Vorik does not hesitate in his answer, for he had already been thinking what sort of cover this dragon kin could adopt. "Either guardsman or perhaps slave. I believe both roles would be readily believable."
Mawj nods affirmatively. "Tilverton is between the Thunder Peaks and the Desertsmouth Mountains. It's at Tilver's Gap, where the North Ride meets the Moonsea Ride. Heavy merchant traffic. The Moonsea Ride will take you to Arabel, and the North Ride to Shadowdale. It's an independent town, but Cormyr gets closer to swallowing it every year. I've never been there myself."
Mawj will pocket the Harper pin.
Kyorruel looks up at the Mirrormanes before speaking.
"I have been hiding my nature my entire life. My so he are small and can be strapped down, hidden in the folds of a cloak, colored lens will help with my eyes and gloves shall hide the claws. In a pinch, I have magic that will allow me to hide my true form." slightly sheepishly he adds "Although admittedly I am young and cannot yet hold the disguise for very long. But I look enough like an elf that a mundane disguise should suffice and I can act like an elf if I am required."
Dorn takes less then a moment to respond. It was clear at this point why they wanted him, unlike most, his family's reputation and name was solid in both substance and under scrutiny.
"We are primarily gem merchants skilled in their acquisition, cutting, and setting. By extension jewelers and jewelry. We also commonly trade in raw ores such as copper, iron, and silver. Occasionally finished products of such resources. It is not uncommon for us to trade in just about anything as skilled merchants. But for various reasons we tend to consistently remain in gems and ores, along with their finished products."
He adds at the end to be clear on one matter of no small importance.
"Their are some goods we do not deal in. It is the price of keeping all markets open to us. These goods are few and so of little concern to us. But I thought it best you are made aware, in case it effects anything."
The Xizurth family never dealt in illegal goods of any kind, at least not as merchants. That was one of the reasons they could do business where others in Zhentil Keep could not. Their reputation outweighed Zhentil Keeps infamy, otherwise Waterdeep would have closed their gates to them.
Kyorruel shakes his head a little at Edwin's comment.
''Did you not hear Lord Mirrormane ask Vorik what cover you would use in their plans? He means for you to pretend to be a slave, not to actually enslave you. Do try and keep up Edwin.''
Kyorruel smirks a little as he finishes, giving the impression that his little speech was meant as a light-hearted jab and not a character assassination.
Besides, everyone is a slave to something, whether it be a person or a desire or feeling. Not all men realize it is all.
"If I may," Pox says, "Based on significant personal experience, I'd note more half-human and other mix-blood races end up among the criminal element--whether they deserve to or not. Mister McBride could be a criminal working his sentence off doing service as a guard. While this implies servitude, believing someone has a criminal record tends to inspire fear and respect in others, and also causes people to ask no further questions. Since it is merely for pretense, it should also further do no harm."
Ja'far straights himself out, putting his hands behind his back.
"Ah the Nightsinger, I know of their faith and rest assured they don't know mine. In Unther I trained in the Alter of Scales, by the high priest of Tiamat, Malise."
Ja'far quickly turns on his heels, his eyes scroll up and down the draconic man.
He could make a capable ally, yes this would be wise.
Putting his hands together, be gestures a short bow towards Edwin.
Suni keeps to himself, until Pox Mentions the discrimination of the half-races. Well, I shouldn't have to worry about that... Being human I should fit that roll just fine, and also being a merchant, of sorts, I'll fit right in. My wares are spices and exotic medicines.
Dorn only raises an eyebrow at the exchange. Were these two that shortsighted or merely simple. They were in the Black Alter of Bane, praising another god in front of two of his priest no less. One of them even claimed to be loyal to Bane as a potential priest yet was claiming worship of another no less. He didn't know about the priest, but he was starting to worry about this mission with these people. If they couldn't watch their words in front of their superiors, how would they fair under those with true suspicion. He changes the subject slightly.
"Are we actually heading to the shining south? Depending on our true destination we may want to tailor our covers as well as other things. Such as our cargo and perhaps preparations. A true merchant knows his route from start to finish, accounting for much in between. Even a route by sea will have a few ports along the way to take advantage of. Rare or green is a merchant that only plans for profit upon his destination."
Suni takes this advice, being one of the few merchants that only plans for profit... one way or another. solid advice, might we know our destination, and then where we are passing through?
The Year of the Prince 1357 DR - Greengrass -
Xeno grins at the mention of Tiamat in his presence, "Dragon Gods. So amusing to me, the belief that such creature's would worship a God is likely part of the reason why such Gods are so weak. Ironic, the creatures' themselves so very powerful, their Gods, lesser Gods at best among the Pantheons.
Ah Pox, already you have proven your worth. An excellent idea, Edwin, whose name must change, shall be the bodyguard of Dorn Xizurth as will be Mawj. Kyo, you shall be an associate of Elaith Craulnober of Waterdeep, none will ask very deep questions regarding the dealings of that particular elf. Your wares not readily apparent.
Vorik, you will be caravan master with Pox as your right hand man. As a builder having him along will be useful in case the wagons are in needs of repair. Ja'far shall be your exotic bodyguard and guide from the south.
Suni and Vladislak will both be teleported to Secomber. Once there, a caravan heading to the west will bring you to The Trade Way. There that caravan will intersect the caravan of Vorik, which will originate from Waterdeep. The rest of you will be teleported to the environs outside of Waterdeep and join that caravan at that location.
Xizurth, you will send a missive to your family holdings in Waterdeep and scrounge up whatever goods are available to send south for trade.
The intended destination will be the Shining South. However, your true destination is Arabel. The dual caravan shall journey south through The Trade Way and cut east across to Scornubel, through the Reaching Woods and the Sunset Mountains into the Stonelands and to Tilverton. When you arrive in Tilverton, you will receive your first set of instructions".
Brother speaks, "You have two days to set your local affairs in order. Then you shall leave the city by way of the Foreign Quarter. There you shall meet the contact who will magically translocate you to your initial destinations".
Xeno smiles, "Have you any further questions? I think we have been quite clear. You shall all be posing as Merchants or their servants. The road will be long enough and the caravans well protected enough that so long as you all stay away from dangerous road encounters, by Midsummer you should all be arriving at Tilverton.
As you can see, we have selected those who have no affiliation or little known affiliation with the Keep to perform this task. Perform it well and you shall all be well rewarded".
Dorn took it in quickly and saw a potential flaw almost from the start.
"With respect, Kyo should not be associated with Elaith Craulnober. The Serpent is to well known a rogue and a connected one at that. His name will be noted and noticed in a disadvantageous way. Should the elf himself catch wind of it, not a unlikely event considering he is a information broker, we may have more problems not less as a result. In the best case, the serpent simply has Kyo killed for the slight. In the worst case he starts looking into Kyo and by extension, his superiors. I would advise instead that we make him an agent of House Amcathra. They are an old noble house of Waterdeep with a wide range of trading interest. As they do not specialize and Kyo is a mere agent, it would not be unusual that they are trying out his wares in distant markets before committing. Should he ever be found out, then it was a simple matter of a merchant making himself out to be more important then he is. Not a rare thing. House Amcathra would do nothing and no one would look deeper."
He spares the dragonkin a glance.
"The Harper may have passed on information about you is my guess. Their presence is strong in the north. Your name should not be the only change if you can manage it."
He quickly looks back at the priest.
"To be clear who will be paying for the goods?"
If their was one thing that always got exposed among merchants. It was an unpaid bill or missing goods. You can't wave away a wagon of goods and expenses, not with his families employees in Waterdeep. That was a stretch even in the Keep.
Ja'far bows to Xeno and the fellow priests.
"It's an honour to serve you, may the Dark Lord see our task to fruition and our enemies crushed."
Ja'far turns to Vorrik.
"I will play the part of your bodyguard well, brother."
"Understood, sir." Mawj placed a fist sideways to his chest in salute.
After Dorn's speech, he spared him a quick sidelong glance. Looks like someone put on his big-boy shoes today. Let's see how our patron appreciates 'suggestions'...
Pox is a bit perplexed by how quickly he got recruited by accidentally showing up. Destiny is calling, or the gods are having a laugh. Either way, he found little reason not to go along. He'd never traveled... the supply train ride from Phlan didn't really count. He found himself intrigued by the possibility.
"May I take my leave to prepare for the journey? I need to get the cloak. I will return at whatever time you designate."
If Pox is dismissed, he goes to buy some traveling clothes, cloak included, and a small length of extra cloth that matches the cloak's interior. He seeks nothing particularly special apart from sturdiness. He then goes to the room he has been renting and sews in a large pocket on the cloak's interior that he could slide his tail into in case he needs to hide it.
Suni bows in his traditional way, Thank you, I will arrange for my departure, I hope you don't mind I have a horse, its been with me all the way from the Plain of Horses, when I bought it from a horse merchant. It carries most of my wares. he then goes to collect what little else he has, putting it all neatly in the saddlebags of his horse.
when he is alone he goes and finds a bar, buying a bottle of wine,
drinking most of it quite fast...
When Suni returns he smells of alcohol, but is quite composed despite the amount of wine he drank. Seems he can hold it well, or hide it anyways.
The Year of the Prince 1357 DR - Greengrass -
Xeno turns to Edwin when Dorn answers, "The apprentice has the right of it. Your name is known to those who Harp and makes you a liability. But I find you curious, I find the Harpers setting you up so to die that much more curious. Thus, I allow you to continue to exist. If you prefer you can take your name with your corpse down the River Tesh".
Xeno grins, it's hard to tell if this is a joke or if he is merely a psychopath, it may well be both.
Brother stares at Dorn and nods slowly, "Very well. You know the Deep better than we, we shall change Kyo's cover story thusly".
Xeno fields the apprentice's final question, "We shall deliver to you the payment you require in the morning.
Yes, you may all take your leave Pox. Darkhope, accompany our new allies to the basement. There each of you shall take a different portal to your respective parts of the city. Tomorrow, make your way into the Foreign Quarter and out through its gates. Separately. We shall gather you then and your true journey should begin. It is best you interact no longer within the confines of this city. Those who Harp may have more eyes and ears".
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Vladislak bows before Xeno, not adding a single word as the mission is clear.
On their way to the basement he does smile and comments "Only a day and a night to taste the Keep's hospitality before we spend long days in the road... Such a shame, such a shame." which prompts a full fledged laugh.
Once in the Foreign Quarters the rashemi wandered off, in search of fine liquor and finer women, and the knowledge that a puch full of money could buy him any pleasure his heart desired for the night.
He does make a stop before his hedonism festivity started, to see if he could find any potion seller.
Dorn gives a slight bow upon receiving the instructions and says nothing. On their way down Vladislak makes a comment to which he replies.
"On our successful return, I may introduce you to the Keeps delights. Granted it may take a full ten day to appreciate them all."
Once Dorn clears the portal with Rook in tow. He makes his way back to the Inner Quarter, taking the gate that run's by the Tower High of Manshoon for good measure. Instead of heading directly home, he felt the need to relax after all the events of the day. He takes a detour to one of the brothels. The Inner Quarter had the best of everything in Zhentil Keep, the escorts being no different. Ironically now that he found himself metaphorically in bed with both the banites and the zhentarim, the escorts would be even more welcoming. After all their spymaster patrons were now his, not that he intended to let anymore information slip then before. But should his name come up for any reason, nether group would even take notice. He was feeling like a long haired half elf today.
Alchemist kindness indeed, one of the greatest gifts to the realms ever created. The sun was setting and if the messages he needed to pen were not enough to speed him home, being a local he knew the greater terrors that waited for night to fall. He made it home before the last rays of light died in the sky. He needed to arrange everything to be ready in Waterdeep as well as the cargo gathered. With that complete he would simply have wait.
The Year of the Prince 1357 DR -
Those who would be Tyrants do as instructed, for now.
Dutifully, they exit the city separately, most carrying all of their worldly possessions. For some, it is bittersweet - bitter - to have traveled so far for some long only to leave mere weeks, days or hours after arriving - sweet - to have had the Gods smiling upon you granting you Tymora's own luck! To be chosen for a secret mission for the Zhentarim and the Church of Bane with so little experience.
Those of greater wisdom pause for only a few moments, doubt creeping into their souls, what if this is an elaborate set up by the Black Network? What if they are mere patsies set to take the fall for some agents of greater experience and skill? The thought is pushed away, this is far too elaborate a ruse for such a twisted plan. Only the most twisted of minds would go through such machinations. Of course, the Keep is full of black twisted souls...
Soon enough, the Tyrants are assembled traveling with yet another Acolyte on foot away from the city and into the sparse woodlands nearby. Greeting them in a small copse of woods is a Wizard. He allows all of you to enter as small hut which when you step within is much larger than it appears outside!
Within the main floor are two magical circles. The Wizard says little but hands each of you enough gold to cover some road expenses, 50 gp. He directs the two separate groups where to step. Once they do so, they are whisked away on the wings of magic to the exact locations that the Mirrormanes's claimed they would be.
The only delay is in Daggerford, Vlad and Suni are forced to wait an extra week for the arrival of the Waterdeep caravan that the others travel with. Even this works to the advantage of the cover story as no other caravans are available for Suni and his "bodyguard" to travel with. Thus, joining the caravan appears natural and not at all contrived. Luckily, the Zhentarim provided enough coin to each of you to not starve or have to burn through your own wealth.
The caravan from Waterdeep has exactly what Dorn listed, likely the details of that list are what caused the caravan to be late. All goods were purchased by way of letter of credit from a Halruaan Wizard. At least, that is what the agent of House Xizurth tells Dorn when the caravan arrives at the rendezvous point near the Ardeep Forest. Of course, the House agent is surprised to find Dorn on the road but does not question the son of his employer when he is ordered back to the Deep.
Of course, as much as Suni and Vlad may want to complain at least they had a city to sleep in, the rest of the group spent a few days at the edges of the forest, relying on summoned water by Vorik and the hunting skills of Edgar and Ja'far to eat!
Once Vlad and Sun are allowed to join the caravan the travel begins in earnest. There are of course some hardships on the way. Broken wheels, pouring spring rain, bandit ambushes. All are weathered as if the group were hardy traders. The guards selected to guard the caravan and the wagonmasters appear to be legitimately what they are. The other merchants selected for the trip are stereotypical of their ilk.
All are professional and skilled, if any are Zhents, none reveal themselves.
The presence of Edgar is not welcome though as he is here ate the sufferance of Dorn Xizurth, the merchant House with the most goods on the trip, none say anything. But none have to as their eyes say so much.
At Elturel, some merchants head south and others join the caravan east. Again, none who join make any allegiances to your secret masters known. The road east is uneventful, with the exception of a small Goblin raid at night, at least until the first night within the Reaching Woods...
Spotting the light and the feel of the breeze, Vorik quietly informs his two 'bodyguards' that there might be trouble.
Mawj nods in thanks to Vorik's warning. As nonchalantly as possible, he unhooks his greataxe and shifts into a defensive stance. Preferably with partial cover from some boxes or barrels.
Dorn had spent the days in relative comfort, as much as could be had on the road. As his own identity was his cover, it was only fitting that his covered wagon serve as his sleeping quarters and home on the road. No walking on hard roads or suffering the elements for him. A padded seat was vital for any merchant that spent more then a day or two taking his wares to market, as such all House Xizurth wagons were more then basic. The armored and reinforced build of the wagon was covered with the common paneling of the usual covered wagons, only it's added protection served both as a safety for that with in and an extra barrier to the elements. No stranger to what was to come, he had added a few items at the banites expense. Among them was his current fare at the moment, a late evening snack.
He was sitting at the door of his wagon, Rook beside him and alert as usual. A few slices of elven bread, mist cheese, and a cup of evermead from one of the few precious bottles he was able to procure laid out beside him. He had "donated" a barrel of dragon's breath beer to the caravan guards on the condition that he keep control of consumption. That would keep the guards happy, but he would not risk them growing insensible over good drink. A little gratitude towards his person would not hurt ether. If they had to choose between him and someone else. They would choose a generous merchant over a cheap one every time, regardless of who originally employed their services.
Rook growled, his eyes and nose pointing at the source. His thoughts broken at the uncharacteristic sound from his companion, he waved over his nearest "guard".
"We may have company, alert our own discreetly. We don't need to be surprised."
No need to alert the entire caravan. His own resources needed to be preserved, he did not have the luxury of aiding others at every shadow. He mentally sends forth his senses towards the area Rook indicated, he would not be disappointed if it was merely a squirrel. Not that such a thing would provoke his loyal hound.
Early in the journey, the Pox of Phlan watches the wizard who prepares to transport them with his every move, eager to pick up any whiff of how he may perform magic.
When not seeing to the caravan's repair needs on the road, he spends time on his own, within a wagon, trying bits and pieces of cantrips he has heard here and there, trying to see magic auras. Pox has yet to have much success. He watches Dorn, too, when the apprentice uses magic, but seems reluctant to ask for tutelage. He'd rather figure it out on his own for now.
The night they arrive at the Reaching woods, he sits near the campfire, whittling some replacement spokes for the wagon wheels for when they may become needed.
Pox notices nothing amiss, but does he perhaps notice Vorik whispering to his bodyguards, and Dorn in turn approaching some of the other guards?
Longtooth does spot something and its hackles raise and he skitters into Pox's basket.
Ja'far continues his role as needed, he remains relaxed having not notice any sign of warning. When vorrik tell his of potential trouble, he offers a slight bow to Vorrik, drawing his blade from his sheath.
He begins to mutter an incantation, whispering to his vulture.
"Tanisha, fly up high above the woods. Tell me how many threats and how big." Ja'far puts out his arm for his vulture to take flight.
suni manages to notice the light... and shivers. he didn't like this feeling, and tales from his homeland of vengeful spirits and oni only made him worry more.
he assumes the light was something supernatural, and begins looking for people to throw at the spirits, using them as food instead. then he'd find the closest mage and quickly convince them to attack it, effectively making sure he was on the bottom of the list when it came to food...
He does this all while remaining relatively calm, although anyone watching could tell he was getting nervous
Mawj nods in thanks to warning. As nonchalantly as possible, he unhooks his greataxe and shifts into a defensive stance. Preferably with partial cover from some boxes or barrels.
Kyorruel spent the trip mostly keeping to himself, going over his cover story and running different scenarios in his head for different eventualities.
Spotting the light and feeling the cold envelop him, Kyorruel tucks one arm into his cloak while using the other to pull the cloak tighter about his person. With his good arm now hidden from view, he carefully draws his rapier from its sheath and moves to warn whichever of his companions is nearest and but stops when he sees that Dorn seems to be aware and has warned his two guards.
He tries to appear unconcerned while continuing to scan the horizon for hints of danger.
The finicky man that he was, Suni slips over to his Bodyguard, You know... he says, starting up casual conversation. Back in my homeland, we didn't have all these creatures you folks have here. Back there we have much different monsters
He subtlely hints about the light,
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Vlad didn't enjoy playing the bodyguard part the whole journey. Sure, the travel had been relaxing so far and he wasn't pressed to do menial labors or any other annoying tasks... but he hadn't been born to be a servant.
The bastard turned to Suni with bored eyes "This isn't my homeland either, my lord. Back there the monsters are dreadful and humongous..." the rashemi paused to see what the merchant meant or if he would add anything else.
Suni nodded, Ah, but in my homeland, one couldn't go about ten ahh... Feet? Ten feet before running into some spirit, out in the woods. They like to hide and jump out when you least expect it
in his nervousness, Suni almost blantantly points out the light I he saw...
The Year of the Prince 1357 DR -
The would be Tyrants alert each other of the threat. The rest of the Guards in the caravan remain unaware of it, somehow. The Tyrants ready themselves but do not advance.
The taller man is muscular and ruggedly attractive man in his early 30s with long black hair. He wears leather armor and has a scorch mark on his left side. The bastard sword on his back is sheathed, all other sheathes for smaller swords and daggers are empty.
The shorter man has brunette hair a bit more plain looking with a bandana holding his hair back though it's much shorter than that of his companion. His armor is piecemeal plate more piece than plate. The breastplate has a hole burned right through it and the man is clearly wincing in pain from whatever effect struck him. Like his ally, but one weapon remains sheathed, his a longsword. He has a backpack slung across his shoulder but with its contents spilling out.
The source of the flash is not obvious.
Both look disoriented and put their fingers to their lips each asking the other to remain silent.
You see nothing in the area which may have been threatening them. Both remain rooted in place.
After a few tense moments pass nothing happens. No noise, no movement and no further flashes of light. The camp sets up as if nothing is amiss, cookfires are set, tents erected, etc.
Dorn's thoughts turn towards magic, both for their arrival and current state. They were weak and scared, not to much of a threat. He could let it pass, but then again. He hated unexplained things, more so if whatever did all that came after them somehow and they suffered for it. Dorn waves over his two guards Mawj and Edwin. Whispering to them, making sure they can't be overheard. First explaining what he found out about their new guest.
"I suggest we go with the direct approach, call them out. If they run, we let them go and that's the end of it. If they fight, well you two get to play your role of guards for everyone to see. I doubt they can be a threat for an entire caravan as is, something can be gained with the current state of affairs."
Unless ether man stops him, he has the pair walk in front of him for a few paces before he calls out to their uninvited guest. Loud enough for everyone to hear him, those that weren't ready should be able to with that.
"Would the pair of you like to show yourselves. I know your there, I know your hurt, and I know you hushed each other when you saw us. If you have no ill intent, I suggest you walk out of those bushes, towards us or away from us. But you won't be hiding there anymore."
Suni loads his crossbow, more willing to fight when he isn't up close... He then readies to fire on the first sign of threat.
Mawj unhooks his greataxe and stands ready. The leather grip creaks in his hands and very quietly -- you would have to be standing beside him to even catch it -- Mawj is softly humming a song.
Seeing the activity at camp suddenly increase, Pox takes out his spyglass and uses it to see if he can better see what the fuss is about, pointing it in the direction most people are looking/moving.
silver slides over to the Pox. Careful, friend... he whispers. there is something in the dark... a spirit or monster of some kind... he glances around. I don't like it...
The Year of the Prince 1357 DR -
At Dorn's announcement the camp comes alive, weapons drawn. All on alert.
Whispers can be heard from the brush for a half a minute and no longer. Then the men walk forward, hands in the air, weapons sheathed. They exit from the southern side of the woods and stop at the edge of the road.
"We are not here to harm anyone. In fact, we are not quite sure where here is..." states the taller more muscular man. The shorter one scowls at him but says nothing else. Both men are clearly wounded from some sort of encounter.
The caravan guards and other merchants seem content to leave Dorn to do the talking.
However one does call out, "Cleric! Where's that damned Cleric? If he's making time with my daughter again..." He turns to one of his henchmen who runs off into the small copse of woods on the northern side of the road. "What happened to you fellows".
The shorter one responds, "Nothing that needs concern you. We've left it and much more behind". It's the bigger man's turn to scowl.
Dorn shakes his head slowly, his eyes never leaving the pair.
"Your between the reaching woods and trielta hills, near Scornubel. Now what makes you think you have any right to tell us about our concerns."
He turns toward the one that called for the cleric.
"I wouldn't offer them any help if it's going to bring us trouble. That one opens his mouth only to try to hide things from us."
He turns back, looking at the smaller man.
"I'm inclined to insist you go about your way. Sense you feel the need to hide things for your own gain at our risk. Or do you think us blind and dumb. Clearly you have been in a fight, a bad one involving a mage or creature with magical abilities by the looks of you. My guess is you ran, ending up here out of fear or desperation. We are merchants not fools, you can be honest with us or take your secrets with you into the night."
If it was a mage, then even if they used teleportation, they would not be far behind. If it was some sort of creature then it would depend on what kind. Some could be lost, others only delayed. Without that information it could mean they would have to move, drive these men away, or let them be. It depended and frankly he didn't need the interference with their mission if their was possibility of it. He would assess the potential or be rid of it as best he could.
The Year of the Prince 1357 DR -
The smaller man chuckles, "You need not worry about it Merchant because we've left that battle through yon portal which is now closed". He motions into the forest behind him.
The bigger man chimes in, "If you've a caravan heading, well anywhere, we are quite competent guards, despite our recent troubles.
I am Kelemvor Lyonsbane. My friend here, is Cyric of Sembia".
The Cleric pops out of the Forest nowhere near where the guard went in looking for him. The Merchant who hired him glares at him, "And where've you been Sunite?" The Cleric, one of the most handsome men you've ever laid eyes on, gives a winning smile, "Communing with the Goddess of Nature, now, what seems to be the trouble?"
Mawj maintains the grip on his axe -- he had not received an order to stand down and was determined not to blow his first mission.
Hmm... What silly names...