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<blockquote data-quote="drnuncheon" data-source="post: 772538" data-attributes="member: 96">Interludes and ConversationsCompiler's Note: Chronologically, this interlude would have occured several weeks ago.&nbsp; I was going to save some of the events in here for revelation in the main storyline, but it won't hurt anything to put them in here.&quot;Gaberk.&quot;&nbsp; The voice is soft, strained, as if its owner struggled to speak.&quot;Yes, my lord.&quot;&nbsp; Rough, this one, rough and deep.&quot;Why has he not visited?&nbsp; Why has he not written?&quot;&quot;I do not know, my lord.&nbsp; There have been no messengers with a reply from your nephew.&nbsp; Perhaps the captain we hired to take the missive forgot it, or lost it, or was lost himself.&quot;&quot;Send me Ivanior.&quot;&quot;As you wish, my lord.&quot;Footsteps, then silence, and then a third voice, soft as silk.&nbsp; &quot;My lord?&quot;&quot;I do not trust Gaberk. Take up your pen.&quot;<img src="http://www.io.com/~jeffj/b2sep.gif" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " data-size="" style="" /> Below the city, they gathered, moving through hidden ways and sluggish waters.&nbsp; They answered a call, unheard but felt, and it brought them together.&nbsp; Secret signs scratched on stone drew them inward, subtle scents led them on as they tasted the air with their tongues.At last, they came to rest, in a smooth-walled cavern beneath the streets above, its walls covered with murals of glory.&nbsp; There they met with the others, under the baleful gaze of their god and his prophet, and there they remained.Waiting.<img src="http://www.io.com/~jeffj/b2sep.gif" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " data-size="" style="" />&quot;Good work, Watch-Lieutenant Lukin.&nbsp; You and your team are a credit to the force.&quot;&nbsp; A pause. &quot;Still no sign of them?&quot;&quot;No, sir - and that's the last of the slave ships we've been able to find operating in the city.&quot;&quot;All right.&nbsp; I'm reassigning the Special Crimes Unit.&quot;&quot;Captain-&quot;&quot;No arguments.&nbsp; It's been four months, and still no sign of them.&nbsp; This is important, too.&quot;&quot;What is it?&quot;&quot;Grave robbers.&nbsp; Several tombs have been desecrated, and whoever is doing it has hit Watch End as well.&quot;&quot;Watch End? They're not doing it for the money...&quot;&quot;No. The bodies.&quot;<img src="http://www.io.com/~jeffj/b2sep.gif" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " data-size="" style="" /> He never seemed so old before, the young elf reflected.&nbsp; So old, so tired.&nbsp; This has been harder on him than even I realized.&nbsp; For a moment, he felt sympathy welling up inside him, but he forced it back.&nbsp; Concentrate on the job at hand.The older elf looked at him.&nbsp; &quot;A bow, Enialis?&nbsp; And a blade?&quot;&quot;My training has not made me forget my heritage altogether,&quot; he replied with a smile. &quot;And even though you will not tell me where we are bound, your actions tell me it is a place of great danger.&nbsp; We may be glad of them before this is through.&quot;The older elf nodded, turning back to the blades arrayed on his desk.&nbsp; Slowly, with infinite care, he slipped them into hidden sheaths until all had vanished. &quot;We will not be traveling as ourselves.&nbsp; It would be...impolitic of me to be seen on the streets of Highgate.&quot;&quot;Highgate?&quot;&quot;A necessary stop on our journey.&quot;&quot;And you want nobody following you.&quot;&quot;Just so.&quot; The older elf's hands floated over the collection of mementos that decorated his office, resting briefly on an ornately carved harp that seemed to sigh at his touch, then moving to a long, flat case almost hidden behind a shelf.&nbsp; Placing it on his desk, he opened it, withdrew the silver-handled cane within, and inspected the blade it contained. &quot;Tensin...&quot;The older elf looked up.&quot;We will find her.&quot;</blockquote>

[QUOTE="drnuncheon, post: 772538, member: 96"] [b]Interludes and Conversations[/b] [i][b]Compiler's Note[/b]: Chronologically, this interlude would have occured several weeks ago. I was going to save some of the events in here for revelation in the main storyline, but it won't hurt anything to put them in here.[/i] "Gaberk." The voice is soft, strained, as if its owner struggled to speak. "Yes, my lord." Rough, this one, rough and deep. "Why has he not visited? Why has he not written?" "I do not know, my lord. There have been no messengers with a reply from your nephew. Perhaps the captain we hired to take the missive forgot it, or lost it, or was lost himself." "Send me Ivanior." "As you wish, my lord." Footsteps, then silence, and then a third voice, soft as silk. "My lord?" "I do not trust Gaberk. Take up your pen." [img]http://www.io.com/~jeffj/b2sep.gif[/img] Below the city, they gathered, moving through hidden ways and sluggish waters. They answered a call, unheard but felt, and it brought them together. Secret signs scratched on stone drew them inward, subtle scents led them on as they tasted the air with their tongues. At last, they came to rest, in a smooth-walled cavern beneath the streets above, its walls covered with murals of glory. There they met with the others, under the baleful gaze of their god and his prophet, and there they remained. Waiting. [img]http://www.io.com/~jeffj/b2sep.gif[/img] "Good work, Watch-Lieutenant Lukin. You and your team are a credit to the force." A pause. "Still no sign of them?" "No, sir - and that's the last of the slave ships we've been able to find operating in the city." "All right. I'm reassigning the Special Crimes Unit." "Captain-" "No arguments. It's been four months, and still no sign of them. This is important, too." "What is it?" "Grave robbers. Several tombs have been desecrated, and whoever is doing it has hit Watch End as well." "Watch End? They're not doing it for the money..." "No. The bodies." [img]http://www.io.com/~jeffj/b2sep.gif[/img] [i]He never seemed so old before,[/i] the young elf reflected. [i]So old, so tired. This has been harder on him than even I realized.[/i] For a moment, he felt sympathy welling up inside him, but he forced it back. [i]Concentrate on the job at hand.[/i] The older elf looked at him. "A bow, Enialis? And a blade?" "My training has not made me forget my heritage altogether," he replied with a smile. "And even though you will not tell me where we are bound, your actions tell me it is a place of great danger. We may be glad of them before this is through." The older elf nodded, turning back to the blades arrayed on his desk. Slowly, with infinite care, he slipped them into hidden sheaths until all had vanished. "We will not be traveling as ourselves. It would be...impolitic of me to be seen on the streets of Highgate." "Highgate?" "A necessary stop on our journey." "And you want nobody following you." "Just so." The older elf's hands floated over the collection of mementos that decorated his office, resting briefly on an ornately carved harp that seemed to sigh at his touch, then moving to a long, flat case almost hidden behind a shelf. Placing it on his desk, he opened it, withdrew the silver-handled cane within, and inspected the blade it contained. "Tensin..." The older elf looked up. "We will find her." [/QUOTE]

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