be part of this venture, but I can assure you I am no spy, for I have just arrived to the Keep from the distant Rashemen." Vlad says without hiding his strong northerner accent. With his arms now extended he continues speaking "I come looking for purpose and greatness, as a Wytch once told me I'd found it in a faraway land... And my heart and soul have guided me to the Black Altar, I know my destiny lies here. If I am unwanted I'll turn around and never bother you again... But if you were to accept my services I swear by my honour I will repay Bane's trust with loyalty above all."
Mawj stands at attention and places a fist over his heart. "Majarian Whitesmith, sir. Guardsman. I was tasked with accompanying Vorik."
Pox sighs inwardly--so much for remaining unnoticeable--but he hopes if anyone is to get into trouble for his presence, Suni will be the one for bringing him. Pox can at least truthfully say he had no idea where he was being brought.
Pox is more disappointed that he will likely lose his curious find to the Banites... but if he can't identify or open the damned thing, there is no point to keeping it anyway.
Not even looking at Suni, he steps forward and holds the box out to Xeno with a slight bow. He does not speak until he is spoken to.
The Year of the Prince 1357 DR - Greengrass -
Darkhope senses Kyorruel's nerves and places a hand on his shoulder to, seemingly, reassure him.
Xeno chuckles at Vladislak, "The Rashemani yes? I was told to expect you and that you were verbose. I already paid the coin for the reference. Worry not, it is indeed our friend with the box that was our uninvited guest".
Xeno merely nods to Mawj.
As Pox approaches Xeno accepts the box and examines it. He turns to the figure at his shoulder, "Sememmnon's Mark. Sell it back to him, I am sure he will pay good coin for it".
The robed figure accepts the box and slides it into a small pouch on his belt. Magic!
Xeno then looks back at Pox, "I do not know you but that you brought that item to us and not to the Zhentarim means you did not know what you had. It also means that your recognize value when you see it.
Tell me, where did you find it? Tell me also where you hail from. If I like your answer I will consider whether you would be a good fit for this mission, after all, you appear to be perceptive. If not, well the Pits are always hungry for more warriors".
Pox tries to remember the name 'Sememmon.' That at least satisfies part of his curiosity.
Tail flicking around his ankles, Pox nods to Xeno and answers promptly, "I'm called the Pox of Phlan. I'm a builder--a wrecker too, when need be--and I was salvaging rubble in the Foreign Quarter when I found the box. I saw it was indeed valuable and sought out to identify the owner's mark. I see bringing it to you was the right thing to do. How can I be of service?" He aims for a straightforward tone, neither too presumptuous nor too obsequious.
Suni, ever the opportunist, pipes in. Actually, it was my idea to bring the box here. He had originally brought it to me to assess it's value. he smiles, trying in his own way to claim full credit for something he obviously only had a small part in.
Dorn kept silent, he was not going to be baited. Nor was he going to volunteer information. What he did was observe the interactions, study the people as much as the situation. Taking a measure of those assembled and their possible motives. Some were plain and simple to see, while others like himself seemed to play things close to the vest. Sememmon's name drew his attention, he wondered if it truly was happen stance that Manshoon's own apprentice suddenly had a hand in things. He pushed that thought aside, the apprentice may not be as bad as the master yet he was a different sort of beast if such things were to be believed. Simply put, Sememmon did not strike him as someone that lost anything of value unless he wanted to.
Pox remains expressionless when he replies, "Because, despite claiming to be a master of curiosities, Suni here was too incompetent to identify it on his own, and he, without telling me, decided to presume upon the temple's hospitality by bringing me apparently to an invitation-only meeting."
He flickers a threatening glare at Suni, a strong, silent suggestion to him that he remain quiet.
Pox knows he is as likely to be recruited for whatever this is as he is thrown to the dogs now that he's been brought here (and that either option may be a poor fate). If he IS to suffer at the hands of the Banites, he will bring the smug little merchant down with him.
The Year of the Prince 1357 DR - Greengrass -
Xeno begins to grin as watches the two who have come before his snipe at one another. He looks up at his ally who begins to cast a spell, once it is complete, Xeno again addresses Pox, "You are from Phlan Pox? Recently?"
Unable to suppress his curiosity, Pox tries to identify the spell that his colleague cast.
Pox nods at Xeno. "Yes, sir. I came here just a few weeks ago with a shipment of supplies from Phlan. I'd been working in the ruins before then."
The Year of the Prince 1357 DR - Greengrass -
The man standing and Xeno look at one another then back at you.
"My, well it turns out that you would be perfect for what we have in mind. Now, pretend I am one of the authorities from the Dalelands and tell me how much you despise Zhents. You are from Phlan after all, there must be some hatred towards us you can muster no?
Oh and uh, can that tail be hidden somewhere less conspicuous?"
Dorn eyes the priest as he cast.
Suni snorts. Not my fault I am not experienced in the culture and people of this land... he flicks his eyes at the Spellcasting ... Curious. He had always wanted to do something like that ...
Least he knew it wasn't an attack spell. After all, no-one was on fire
That spell was going to be an obstacle. But he was confident he could thwart it if need be. The nature of the spell gave it a great flaw, knowing it was in effect when questioned. None the less his mental defenses rebelled against the enchantment as it washed over him.
Ja'far looks over the bickering of the men in the room, he rolls his eyes and beings to play with sword, his fingers danced on the hilt.
These barbarians, bickering and arguing. Bane chose me to be here, unless Tripp set me up? Surely if that was the case, Xeno would have me killed, no?
The foreign man clears his throat,"Is this some sort of test? to see how our problem solving works or how to resolve an issue?" He said in his thick midani accent, with slight Durpari subtleties.
Maybe a spanking? They sound like my nephews.
Mawj stayed silent, but his mouth twitched a small grin.
Suni mutters to himself in the exotic tongue of his homeland. Well, I guess this is how it starts? Get a job and then get forced to work with people you hate until you all come to a mutual understanding...
The Year of the Prince 1357 DR - Greengrass -
The figure behind Xeno responds to Ja'far, "No, it is a test to see how deceptive you can be or perhaps to ascertain whether you are being deceptive at all. One should never be so sure of anything for there is no certainty in life.
Once we are entirely certain that you are the right picks for this mission, we shall send you along your way.
Do not worry Ja'far Mahavira we shall get to you soon enough".
The Year of the Prince 1357 DR - Greengrass
No doubt your appearance would enable you to penetrate the Keep. Or so the Captain of the city's Spy Contingent believed. Along with one of the best agents of Hillsfar, you have been assigned to penetrate the Zhentarim!
Little did the people you once related to know that your heart was not their heart. Hillsfar was weak where the Keep was mighty. Certainly the Red Plumes are a fighting force whose reputation is well deserved but you can see where others cannot. The Keep will rise, its combination of army, wizards, and clerics will make it the prominent city on the Moonsea and soon.
How you saw it, you cannot say but you do know that it is true.
You find yourself in the Inner Quarter, Roland is quite the able liar and spy. He has wormed his way into some sort of meeting that he believes will make both he and you trusted members of the Zhentarim. The Black Altar looms before you both as you approach at his side.
Your scales of course draw interested looks but none challenge either of you as you strode through the quarter, clearly, he has been here before and created a reputation for himself. This morning you discovered why you suspect even the SpyMaster of Hillsfar does not realize that "Roland" is a member of the Harper organization.
The question is, how can you use that knowledge to your advantage?
Roland barks at the Guards who stand at the doors of the Black Altar. Despite their challenge to the approach of your two man band Roland is able to Intimidate his way past the door claiming he is late for a meeting and "you would not want to answer to the Bainites you serve that you disrupted the meeting, would you?"
Of course they did not!
An Acolyte even now leads you up the stairs to the chamber where the meeting is in session...
Pox nods at Xeno. "I think I understand." He clears his throat, trying to come up with something convincing, technically truthful, without making himself look like a traitor. "Zhents, Officer?" He rolls his eyes and sneers. "Last saboteur caught on the walls was said to be a Zhent. Supposedly great soldiers and yet they're skulking about attacking ruins rather than people, and still shouting about their failed campaign against the city 400 years ago. If you ask me, a real conqueror would be focused on the future, not still licking their wounds from the past. If you're concerned about invaders, Officer, get them lost in the ruins. What's in there will devour them right quick."
He pauses, then addresses the other question. "As for my tail, a long cloak or coat would be sufficient to conceal it, I guess. I never bothered to hide it in Phlan."
The Year of the Prince 1357 DR - Greengrass -
Xeno narrows his eyes as Pox speaks, "That'll do".
The man behind Xeno speaks, "Suni is the merchant of exotic wares from the east Xeno and Vlad his bodyguard. Suni will do well as he has just enough of a selection of wares left to entice as if he had been n the road for some time. Certainly a Rashemani bodyguard would make sense as well".
Xeno responds, "Yes. That all seems plausible".
The man behind Xeno speaks again, "Dorn Xizurth, what are the wares your family sells, or could potentially sell?"
Before Dorn can speak, the doors to Xeno's office open and two men enter, well one man and some sort of half-dragon perhaps?
The human who is plain looking of average height and weight speaks, "I apologize for my tardiness but it took me some time to gather my ally here, I present to you Edwin McBride, half-dragon man of Hillsfar".
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A dragonkin! That would make for a fearsome vasal in times to come... Yes, Edwin McBride... I'll remember that name
The Rashemani bowed again and adjusted his cloak so that it slightly covered his sword and armor. "A suggestion of prowess at arms, only enough to deter but not enough to call unwanted attention..." he mutters to himself as he makes his way towards Suni and past him until he stands a couple of feets behind him in a martial posse.
"Pleasure to work with you, fyrra... Chief, I think is the word in common tongue."
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When Xeno is done with Pox, he steps back (though never turns his back on anyone), silently grateful no further attention is upon him.
When Edwin walks into the room, Pox raises an eyebrow. And they're worried about my tail being noticeable?
Suni is now confident that he indeed isn't the strangest in the room... Hardly... Although a person like him should still keep to himself. Just a question, If I am a merchant, and them my bodygaurds, what might I need guarding from? You see I am just very curious and- eh, well I don't really know any of you...