Cool, the thread’s finally been moved. Thanks Aegis.
@craig: If you don’t mind, I’ll go ahead and nudge your character along.
@Aegis: I thank you for not rushing into the battle headlong. As I said, things are not what they seem.
@Xandax + Fas: I’ll let you two handle yourselves for now. I don’t need to put words in your mouths.
Go ahead and talk.
*****
Kierran reaches down for his weapon. His hands clutch air, and he suddenly remembers he’s unarmed. “Damn it,” he swears under his breath. Weaponless, he can only watch the ensuing battle from the safety of the shadows.
*****
In the blink of an eye the thieves rush in. A sinking feeling wells in Virdel’s stomach. These were trained assassins. The guard hadn’t a chance, and Virdel couldn’t do a damn thing about it. The battle would be over in seconds...
Suddenly, a great flash erupts from the center of the circle. The guard’s rusted halberd comes to life with a bright blue glow, shedding rust like old skin. Blinded by the flash, the thieves’s attacks miss their mark. Two hooded figures fall as they nick each other with their poisoned daggers. The rest quickly recover their wits, but the guard’s prowess is too much. Each assassin’s cut is met either with an adept block with the halberd shaft, or screeches uselessly on rusted plate. One knife does finds its mark, carving a deep cut where gauntlets meet suit. The guard’s hardly seems to notice. One by one the assassins fall to powerful, measured attacks. With the last attacker down, the guard cleans the magical blade of his halberd on a corpe’s shirt.
“That’ll teach those stinkin thieves to steer clear of us,” he mutters with a grim smile, his timid manner vanished. “No one messes with Calahan.”
With that, the one named Calahan starts to head down a nearby alley.
Even Virdel barely detects a shadow on the roof slipping away silently...
Kierran sees neither cloaked figure, only Calahan’s retreating form.
*****
Arriving in Athlatka, Thryn heads into the Copper Coronet to ponder his next move. Obviously, the message was important. Nicros must have been an agent of the Shadow Thieves, the powerful underworld organization within the city, and influential throughout Amn. The message was a letter written by Nicros to Renal, nicknamed the Bloodscalp for good reason. It was a list of every member of importance in the mercenary guild called the Black Helm. Definitely valuable information. What should he do with it?
Like it or not, Thryn knows he’s already been drawn into the layers of intrigue surrounding troubled Athlatka. Even if he keeps the message to himself, someone is bound to come looking for it...
Sitting down at the bar for a glass of wine, he notices two others talking nearby. One is decked in full plate, and looks to be quite the experienced warrior. The other looks a bit pale, and radiates youth, along with the inexperience and foolishness that inevitably accompanies it. Bored, Thryn begins listening to their conversation.
*****
“Sarak, do you know what you have done? You have just shattered any hope we had of gaining Magus’s support!” Corellan fumed.
Sarak remained silent. Best not to anger Corellan further.
“I assure you, Sarak, that such a mistake better not happen again. Or would you rather Lazal had your position? He’s proved far more competent than you, it seems to me.”
Sarak’s face boiled with anger. But one look from Corellan was enough to silence any protest.
“Get out, Sarak. I tire of dealing with you.”
“Yes sir,” Sarak managed to say, controlling his temper until he was a safe distance away from Corellan’s office.
*****
Meanwhile...Magus sleeps peacefully until dawn.
*****
[ 07-10-2001: Message edited by: Magus ]