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The first guard steps forward to engage the dwarf, leveling a scimitar slash at his head but the canny dwarf ducks out of the way, the blade missing by only a hair's breadth. Dodging the attack, Shador smiles back to Absalon saying, "Don't let them escape - what good advice!" He then attempts a sudden leap past the guard and toward the sorcerer, drawing his rapier as he does so. He snaps his blade out at the sorcerer as he lands, hoping to distract the man before he could cast another spell.
"...Shador, what was the situation at the Djinn when you were there? Last I knew, Ji and Kaja were both still there. Did you meet anyone else that might be able to help?" "The situation at the Djinn can be summarized thusly: Kaja escaped into the night, the inn suffered a broken window, and Morn suffered rather more permanently." Shador thought back to the scene at the inn - the fighting, Kaja's tricks, her daring escape, the hulking naked human that appeared out of nowhere crushing anyone in his path, the frightened guests and the strumpets huddled in Morn's bed. What a night of chaos! he mused. Turning his attention back to the pair he adds, "Suffice to say that the inn was left in a state of uproar, and I've no idea if that witch Kaja would show her face there again. I can however, find out." Shador's thoughts turned to Ji, the curious bartender on duty that night. I tipped him well and he was not present to witness the exactly what happened. Perhaps he is the one we should focus on. "I would suggest that Kaja is a lost cause. Her trickery is difficult to counter, and she knows that we tried to do her harm once before. It will be difficult indeed to capture her. However, Ji is another matter; he would likely be more open to persuation. If not more open, he should at least be easier to catch."
"Why don't we begin with how you happened so readily upon us this morning. Perhaps you can tell us where the disciples of the Shadowlord have taken to." Shador sheathed his blade and followed the pair back into the cellar of the abandoned store and closed the door. Seeing that Majib and Absalon still eyed him suspiciously he stroked his beard and said, "I have no idea where our brethren may be found, though that is the purpose of my returning here today; I hoped to find a clue here or perhaps even find you, Majib. It was a broken meeting with you that resulted in my troubles at the Djinn, after all." He let his eyes linger on Majib a moment, gaging Majib's reaction to what he said. The dwarf's eyes moved to Absalon and he added, "As for finding you so readily, I put that down to simple reasoning. It is unlikely, Majib, that you would be in the brothel; it is too well guarded and I very much doubt you would return to the temple itself given the situation. Thus you would likely be here. Now, tell me what you know of Kaja and Morn, and whatever else you may about the breakup of the guild, and do so quickly, lest our enemies use the same reasoning I did to trap us all in here."
"Gentlemen, I assure you there is no need for bloodshed! ... " "I hope your wit is as sharp as you claim your blade to be, Northerner. If you apply it, you will see that if I desired, neither of you would have left the chamber below alive. The very fact you are standing here before me should be proof enough of my intentions." Shador lowered his blade slightly, making a point to drop the tip toward the floor in a sign of parlay common among those that live on the street. "Majib, we have much to discuss and it would seem the three of us have the same purpose, at least for now. Can we return below and talk, though more quietly this time?" The dwarf stood atop the stairs, waiting for his answer, balanced on the balls of his feet in case the dangerous swordsman tried anything rash.
Signs of comprehension flash across Shador's face as he listens to the whispered conversation. As the talk draws to a close, Shador scampers up the steps as quietly as he can and moves to the side so that he would not be seen when the door opens. Drawing his rapier from its soft sheath, he waits until he hears footsteps beginning to ascend the steps from below before stepping boldly out to face those leaving the room below... "Conspirators would do well to talk more quietly, would you not agree Majib? You and your northern friend had best come up, for we have much to discuss. Do nothing foolish and no blood will be spilled. In fact, we may all come to an mutually beneficial arrangement." His voice was quiet and filled with the practiced calm one develops living on the streets. His Chondathan marked him as a native speaker and a stranger in Calimport. At least, Shador hoped it did.
Ah, not as deserted as it would seem. The question is: who is here? Is it Shadow Thieves meeting to discuss their plight, or is it those that wish to ambush them? Only one way to find out...Shador slipped his dagger back into his belt and then examined the steps carefully before dropping into a low crouch and moving quietly down the stairs.
With a deft slip of his shoulder, Shador drops his pack long enough to secure his tools and then shrugs it back into place. With a final look toward the street, he slips his dagger out and creeps as quietly and as carefully as possible into the abandonded shop as he can, closing the door behind him gently as he scans the room.
This does not bode well. The lock is a good one and seems suspiciously well-cared for for a deserted building. The mystery deepens it would seem. With a final glance toward the street, Shador fetches his tools and the does his best to hide in the darkness of the alley as he sets to work on the lock. I have always been fairly lucky, perhaps this time... He sets to work on the lock, hoping he can bypass it swiftly.
Shador drifts to the nearer of the two shadowy alleyways next to Alej's Ointments and then slips inside, using his experience in moving subtly in the city to remain unobserved. Once inside the darkened alley he freezes, keeping a defensive posture in the event the alleyway is occupied. From his position in the darkness, he glances back out at the passersby in front of the closed shop to determine if anyone noticed his actions.
Perhaps the Sand Pearl can wait thought Shador as he took in the guards' serious expressions and glanced at the walls and other fortifications that separated the royal district from the rest of the city. I could return at night if need be, let me see what else I can uncover. The dwarf wandered away from the heavily guarded walls and gates of the royal district and returned by a different route to the Bazaar, stopping to examine wares on display as he moved steadily back toward the Bazaar's main thoroughfare. If the Sand Pearl is inaccessible, perhaps I could learn something at the potion dealer's. Shador continued his path through the crowd, searching for Alej's Ointments, a known gathering place for the Shadow Thieves.
"How kind of you to concern yourself with me," responded Shador, his tone one of polite condensation. "As a matter of fact, I do have a thing or two to check on elsewhere in the city regarding these runes. It will likely be a quiet, subtle conversation and thus would be lost on you. I am certain you do the right thing in punting about the docks with Othos and I wish you godspeed." Shador consumed the last of his tea and stood up from the table. He collected his things from the corner, folding and storing his pelerin in his pack. He then turned his attention to Othos, saying, "I am off to speak to an acquaintance of mine named Majib. He may be able to help us understand these runes or give us other information. I should be back before nightfall, sooner if possible. I will leave word here for you if my plans change. Do the same in case I must find you." With a quick look to Torbjorn, he adds, "Be careful. We do not need to make it any easier for our enemies to find us than it already is."
Shador ate the dried fruit and sipped his tea in silence, his eyes turning again and again to the sleeping Torbjorn. What is it about that human that I find so annoying? Perhaps it is because he has but one tool, his strength, and thus all problems are reduced to ones that must be solved using it. One day, this attitude will be the end of him. Perhaps I will be there to pick over his corpse. He smiled wanly at Orthos as he harbored these thoughts, hoping the mystic could not read his mind. Orthos and Torbjorn seemed like they were getting on well enough; it would be poor form for him to wish death upon another house guest. Poor form, perhaps, but not entirely unwarranted. The dwarf's smile broadened into a true smile and at Orthos' questioning of his jocular mood, Shador only shook his head. "If it is the same to you, Orthos, I should like to see an acquaintance of mine about this rune of yours, especially given what I heard last night. It may be that I can learn something of it. If you would be kind enough to sketch another for me to use for reference, I will show it to a few people that may be able to tell me more. I will meet you back here no later than the evening, unless you have another suggestion."
Intrigued by the talk over the rune and Torbjorn's change of attitude, Shador slips out of the shadows and stands beside Orthos and Torbjorn at the table. "Are we all friends then, at least for now?" he asks quietly, his eyes on Torbjorn. "No more kicking in doors and waving weapons about?" Without waiting for an answer, Shador sits down at the table between the two humans, looks at the teapot derisively and shakes his head slowly, as if mystified by the many strange things he has seen humans do throughout his life. He turns his attention to the rune Orthos drew for Torbjorn and wracks his brain trying to determine if he has seen anything like that before.
This ought to be interesting, thought Shador as he listened to Orthos shout down the hulking human, glad that man's attentions were focused elsewhere. He took advantage of the situation and began slipping toward the door, not only to clear a path for escape but place himself in a favorable position should the brute decide to attack.
A jolt of adrenaline surged through Shador as the huge Northman splintered the door and crashed into the room. His hand went instinctively to his swordbelt which lay nearby and he tumbled away, drawing his rapier and casting the belt aside as soon as the blade was free. "What in the Hells is this!" he shouted before he realized he was saying it. "You're the brute that tried to kill me in the hall! Come back to finish the job, have you? I -" Orthos' calm words were finally getting through to the groggy dwarf and he looked at his thin companion with mistrust. "You know this mountain ape, Orthos?" he said, gesturing at the huge man with the point of his rapier.
Accustomed as he was to sleeping in dangerous or unclean places, Shador had no trouble finding a corner in the relative luxury of Orthos' apartment in which to curl up and rest. The warm meal filled his stomach and made him groggy, and he drifted off to sleep with images of the mysterious symbol dancing in his head.
"A dry, clean floor will suit me fine. Let us return to your rooms, Orthos, while we consider our next action. Perhaps I can have a look at those runes when we are in a dry place; I may be able to tell you more about them." Shador joins the others in the rain and moves along the muddy street doing his best to stay wary given that Kaja escaped and is presumably still a threat. As he travels, Shador quickly goes over what he knows of Morn's personal information in an effort to recall where his home may be.
Shador rubs his fingers over his palm. The pain was still there slightly, but it would fade with use. "Thank you, Orthos, for the healing. If I knew she was so quick with her blades I would have just run her through and be done with it. Alas, I wanted her alive and must live with this tingle in my fingers until it works itself free." Shador stops to pick up his rapier, sheaths it and then hurries to follow the others out of the building.
"No you don't, lass!" bellows the dwarf as the glass shatters around him. He casts his rapier aside and grasps for the fleeing woman, trying to wrestle her back into the hall.
I haven't seen a naked body other than my own in two and twenty years, and now this! Shador averts his eyes and steps back into the corridor, this time wary of the large human's presence. Hearing Orthos' call, Shador rejoins his companions in the hall and begins to move in the direction Orthos is looking though he has no idea what is looking for. "Where did she go?" he asks Orthos as he passes him, rapier held at the ready.
Shador slips his blade free of Morn's corpse and spins to face the bellowing attacker behind him. Seeing Torbjørn's naked form leaves him flabbergasted and halts him in mid motion, his rapier dangling senselessly down by his side. "Ach! Cover yourself man!" he manages to spit out, averting his eyes as he does so. Shador involuntarily moves back from the human and stumbles over Morn's body and into his room.
"So a test of blades it will be, eh? Very well, but I have the advantage; it is only a matter of time before you fall!" Shador srtikes an en garde pose and squares off aganst Morn, looking for an opening and striking when he can.
"Impressive but futile, Morn," quips Shador as he flashes his rapier in and out of Morn's defenses. "Let us see how I fare!". He then lunges at Morn, the tip of his rapier sinking deceptively lower as he executes the thrust.
"Wench!" Shador hisses toward Kaja. "You alerted them!" He slips his rapier free and steps to the side of the door opposite the handle. "Our escort has given the sign to Morn to come to the door armed. Prepare yourselves!" Shador whispers to his companions. Returning his attention to Kaja he says "Open this door immediately! Do it now."
The woman has a point, thought Shador. I wouldn't lead this bunch into a darkened hallway without a length of steel in my hand. "Alright, now that we are all in agreement with one another, let's get this business underway." Shador moves his pelleren aside to expose the handle of his rapier. "After you, lass."
Shador's eyes go wide as the decomposing hands come loose from Berzeral's clothing and land with a thumping squelch on the floor. But Kaja's tone and her steady motion toward her weapons snaps Shador from his disgust and his faces darkens with a scowl. "There is no need for bloodshed, particularly yours. Certainly you can see that not only are you outnumbered but my companion here is of a particularly violent bent. Why not let us visit Morn and be done with our task? And before you refuse, ask yourself this: what is it worth to you to keep your hands?"
Shador stepped into the dimly lit common room and shook the rain from his pelerin, moving to the side to allow the others entrance into the place. His eyes never left Kaja's dark form as he turned slightly behind him and whispered, "Have a care, my friends. We would not want to wake the sleepers." He turned back to face woman at the table, hoping that his words urged his companions toward delicacy and caution rather than force. It was hard to tell with this bunch.
The emptiness of the streets put Shador ill at ease and he found himself looking toward likely hiding places as they stood outside the inn, his hand resting upon the hilt of his rapier. Given this distraction, it took him a moment to realize what Orthos was saying. "Keep in mind that we wish to help the Shadow Thieves, not hunt them, and thus we need those that can tell us more as allies, not enemies, " he whispered. "Both Kara and Morn may be able to help us, may even desire the same result we do, so we should try to extract information from them in as friendly a way as possible. If you wish, I can see if Kara will tell me anything, and you can stand ready with your spell if she proves difficult. What say you to this?" His eyes drifted to Gimble, but it was too hard to read the halfling's guarded expression in the downpour. A shadow caught Shador's attention and he half turned toward the alleyway where he glimpsed the movement. It turned out to be two stray dogs, mangy and hunting for scraps among the discarded waste in the mud. He muttered to himself, rubbed his eyes and ran a hand through his beard. There was something wrong in this city, something rotting, but he could not put his finger on it. The thought bothered him more than a little.
The rain streamed off the oiled leather of Shador's pelerin as he slopped through the mud beside Orthos. When Orthos suggested how they may gain entrance to the tavern, the dwarf merely grunted in reply. "As long as it is dry, I will be glad. If there is gold at the end of this muddy walk, I will be gladder still." His eyes slipped over their surroundings, alert for guards or worse, other rogues that may mistake them for revelers.
Yes, Shador has a clan name. However, in my background I state that "he uses no clan name". In my view, Dwarves are proud of their clans, thus the lack of a clan name is telling. I left Shador "unnammed" as a plot hook for the DM. Why does he not wish to use his clan name? Is there a dark secret in his past that he wishes to hide? Is he ashamed of his place in life? These are all things we can develop later if needed or desired.
Shador is waiting on Orthos or Berzeral to make the move back toward the tavern.
As the magically illuminated guards fade into the storm, Shador turns his attention back to his new companions. "I would prefer that we keep our meeting with Morn as quiet and swift as possible. Do not forget that Morn and Kaja both used to be associated with the Shadow Thieves and may be allies. Kaja will know we are present and may come to Morn's aid if he struggles, so we must not allow such a thing to happen. However, we also need to learn what we can from him if we are to begin unraveling the mystery of the Shadow Thieves' disappearance. If we are in agreement on this, then let us go while the night is still fresh."
Shador was about to respond to Orthos' question when Berzeral rounded the corner and he halted what he was about to say as he made a quick appraisal of the man. Another nightwalker, he thought. This one seems a tad more feral than others I've seen. He kept his thoughts to himself and listened impassively as the mage and his friend spoke. But when talked turned to the poor wretch of a woman back in Orthos' apartment and their flippant discussion of her possible pregnancy, Shador's eyes returned to the newcomer and he studied him carefully. What kind of rabble have I fallen in with? Surely that woman's condition has nothing to do with the Shadow Thieves. I don't mind removing one's enemies but what profit can be gained by holding that slip of a woman against her will? He was so consumed with these thoughts that he only half heard the plan being concocted to return the tavern and visit this Morn. It took him a moment to reconstruct what he might have missed in the conversation before he could add anything of his own. "You should know that Kaja, the thin, dark-skinned woman at the Efreeti’s Djinn is not only the night watchman, but is or was tied to the Shadow Thieves. Though I know little else of her, you can assume she is competent, so if you can enter the closed tavern without resorting to violence or attempted stealth, all the better."
The dwarf moved aside as the dark-skinned woman stepped in from the storm. He mumbled a reply to her greeting, feigning disinterest, but he watched her move to the table as he fetched his pelerin and threw it over his clothing. There was something interesting about her, and he wracked his brain trying to figure out what it was as he joined Orthos outside. He gave Gimbal a brief nod and then followed Orthos into the pelting rain and muddy streets. When they reached the apartment, Ortho's sudden move toward his dagger caused Shador to snap his rapier into his hand. It took but a moment to see that the human did not plan on betraying him, and although he could not see into the room because Orthos blocked the doorway, he understood that they had surprised an intruder of some kind. Relying on instinct more than anything, Shador stepped to the side of the door to take him out of the line of fire should a battle break out, scanning the corridors outside the aprtment for signs of attackers.
So the halfling felt the Shadow Thieves would pay well for competent aid. Very well. In all honesty, the job did not sound all that promising, but Shador's supply of coins was dwindling fast and those without gold simply did not exist in Calimport. The offer, if he could call it that, was better than crawling the streets trying to find a partner he could trust and work with, not that he trusted this odd pair. However, they did seem to have a plan, and a plan was something Shador desperately needed. Shador turned his attention to the human when he began to speak. He found it hard to believe that the man thought solving the puzzle of the Shadow Thieves was as good as profiting from their disappearance. Shador shook his head in disbelief. The concept of intellectual pursuit for knowledge's sake was lost on him except in the vaguest sense. While Shador had always learned things easily, he strove to learn only those things which allowed him to directly profit. Intellectual pursuits were a toy of the rich or the safe, and he was neither. When the man finished talking, Shador stroked his thick black beard for several moments, an unconscious habit of his whenever he was thinking hard about an issue. After another minute of silent thought, Shador reached his conclusion. "Very well. I believe there is something to be gained by aiding one another in this pursuit. I am called Shador. I have your name Gimble, but I have not yet heard your human friend here speak his."
Shador pondered the halflings words. Suddenly alot of what he was seeing and hearing began to make sense. Those he had made contact with, like that cur Majib, were certainly a nervous lot, far more afraid to act than would otherwise be expected in a city that no longer had an organization with a chokehold on criminal activities. Apparently Calimport isn't the free haven he thought it was when he first heard that the Shadow Thieves had fled the city. Suddenly, the city seemed far more dangerous than it appeared. He briefly considered leaving Calimport to drown in its particular brand of filth, but there was really no place left to go except Chult and in no way would that exotic place offer the same potential for reward as remaining in Calimport. Shador held the almond up between his fingers and examined it as if it were a fine gemstone and then raised his eyes first to the man that sat silently listening to the conversation and then back to the halfling. After a moment he popped the nut into his mouth and chewed it thoughtfully and then addressed the passionate halfling. "What you say has merit, friend. This explains a number of things that were not clear before we met. But surely there is something in it for those who help the Shadow Thieves? I suppose you are not wholly ulturistic in your motives? In what way do those that help the Shadow Thieves return to power benefit?"
Shador's chuckle is dry and prolonged. "I did not say I was a simple merchant. What I said was that I take advantage of opportunities that present themselves and I do not do so in the manner in which the merchants here would have me do. As far as protection goes, perhaps I am missing something in your position. My experience in protection from the likes of the Shadow Thieves is that they are are collecting a fee for protecting one against their own member's actions." Shador finshed his mug and set it on the table. Picking up an almond, he said, "Is this not the case in Calimport? Do the Shadow Thieves offer more than threats for the gold they no doubt take?"
Shador sat at the table and looked hard at the halfling. The prudent thing was to keep him talking and see where it led. It sounded like this one wanted the Shadow Thieves back in power. While that may be a good thing for business as usual, as he said, it didn't neccessarily mean it would be good for his business, unless of course there was a catch of some kind. Shador's eyes shifted momentarily to the halfling's silent companion. What a curious pair. They are planning something, but what that is, I haven't the slightest idea. "Aye, I know the Shadow Thieves are vanishing. One cannot be in Calimport a tenday and not hear the rumors. As for what you say of the poor and the rich, I would only respond that being rich has always been better than being poor; the absence of the Shadow Thieves has not changed that fact."
The lithe girl walked by Shador without a word and he supressed a shudder at seeing such a bag of skin and bones. She should eat some food, put some weight onto that frame, he mused as she slipped out the door. The gale outside is likely to carry her away! His glance returned to the halfling and human, whom he occasionally watched over the rim of his mug. At the halfling's gesture, he nodded and moved to join them at their table, shifting his mug to his off hand so he could more rapidly reach his rapier if they had more than conversation on their minds. His practiced gaze slipped over the pair seated at the table. The human was tall and confident and looked bookish despite his athleticism. The halfling was hard to read, though there was something in his eyes that made Shador realize he was being subjected to the same sort of scrutiny he was giving. His eyes met the halfling's for only a second, and it seemed like they shared an unspoken moment when each was aware of the other's activity. The realization was too fleeting to allow a response, for he found himself at their table, their eyes turned toward him expectantly. "A dark dreary wretch of a night it is. A fair night for ale and tales, eh? Though I dare say there will be no more ale here tonight, so a tale will have to do. What brings two such as yourselves out on such a night? Business or pleasure?"
Shador placed a gold coin on the bar and indicated with a short gesture that he expected nothing in return. This was a city where gold was king and information, the right information, was virtually priceless. A person in the information business could not afford to be tight with his money or he soon found himself without contacts, or worse yet, contacts that lied to him. Perhaps this exotic-looking barkeep would be of use to him later; he would likely remember the tip in any case, at least for a time. After the two men at the bar left, Shador returned to sipping his drink and silently speculating about the origins of the barkeeper. He was also listening to the loud human converse with his much quieter halfling companion. No matter how silently one of the Big Folk said the word 'dwarf', Shador, with his excellent hearing, almost always heard it. It was a small quirk of his, but one that had undoubtedly saved his life on more than one occasion. It was too bad the halfling spoke so quietly after that, for the only words he could hear afterward were 'familiar' and 'north'. Shador shifted his position slightly and looked at pair sitting at the table and the large black bird they seemed to keep as a pet. The human he did not know, he was certain. The halfling was not familiar to him either, but then again, the Warren in the Docks District teamed with halflings and he had always had trouble telling them apart. They were like dwarf children, lacking proper beards to help identify themselves.
The moaning wind and rumbling thunder rose suddenly in volume as the door to the inn slipped open. A short figure shed his streaming pelerin and placed it near the door to dry. The hastily made cape had stained his clothing slightly, but that was to be expected. Only in Calimport could merchants react with such speed to fulfill a need. The monsoons had no sooner begun to moisten the ground then the cape-makers were hawking their ill-tanned, heavily oiled patchwork leather capes. Still they were useful, and their popularity was making those that could produce them rapidly a fair bit of coin. Shador turned to the few patrons at the inn, his small stature and glossy, well-kept beard marking him as a dwarf and thus almost certainly a foreigner. Dwarves were not common in Calimshan, preferring to hawk their wares through middlemen rather than endure the desert environment. Only the most demanding dwarven merchants would oversee to the sale of their goods personally in such a place and by the look of this dwarf and the lateness of the hour he was no merchant. His dark eyes swept over the room and he scowled as if he was looking for someone that was clearly not present. As I thought. I knew that cur Majib was unreliable. Just as well I find that out now instead of at knifepoint. He turned to pick up his pelerin but the crash of thunder and rain beating on the shutters outside made him think better of it. He sighed resignedly and returned to the bar, glancing only slightly at the keeper’s flaming hair and feral eyes. “Something to wash the mud from the back of the throat if you will,” he rumbled, his gravelly voice somewhat out of place in the quiet of the inn.
My Gather Information skill turned up the forgotten fact there might be a bonus feat in the offing... And regarding languages, it is more flavor than anything else to have all the FR-compliant languages but at times it can be helpful. Nothing like slipping into Illuskan to discuss something privately where the shared language is only Common. Also, use of Common over a region's "main" language may mark you as an outsider if nothing else does, depending on the role of languages in the campaign and the degree of nationalism exhibited by the citizens of a particular country. For example, speaking Illuskan in Neverwinter is probably a sign you are an enemy, and speaking Common rather than Chondathan means you may hail from some distant country in the Realms. At least, it could be interpreted that way, if the DM deemed it so. This is all "fluff stuff" and in no way assumes anything about this game. I provide it so others that may not be as familiar with FR can learn a bit. Shador/Lich-Loved |
