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Message: <blockquote data-quote="DralonXitz" data-source="post: 3517689" data-attributes="member: 20083">Eberron: Requiem of Death    The moon shines bright over the Brelish metropolis of Sharn, the stars pulsating softly like a luminous spectrum of fireflies, dancing about an extravagant source of light.  Although quieter than the main hours of Sharn, the city is still bustling with life, as people return from late hours of work, enjoy in the risque nightlife, and generally enjoy the relative peace of their wealthy nation.    Things however are not as peaceful and tranquil in all sections of the city.  Within the wealthy district of Dragon Towers, the manors and palaces of esteemed Sharnian nobles echo with the sounds of opulent parties, balls, and heated discussions.  Deeper within the lively neighborhood stands the palacial estate of Thara Tavin, with the mark of the notorious House Tarkanan mark emblazoned above the ebony entranceway.      Inside Tavin's mansion, the dim lights and somber attitude attribute to the illicit demeanor and occupation of it's owners, as faint whispers and relays are delivered between darkly-clad shades within in.  Adorned with extravagant belongings alluding to the obvious windfall bequeathed to it's owners, the criminal den stands as the true archetype of the motto, “crime pays.”    Burrowed within the core of this criminal hive, sleeps the luxurious apartments of the Tarkanan authority, where esteemed Pugio's and other high-ranking blackguards reside during their off-time.  At the end of a long, decrepit hallway sits a medium sized room, adorned with gold and black rugs, lamps, and rich leather furniture, emboldened with the counterfeit House's arms.  Behind an enormous desk sits the personal receptionist of Cyrus Dormiano.  Guarding the Pugio's black entranceway like a sentinel, the beautiful raven-haired woman slowly writes down some notes upon a roll of parchment, when a cloaked man enters from the back office and slowly whispers to her a message, her nodding in approval.  Adjusting her glasses, she looks up at the four talented assassins sitting before her and softly utters, “Lord Dormiano shall receive you in a few minutes.  Until then, I leave you to yourselves...”, and gently pleating out her scarlet dress, she glides over to the office, leaving the four blades to themselves for the time being.</blockquote>

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