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The masked leaders of Waterdeep sat in council, perusing the letter the courier had brought. Piergeron glanced at his long time ally and friend Mirt and then over at The Blackstaff. "This is not good my friends. The Lords Alliance made a promise"
Mirt shrugged, and his larger girth moved...noone would ever guess that the Moneylender was also in charge of one of the largest organizations of spys within the Realms. "Our alliance with this tribe of Lizardmen is new, and untested. How do we even know its not a trick.?"
another masked member looked up and said in a gruff voice "The specifications of our alliance were quite plain. They protect the trade route from banditry and monstrous incursion between the area of Dagggerford and the Lizard Marsh, and we in turn assist in keeping the Tribal Shamen, Redeye in power. Can we really take the risk of not getting involved? Wouldnt that be seen as not upholding our alliance? What kind of message would we be sending?"
The wizard known as The Blackstaff had sat listening, his hands steepled underneath his chin, his dark eyes missing nothing. When he spoke, his voice was hesitant as if looking for the right words..."Yet, The Lords Alliance cannot just send military aide when there isn't an opposing military force. The locals might see it as an act of aggression...or worse an invasion"
One of the Lords who were against assisting the Lizards spoke up then..."Locals? they are only Lizardmen, Bullywugs, and other swamp dwellers...who cares what they think..."
Piergeron cut him off "I do. I gave my word to the Shamen. He has brought peace to the area. He has united the swamp dwellers which noone thought was possible. he is a stabalizing force in the region. He truly will be an asset in the future, but only if we stop this now!"
Khelbun said slowly...deliberately "I appreciate your loyalty friend. However, there are forces within our own ranks...our own power base, that would use this against us to destabalize our unifying force. Who knows where this true threat comes from...Luskan? Ruathym? Who knows. We must trad carefully so as not to be seen 'dealing with monsters'.... and also not be seen as too militant."
Mirt smiled. this was right up his alley..."Adventurers" he said with a smile.
The gruff voiced Lord spoke from behind his secret helm "Hmmmm that could be the answer"
Mirt remarked again "Just so. Ill find us a band to go in and take care of the threat and put Redeye back into power."
Khelbun smiled. This was exactly the answer he had hoped would come...Piergeron would agree since it was suggested by Mirt and not one of the others.
The Paladin Lord of waterdeep nodded and said "I like it. Mirt old friend. find me a good group...and whatever you do rescue Redeye!"
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Mirt sat in the hidden wharehouse near the docks and looked through the leaflets that had been handed him in the form of reports on the various promising newcome adventurers in the city of late. He made clicking noises in the back of his throat as his thick fingered hands moved among the papers. He nodded occasionally and put one of the leaflets on the desk in front of him. Minions of the Spymaster of Waterdeep watched and waited...after a few minutes he put the bundle of paper down and held up only 6 leaflets...
"These 6 then. Send out members of the society to gather them. Have them meet me at the Wild Boar Inn at dusk tomorrow. Make sure noone follows and noone knows what this is about. Ill be there personally to talk with them...though of course they wont know who I am." His voice was muffled behind the gold mask he wore..and the long black robe kept his other features hidden. The spies that worked for him knew him to be one of the lords of waterdeep, but nothing else...except he paid well and he was in charge of the network that kept Waterdeep at the top of the heap for cities in the Realms.
He stood and made his way to the hidden door and in a few seconds he was gone...The men left behind wasted no time in setting things in motion...dispating 6 teams of three to approach the adventurers...3 men who wore darkened clothes and carried few weapons that showed...three men who moved into the shadows as sure as if they were born there.
The mission to Rescue Redeye had begun.
Merle stood across the road watching the Wild Boar inn her traveling hood up to obscure her features and every now and again she would seem to whisper something to a small cat that was currently perched on her shoulder.
It had only been a few hours earlier that she had been approached in a back ally by three cloaked figures which she had come pretty close to blasting until they had mentioned that they had been sent to deliver a request to meet with someone inside the very Inn she was watching. They had been rather vague about who she would be meeting with macking her a little suspicious of what was going on so she decided to head there early that had been an hour ago and she had spent the entire time asking herself and seph if she should go in or not
Eventually two things decided it for her. For one thing if they ment her harm they could have just jumped her when they first approached her so doing this seemed like to much hassle for a simple trap and more importantly Her stomach growled and she realised how hungry she was. Deciding that even if it was a trap she would at least be able to face it on a full stomach she headed into the inn.
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The placard hanging outside the Inn on the on rusted bronze above the doorway creaked as it wavered in the breeze....The image of a charging Boar painted upon it. The three that had followed broke off and moved away to take up positions overwatching the Inn. Their cloaks helping them to meld into the shadows of Waterdeeps dock ward. The lighting here always poor and thats why the Spymaster preferred his meets in this part of town.
The inn's interior was spartan, even if functional. about 12 tables were haphazardly placed around the interior, varying amounts of chairs numbering from 3-6 crowded each table. The floor was dirty and some questionable substances clung to various spots on it.
easily 20 people sat at the tables, most look like those rough and tumble types that worked the docks, but a few had the look of hardened veterans of the frontier life.
A bar was against the far wall with 8 stools set in front of it...a drunk had his head down on the bar, already succombing to his inebriation, even at this early hour. 3 of the other stools were taken 2 by more of the dock wards ilk, one with well manicured nails and a spotless purple hemmed robe and a well trimmed goatee who did not even look up when Merle entered....though the Raven on his shoulder eyed the catfolk with caution.
The Bartender was a thin, almost emaciated man with wisps of greasy hair hanging about his somewhat balding pate. He moved behind the bar with nervous jerks as if a man who had far too many addictions.
several booths lined the walls, and most were taken with groups of 3 to 6 and many of these groups looked like the adventuring sort going to or from and hanging in the Inn until they had to leave.
the booths in the back had curtains that could be drawn to shield what went on within from prying eyes. A cold fireplace sat on the left wall, no fire burning because there was no cold to push away.
A couple waitress, women who looked like their lives on the docks had hardened them, moved around the slightly crowded common room. between the bar and the fireplace a stair went up to the second floor. A plump waitress with a few missing teeth, but curves in all the right places, eyed the feline form and said as she approached "Can I help You....Miss?
"Oh could I have something to eat please?" Merle asked as she looked around the inn searching for whoever the contact was supposed to be as well as trying to keep an eye on the door "Anything will do."
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The waitress saw Merle looking around and said "Are you looking for someone? perhaps I can be of assistance, I know most who come and go hereabouts...."She paused to adjust her aproan around her ample hips, and continued as she balanced a drink tray in one hand "Is there something particluar I should bring you? I havent had many of your kind..." she eyed the fur that covered the catfolk with nothing more than curiousity "and am not sure what your taste is..."
meanwhile a curtained booth to the right on the far side of the Inn had partially opened and a gloved hand had motioned the Catfolk towards the private booth. Her keen eyes could make out a black robed figure wearing a gold mask.
"Anything with meat in it will do" Merle replied as she spotted the man gesturing to her "and I think ive found who Im looking for please excuse me" with that she rose from her stool and headed into the private booth
"You wanted to see me about something?" she asked the masked man "Something important if I had to guess?"
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Curiosity gave way to reason, who would invite a 'me' to a meeting? I haven't quite made a name for myself -yet. Someone probably worth keeping my eye on thats who. And that is also the reason why I decided to go to the Wild Boar Inn.
I was fairly sure I could get out of trouble if this was some kind of trap. The letter said to arrive at Dusk.
the Drow pondered the common word written on the invitation, rolling it around on her tongue.
"Dusk. How fitting for one like me. I will simply have to use this as my new nickname."
I lost the two people tailing me well before Dusk, they were not as skilled as I in the arts of misdirection and stealth. I had the impression they would do no harm regardless, but I'm not about to let them think they were in my league.
The inn was seedy looking, covered in shadows even though the sun hadn't set yet, I got no danger prickles so I calmly went to the door and pushed the door open. I walked in before the door swung closed and had a look around for signs of things out of place. Whatever that may be...
Having made up his mind it was time to move on again, having turned so the winds were at his back once again, Eremus set foot on the cobblestones of the road which would lead him out of Waterdeep and somewhere else. He felt that almost electric cool jolt as his soft worn leather boots touched the reddish-brown stones and looked up smiling a crooked smile.
His tiredness fading almost immediately, he had not walked ten steps before his attention was drawn to three men cloaked in darkness who seemed to be waiting for someone in an alley.
As they saw he had noticed them, one of them spoke, 'Eremus Vagabond."
Surprised they knew his name, Eremus took a step towards the alley, making sure his options for flight were still a possibility. Muggings and worse were always a possibility and rumors of kidnappings to serve down in Skullport occasionally floated around but Eremus couldn't imagine these men would have any need for a tired dusty unkempt soul such as himself.
Still he spoke to the shadowed men, "Yes. That's me."
In a voice clipped and succinct,his accent betraying his education, one of the men in shadows responded, "Your presence is requested at the Wild Boar Inn this evening to discuss something of importance. Tell no one of this and see you arent followed."
Intrigued, Eremus nodded and opened his mouth to ask another question before the cloaked figure cut him off,"All will be explained then. I have no other information to give you except it is of importance to the realms and could be beneficial to you and your cause, priest."
Laughing, Eremus nodded to the men and smiled again,"Tell whoever you serve I shall be there." And with that he wandered off barely noticing the men in the shadows disappearing.
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Later that day, He gathered his few possessions from The Stuck Pig and bid his friends there goodbye, leaving behind a small sack of coins hidden in a floorboard of one of the guest rooms. Tenants of the faith of Shaundakul were scarce and hard to pin down so those faithful took it upon themselves to do whatever they felt might encourage travel or help travellers. An unexpected windfall after a long journey seemed just the thing to Eremus.
Now at dusk, Eremus looked at the signboard of the Wild Boar Inn and grinned to himself, "From one pig to another... I hope it's not another cooking job. "
Eremus waited as a large fellow, burly and well into his cups, staggered from the inn, pushing the doors open with a slam, regarding Eremus with tired bloodshot eyes.
"Safe travels." Eremus remarked as the man grunted and staggered into the fading light of day.
Much like the Stuck Pig, the Wild Boar had its usual rowdies, but mostly was full of folks who'd put in a long day of work and wanted to wash away a bit of it with a drink or two. He noticed several fisherman and a few of the local guard, off duty, flirting with one of the waitresses. A chatty fellow was over in a corner plucking on a lute warming up for a performance and chatting with a few of the locals. Occasionally they erupted in laughter.
As he sat down and asked for a spiced mead and some cheese, he noticed what at first he thought to be a person in thick furs, a barbarian from the North but they turned briefly to look away from a cloaked figure sitting in a booth and he realized the features were feline, a cat person? His interest peaked he wondered if this might be related to whatever he was called here for.
His mead having come, he sat enjoying it, downing his cheese as the cloaked figure made a motion for him to come over. Mead in hand he stood up to walk over as the door to the inn pushed open and a drow stepped in looking around.
As the bar got silent for a moment, he grinned to himself, "Oh...it IS going to be an interesting night."
Vergor lay on his bed in the shabby dockside inn listening to the creak of wood and water from the open window and enjoying the weight of the snake laying on his chest. He absently rubbed his hand down Ol' Pitch's head and the top-most portion of his torso as the serpent flicked it's tongue languidly tasting the air. Pitch had choked down a fat warf rat that morning and using Vergor's body heat to aid in digesting his meal, as well as basking in the bond he shared with the swamper druid.
"Tammarah, Pitch" said Vergor "Tammarah we sail back down tuh Daggerford. Got them pelts sold off'ta tha furrier and got tha news 'bout Misty Forest delivered tuh tha mages, so's we can head out come dawn. Be good tuh get outta this city. You gots loads'a rats aroun' but still so damn cut off fromma real world. We..."
The druid trailed off as he heard footsteps in the hall outside stopping by his door. More than one person, but he couldn't say how many. He slid the snake off of his chest and let it slip onto the plank floor. The 5' cottonmouth coiled and watched his friend with impassive predatory eyes. As Vergor picked up his scimitar and slid it soundlessly from it's sheath, one of the individuals outside his door knocked. The flimsy door barely muffled the voice on the other side "Is this the room of the guide known as Fenstrider? My associates and I come with word for you."
Vergor opened the door and gazed passively at the three dark-robed figures in the hall. "Ayup, ah'm Vergor Fenstrider. Who're you and whatcha need?"
The lead figure didn't move to step into the room, nor did his companions move at all. He spoke low but distinctly "We come to pass along an invitation to you to come to the Wild Boar tonight at dusk. There is a matter of some import that may concern you. This is in strict confidence. Tell no one of your destination or of this exchange."
Vergor shrugged and with a low grunt swung the door closed "Aight." He went and layed back on the bed. Reaching down with one hand he laid the scimitar down and picked up the serpent. "Looks like we gots a doin' tonight." He pet the snake's head again and closed his eyes taking a nap before he headed out to find the tavern.
Vergor had never been to the Wild Boar, but he had seen it as he was taking care of his business. It wasn't far from his inn. Before heading out into the streets, the druid gathered all his belongings, not trusting to leave them in such a high traffic area. After a brief mental bonding session with his snake, Vergor slipped the animal into his Haversack and went out into the night.
The druid slouched through the streets of dockside and eventually found the building in question. He entered the common room and scanned for an empty chair with the least number of neighbors. When a barmaid comes within reach he taps her shoulder and orders any kind of fish they might have, bread and beer.
Vergor figured that the party that wanted to meet with him must already know him or have an accurate description of him. The three agents who found his room hadn't hesitated or even really questioned his identity. They did't want to be known but they knew him. Fine, they would let their agenda be known when they wished. In the meantime he would eat and keep his eyes open. He wasn't really braced for the felid in the cloak across the room and openly stared for a long moment.
Waterdeep is a city of wonders, he supposed.
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The room went deathly quiet as the Drow had entered within a few moments of the Catfolk and stopped just inside as the waitress was talking to the felinoid. her mouth went slack jawed as she gaped at the Drow woman. she stammered and the carefull balanced tray of drinks tilted and one glass half full of beer slid over the lip and dropped to the floor with a resounding crash, splashing the legs of the catfolk.
The rail thin bartender put his hand under the bar as if resting it on a weapon, in case....
The Raven on the shoulder of the purple robed man watched with interest.
The minstrel who played by the hearth, missed a note and his voice caught in his throat. Several of the simple dock workers in the bar made almost inaudible grunts and the tension of fear was thick enough to cut with a knife...
Still the golden masked man with the heavy thick black robes motioned for Merles attention and near The Clerics back a whispered voice said "The Drow is one of those being gathered. Meet the man in the golden mask in the booth at the right."
The Drunk, leaning on the bar with his head down...glanced up at The Druid, and met his eyes, with a look clear and precise...not one clouded with drink. and then glanced behind him at the motioning arm and then back into the eyes of the local.
It was an explosive situation at best...and scant seconds had passed...
Merle's attention is suddenly grabbed by the sound of breaking glass and the feel of liquid splashing off her leg.
"Hey are you o....." she begins to ask the waitress but trails off a bit when she see's the expresion on the womans face. turning slightly she notices the drow woman and the numerous looks she seems to be getting from a lot of the local's. Curious she continues to watch the situation unfold while at the same time heading towards the Masked man.
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To the Waitress: "I wouldn't want you to have to pay for that glass out of your wages, I will leave a some coins on the bar to pay for it."
To the room: "Be at ease people, I am not here to cause any trouble. I'll even pay your next round as a sign of good faith."
Dusk casually pulls her cloak aside to show her coin purse on her belt and leaves a single gold coin on the bar.
"For the glass and the drinks bartender, I'll find my own table in a quiet corner and behave."
The group of burly dockworkers going cold with fear over the sight of a single drow was not lost on him, drow had a very bad and somewhat well-deserved reputation in this part of the world. In hopes of defusing the situation some and distracting attention from dusky woman, Eremus turned to the troubadour in the corner and flicked him a gold piece.
"Minstrel. Surely you could lighten the mood with a song here? Something a little bawdy maybe?"
Seeing the minstrel catch the gold and nod, Eremus grins as the familar strains of 'The Lady of the Manorhouse' begin and maneuvering between the crowded tables makes his way over to the golden masked person sitting in the booth.
Nodding to the catperson, "Milady.", he slides into the booth across from the golden mask.
"Hope you don't mind a little risque tune from the bard there... usually a pretty good distraction." Smiling and bunching his green heavy stitched cloak around him he set his mead down on the table and introduced himself.
"Eremus Vagabond, servant of Shaundakul, but I guess you already know all that. How can I help a Lord of Waterdeep?" [Assumptions are the gold masks are known about by the common public]
Vergor nodded back to the 'Drunk' at the bar and was just about to rise when the barmaid set the plate of steaming fish pie and mug of ale in front of him. Glancing across at the Drunk again, he shrugged then gave a little nod, but picked up his spoon for a few bites before business or fighting.
The appearance of the Drow woman made Vergor pause with his spoon full of flakey pie crust, and fish and carrots in gravy raised halfway to his lips. The blob of steaming pie plopped onto the table as the druid pondered whether he should be reaching for his weapons or not. She didn't appear to be wishing a disturbance, but she was a Drow, and that meant trouble in all but the most rare of cases. Not wanting to be the originator of a scene, Vergor composed himself laid the spoon back on the plate and laid his hands on the table, ready to start forming a spell. When she announced her lack of violent intent and that she was buying a round, he shrugged a bit inwardly and thought "Okay, she gettin' a pass for tha now, but we keein' un eye on her."
When the man tried to divert attention away by having the minstrel play a bawdy song, Vergor smiled to himself. "Nuthin' like'uh bit'uh blue tune tuh redirect attention. Well played." He then watched the feline lady and the man move toward the masked man that the Drunk had signified. "Well, looks like they's uh distinguished company bein' assembled. 'haps I should saunter on 'at way. Well, affer a bit more ale."
Clearing his throat, the druid summoned the barmaid "Ah'll take that offer'ah uh round, thanks." Once he is served his drink he ambles over to the table of the masked man to join the eclectic group introducing himself with a brief "Ah'm uf tha assumption that Ah'm bein' sought out bah you? Is tha correct?"
Arennea awoke with a start. She hurt all over, and her fingers came away bloody when she touched the back of her head gingerly.
She looked around her, seeing the burnt wreckage of the building, the bodies strewn about her, the carnage threatening to bring bile to her mouth. And suddenly the memories of what had happened came back in a rush.
She had been making a delivery, working as a body guard. During the transaction, a messenger had appeared, giving another halfling a note. He had had time enough to have a look of confusion, then interest and amusement cross his face, before the Abyss had broken free of reality and slammed hard into hers.
She didn't recall who, or what had attacked. She didn't understand why. She just knew it looked like she had been the only survivor. Across her lay the dead form of the other halfling, warpick in one hand, the messengers note clutched in the dead fingers of the other hand.
A moment of detached curiosity took her. 'Why would I want to look?' she thought to herself. 'I've just survived something, nearly. I almost died.' Yet her hands took the note, and opened it.
The message was simple. straightforward, and not addressed to a specific person. 'Master halfling'. It was a request for a job, for an able body. As if to signify and solidify her decision, her stomach gave a great growl like a wounded hydra. She stood, gathered herself, and slid from the premises, hearing the sounds of people and alarm being raised in the distance. Authorities would be here soon. She had to leave before they found her.
Tucking the note in her pocket, she headed into the darkness, never knowing how heavy that small piece of parchment would weigh in her life.
Arennea found the location indicated on the note. It was disgusting looking, at least to her. She glanced back at the pillar of smoke in the distance that she had just left, and with a lump in her throat, she pushed the door open.
It was darker inside, but seemed friendly enough. There were perhaps a little over two dozen people of varying races around the establishment. The smell of what she expected was a roasting duck wafted out of the kitchen as a serving girl entered with a tray of broken glass.
She stood there a few moments more, and was just about to go get a table, when the door was slammed open behind her by several sailor looking types, knocking her over into a table, where she stumbled over a chair and went down in a crashing heap. The sailors didn't even notice her.
She lay there, on her back, eyes closed, trying to control the wave of emotion and enbarrasment cascading over her. Great introduction for a job she was lying about.
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So much for behaving I thought.
Common[drow accent]: "You boys are going to help that young lady up, and apologize immediately correct?
Dusk rises from the table she had almost got comfortable sitting in and lets the newcomers see an innocent white toothed smile on her ebon face. Her eyes attuned to the dark have already started to glow an eerie red as her kind often does in the dark.
She continues: "Thats not the way a gentlemen behaves, and were all behaving here tonight correct people?"
Embarrassed, Arenna rises to her feet, stepping out from under the table.
"I'm okay. It's okay. Really. I'm a bit of a clumsy... I'm sorry. It was my fault." She seems honestly more intimidated by the humans than by the Dark Elf.
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The Cleric of Shandukal walked over and slid into the booth by the masked man and was greeted with a nod of the mask. Shortly thereafter The Druid stood at the table and announced his arrival, with the Feline Merle, just a mere two steps away.
The Drow watched as the halfling took a tumble the toughs that had jostled her had been on the verge of cracking a joke about chikldren staying out of places there elders frequented...but the phrase was only half mumbled as Dusk stood and scared the devil out of them...
Dusk's eyes fell to the note in Arranea's clutched hand and her eyes glanced back at the golden masked individual holding audience with the strange and motley group in the far corner..and her eyes were met by the eyes behind the mask..and she instinctively knew that was the group.
The bards bawdy tune ended and he began another ....as the phrase started "awww The Man who did you last night, canna do you anew...." and the crowd went wild with the old favorite.
In the booth the Lord of Waterdeep smiled at the tune behind his mask, though the 3 who had joined him could see it in his eyes as he scooted to the back of the booth, making room for up to 6 more with him and remarked "Well played Gerrsun. Your gesture certainly made the situation better....We will wait for a few seconds more for those present to join us. before I tell you of my needs..."
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Seeing her appearance had the desired effect Dusk walks over to the man with the mask and waits to hear what interest in her he would have. It's a good thing they didn't draw steel she was bluffing about the threat and had no real desire to spill blood tonight.
Dusk pops a stalk of cinnamon in her mouth and rolls it around until things get started.
Nodding to the druid and the drow and the rest who have approached, Eremus introduces himself, his mop-headed unkempt brown hair hanging just slightly over his eyebrows. "Eremus Vagabond. Nice to meet all of you. We seem to all have drawn some sort of attention to ourselves here in town to have been hand picked for employment by the city itself. "
Downing a draught from his mead and wiping a drop on his sleeve, "Who might all of you be?" Smiling, he regards them each in turn briefly before thanking the gold-masked man. "Well...a little bit of sauce never hurts."
[May help if we all give a brief description of ourselves as we are all coming together. Eremus Vagabond is a young man, mid twenties with a tanned face and brown tousled hair. He smiles often a crooked grin almost a trademark. He wears fairly non-descript brown and green clothes and almost seems just a bit dusty...and doesnt seem to care.
Also, I noted you said Gerrsun instead of Eremus. Do I need to create an alias on the paizo formus for Eremus and pick a picture? I'm kinda new to the PBP here so wasnt sure.]
Vergor nods at those at the table. "Name's Vergor. Folk's down Daggerford way call me thu Fenstrider."
[Vergor is an older man, late 30s/early 40s, and looks older than he is. His black hair is graying and there are crow's feet around his green eyes. He has lived outside for most of his life and his skin is stained a dark tannish brown from the years of sun and steeping in the rich tea-colored waters of the swamps. He seems sligtly gruff and unused to being around a lot of people.
He's obviously a swamper... he wears leather armor that is covered with alligator skin and a leather cap that is also alligator hide. Hanging at his side is a scimitar that looks like it is made out of wood.]
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"Im Merle Barer pleased to meet you." the cat on her shoulder gives her a little nip "ow okay okay and this is my partner Seph."
description
Merle looks to be in her late teens with Light brow fur with black stripes, medium length dark brown hair and blue eyes. She also has a thin Lithe build emphasising speed and agility over strength as well as a long striped tale that is currently waving back and forth slowly.
For clothing Merle wears a simple looking no sleaved tabbard style dark blue robe with a slim belt going round her waist. Her arms are bare except for the bracers she wears on them and she has a pair of very well worn thigh length leather boots that are dark brown in colour.
Her partner Seph looks almost like a common house cat with fur clour and striping almost identical to Merls. He also seems to have a gleam in eyes suggesting a greater intelligence than most animals of his kind.
"Im Merle Barer pleased to meet you." the cat on her shoulder gives her a little nip "ow okay okay and this is my partner Seph."
description
Merle looks to be in her late teens with Light brow fur with black stripes, medium length dark brown hair and blue eyes. She also has a thin Lithe build emphasising speed and agility over strength as well as a long striped tale that is currently waving back and forth slowly.
For clothing Merle wears a simple looking no sleaved tabbard style dark blue robe with a slim belt going round her waist. Her arms are bare except for the bracers she wears on them and she has a pair of very well worn thigh length leather boots that are dark brown in colour.
Her partner Seph looks almost like a common house cat with fur clour and striping almost identical to Merls. He also seems to have a gleam in eyes suggesting a greater intelligence than most animals of his kind.
//gah used wrong account for the previous post
The young halfling looks at the next person around the table, and notices they are looking at her. With a start, she realizes everyone is looking at her. She blushes deeply.
"Ah, my name is Arennea," she says quietly, looking at the table in front of her. Her eyes dart around the table, as if to say thats it. Thats all I am.
A tall figure, dressed in loose fitting, light colored clothing, strides into the tavern from a door near the stables. The figure looks around for a moment as if dismissing each table as not the one she is looking for.
Setting eyes on the odd group at the table with the masked man, she strides over.
Stopping, she motions to the table, resting her fingertips on her forhead, then her lips, then her heart, bowing slightly with the last motion of her hand. A heavily accented voice comes from behind the veil, "Pardon my tardiness. Your stable hands do not know how to properly care for a horse. I am Indrani Roshan."
She stands until properly invited to the table, even in this land of barbarians there is no need to lose all sense of honor and tradition.
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The group all accounted for...almost. The Lord of Waterdeep let his eyes fall on each of them, and when they came to the halfling...Arrenea he said softly..."And you fine halfling, I do not remember requesting your aide, rather the assistance of a male of your race...The very fact you made it in here means my assistants do not find you a threat. What can you bring to our table of need...
The Cleric Eremus was asked for his healing and ability to stave off the undead. The Druid for his knowledge of the swamps. The Catfolk for her senses and magical ability...Indrani here for her blades. The Drow for her .....skills. Your talents lie where?
The task I will be asking of you is both dangerous and in need of the great discretion, but it is not without its rewards. Before I go on I would ask each of you if you are willing to risk your lives...nay your very souls for the rewards a greatful Waterdeep can provide...and you Arrenea, why should I trust you?"
He said all of this while looking through the slits in his mask of gold. His hands covered with fine gloves, and the heavy black robe that hid every nuance of his form...None could know who the Lords of Waterdeep were...
Merle's ears perked up at the mention of reward. From a city like Waterdeep that could be almost anything anyone could imagine. Maybe even a cure for Seph's condition and as for the risks.. well risking her soul to help Seph was a price she was willing to pay.
"You can count on me sir." She announced then looked to see what everyone elses reaction would be paying particular attention to Arrenea.
"I'm sorry," Arennea says quietly, holding the cup of water in front of her in both her small hands. She looks around the table embarrassedly, and avoids the eyes of the large man in the mask. She seems to think for a few moments, and then quietly, simply, states "I'm good with a bow..."
"Someone skilled with a bow is good and a extra set of hands is always useful" Merle chimes in trying to back up the halfling
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The masked man could sympathize with Merle for wanting to help the shy halfling...and that was a good sign that bonds could be formed easily...But He wanted answers...so he said one more time "Little one, exactly how did you come by the letter that was delivered, and what do you bring to the table....bowmen are easy to find, what makes you....Needed. Or what makes you want to join this group? maybe thats more to the point...."
Arennea spoke without sound, into the mind of the man in the mask. She spoke of the fire, the attackers, and coming by the summons. She spoke of her hunger and need for employment. She spoke of the training with a bow that she had received, that made her unique from other archers. And she spoke of her need to find her baby. In silence, she stared at the Lord, answering questions she didn't fully know the answer to herself.
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When the Lord of Waterdeep heard her voice in his mind...he was mildly surprised. Of course she still couldnt glean any information in there about his identity. It was only communication after all and the mask denied any sort of probing. But still there was mild surprise. He took the information in rather quickly and then without elaborating he said "Thank You little one. I accept your answers. You will indeed be an asset here. Though I do fear that some of what you seek will not be found here....but perhaps I can look into it for you while you are gone...as a partial payment for services rendered."
He then looked at the others..."I will know talk of the mission. Several months ago, a Shamen of no little repute rose to power within The Lizard Marsh. He sought to bring back the Lizardmen and Bullywugs to their status of old, being Elder races with great kingdoms. He established control and created working alliances with the various folk of the Marsh. Once that was accomplished he approached the Lords Alliance and asked that his Kingdom be allowed entry into our esteemed fold. His part of the agreement was to protect trade coming up from the heartlands, and to keep his people from raiding settlements. We agreed to a trial period, to observe and make sure this was no trick.
It wasnt. He held true to his word at every occasion, and within a short period we agreed to his terms. All he wanted in return was for his people to be treated as intelligence beings, to have the backing of the Lords Alliance should invasion occur, and open trade. Things have progressed well. This has happened very quietly and without open announcements. You can understand how some more vocal elements might not appreciate alliances with....monsters.
Well, to get to the point. A month ago we received a request for aide against a usurper...an entity that was trying to stop the alliance and tip over the apple cart. We sent a diplomat when we should have sent more immediate aide. The diplomat arrived to find The Shamen abducted and noone sitting on the kingdoms throne. civil was is imminent, and the various swamp factions are tumbling back to anarchy as petty tribal disagreements turn to harsher actions.
Now we are in a sticky situation, We can take no overt action, because there was no overt announcement. We cannot send troops because there's been no invasion. Its a delicate situation and needs a delicate yet firm touch. This is where you come in. We want you to travel to the lizard swamp. Find out who has abducted the Shamen. Rescue him, and asist him in stabalizing the region. As I said it is a dangerous job, and part of the payment for thi is Waterdeeps eternal gratefulness."
He then looked at each awaiting questions....
Vergor rubs his chin contemplatively "Ya talkin' 'bout Redeye, yeh? Ah don' know 'im, but ah trained some under one'a his teachers. An' uh ol' bullywug shamen in thu area, as well. Heard theys was int'restin' tuhdo downa Lizard Marshes ah late. Mos' mah work's been over inna High Moor for the last two year, but ah this soun's mighty int'restin' tah my ears."
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Still standing Dusk begins:
Accented Common:
"Well you know what I bring to the table, mostly by reputation I am sure. What good is this offer for me masked one? Would I walk the streets with my held high and a prayer to Pelor on my lips for the heroic deeds done?
I'm not sure you can give me what I'm worth, gratitude goes only as far as the man giving it and what is gained in return. Seeing as you keep your name and face hidden it doesn't amount to the dirt I walked in with on my boots.
No offense meant by that, I deal with shady sorts all the time, and this deal has the mark of shadow all over it. Don't take this as a sign of rejection however, I 'am' intrigued.
Being that I am probably a unique among my kind, one not dedicated to Lloth and her ways, what gain can you offer me? If in your power I don't think I'm asking much if I ask for-citizenship.
I would think a man in your position, looking out for the city, would love to have a hero at your command move in and protect the very city she now dwells in. Agreed?"
Dusk moves the cinnamon stick to the other side of her mouth with her tongue and smiles, showing a row of white on a black canvass.
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The masked man eyed the Drow woman as he leaned back in on the bench and relaxed..."My good woman. I can understand your hesitance, based off your past experiences. But you are in Waterdeep now. There are real reasons we go masked and cloaked. There are many an evil throughout the lands that would like to see the Gem of the North fall into chaos. So it is better we stay hidden and not give them the opportunity to strike. There are only two of our kind that stay unmasked...That is The Blackstaff...he who is Khelben Arunson, Archmage, certainly you have heard of him...and of course Piergeiron The Paldinson and all know of his fairness."
The heavyset Lord crossed his arms over his ample stomach and continued "But as to your request. It certainly is within my power to grant you citizenship, and should you do this thing for us, you most certainly will be looked upon as a hero in our favor."
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accented common:
"Well then you have my word I will see too it the task is complete. I will uphold my end of the bargin or die trying."
Dusk takes the cinnamon stick out of her mouth and twiddles it in her hand while she ponders.
"I speak for myself of course, my word is my own I cannot make the same promise for those gathered, but those that do agree I will lend my sword- and my skills."
"I have another request, not one born of a tit for tat. But I would like to meet a priest of Pelor. I wish to know what trials I must suffer to be inducted into the ranks of their faith."
"Is that something you can help with, Lord of Waterdeep?"
"Please, I would go unarmed if they would fear a meeting with my kind, but I have come far and listened long to the new song in my heart, and it is as radiant as Pelor himself."
Indrani catches a faint nod from the masked man and sits with the invitation to join the group. She listens to the discussion, saying nothing, though she knows about tribal wars from the old tales told by the elders, it's been a thing of the past for many centuries. The desert is hard enough to survive when the tribes work together.
She watches the dark woman intently, as her fee seems a very small thing for what she knows could be dangerous work, though her comment on the mask...
"I also hide my face. Does that mean you will not trust me or my skills in this task? Do you think me 'shady' for my covering?"
Nodding to the masked man, "I've no head for politics but the leadership of Waterdeep would have been better served being open with their citizens about their alliance with these lizardmen maybe?" Shrugging, "Just seems if you count someone a friend or an ally you own up to it is all ... but I know, its neither here nor there..."
Letting the thought trail off, Eremus purses his lips in contemplation and then grinning nods," Still a safer road is always a good thing, you can count me in."
"As for questions, what can you tell us about where we are going? Any idea who might of kidnapped Redeye? Or why? Is the diplomat still there or are they here and can we talk with them for a bit?"
Realizing his curious mind has gotten the better of his tongue yet again, Eremus settles back down waiting for answers as he takes anouther draught of his mead.
"Oh and does anyone here speak the lizardman tongue?"
Vergor looks at Eremus quizically for a second and simply says "Si renthisj Vs'shtak. Si xanstra si vucottruol onureth vi Tilsin-sthyr svitran." Interestingly, his accent seems to disappear when he speaks the language of Dragons. "Yah, ah can parley wi'em in theys language. Harder tah study wi' someone when you can' make yoself unnerstood."
"Are we sure they even speak draconic?" Merle asks
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"Not being descendants of Dragons, I do not believe they do" replied The Lord of Waterdeep..."From what I know if Lizardmen they speak a dialect of Reptillian, that would share things with both the Yuan Ti and The Ophidian. Perhaps a very slight of sharing with Draconic, but that might be only 1 out of 20 words or so"
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Indrani catches a faint nod from the masked man and sits with the invitation to join the group. She listens to the discussion, saying nothing, though she knows about tribal wars from the old tales told by the elders, it's been a thing of the past for many centuries. The desert is hard enough to survive when the tribes work together.
She watches the dark woman intently, as her fee seems a very small thing for what she knows could be dangerous work, though her comment on the mask...
"I also hide my face. Does that mean you will not trust me or my skills in this task? Do you think me 'shady' for my covering?"
The drow looks to the masked lady.
"It all depends on the reason lady, I would think you shady indeed if you soon offered me a job with questionable rewards yes, but seeing as it appears you are not. Please don't stick your hand in the Viper's nest, all that you'll get is a painful bite."
"Your motives and skills have yet to be seen, never mind proved. Though I am willing to see them. Again, don't take offense to mere words."
"The noble here has his reasons and presented them thus, I can understand his position."
"Whats your reasons for hiding your face, ey?" Dusk directs at the masked lady.
Nodding to Vergor, "Ah you did say you studied with some of them. Good enough. Hate for us all to show up and insult whoever we are there to meet. Wouldnt't be good if they thought we said we were there to 'stab their toes', when we were trying to say 'thanks for the hospitality.'
"And if anyone needs a drink, feel free to order what you'd like. Seeing as how this looks like its going to turn into a journey and that always puts me in a good mood, I'm more than happy to buy."
Vergor gives a low chuckle at the priest "Naw, tha' might be gittin' one inna bad placement, indeed. But there tisn't uh wurd fer 'hospitality' in thuh tongue'a thuh lizardfolk. Mos'ly one say 'Thank'ee fer not eatin' meh.' Utilitarian critters, the lizardfolk."