Lwaxy
Cute but dangerous
The Walking Miracle's main bar room held 6 tables on the floor and several comfortable boots along the walls. Nev and Orlath were occupying the smallest, a 4 person booth, by themselves. It was next to the entrance, which led to an anteroom, and they had a good view around from here. Unfortunately, there was little to see. It was too early in the day for many folks to be here. A lone serving girl took care of orders while an unseen servant cleaned the tables and another the glasses behind the bar. Somewhere, a goat like laugh sounded. They suspected it was the satyr they had seen come in earlier with some humans.
"I have no idea how we are to find some sort of message here without any more information," the prince sighed and sipped his juice.
Nev's eyes darted around the room while he tried to make it less obvious that he was looking for something. "If we just knew where he sat."
"I don't think he would have written anything on the table or left a note in the place he was sitting," Orlath mused. "Really, that would be the first place anyone, including his killers, would look."
"I suppose you are right." Nev's view returned to the scrambled eggs in front of him and he resumed eating. "I reckon he used the smoke he created to leave the information anywhere. Probably some place only another spy could find, though. I think we are a total mismatch for this mission. This needs someone experienced in such stuff."
"Well, we just arrived," Orlath reminded his friend. "Maybe we'll get an idea eventually."
"Yeah, we could be coming here for all 3 meals for the next weeks, and maybe there is not even a message. We could waste our time here just to find out it is all just... oh my! I may just have found out where the message is!"
"How so?" Cleaning his plate, the other elf stared at the prince in confusion. "Did you just happen to see it by accident?"
"No! Smoke and mirrors! I was about to say we could find out it was all just smoke and mirrors."
"Yeah, so?" Gulping his own juice down, Nev looked even more confused.
"You didn't pay any attention in our Realm politics lessons, did you? Smoke and Mirrors is one of the most effective groups of spies we employ. Usually just inside the realm and neighboring countries, but that matters little as far as the message is concerned."
Nev made a face. "Realm politics is about the most boring subject we ever had. How could you even stay awake? Asides, I still don't see what you are getting at. Do you mean our unlucky spy was a member?"
"Probably not, but the smoke was part of the message, you see!" With a wide grin, the prince pointed at the large mirror behind the bar.
Now Nev's face lit up. "The message is on the mirror!"
"Most likely." Orlath already got up and made his way over to the bar, not even trying to appear uninterested. Nev sighed and followed.
The mirror looked like any other mirror, except that it was exceptionally well polished, thanks to the unseen servant. "He must have known anything non-magical would be cleaned off," Orlath said. He mumbled in a barely audible voice, and a moment later, a set of letters and numbers flashed in prominent pink on the mirror's surface, only visible to those able to read the arcane. "A simple magic missive."
Nev took out a scrap of paper and scribbled down the information quickly, then he checked if anyone had been watching them. But no one paid any attention. "Risky way to leave a secret message."
"He seemed to have no other choice." Orlath deleted the simple cantrip with another mumbled word. "Let's go get the package."
"What? But we were only supposed to deliver the location. Which is scrambled anyway. We have no idea what it means," Nev protested as he followed his friend to the anteroom where the half-orc, who was not allowed inside thanks to not being a magic user, was waiting for them.
"Oh but we do! Don't you recognize the address? It's Melford's Vault, where we store our own money we don't want to have on hand."
Dumbfounded, Nev looked at the information again and slapped his forehead. "I'm never good with remembering such details," he admitted.
Uthas was falling in behind them, shoving the last of what looked like a formerly large loaf of bread into his mouth. "So, found it? Where are we heading now?"
"Into adventure again." The prince laughed.
Meanwhile Flip had his own problems. His two contacts towered over him in the warehouse – why was it always a warehouse, the halfling wondered – while handing him his assignments. Flip checked over them and stopped himself from grimacing, if barely so. "Both in the same week?" he asked.
The tall and muscular human grinned down at him. "Is that a problem? Sure a spy of the Realm can handle the workload. You want in in both, you need to do the entry requirements for both at the same time."
Flip sighed. "I'm not a spy of the Realm, technically, I only take my jobs from someone in the Realm who may or may not be associated with any official position," he explained again. "And it is not like I could live off those assignments alone, not even with being a servant to a spoiled prince."
"But at least you got a clever cover," the tall elf woman chuckled. "And being a hero and all sure helps, too."
"You don't know who your contact in the Realms even is, am I right?" the human took a guess. "Realms people are more paranoid than the southern dwarfs."
Flip, despite knowing very well where his orders came from, shrugged with a sheepish grin. "I don't mind, as long as I get paid. Also, it probably means no one else in the Realm even knows I exist."
"Fair enough," the elf agreed. "Well, here's the deal, then. You have a week and a half to get these jobs done, in whatever way you like. You may even enlist help, as long as you don't mention either guild, of course."
"Of course," Flip nodded. The thefts he was supposed to perform, at first sight, looked like minor contract thefts, some of them were even things of no more than sentmental or implied value. He had little doubt those would be relatively easy if he timed it right. From the first glance, the assassinations were merely pay back kills from the guild and not actual contracts, but he would probably find one or two contracts there. "Do I need a 100% success rate?"
"No, of course, not." The human winked. "But the closer the better."
"Alright. Better get to work then. Where do I drop off the items?"
"Oh yes." The human handed him another scrap of paper. It described a particular alcove in the temple of the God of Scroundrels. He couldn't help but grin. The method was old and reliable, if not used that often anymore as it seemed less and less of his profession or related work fields cared about religion. "Works just fine."
"See ya, then," the elf waved and suddenly vanished into the shadows. The human shook his head at her dramatics, nodded to the halfling, and simply walked out the back door. Flip turned and took the front door, not worried about being followed. After all, this was supposed to be a safe house.
Getting the package from the vault had been no problem at all. It had been registered as a diplomatic vault, and after all, the prince was clearly eligible to pick it up. What had been more of a problem were the 5 thugs who had waylaid them just when they had left the vault. Once they had noticed, mostly thanks to the half-orc's skills with his new hammer, that they were vastly outmatched, they had run 'like rabbits from a fire,' as Uthas had called it. It was possible that someone had waited for them to get the package, but it was much more likely to be a coincidence. Mugging attempts happened frequently, and they had had to defend themselves in the past.
Still, they decided to return to Greytooth immediately. If the man would get angry at them showing up early, Orlath could just remind him who he was talking to. He might be the youngest of the royal children, but just because he would never sit on the throne (and all the better in his opinion) didn't mean his rank could be ignored.
As soon as they moved into the corridor the makeshift office was in, they could see something was wrong. In front of the door and covering the walls of the corridor was a black mark, much like a fireball had gone off. The air was smelling like ozone. Uthas started running immediately, not waiting for orders. The little skirmish earlier had made him eager for more. The fact that significant, deadly magic had been used not so long ago didn't change that. With a battle cry resembling the sound of a manticore in heat, he slammed the door open.
A werewolf and an orc stood posed over the bleeding, unconscious spymaster, the werewolf ready to tear Greytooth's throat. While both of them looked slightly burned and smelled like it, too, they were nowhere near as much damaged as the fireball would have suggested. Uthas threw his small axe while the hammer stayed in his hands. The aye sliced right through the fingers of the werewolf, who howled in panic and pain.
The orc turned and grinned. "Now now," he said. "If that isn't our person of interest himself."
In his rage, Uthas didn't hear him. If the orc had expected any sort of reaction or even hesitation of the barbarian's part, he was bitterly disappointed. He barely had time to bring his iron shield up and move back a little. For some reason, he seemed hesitant to strike at Uthas though. Confusion and frustration showed on his face. "Let's get out," the werewolf hissed while he tried to stop the bleeding in his finger stumps. "We can't harm him!" He leaned against the hard pressed orc, who could not really hold off Uthas any longer, and the two of them disappeared in a teleport flash. Uthas, who had just made contact with the already very dented shield, lost his balance and stumbled against the window, which broke and cut his face.
"Darn!" Nev jumped forward and checked the spymaster over. "Bleeding shoulder and a bad chest wound. Orlath?"
The prince nodded and knelt next to the injured man. He withdrew bloodoak bark powder, a string of horse hair and a piece of numbleaf from his component pouch, put the powder in the leaf, bound it tightly close with the hair and put it over the spymaster's body. Then he made a waving motion with both hands and shouted a single word in the old language.
The little packet flashed up in green and blue light, and little by little, the wounds of the injured man healed, leaving only outlines of where the wounds were supposed to be. "He'll still be out for days, I guess," Orlath said.
Nev nodded. "We need to clean this place out. Nothing to leave behind. Let me take care of that." Not too long after, with a bit of less flashy magic, Nev's shrink spell had reduced the size of books, papers and other items by enough to put it all in Uthas' ever present backpack. Uthas also shouldered the unconscious man and carried him off. "To our place," Nev decided. "No one would be bold enough to break in there, with all the enchantments in place to prevent it."
"No one would be bold enough to break in there, not with all the enchantments in place to prevent it," the barkeep laughed while he poured Flip another drink.
Flip nodded knowingly. "But maybe some are stupid enough. I can tell you, there have been quite a few idiots trying to break into my prince's home. Sometimes for treasure, sometimes just for a dare – a dare, can you believe that? Like a lock or a piece of clothing from the prince is some keepsake."
The keep grunted. "I suppose the Realm elves take their personality cult a bit too far."
"You can say that," Flip agreed and put his glass down to be filled up yet again. "The prince hates it, but some other nobles like it well enough."
The human behind the bar filled the glass again and then turned to two just arriving customers. Flip downed the new drink and wondered if the barkeep was right. He had no intention in wasting his time – and freedom – on entering a place with so many wards that he would alert half Freeport. But he had to get the job done somehow.
Leaning against the bar, Flip looked out of the window and across the street. Odingo's Manor sure looked imposing, and the guards in front of it looked like the no nonsense type. Even if he had a way to make himself invisible, it would probably not help. There would be guards against magic as well. And he had just heard that the place didn't even have direct sewer access like so many other houses.
Odingo had, so the barkeep had told him, made a lot of enemies over time. His dealings in blood magic and worse had offended quite a few people, and his exploits had gotten him in conflict with the law several times, but Lord Drac used to protect him. He would have been fine still, Flip guessed, but he should not have crossed the guilds.
A large delivery was approaching the gates to the manor. The guards only checked the delivering servants, not the contents of the crate. Flip wondered if that was a way in or if the contents were otherwise controlled. There was just one way to find out.
He paid his bill and then went to wait outside to get one of the delivery people alone. If he got him or her drunk enough, chances were he would be able to discern enough about anything that was going in and out in the next few days. And while he was working on that, he could prepare for one of his other jobs. It was time to visit the old city's iconic statue.
"I have no idea how we are to find some sort of message here without any more information," the prince sighed and sipped his juice.
Nev's eyes darted around the room while he tried to make it less obvious that he was looking for something. "If we just knew where he sat."
"I don't think he would have written anything on the table or left a note in the place he was sitting," Orlath mused. "Really, that would be the first place anyone, including his killers, would look."
"I suppose you are right." Nev's view returned to the scrambled eggs in front of him and he resumed eating. "I reckon he used the smoke he created to leave the information anywhere. Probably some place only another spy could find, though. I think we are a total mismatch for this mission. This needs someone experienced in such stuff."
"Well, we just arrived," Orlath reminded his friend. "Maybe we'll get an idea eventually."
"Yeah, we could be coming here for all 3 meals for the next weeks, and maybe there is not even a message. We could waste our time here just to find out it is all just... oh my! I may just have found out where the message is!"
"How so?" Cleaning his plate, the other elf stared at the prince in confusion. "Did you just happen to see it by accident?"
"No! Smoke and mirrors! I was about to say we could find out it was all just smoke and mirrors."
"Yeah, so?" Gulping his own juice down, Nev looked even more confused.
"You didn't pay any attention in our Realm politics lessons, did you? Smoke and Mirrors is one of the most effective groups of spies we employ. Usually just inside the realm and neighboring countries, but that matters little as far as the message is concerned."
Nev made a face. "Realm politics is about the most boring subject we ever had. How could you even stay awake? Asides, I still don't see what you are getting at. Do you mean our unlucky spy was a member?"
"Probably not, but the smoke was part of the message, you see!" With a wide grin, the prince pointed at the large mirror behind the bar.
Now Nev's face lit up. "The message is on the mirror!"
"Most likely." Orlath already got up and made his way over to the bar, not even trying to appear uninterested. Nev sighed and followed.
The mirror looked like any other mirror, except that it was exceptionally well polished, thanks to the unseen servant. "He must have known anything non-magical would be cleaned off," Orlath said. He mumbled in a barely audible voice, and a moment later, a set of letters and numbers flashed in prominent pink on the mirror's surface, only visible to those able to read the arcane. "A simple magic missive."
Nev took out a scrap of paper and scribbled down the information quickly, then he checked if anyone had been watching them. But no one paid any attention. "Risky way to leave a secret message."
"He seemed to have no other choice." Orlath deleted the simple cantrip with another mumbled word. "Let's go get the package."
"What? But we were only supposed to deliver the location. Which is scrambled anyway. We have no idea what it means," Nev protested as he followed his friend to the anteroom where the half-orc, who was not allowed inside thanks to not being a magic user, was waiting for them.
"Oh but we do! Don't you recognize the address? It's Melford's Vault, where we store our own money we don't want to have on hand."
Dumbfounded, Nev looked at the information again and slapped his forehead. "I'm never good with remembering such details," he admitted.
Uthas was falling in behind them, shoving the last of what looked like a formerly large loaf of bread into his mouth. "So, found it? Where are we heading now?"
"Into adventure again." The prince laughed.
Meanwhile Flip had his own problems. His two contacts towered over him in the warehouse – why was it always a warehouse, the halfling wondered – while handing him his assignments. Flip checked over them and stopped himself from grimacing, if barely so. "Both in the same week?" he asked.
The tall and muscular human grinned down at him. "Is that a problem? Sure a spy of the Realm can handle the workload. You want in in both, you need to do the entry requirements for both at the same time."
Flip sighed. "I'm not a spy of the Realm, technically, I only take my jobs from someone in the Realm who may or may not be associated with any official position," he explained again. "And it is not like I could live off those assignments alone, not even with being a servant to a spoiled prince."
"But at least you got a clever cover," the tall elf woman chuckled. "And being a hero and all sure helps, too."
"You don't know who your contact in the Realms even is, am I right?" the human took a guess. "Realms people are more paranoid than the southern dwarfs."
Flip, despite knowing very well where his orders came from, shrugged with a sheepish grin. "I don't mind, as long as I get paid. Also, it probably means no one else in the Realm even knows I exist."
"Fair enough," the elf agreed. "Well, here's the deal, then. You have a week and a half to get these jobs done, in whatever way you like. You may even enlist help, as long as you don't mention either guild, of course."
"Of course," Flip nodded. The thefts he was supposed to perform, at first sight, looked like minor contract thefts, some of them were even things of no more than sentmental or implied value. He had little doubt those would be relatively easy if he timed it right. From the first glance, the assassinations were merely pay back kills from the guild and not actual contracts, but he would probably find one or two contracts there. "Do I need a 100% success rate?"
"No, of course, not." The human winked. "But the closer the better."
"Alright. Better get to work then. Where do I drop off the items?"
"Oh yes." The human handed him another scrap of paper. It described a particular alcove in the temple of the God of Scroundrels. He couldn't help but grin. The method was old and reliable, if not used that often anymore as it seemed less and less of his profession or related work fields cared about religion. "Works just fine."
"See ya, then," the elf waved and suddenly vanished into the shadows. The human shook his head at her dramatics, nodded to the halfling, and simply walked out the back door. Flip turned and took the front door, not worried about being followed. After all, this was supposed to be a safe house.
Getting the package from the vault had been no problem at all. It had been registered as a diplomatic vault, and after all, the prince was clearly eligible to pick it up. What had been more of a problem were the 5 thugs who had waylaid them just when they had left the vault. Once they had noticed, mostly thanks to the half-orc's skills with his new hammer, that they were vastly outmatched, they had run 'like rabbits from a fire,' as Uthas had called it. It was possible that someone had waited for them to get the package, but it was much more likely to be a coincidence. Mugging attempts happened frequently, and they had had to defend themselves in the past.
Still, they decided to return to Greytooth immediately. If the man would get angry at them showing up early, Orlath could just remind him who he was talking to. He might be the youngest of the royal children, but just because he would never sit on the throne (and all the better in his opinion) didn't mean his rank could be ignored.
As soon as they moved into the corridor the makeshift office was in, they could see something was wrong. In front of the door and covering the walls of the corridor was a black mark, much like a fireball had gone off. The air was smelling like ozone. Uthas started running immediately, not waiting for orders. The little skirmish earlier had made him eager for more. The fact that significant, deadly magic had been used not so long ago didn't change that. With a battle cry resembling the sound of a manticore in heat, he slammed the door open.
A werewolf and an orc stood posed over the bleeding, unconscious spymaster, the werewolf ready to tear Greytooth's throat. While both of them looked slightly burned and smelled like it, too, they were nowhere near as much damaged as the fireball would have suggested. Uthas threw his small axe while the hammer stayed in his hands. The aye sliced right through the fingers of the werewolf, who howled in panic and pain.
The orc turned and grinned. "Now now," he said. "If that isn't our person of interest himself."
In his rage, Uthas didn't hear him. If the orc had expected any sort of reaction or even hesitation of the barbarian's part, he was bitterly disappointed. He barely had time to bring his iron shield up and move back a little. For some reason, he seemed hesitant to strike at Uthas though. Confusion and frustration showed on his face. "Let's get out," the werewolf hissed while he tried to stop the bleeding in his finger stumps. "We can't harm him!" He leaned against the hard pressed orc, who could not really hold off Uthas any longer, and the two of them disappeared in a teleport flash. Uthas, who had just made contact with the already very dented shield, lost his balance and stumbled against the window, which broke and cut his face.
"Darn!" Nev jumped forward and checked the spymaster over. "Bleeding shoulder and a bad chest wound. Orlath?"
The prince nodded and knelt next to the injured man. He withdrew bloodoak bark powder, a string of horse hair and a piece of numbleaf from his component pouch, put the powder in the leaf, bound it tightly close with the hair and put it over the spymaster's body. Then he made a waving motion with both hands and shouted a single word in the old language.
The little packet flashed up in green and blue light, and little by little, the wounds of the injured man healed, leaving only outlines of where the wounds were supposed to be. "He'll still be out for days, I guess," Orlath said.
Nev nodded. "We need to clean this place out. Nothing to leave behind. Let me take care of that." Not too long after, with a bit of less flashy magic, Nev's shrink spell had reduced the size of books, papers and other items by enough to put it all in Uthas' ever present backpack. Uthas also shouldered the unconscious man and carried him off. "To our place," Nev decided. "No one would be bold enough to break in there, with all the enchantments in place to prevent it."
"No one would be bold enough to break in there, not with all the enchantments in place to prevent it," the barkeep laughed while he poured Flip another drink.
Flip nodded knowingly. "But maybe some are stupid enough. I can tell you, there have been quite a few idiots trying to break into my prince's home. Sometimes for treasure, sometimes just for a dare – a dare, can you believe that? Like a lock or a piece of clothing from the prince is some keepsake."
The keep grunted. "I suppose the Realm elves take their personality cult a bit too far."
"You can say that," Flip agreed and put his glass down to be filled up yet again. "The prince hates it, but some other nobles like it well enough."
The human behind the bar filled the glass again and then turned to two just arriving customers. Flip downed the new drink and wondered if the barkeep was right. He had no intention in wasting his time – and freedom – on entering a place with so many wards that he would alert half Freeport. But he had to get the job done somehow.
Leaning against the bar, Flip looked out of the window and across the street. Odingo's Manor sure looked imposing, and the guards in front of it looked like the no nonsense type. Even if he had a way to make himself invisible, it would probably not help. There would be guards against magic as well. And he had just heard that the place didn't even have direct sewer access like so many other houses.
Odingo had, so the barkeep had told him, made a lot of enemies over time. His dealings in blood magic and worse had offended quite a few people, and his exploits had gotten him in conflict with the law several times, but Lord Drac used to protect him. He would have been fine still, Flip guessed, but he should not have crossed the guilds.
A large delivery was approaching the gates to the manor. The guards only checked the delivering servants, not the contents of the crate. Flip wondered if that was a way in or if the contents were otherwise controlled. There was just one way to find out.
He paid his bill and then went to wait outside to get one of the delivery people alone. If he got him or her drunk enough, chances were he would be able to discern enough about anything that was going in and out in the next few days. And while he was working on that, he could prepare for one of his other jobs. It was time to visit the old city's iconic statue.