Coils of Scuttlecove (Evil Campaign, Mature, no spoilers)

[Ipissimus]

Disclaimer: The following adventure is currently being played at my table. It is based in and around the Scuttlecove of Dungeon Magazine fame though altered to a great extent to accomodate an entirely new plot arc. The PCs are all of evil alignment and, as such, this game is quite a bit more mature (if it were a movie, I'd give it an R 18+ rating). The Anti-heroes that are the focus of the campaign have already demonstrated a flair for murder, betrayal, human sacrifice and other evil acts that some of you may find distasteful. If such is not your cup of tea, please stop reading now. If it is, enjoy.

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A black strom had settled over the smuggler's port more than a week ago and didn't show signs of letting up in the near future. The rain hissed in protest upon contact with the street as if nature itself rejected and recoiled from the cancerous blight that was Scuttlecove, home of pirates and torturers, den of drug lords and merchants of death as well as practitioners of horrifying magic and dark faith.

The relentless cloud, pounding rain and lightning that cracked the sky may have lent the town an appropriate ambiance but it did nothing to ease rowdy tempers or cool hot heads. Pirates, combining the worst aspects of hired thugs and sailors, could ill afford to escape the dock and seek their fortunes on the high seas and risk losing everything on the reefs that protected Scuttlecove from the authorities.

For Sheenestra Alovil, however, the storm meant good business. Standing cloaked under the eves of a nameless tavern, she allowed passersby a glimpse of her features while flashing each a 'come hither' look. Unlicenced prostitution was illegal, by the decree of the Mistress of Porphyry House, and yet few were the men of Scuttlecove who had the coin for more professional services. As such, the Mistress would often overlook those willing to risk more secretive services as long as the girls didn't advertize.

"Hey, kid," one of the burly ruffians finally bucked up the nerve to approach her, "you lost?"

"Not now," she purred, running her slender fingers up his filthy tunic, "come on, I need a big, strong, man like you to escort me..."

She led him into the convenient alleyway next to the tavern. No windows on either side, overlapping eves that kept the rain away and two sharp ninety degree turns in the center that, once past, would give the two of them complete privacy out of the view of both streets. He didn't waste any time once they were out of sight, shoving her up against the wall and grinding his lips against hers, hands probing under her cloak.

He was so busy that he didn't notice when her right hand emerged from her cloak holding a long, slender, poinard between her delicate fingers. A deft insertion of the impliment just under the ear, where the jaw meets the skull, allowed the blade easy access to the thug's brain stem. He died long before he hit the ground, fingers clutching painfully at her soft skin as he slid down her body.

She paused for a moment to kiss the gold heart locket around her neck before setting about searching the corpse of valuables. He didn't have much: A few coppers and a dagger were all he carried, but it'd be enough to feed her for a day or two. Business transaction completed, she pulled the body over to the partially dissolved grate that led to the town's sewers and dumped the corpse in. There were things down there that knew her and her work, things that waited for the remains of her victims and kindly disposed of the evidence of the crime. Sometimes she saw their eyes glowing red in the darkness or caught a whisper of eagerness at the prospective feast.

She didn't hear the intruder until he unsheathed his sword mere feet behind her back. "Stand slowly," he ordered, "and hold your hands out to your sides where I can see them."

Sheenestra did as she was bade to the letter. "What was this drunk to you? Companion? Brother? Or are you from Porphyry House?"

"This business is none of my affair," he sniffed, "however, your business, Sheenestra, is of my concern. Your future business, specifically."

"How do you know me?" She asked, trying to keep the surprise out of her voice.

"Madame Rythe of the Skindancers spoke highly of your abilities. I and those I represent seek to make you an offer of employment that I'm sure would be mutually beneficial to both parties."

Risking a glance over her shoulder, she took in what details she could glean from a moment's glance. His sword was black with some alchemical coating that seemed to absorb light. His garb was functional, dark brown, grey and black in both rough cloth and leather. His face was concealed by a deep hood, however. He took a short step out of her line of sight so she kept her head turned and graced him with a raised eyebrow in order to signal her disbelief. "Do you conduct all your business negotiations at the point of a longsword?"

"Every chance I get," he admitted, his grin obvious in his tone of voice. "You know the ways of the street as well as the ways of men and women. We need your skills. The pay is generous. More than you could earn in a lifetime of rolling lustful pirates... and I daresay more conducive to a long life."

"They pay my landlord and put food in my stomach," she shrugged, "what else does a lady need?"

"Lady?" He chuckled. "You're all of what, girl, fifteen?"

"SIXteen," she growled.

"My apologies," he said without meaning it, "KID. We both know you want more than just food in your stomach and a roof over your head. Everyone in this town wants more than that, what in the nine hells else is there to life?"

There was a long pause as both sides considered the situation. Sheenestra gnawed at the inside of her lip in indicision. If the man were playing straight with her, why act so mysteriously? If he saught her life, why not end it now while he had the upper hand? She took a deep breath to ease the tension before speaking again. "You know, for a man attempting to ask a lady for her favour, you are being awfully rude. It is customary to introduce yourself first... preferably without waving a sword about but let's stick to what diplomacy you are capable of, shall we?"

"Your tongue is as sharp as I was led to believe. My name's Jacith. Jacith Ravamaine."

"Pleased to meet you. May I turn around?"

"Sure, but stay in that spot."

Nodding, she turned gracefully on the spot, careful not to make any sudden moves. His face was barely visible in the shadows of the alleyway and the face was overgrown with stubble but it was a handsome face nonetheless. "Jacith. If you must, call me Shae. Do you intend to escort me across town at swordpoint? That might give some people the wrong idea."

"I don't have time to mess around. Are you interested in work or not?"

"What kind of work?"

"I'm a mercenary," jacith shrugged, "my employers pay me to get rid of inconveniences. I've signed up a croaker and a necromancer so far. What we really lack is subtlety and diplomacy, not every problem can be solved with a blade... and as you can see, that's what I'm best at. I can offer you one hundred gold pieces, that's in advance. Another hundred when the job's done and an equal share of the loot. In or out?"

One hundred gold pieces. More money in advance than she'd ever possessed in her entire lifetime. She didn't need long to consider the proposeal, greed won out over common sense. "I'm in."

 

[Nyayesh]

This is just awesome. I love it

 

[Ipissimus]

"Ladies first," Jacith gestured with his left hand while his right sheathed his sword. Shae noticed that he wore a small arsenal under his cloak; at least five daggers and a short sword at his right hip.

Smiling flirtaciously, she sashayed past, heading for the street. "Might I know where we're going or should I just wander around town until you point out the destination?"

"The Violated Ogre."

Nodding, she turned right when they got to the street, deftly navigating the twisted maze of streets formed by a complete lack of any form of planning for decades.Their route took them past the imposing Monestary of Dire hunger, lipless monks chanting bleak hymns in the small muddy square outside despite the rain. Further along, they passed the strange green sone building of Eralakni's Emporium, a large marketplace that primarily dealt in pirate goods. To the north, Shae spied the grizzly Plaza of Hanging Ruin, hoists atop large pillers where water-bloated corpses hung still bleeding from cruel barbed hooks. Ravens huddled underneath the bodies occasionally satisfying their hunger by pecking at the dlesh that was within easy reach.

Finally, they arrived at The Violated Ogre, the largest inn of Scuttlecove. Welcome warmth hit Shae's face as she stepped inside, though she could have done without the stench of beer, sweat and worse that permiated the air. The crowd was busy jeering at the show on stage as two naked Skindancers slowly cut the ogre with bejewled silver gauntlets fitted with scalpel-sharp knives at the fingertips and then licked away the thick black fluid that poured from the wounds. One of Kedward Bone's wizard henchmen stood watching nearby.

Shae knew the act, one not usually performed upon a creature that could regenerate. The black fluid seeping from the wounds rather than blood was a lower-grade varient of the drug called Agony, formed by the wizard's magic from the victim's pain. Agony was known to supernaturally induce please and increase the addict's beauty and poise, perfect for such sadomasocistic entertainment. Usually a relatively safe drug, occasionally the tainted lower-grade would cause one of the girls would die of pleasure during the act, a fact that only made the entertainment more popular.

Of course, that wouldn't be the end of the girl's story. The corpse would be preserved and sold to one of Kedward's friends, a Necromancer called remus Caldakar, reanimated and sold on to Porphyry House for use by those whose tastes ran toward the living dead. Shae had always refused to participate no matter the price offered. Her body, mind and soul were worth more to her intact.

What she couldn't abide was that most of the room was looking at the show rather than her. Pulling the chord that tied her cloak around her shoulders, the knot loosened and allowed the cloak to slip away. "Could you hold this for me please?" She asked Jacith coyly as he stepped through the door behind her.

He took the cloak without a word.

Underneath the garment she wore surprisingly little, considering the weather. High, soft, boots hugged the tender flesh of her legs, fully visible as her burgandy dress was slit to the hips on both sides. The rich cloth hugged her torso snugly but left her shoulders bare, though the cold had forced her to wear long black leather gloves. It was a trade-off between exposed skin and warmth but the effect of her beauty on the crowd was immediate. As she passed, heads turned. She felt the elation like butterflies in her stomach as men longed for her and women longed to kill her.

"What do you drink?" Jacith asked, making a concerted effort to keep his eyes on her face. Shae was impressed at his willpower.

"Wine, please." She smiled. "So which of these louts are your compatriots?"

He nodded towards the private rooms. "We're out the back. Come on, the drinks will be brought there."

Shae was surprised when Jacith took the lead. His exposed back was a tempting target, just for sneaking up on her earlier, but again greed and perhaps no small ammount of curiosity stayed her hand. She was so deep in thought that the sudden pain that shot up her spine took her by surprise, making her hop up slightly to her toes and letting out a yelp.

The men behind her yelped as she turned slowly towards them, eyes smouldering with something the unobservant might take for as lust. "Who pinched me?"

They weren't observant. In the midst of masculine laughter, the group pushed one of their number toward her. "Aye," the bearded lout stumbled drunkenly forward, "that'd be me, lass."

She favored him with a smile, stepping forward so that she could run her left hand over his chest and shoulder. His friends cheered and whooped, egging the impromptu show on. Leaning foward up on the tips of her toes, she whispered into his ear. "Now, hold very, very still for me, lover."

Pulling back, she considered the man's red face and leering grin for a moment before punching the heel of her palm up into his nose, spearing the cartilage into his brain. He stood still for a moment, blood pouring from his nose, before plummeting backwards over the table, scattering mugs and spraying the contents over the patrons. The crowd roared with laughter as Shae gave them a coy wink and strutted away, the crowd pulling themselves out of her path.

"Do you kill every man that finds you attractive?" Jacith inquired testily.

She thought about it for a moment. "One or two are still alive. Could you get the door for me, please?"

Bowing slightly, he opened the door for her and allowed her to enter first with trained aplomb. Shae kept that little tidbit in the back of her mind, Jacith knew the ways of the cultured gentleman even if he pretended otherwise. The room on the other side of the door was dark and smoky. Light from the fireplace flickered over three figures, two at the large round wooden table in the center of the room, one peering out into the rain through a gap in the brickwork.

On Shae's left sat a large, bulky, man in enameled black platemail embossed with the symbol of a fist clutching six red arrows. Leaning on his chair was a massive flail easily as tall as he was standing. His face, however, was a mass of scar tissue; teeth visible through a wound that had healed open through his left cheek.

On the right, across the table, sat a gaunt man in a hooded purple and black robe with a silver pendant in the shape of an eye hanging around his neck. His skin was pale, his eyes sunken and his cheeks sallow. His features were angular, skin stretched out over the bone structure underneath. He had no drink in front of him and he kept his hands folded inside his long sleeves.

The third man was much cleaner and well groomed than the other two, dressed in satin and silks. He sported a thick black handlebar moustache, long hair and bushy eyebrows over hawklike features.

"Shae," Jacith introduced her after he closed the door, "these are our compatriots, Dukar of the church of Hextor and Zaladi, until recently an apprentice of the Black Acadamy. The last man is my employer, Baron Rikelander."

The Baron turned and bowed gracefully. "Please, gentlemen, it is rude to sit while a lady still stands."

"Let me know when one comes," Dukar growled.

"Dukar," Jacith reproached calmly with the one word.

"That's all right, Baron, Jacith," Shae smiled, gliding over to offer her arm to the Baron, "no need to inconvenience yourselves on my account. I too would like to get down to the business at hand and fulfil my aching curiosity."

Smiling, the Baron led her arm in arm to the table before drawing her chair out for her and taking a seat beside her next to Zaladi. Jacith slid into the chair on the other side between Shae and Dukar, giving the priest a dark glance. "The Baron has asked me to find three of the most capable mercenaries in Scuttlecove," Jacith explained, "each of you was picked for your particular skills. Dukar for both his ability to cause and repair damage, though he seems to enjoy causing destruction far more than he does healing it. We have fought together in the past and I can vouch for his skills if not his manners. Zaladi knows intimately the ways dark and mystical, though I cannot vouch for him personally, he does come recommended by people that I have good cause to trust in their judgement."

"What people?" The Baron asked suspiciously.

"Zeladi here served on the pirate vessal Tarrantula," Jacith informed, "I know the captain."

"And the female?" Dukar sneered.

The Baron frowned but Shae put a staying hand on his wrist. "Do you have a problem with women, priest?"

Dukar leant forward in his chair, showing off his scars in an attempt at intimidation. "I hate the weak and the useless. When the Paladins razed my temple, they cast me into the firepit when I refused to recant my religion. The fires burnt away my face and much of my body and so I no longer have a use for women. Some men might mourn that loss but I find myself imbued with a clarity of purpose and focus on my goals that most are unable to achieve through the miasma of such petty distractions. The only practical application of females is procreation and once I shuffle off my mortality I will feel no need to spread my seed either. Women are weak, illogical, capricious and simple-minded, fit only to be sacrificed for the glory of Hextor."

Leaning forward to match Dukar, Shae rested her delicate chin in her hands and simply smiled without saying a word.

Jacith coughed. "Shae comes to us recommended as a cutpurse in good standing with the Guild as well as a member of the Skindancer Academy. She is particularly well known amongst certain circles for the ability to kill a man with her bare hands."

Some of the certainty bled from Dukar's eyes while the pleasant smile on Shae's face never faltered. Slowly, a smile split the scarred man's face. "Perhaps she does have another use after all."

"A eunoch," Shae accused, "and a coward."

He shrugged off the insults. "The loss of my skin taught me to value it above all else. Anything else is insanity."

"As I said," Jacith turned to the Baron again, "Dukar's manners are attrocious but there's no other man I'd have at my shoulder in a fight."

Shae sat back in her chair and absently pulled her red braids over one shoulder, wrinkling her nose. "Can anyone else smell that?"

Zeladi coughed in embarassment. "That would be me. You just can't get the stench of my trade out of your clothes between carcasses and chemicals, I know it is one of the more detestible aromas of the world."

"I hired Shae to grease the wheels in places that your professions would usually have us killed on sight," Jacith told the other two, "now, if you'll all be quiet, the Baron has a business proposeal that I believe could be quite lucrative. Baron, if you please."

Nodding, the Baron stood, resting his hands on his wide leather belt. "The situation that I currently find myself in requires some explaination on my part. I was born in the city of Leshass on the other side of this island and my family counted a large part of the tamed north coast as part of their holdings. When I was old enough, my father sent me to war in his stead and I served this Kingdom alongside Jacith for several years. When I returned my father was dead and my elder brother stood to inherit our father's lands. My elder brother was a scholar and prone to bouts of sickness that prevented him serving in the war and... I admit, that he would inherit everything my father owned while I would depend upon him for food and shelter rankled my pride.

I was almost resolved to sign on with the King's Navy when I was approached by a childhood friend who claimed to have a better proposition in mind. He had entered the merchant's guild and earned enough money for himself to construct his own palace with influence stretched across the globe and his fingers in too many pies to reliably count. He claimed that his success was due in no small ammount to the intervention of a society known as the Seventh Coil..."

The Baron paused, taking a deep breath to steady himself and a sip of ale to calm his nerves. "He also claimed that this society knew of myself from my exploits during the war and believed me to be a talented general worthy of induction into the society. He promised me wealth, lands, power and most of all the respect that I felt was my manifest destiny. I agreed and I was inducted into the society and given this."

He produced a ring in the shape of a silver serpent eating its own tail then pocketed it again quickly as if he were afraid that hidden eyes would glimpse it.

"And that was the beginning," he continued, "a few days later my brother contracted an illness that neither priests nor doctors could cure. He died in agonizing pain and I inherited the family lands. I convinced myself that it was just a stroke of luck, some unfathomable trick of circumstance or perhaps the will of the Gods. In truth, I didn't want to believe that I was somehow responsible. Over the years, I forged a great many financial and political alliances with the help of the Seventh Coil, amassing such power and wealth that I had never even dreamed of possessing. In return the Seventh Coil send messengers asking for minor favors and boons, a pittance compared to what I was recieving in return. Then their requests became larger and yet the returns for what I had to do were substantially greater. It was in this way that I slowly sold my soul to them piece by piece. When my childhood friend failed in one of his tasks, they had me execute him. I did it without a moment's hesitation.

After that, I found that nothing was beyond me. Murder, torture, piracy... I have committed many crimes, chief among them being High Treason. Since then my main contact with the Seventh Coil has been through my best friend's widow as she inherited his businesses following his death. Recently she admitted to me that she has a contact to can assure anyone's death through mysterious and incureable illness. Though it is trivial, I find that I do so balk at the notion that my brother was murdered by poison and my heart burns with the need for revenge. I wish to bring down the Seventh Coil and take its power for my own. Those that are willing to risk all to aid my quest will be given power and wealth beyond measure. Any who choose against me will be destroyed."

 

[Quartz]

This could be interesting.

 

[Ipissimus]

Dukar shrugged. "So where do we come in?"

"I need agents," the Baron said, "people who can investigate and root out the parts of the Seventh Coil that I myself am not privy to. It is my belief that the Seventh Coil has headquarters in most of the major cities across the land and counts many of the wealthy among their members. As important as I now believe myself to be in their affairs, even I have yet to meet the inner circle. If the Seventh Coil is to be defeated, their leaders must be uncovered and eliminated. That will be your job."

"I'm sorry but I don't buy it," the priest growled, "why tell us? Any one of us could go to the Seventh Coil and rat you out for a golden handshake."

"Because I know their methods," the Baron retorted, "your golden handshake would be coated with deadly contact poison. We have no reason to trust each other, I have no illusions on that score. You must understand, however, the nature of the enemy we face and the scope of the rewards I am prepared to offer. In addition, Dukar, I warn you not to take me lightly. If any one of you even thinks about betraying my cause you will be disposed of without mercy. I will allow nothing to come between me and my revenge. Nothing."

They were all silent for a long time as the Baron glared down at Dukar. The priest gave him a respectful nod. "I'm in."

Zaladi shrugged. "All I'm interested in is the money. I'm in."

All eyes turned to Shae. She smiled. "Sounds like fun. Why not? I'm more concerned with our first move."

"Very well," the Baron nodded, sitting back down. "I have three leads for you to follow up. I must stress secrecy in all aspects of your dealings. You will have my backing when I am able to act but I cannot jeopardize my standing with the Seventh Coil or all will be undone. Now, firstly I know of a secret Seventh Coil storehouse near the village of Haven on the east coast of the island. Though it has fallen into disuse, a through search of the remaining contents could reveal further leads as to the nature of the organization. Secondly, they've been urging me to make ovatures to the elven settlements near the mountains. Last of all, my own home town is currently being terrorized by a madman who kidnaps people off the street, murders them and leaves the bodies for the authorities to find in the morning. I believe that this isn't the work of a madman, his targets are very precisely selected from those who somehow stand to interfere with Seventh Coil dealings. In a few weeks a patsy will be caught and promptly hanged in a wave of public discontent and thw whole thing will blow over as they have planned."

"So we leave scuttlecove," Jacith said, "push north towards Haven, see what we can find there, then cut across country through Elven territory towards Leshass. We can pose as mercenaries hired to patrol the trade route by the Baron, which also gives us a good excuse to do a little snooping if the need arises. Once we arrive, we can report to the Baron and he can hire us again to track down this serial killer. Anyone have another idea?"

Dukar and Zelandi shook their heads. Shae, however, nodded. "Two things, really, not related to the plan. Firstly, if you don't mind me asking Baron, are you married?"

He shook his head. "No."

"This is no time to be looking for a date, girl!" Gukar protested.

"Actually, I think it's a very relevant question. How well do you know your friend's widow?"

"Milady," the Baron scowled, "are you suggesting some from of impropriety on my part?"

"No, I was wondering if she'd made any ovatures to you."

"i don't see how that could be relevant," The Baron answered evasively.

"Consider the situation from the other side's point of view," Shae explained, "this woman sounds to me like she is most eligible. Wealthy now and, if your body language is anything to go by my dear Baron, a beauty. Also, no doubt, a confidant of yours seeing as how you have intimated a close working relationship within this secret society."

"I have not told her of my plans, if that is what you're getting at, and I wish to keep her out of it if at all possible."

"has she made any ovatures of marriage to you?"

The thought gave him pause. "She has been... solicitous of my health where most others are cold to me. Nothing improper, however, it would be churlish of me in the extreme to take advantage of the widow of the man who was both my friend and one that I had executed. In addition, she has turned down several prospective suitors on the grounds that she is not yet over her beloved husband."

"Oh, dear," Shae sighed, "men can be such clots. Baron, I would be willing to place any bet you care to name that if you were to make any sort of advances upon her person, she would be all too willing to go along with them. She is an agent of the Seventh Coil, marriage to you would give the society another hold over you as well as a more valuable agent... or perhaps agents if she succeeds in begetting a child by you."

The Baron stared at her, the colour slowly draining out of his face.

Dukar chuckled. "This is what I mean. Love is a weakness."

"By the Goddess, I didn't see it. Twice blind and stupid!" The Baron growled at himself, stamping his foot.

"If I might make a suggestion," Shae smiled disarmingly.

"I'm all ears, milady."

"Go along with it."

The Baron looked shocked.

"What?" Shae shrugged. "You're unmarried, and might I suggest that if you were your wife might already have been stricken with the same mysterious illness that took your brother if you had been married. She is a wealthy and beautiful widow. Your position and prestiege would expand greatly with your union and as such no-one will dare voice any moral objections. And I daresay if they do, the Seventh Coil will silence them before you have time for second thoughts. Respond to her advances, spend time with her, woo her and get engaged after a properly discreet period of time. Let them think you're falling into line with their plans, give them no reason to doubt your loyalty. As they say, keep your friends close and your enemies closer."

"Hmmm," the Baron mused, scratching his chin, "we'll see. I should be back in time for the ball, assuming this rain lets up, if I ask her to the dance and she agrees, we'll play the game and see who comes out on top, figuratively speaking. Your second point?"

"Yes, when do we get our money?"

Zeladi smiled. "Good question."

"Jacith has your one hundred gold piece advance," the Baron answered, "the rest plus a bonus dependant on your performance awaits you in Lashess. Now, if that is all, I'll leave you all to your bussiness."

Jacith and Shae stood with the Baron and bowed before he left. Sitting back down, Jacith glared at Dukar and Zeladi. "You could both use some culture. Our employer is a man of breeding, he respects those who know the proper courtesies."

"I bow to no man," Dukar snarled.

"Honestly," Zeladi waved away the complaint, "I couldn't care less what he thinks of me. I know seven baleful magics that could tear the man apart with a snap of my fingers. His claims of power by indefineable birthright are laughable at best."

"Dear gods," Shae sighed, "of all the evils in the world, I had to go an align myself with a republican."

The necromancer raised his eyebrow. "You have a problem with the concept of every man and woman being free and equal in society?"

"By Hextor, I damn well do!" Dukar exclaimed.

Shae winced. "As much as I hate to agree with the priest, I think that no matter what sort of label you put on a civilization, there will always be those that are more equal than others. It's human nature to form a pecking order with the strong rising to the top. Monarchy, democracy, theocracy, magocracy, it just doesn't matter one whit."

"Enough," Jacith interrupted the necromancer before he could retort, "we leave in the morning. I'll have your pay divided up by then. We all have a room here tonight and fresh horses in the stables, I'll expect to see you in the tavern at dawn."

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Shae was busy combing her hair later that night when she heard some noises in the hallway. She'd spent the rest of the day packing for the road, paying off her landlord and transfering her belongings into a locker at the Rustry Shunt, the only place in town you could trust to return your things in the same condition you gave them.

Treading lightly to the door, she opened it a crack to find Zeladi hovering over one of the barmaids, entrapping her against the wall. She was young but experienced and she was having none of the necromancer's advances.

"...even if I were dead, the answer would still be no. Can't you get it through your thick skull?"

He smiled lewdly. "I think I can change your mind." His voice lowered but his next words reverberated through Shae's bones despite the fact that they were barely audible. The barmaid swayed on her heels for a moment as her expression changed from one of blatant disgust to open admiration. Absently, Shae clutched her locket for reassurance as Zeladi pulled her into a kiss that she eagerly returned.

Stepping into the doorway, Shae raised her voice. "How long does it last?"

Pausing, Zeladi broke away from the kiss to glance at Shae. Turning back to the barmaid, he patted her backside. "Why don't you go into my room, I'll be there in a moment."

She nodded blankly, still breathing hard from the kiss, and slipped through the door to his room, starting to undress even before the door was closed. "In answer to your question," the necromancer grinned like a schoolboy, all too pleased with himself, "a few hours. More than I need."

"And what happens when it wears off?"

He shrugged. "What can she do? Complain that she acted like a slut? That I used foul magics to seduce her? Do you believe that anyone around here will think that she's anything but a whore I refused to pay?"

Shae resisted the urge to rip out his throat with her teeth. Beckoning him closer, she made her next statement a whisper. "Zeladi. If you ever try to do that to me, I will stick burning needles in your eyes, cut off your hands and rip out your tongue. What remains of you will be sold as a vessel for what men who have needs for other men to satisfy themselves upon. Are we clear?"

Smirking, Zeladi nodded. "Crystal. See you in the morning."

 

[carborundum]

Brilliant! I love the atmosphere and the naughty characters - and Scuttlecove is the business too.

/hits thread subscription button

 

[Ipissimus]

Shae was the last to arrive outside the stables. She found her three new compatriots waiting for her already mounted and eager to set off. It had taken most of the night and some of the morning to choose proper attire. In the end, she'd settled for her tight leather pants tucked into soft boots, a corcet and lacy long-sleeved white tunic with red highlights completed the ensemble and her cloak warded off the morning drizzle. Strapped to her hip was a plain and functional rapier, though she had several other blades hidden about her person that she much preferred to the long blade.

Jacith spurred his horse next to hers as she loaded her mount. "Being late may be a woman's perogative, my dear, but this is a professional operation..."

"I'm not late," Shae retorted, "and you can shove that 'my dear' up your backside, Jacith." Mounting the horse with smooth and practiced grace she ignored the evil eye their 'fearless leader' was giving her. "Well, gentlemen, shall we move on?"

Nodding curtly, Jacith signaled the other two to move out with a wave of his hand.

They travelled north through the town, past the Arena, to exit the north gate. To their right, several bridges crossed the river and entered the slums where no-one in their right mind ventured willingly. The Arena had been closed due to the rain though several Monks of Dire hunger still patrolled and cared for the slaves. Other than them, however, the streets were deserted.

"We're being followed," Shae whispered.

"I see him," Jacith replied, "about thirty yards back, blue lips, tattered finery."

"Sticks out like a sore thumb," Dukar chuckled. "Blue lips, you say? He's a Sannish addict. What business would someone like Kedward Bone have with us?"

Jacith gave him a sharp look. "What makes you think he's involved?"

Dukar shrugged. "There's his tower over there. Everyone knows he uses the hoplessly addicted as patsys and minions and he's one of the few in Scuttlecove the Holy Triad allow a modicum of real power."

"Seventh Coil?" Shae asked the unspoken question.

"No," Zeladi shivered. "Kedward Bone has no need for shadowy networks, he practically controls the drug trade in the south seas."

"You've met the man?" Jacith pressed.

"Yes," the necromancer visually shivered, "and it's not an aquaintance I'd like to reknew. Friends, my stock in trade involves dark magic, unholy pacts and raising the dead. Kedward Bone counted my master as a friend and ally and yet our meetings with him were more harrowing than my time as a pirate. Trust me, he would balk at being lower than anyone else in any heirarchy, he is manifestly unsuited by temperment to be anything but dominant in any relationship you could concieve. Waiting upon the whims of hidden masters would be unthinkable."

 

[wolff96]

I'm really enjoying this story hour and the characterization so far. It's dark and somewhat vile, I admit, but it's got such a great feel to it.

I'm going to have to keep following this one.

 

[Rastfar]

I am enjoying the feel of the game thus far, and am curious to see how it plays out. I have always wondered about the viability of a long-term 'evil' campaign. I'm glad I got in on this from the start.

Curiously, Shae seems to be the central character thus far. At least what we are given is her POV. Is the author her player?

Thanks for writing this up.

 

[Nyayesh]

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