|
A white robed messenger steps up to you holding a shiny stone with a centralized button. After depression a small hole opens in the stone projecting an image on a nearby wall.
A mithril clad halfling seated on an overstuffed leather chair before a large bookshelf. He wears an infernaly stylized smoking jacket over the armor. The Halfling removes his spectacles and speaks.
"Hello, I know there are are many pressing issues at hand these days. Wars, plagues, robberies, and etc. My name is Meridoc and I would like to help you. You see Pathfindering is hard work, and dangerous items might land in the wrong hands. Here at the Darkive we specialize in the location, recovery, and treatment of dangerous texts. But moreso, we CARE the most about our members. Led by the most passionate Faction Leader in Absolom's history, the Darkive has a personal interest in you, your training, and your personal career path. In fact we have just added a specialized wing dedicated to the study and disect.. um well being of our agents. Sure these other guys have a lot of grandious ideas, but here at the Darkive we .. care .. about You. Come join us...
Direct all inquiries at the Darkive to the humanoid resources department, special projects, marketing and information release. Cell 4503269
Message ends, the white robed figure walks down the street 20 yards, and restarts the object
|
|
Heccan nods and gratefully accepts the stone from the messenger. He takes the items and seats himself at a small table in his painfully small and unadorned room. A half empty bottle of Chellish Red rests next to a well used goblet. He pours himself another glass and holds up the stone to the light of a candle burning at the center of the table. Drawing on his innate dark power, he examines it in detail noting its aura.
Well, here is something you don't see everyday.
The dark haired sorcerer places the stone back on the table. He downs the contents of the glass Well, how bad could it be? Shrugging, he presses the button triggering the message. Heccan laughs, pouring himself another glass.
Why that little devil! Always the clever lad, he always had a knack for promotion. Likely why an appointment to see him usually took a month or more. The dapper man runs a hand through his wavy dark hair and sighs, swirling the contents of this goblet as he holds the vessel to the light of the candle. I best make sure we have fresh ledgers for all the new blood.
|
|
Namaeva accepts to bauble from the messenger, quickly examining it to ensure it's not priced, taking the white robes as a sign of devotion to Kalistrade's Prophesies. Pressing the button, Namaeva smirks as he message plays. "Ah, my dear liberator, ingratiating himself to Mistress Dralneen by encouraging us all to scope out potential recruits."
Namaeva hands off the item to a rather tall individual with baggy clothes and wide-brimmed hat. They take the stone with a groan.
|
|
A small brass band slowly follows the the man in white robes. The songs though pleasent seem to be strangely hypnotic
In the Darkive
We keep a lid on evil books
In the Darkive
Please dont give us funny looks
In the Darkive
We really want folks like you
In the Darkive
In the Darkive
We want you, we want you, we want you as a new recruit.
|
|
"Now sir," tuts Namaeva as she joins Meridoc in some secluded corner of the Dark Archive. "I don't think it's a matter of--" Namaeva snaps her fingers at her servant. "--Fuzzbungler, Dralneen number seven if you would." With that the servant passes Namaeva a small kettle and two cups, along with a decanter of water.
"Thank you. Now as I was saying, I don't think it's a matter of the band, any trumped up Andor--Ahem, "Liberty's Edge" representative can muster a force of mere human bards to accompany the handing out of magical baubles to deliver platitudes." Namaeva begins making some tea.
"If we're to get more members dedicated to our cause, we need to focus on finding people who are already interested in the things we do, but simply haven't heard of us. It's all fine if a stunning rendition of The Passion of Absalom gets us a half-orc alchemist who's mutated himself into a living weapon, but we're looking for people who have a keen love of and talent for handling and acquiring dangerous items of historical significance. And besides..."
With the tea prepared Namaeva pours out two cups, but hops off her chair and takes her own cup. "... Command Undead is a far more resource efficient if one needs musical accompaniment. Now if you'll excuse me, Mistress Dralneen will be coming back from a salon visit with the Blakros family shortly, and I always find her mood after such visits... compelling. Fuzzbungler, bring the supplies to Mistress Dralneen's office when good sir Meridoc is finished with his Sargavan tea."
|
|
The undead were my biggest threat until the final third of my career. I picked up command undead once I became a vindicator. Now I dont mind them much, and can readily heal them.
Beware of the Edgers, their prejudice against the use of necromancy is ardent and often mindless. I had the occassion where an eagle knight burnt up all of the foes rather than let me and a fellow Asmodean raise them as protectors. As a proper Pathfinder I have him a hand...Meridoc claps slowly and smiles.
As for talent, my mind is having a large group of trainees gives us the opportunity to send them to glory...or raise them as servants. Not everyone is worth 600 sails. Some are just a piece of obsidian.