Of Vile Darkness

[Rybaer]

Lord Torr Stormrider - human weretiger/rogue/fighter

*Torr's cat-nap is interrupted by the sound of heavy knocking downstairs. He figures that Rosalyn is probably sleeping, so he answers it himself. He takes the note, reads it quickly, then dismisses the messenger with a couple coins.*

What do you think this means? Torr idly asks Stormrider. His symbiont, however, remains silent.

*Torr returns upstairs to his chair in the sun and begins to nap again. When early evening rolls around, Rosayln wakes him for his dinner. Torr notes that she seems to have finally collected herself, but his own mind is distracted enough that he scarcely acknowledges her presence.*

*Following dinner, Torr dresses in darker, subdued evening attire. He grabs his ornamental dagger, slings a black satin cloak over his shoulders, and departs for the Guildhouse. He moves through the streets with grim purpose - his posture and size discouraging harassment. He skirts around the greasy pools of light cast by the laterns hung at street corners and occasionally glances behind him. For some reason, his instincts are telling him to be more alert tonight - and he always listens to those instincts.*

*Once at the Blind Woman, Torr will waste no time in going through the cursory motions to gain access to the basement where he will seek his contact.*

 

[Brother Shatterstone]

Loviana: Half-Nymph/Female (Rogue/Corruptor/Bondblade)

As Loviana gives a small reassuring she politely accepts his unneeded apology but she makes no move to take her hand from his, “My dear, as I said there’s no need to be sorry and you didn’t seem boyish or foolish at all and I have many of the same questions about Andeluvay.”

*Loviana does little to hide her disappointment at the need for his departure but her face goes quickly from pouty to a radiant smile as she ask to see her again.*

“I would be deeply honored to have more of your company Orshallan.” Her smile turns from radiant to hopeful as she continues, “Maybe tomorrow you can answer my questions and give me a tour of your fair city.”

 

[Paxus Asclepius]

Gwyn ap Fomor, Half-fiend Mortal Hunter

Gwyn strides into the Hydra's Glass, looking about him with a hungry stare that brings shudders to any who meet his eyes. Today he wears the skin of a young, fairly attractive blond man who was a paladin of Hieroneous before meeting a slow death at the bloody end of Harrowheart; he is recognizable only by the distinctive weapons he bears. He eyes several of the waitresses, smiling cruelly at the fear he sees.

If Wode is present, Gwyn goes to him immediately; if not, he bides the time by drinking 12-headed pyrohydras until someone realizes that his fiendish physiology is immune to the flames and the alcohol.

 

[linnorm]

Ralam Human Rogue 5 / Assassin 7

*Ralam reads through the message blearily, perking up by the end. , , ! As if I didn't have enough problems. He composes a brief reply at the writing desk.

Lord Rosewatcher,
As always, I am at your disposal. I will meet you at your earliest convenience.

After seeing the messenger off with a few coins, Ralam has Renna entertain and bathe him. Afterward he sits in front of the fireplace staring into the low flames, brooding over this new development.*

OOC: New policy works fine for me. I try not to go more than a day before responding, this last weekend just didn't work out that way.

 

[Isida Kep'Tukari]

*Loviana, Orshallan gives you a kiss on the back of your hand, a typical noble's gesture, though it does it with style and a hint of tenderness.*

"I would very much like to show you the city. I must make an inspection of several of the shrines, and stop by Honor's Shield, but in between that I can show you some of my favorite places," he says with a smile. "Until tomorrow then, Larissa." With that, he will depart.

~~~~

*Gwyn, after your third-and-a-half 12-headed pyrohydra the barkeeper comes over and puts a hand over your cup before you can light it. Some of the patrons have been staring at you in awe as you down glass after glass of the fiery liquid, and the more sober ones have been keeping count with a growing sense of wonder.*

"Three is the record for any normal man or dwarf, son. If you're special enough to stomach it, more power to you, but you'll be getting no more free drinks on me. Pay for one, you can finish the one you're on, and we'll be square," Farris says, giving you a hard stare. Since a 12-headed pyrohydra is twelve gold, giving away too many free ones could put a substantial dent in the bar's profits.

*Your audiance groans, and some gold and silver changes hands. It looks like someone was betting on you; if you were human, when Farris would cut you off, how many free drinks you'd get, the usual entertainment for this part of town. You can get plenty of other drinks for a more normal price:
* Dragon Hollow Beer, thick enough to stand a spoon in and fully as powerful as dwarven ale, though the taste leaves something to be desired, for 2 silver a mug.
* Broken Gold Ale, a dark, bitter draft, and the Hydra's most popular ale, for 1 silver a mug.
* Pisser's Beer, a weak, watery beer that's oddly refreshing, for 2 copper a mug
* Killraven's Blood, a rough red wine, for 4 silver a glass
* Lamp Oil, a weaker cousin to the Hydra spirits, this has a faint taste of limes, 6 silver a shot

*After a bit of waiting, and perhaps a meal of baked beans, broiled catfish, flatbread, and leeks (3 silver), you finally spot the half-orc guards moving into place that signifies Wode's arrival. Walking over there, the half-orcs give you a grunting aknowledgement and admit you to the curtained alcove. Wode is sitting there, dressed in its usual gray. A small, four-year-old human lad is curled up on the bench next to Wode, and a red-haired woman in the skimpy silks of a whore has her arm draped around its shoulder.*

"Gwyn, business needs to be attended to. Tell me, what do you know of the church of Heironeous here in Andeluvay?" it says in a dreary monotone.

~~~~

*Ralam, you also receive a message later that you're to meet in the current Assassin's Guildhall in the basement of the Blind Woman. When you arrive, the place is quite filled to capacity with those wishing to drug themselves into a stupor of euphoria. To your non-surprise you see Lord Torr there as well, and the both of you work your way downstairs. Past the drug dens you go into a second basement, and from there into a hidden passageway to the third basement. The room you end up in is paneled in warm wood, hung with fine tapestries depicting pastoral scenes, and lit with fine mage-lights. The person sitting on a stool at the far side of the wall is Yill, the second in command of the Assasssin's Guild.*

"We have problems Darkhand, Stormrider. The son is not acting like a man who lost his father should, he's not grief-ridden enough by half. Word shows that his Da the captain had a ring of curses, and the son says its been burned out. He marked someone with it, and he says he can use it to track down his father's killer. Now, you wouldn't be knowing anything about that, now would you? Because you forgot to leave any bloody live witnesses your perfect ruse of throwing suspicion on other guards is falling by the wayside, bitlike.

It seems the son is having the priests question the damned dolts' carcasses, and one remembers seeing a man in a guard's uniform. All well and good, but there was still enough of one whom Stormrider killed to say he was killed by a cat. Not so clean when the son's so keen. The most of the be fair baffled at what they have, but the son is putting together too many clues from the muddle you made, clues I know you two didn't leave. Clues he says he's getting from his father's death curse. Now say again, what you know of this," Yill demands in a low, harsh voice. His blue eyes, the sign of an elf born outside the shelter of the forest, doomed to bad luck, pierce through both of you.

 

[Rybaer]

*Torr tries not to wince when he hears how their job is starting to unravel. At the news that the captain had a ring of curses, he gives a sideways glance at Ralam.*

"I don't know anything about a curse," he says bluntly. "Can't say I was ever within ten feet of the guy."

 

[Paxus Asclepius]

Gwyn neither eats nor drinks after he is cut off; he takes pleasure in it only when showing off or terrorizing some unfortunate. He slowly savors the last glass, letting the flames run across his tongue and palate, as he waits.

"Gwyn, business needs to be attended to. Tell me, what do you know of the church of Heironeous here in Andeluvay?" it says in a dreary monotone.

"I know that they are meddlesome fools, but occasionally make decent toys. Why, this fine fellow (glancing downwards at the skin he wears) was once such. What do you need done, and to whom?"

 

[Brother Shatterstone]

Loviana: Half-Nymph/Female (Rogue/Corruptor/Bondblade)

*Loviana flashes another smile that turns to a complete blush of her face as Orshallan takes and kisses her hand in his noble gesture.*

Giving one more smile she replies eagerly, “Indeed, till tomorrow my high righteous.”

*If not to terribly late, and for one who needs not to rise early in the morning there is probably little chance of it, Loviana will opening take, and even invite anyone who watching over her, a nice walk though the temple and its grounds.*

 

[linnorm]

Ralam Human Rogue 5 / Assassin 7

*At news of the ring of curses Ralam's face contorts with rage and he starts swearing and pacing like a caged leopard.*

"The &*%^# &$^#%@ *$^#^@! He should have just &^$%&*^ died! &*#^%$% godlickers, and there *%^&$#^# services." Ralam stops and turns to Yill, rage still twisting his face, "I've had the curse taken care of. If the &%^$#@* bi&%$ did her job right it shouldn't be a problem. What kind of information has the kid gotten from it?"

 

[Isida Kep'Tukari]

*Loviana, you walk around the grounds of the church, accompanied by Arnold, the acolyte that helped Orshallan settle you in. He can tell you about the various places as you walk about. Not surprisingly, a great deal of the grounds are set up as various places to practice fighting. There's a jousting court, archery range, and several places for sword, mace, and flail practice. They even have thier own forge and extensive stables. Everything is set out very neat and orderly, and kept impeccably neat.*

*But at the far end of the grounds is a small garden, carefully planned out to have several contemplationg glades and the like. Elegant yellow roses bloom along the climbing roses around the wall, and golden snapdragons line the path. The place is lit by golden mage-fire set in wrought brass holders along the walls or on posts throughout the garden. Several places are heavily screened and would make for excellent secluded meeting places.*

*The entire church is surrounded by high walls, surmounted by spikes in the shape of lightning bolts. The church is very rich, and would make a thief's reputation if he were able to pull of a job in it. However, the church would clearly not book any of that tomfoolery.*

*The temple and the buildings attached to it are enormous, and hold hundreds of priests, acolytes, laymen and women, paladins, and other holy warriors. There's probably effectively a small army in here. Aside from you an Arnold, several other older priests wander the garden paths. In the training yards several of the more senior paladins are sparring, and even at this late hour the forge is going strong. Warriors in chainmail, carrying crossbows, spears, and short swords patrol the grounds.*

*You get some appreciative glances from some of the warriors, but they are fairly discreet about it. Arnold maintains a position one step behind you and to your right, a position of a bodyguard or chaparone, as to not give anyone the wrong idea.*

*In the garden, one of the old priests nods at you. He wears an enormous golden holy symbol, looking far too heavy for one of his age and frame, and a soft brown cassok.*

"Lovely evening young miss, lovely evening indeed," he says quietly, nodding and bobbing his head.

~~~~

"I know that they are meddlesome fools, but occasionally make decent toys. Why, this fine fellow (glancing downwards at the skin he wears) was once such. What do you need done, and to whom?"

"Do you think you can contain yourself long enough to extract some information from some low-ranking but terribly nosey priests? They have overheard some information we would very much like to get, but using magic on them to get it directly won't work, as they carry talismans to ward off most manipulative magics. But physically, they've vulnerable. Besides, such nosey priests wouldn't do very good in the long run, so they're better off dead," Wode says, and passes over a pieces of paper to you.

*The paper contains the names of two priests, Madrin Norfall and Farnov Weldaka.*

"They live in the temple, but have family here. Tomorrow they leave for a surprise weekend stay with their parents. Take them, extract what they know about one Baroness Wendare, and a rape attempt near Honor's Shield charity house. Price is two thousand, bonuses for any particularly interesting information you can get out of them. Make sure they're not lying either," Wode says with a languid wave.

~~~~

*Yill regards Ralam's tantrum with interest, though he made some small gesture that may have been him loosening a dagger from a hidden sheath. In his line of business getting killed at a routine meeting isn't out of the question. Then again, you both dying here is also a possibility, one you're both aware of. Though there are two of you and one of him, Yill didn't become the Second of the Grandmaster Assassins by picking daisies.*

"Hold quiet, Darkhand. Who got you curse-free? Could be making a difference as to what the son's finding. Be like he's already seen the uniform of a guard, but also a blade. He's seen the blade that brought his father to the earth, so he says. He says he'll find the blade, and through it, the murderer. And he be saying that the curse won't let the killer rid himself of the blade. 'Course he could be lying, but he's being far too keen, methinks," Yill says slowly, seemingly sitting relaxed in his chair.