Athkathla II

[Brink]

@All-Anything's fine with me (I'll post my part later today )

[Aegis]

"Come now, Virdel," Magus responded, causing the dark elf to take a step back defensively. "I see pictures of places and people, but they are unfamiliar to me. I need to know where you stand before I trust you with any amount of trust at all." He left the threat of mentally probing the dark elf unspoken, though it undoubtedly hung openly in the warrior's mind. Magus would never really take such action, but he doubted the elf knew this. It was important the dark elf came even with him on his won. "Trust begets trust."

Rail awaited the dark elf's response, though he kept his eye warily on the young newcomer in the doorway. The one Void had intercepted.

Still rather peturbed about what had just happened, Virdel looked from Rail, then to Magus who was waiting patiently for Virdel to answer. He had no desire to side with any of the factions, especially the Cowled Wizards. The thought of allying with Magus only lead him to believe that he was one of the cowled wizards himself. Although, their was something about this man, this Magus, that struck Virdel as trustworthy.

"You have yourself an ally. A powerful one at that. I have friends in the city that may help us, if you wish." Virdel stopped for a moment, and gathered his thoughts, deciding on the best course of action. "I will keep their identities secret for now, by I may be able to call on their aid, if need be."

Magus's lips curled up in a smile, seeing he had gained the support of the Drow. No easy task, and he knew it. He nodded in satisfaction, giving Void a small psionic message, informing him of what just took place. "I am glad you have choosen to follow my lead" began Magus. "You will soon see that it was not the wrong choice. Go now, and take our new-comer with you, I will find both you in a days time, along with Faisal, Xandax, and Thryn. From there, we will discuss the future of this city."

Virdel said nothing. He glanced once more to Rail, still sitting on the windowsell, a large grin on his face. He then turned to the door, noticing Kierran for the first time. A small scowl could be seen on his face when he saw whom he told to go with. He shook his head, believing that argueing with the Mage would futile. He walked to the door, and right past Kierran, not even acknowledging him.

He made his way down the steps, back to the ground level. As he made his way out of the Slums district, he heard the frantic pattering of feet as Kierran tried to catch up to him. The Ranger stood beside him momentarly, before even speaking.

"I'm Kierran. That Hakeashar told me I was to go with you." His breathing was slightly taxed, but it returned with ease. Virdel just kept walking, still ignoreing the man. Kierran followed the Drow, a few paces behind. He was in no mood to disobey a wizard of that strength, so he followed Magus's orders...

[Magus]

@Aegis+Brink: Virdel and Kierran. What a mismatched pair

*****

As Virdel finally leaves, Magus sighs deeply, brushing a strand of his long blonde hair from his face, a gesture that looks peculiarly elven. It had begun. Once he had a better idea what was going on, he could decide what to do. Simply destroying all three factions, if even possible, would be no better than remaining idle. Either way, chaos and horrible bloodshed would follow. He could support one of them. Or he could just weaken them. Or maybe a combination of the two.

But Amn had more than internal problems. The surrounding nations were showing alarming signs of activity. To the south, Tethyr, stable for the moment under its current ruler, had recently launched another major raid into the Forests of Tethyr, home of the elves. The fighting threatened to spill over into Amn. If Amn didn’t put up a convincing show of force, the warlike Tethyrians might think it ripe for the plucking, and lauch a full-scale invasion.

Cormyr in the northeast was also watching with interest, always eager to expand its borders and spread its “benevolent” influence. A little infighting would be all the excuse it needed to intervene, invading on the pretense of settling the conflict.

Then there was always Baldur’s Gate and its suburbs to the north. No threat to Amn normally, a civil war would provide the chance Baldur’s Gate needed to make a land grab on Amn’s northern territories.

Amn was a sick nation, indeed. Whatever he did, he had to do it quick. Perhaps the friends Virdel had spoken of could prove useful allies.

-You mean Virdel’s ranger friends?- whispers Void mischievously.

-You didn’t...-

-Well, it wasn’t my intention- Void breathes indignantly. –I came across it while I was skimming his mind for hostile intentions. Seems he thinks highly and often of a certain person there.- His tone refuses admonishment.

Magus shakes his head. But what’s done is done...

At the sight of Rail, Magus forcefully brings himself from his thoughts. He had kept his old friend waiting long enough.

“Rail, I would also ask a task of you. Actually, I think you’ll rather enjoy it.” Magus says, letting a smile show on his face. He could relax a bit for now.

The assassin raises his brows, waiting for Magus to continue.

“I want you to find Lazal and shadow him, noting his every move and word. Stealth is critical. I don’t want you trying to confront him just yet. I’m afraid it would be a battle you could not win, old friend. I fear his power is too great. For now, we must watch and bide our time. Later, perhaps after we find a chink in his armor, we can face him on our own terms.”

Magus gazes intently at the assassin, waiting for his response.

[Rail]

"All mages think they're invulnerable. You should see some of the looks and comments I get when my blade...", Rail stopped with his hand on his sword hilt, knowing Magus' distaste for the assassin's calculated bloodshed.

But Magus already got the picture, and frowned. "No confrontations. Not yet, my friend."

Rail nodded, dark acts eating at the back of his mind, but he kept them carefully in check. Like he always did. "Relax, I will watch him for weeks, if need be. I always do, before I strike. Patience is far stronger than force."

This seemed to satisfy the mage, who grimaced but moved on to other things. "What do you make of them?"

Rail frowned. "A tentative alliance, at best. They seem able to handle themselves with a blade, alright, but they are new to Amn. Athkatla has a way of weeding out the weak. Time will tell."

"They will be fine," Magus began, smiling and shaking his head to himself. "They possess an inner strength, a will. They will be strong allies if we can gain their trust."

"Not an easy thing, if you're a mage, is it?" Rail leaned back in the windowsill until shadow covered much of his face. His tone was half joking, half serious.

No more so if you're a thief, I'd suppose. Void chimed in hauntingly.

Rail smiled, though darkness still seemed to cling to his eyes. He stood up and walked over to the desk, casually examining the sparce furnishings. "So, we finish with the Crown, and move on to this?" He looked up at his friend in confusion. "I have truly been gone much of the time, but I see no side worth supporting, here."

"Yes, that's why I need information." Magus was staring at the door Virdel and Kierran had exited just minutes before. "They will manage the Shadow Thieves and the Black Helm. I will worry about the Cowled Wizards." Glancing over at the frowning assassin, Magus added, "You would get in far too much trouble investigating those fools." Rail smiled darkly in agreement, and the mage continued. "I need you to watch Lazal. I fear he would notice my eyes and intrusions far more than you."

Rail nodded curtly and headed for the door. "He will not know I am there. I will find you when I have something of value."

"Thank you, my friend." Almost as an afterthought, Magus added, "Tread lightly."

"I know no other way." Rail paused in the doorway and flexed his damaged hand, examining the spidery sigils on his forearm. "We must talk about this...," he motioned toward his hand, "when I return."

Magus looked puzzled, but nodded curtly as the assassin turned and dissappeared in the crowd, off to find the mysterious wizard.

[Craig]

{OOC i need ideas for getting into the STG

[Xandax]

A number of hours had past, Xandax didn’t know who many – but constantly the number for new “mercenaries” had increased in the room. Well Xandax thought of them as mercenaries but the truth of the matter was that they ranged in appearance from farm boys to hardened fighters to what seemed like already Black Helm people. Xandax wonder about what were going to happen.
Then 6 well-armoured men wielding black halberds entered the room accompanying one man dress in a robe.
“All of you – follow me” the roped man yelled out
All the people including Xandax got up and followed the man – the 6 guards walked behind the cluster of people. Xandax quickly counted at least 20 possible mercenaries.
The group was let through a couple of hallways and down a number of stairs to a sizable area.
The area was approximately 30 meters in diameter and about the same high – high up Xandax noticed some blacken windows.
”Hmm – we are apparently going to put on a show – but why mustn’t we see the spectators” Xandax thought as he walked to the other end of the arena.
“You have all asked to join our organisation – but before you are found worthy to do so, we must asses your fighting skills.” the roped man yelled out to tone out the nervous mumblings of the crowd.
“Don’t worry about getting hurt – we have skilled cleric available to heal you.” he continued “Furthermore – if you can’t make it in here, you would most likely not make it afterwards – you knew what you signed up for.”
The roped man and his guards left the arena as the crowd stood and sized each other up. The more experienced fighters in the crowd had already drawn their weapons and positioned themselves with their back to the wall. Xandax had done the same though not to close to the wall – he knew where this was going – the question was only how many had to be killed in this room. Then one window open and the roped figure called out: “Fight – fight for your lives”.
Suddenly several spikes shot out of the wall and the first 3 men collapsed. Then the crowd started fighting. Xandax noticed how the experience fighters charged those that didn’t look nearly as experienced. “No honour, they have no honour” Xandax thought as he slowly walked into the centre of the arena wielding his sword. A couple of men charges Xandax – but he mealy parried their onslaught with a simple manoeuvre and gave them a good whack with the hilt of his sword. So they passed out. Then one of the experienced looking warriors saw Xandax and charged him.
The warrior was wielding a long sword and a short sword. He lashed out with his long sword towards Xandax. Parrying the thrust with his own sword – Xandax rammed his shield into the chest of the warrior with a force that crushed it, the man fell down, death. Quickly only 5 men including Xandax were standing – getting ready to fight them – the door into the arena opened. The party from before, 6 guards and the roped figure entered. “That will do” he said, “follow me”. The 5 men followed the roped man out of the arena back to the room they were in first. Then he left – the guards stayed.
Another man entered the room.
“I am Glam Loyd” he said, “I’ll be your superior officer for you stay in our organization. What I say, is law – you will not disobey me, if you do – you will die.”
He smiled “Welcome to the Black Helm”


{OOC: okay - now what?? }

[Craig]

{OOC i need ideas

[Magus]

@Xandax: Nice.

*****

He was alone once again. Now to start his own undercover work...

He left the temple of Ilmater, heading into an abandoned building. Inside, he began a ritual of corruption magics. They were foul indeed, an art he had learned from a passing rakshasa. But they would serve his purpose for now. Using them, weaving their illusionary and altering powers, he almost imperceptibly changed the face of the building. The door melded into the wall, becoming immovable, and the glass of the windows became like crystal, hard and opaque instead of transparent. At the same time he erected a powerful barrier against divination around the building. That done, he had only minutes before the Cowled Wizards came to investigate.

Quickly he used the corruptive magics to transform himself. His half-elven features twist and curve, flattening to those of a human. His hair shortens and darkens to a deep brown. Even his robe and items alter, changing color and shape. His glowing purple necklace turns yellow, taking the form of a mundane necklace of protection. His rings take the likenesses of a silver ring and an onyx ring. The staff he had created years ago mutates in his hand, to all eyes a silver staff of minor enchantment. The last to change are his glimmering translucent robes. His trademark, they morph into common adventurer’s robes.

He then turned his attention to Void. It wouldn’t do to have the notorious hakeashar following him around. Focusing his mind, one with the magic, he worked the rakshasan magic. Bypassing Void’s magical immunity was very taxing, even with his cooperation. But soon it was done, and Void’s new form was a sleek black cat.

The transformation was complete, the illusion woven. Beyond contemporary divination, the rakshasa’s corruptive magics were in a way a combination of the well-known human magics of alteration and illusion. He and his items were changed, yet they were not. They were changed to everyone’s eyes, including his own. However, they functioned as one believed they would function. Worn by him, his robes still maintained their original enchantment. But worn by another, they really would be just adventurer’s robes. This powerful magic was thus nearly undetectable. Even a powerful mage would only sense something odd, and even then only on close inspection. Furthermore, the illusion could be detected or dispelled only by certain powerful artifacts, or the rakshasa themselves, outside of Magus.

He heard voices outside. The Cowled Wizards had arrived. Time to flee the scene...

But first he needed a decoy. He hurriedly manipulated the corruptive magics he had weaved, forming a cleft in the opposite wall large enough for a man to squeeze through. He then opened a rift into the Astral plane, and he and Void stepped through. The wizards would never think to look for traces of such an unusual method of transportation, especially with an obvious escape route already there. When the two stepped out, it was noon, and they were outside the city gates. Bribing well the guards on duty, he made it through without a fuss. He then started on his way to the Government District, and the headquarters of the Cowled Wizards, the black cat trailing behind him somewhat indignantly.

OOC: {Kind of awkward writing in the past tense, but I gave it a shot. What do you guys think? Should I try to keep writing in the past tense, or should I return to the present where I’m already comfortable?}

*****

The incident in the Slums District that day made quite a stir. The Cowled Wizards downplayed it, publicly announcing that a rogue mage had gotten loose. But they were quite disturbed. A rakshasa must have snuck into the city. A couple of djinni were summoned secretly to track down the dangerous predator. They set off to the task with an eagerness they specially reserved for hunting these arch-nemesises of genie-kind.

*****

“Welcome to the Black Helm. I know you all are eager to get settled down and all, but right now I would like to tell you your first mission. Tonight we have an arms shipment arriving from down south. Lately the Shadow Thieves have been getting more troublesome, and we have word that they’ll try to rob the caravan just out of sight of the city gates. We’d send some of our own, but extra men are scarce these days. The honorable Lieutenant Calahan himself will be there to keep you in line, and make sure you don’t screw up. A few words of advice: Don’t get him angry. This is an important assignment, and he won’t hesitate to kill any one of you on the spot.”

“Any questions? Good. You will meet the Lieutenant outside the city gates at dusk. Don’t be late. Until then, your time is your own.” Glam Lloyd walks out, leaving the five mercenaries to their own devices.

*****

Thryn leaves the Copper Coronet after Xandax, seeing that he’d be alone for this job. He sees a few panicked-looking Cowled Wizards scurrying around a nearby decrepit building, but decides not to stick around to find out what it was about. He goes to Cromwell’s, surprised to find his sword already repaired. –Wow he’s fast- Thryn thinks, thanking the dwarf. A few blocks away, he sees the building rumored to be a branch quarters of the Shadow Thieves, headed by Mae’Var long ago, though Thryn doesn’t know this. As always, he treads through the alleyways, preferring their shadows to the blinding light of day. As he nears the ominous-looking building, he spots several cloaked figures watching him from all around. Noticing them at all was a testament to Thryn’s skills, as few were so perceptive. Nonetheless, he has the distinct feeling that any wrong move could be his last.

Entering the building, he approaches a plump-looking man selling wares. Apparently it was supposed to be a shop.

“What will it be, good sir? I promise you’ll find not find such quality products at lower prices anywhere else in this fine city. You look like the practical sort. Might I attract your eyes to this finely crafted short sword I acquired from a most generous young gentleman?” The merchant holds up a common short sword that could be found in any of the numerous shops in Athkatla. “Only 10 gold pieces, my good man.”

Thryn wonders what to do next. He spots a fine line running up the opposite wall. A secret door. But surely the merchant wouldn’t take kindly to him just stomping in and opening it...not to mention the hooded figures perched in waiting outside...

*****

[Rail]

@All- sorry it's a long one and it's all about me. I was enjoying the writing.

* * *

Rail pulled the hood down lower over his face to keep the drizzling rain off of his face as he walked past the guards and out of the Radiant Heart. The guards once again glanced suspiciously at the departing assassin and one stepped forward as if to intercept, but he was stopped short by gesture and a whisper from the other guard. "Not that one. Leave him be." The guard looked confused, but shrugged and resumed his post.

Too much rain for one day, Rail thought. Especially for this time of year. He was disappointed with his meeting with Praelit Keldorn, but not from any confrontation with the man himself. He didn't mind the lectures he often received from Keldorn. He actually shared much in common with the grizzled inquisitor, though they used different and sometimes conflicting means to the same end, it was still a common goal. However, he'd hoped the Praelit would be more forthcoming in providing information about the wizard Lazal, but it seemed the Order knew as little of the mysterious wizard as Magus. Little was better than nothing, but it was odd that a wizard could rise to such prominence in this city without much of an investigation.

He worked his way through the sparse and rain-spattered evening crowds back to the slums, into one of the areas still tainted by the city's demonic occupancy a few years ago. An odd residence for one of the Cowled minions, thought Rail, though certainly appropriate. He spied the unadorned doorway marking the building in question. Oddly, he noticed there were still no rats, dogs, or animals of any kind that ever seemed inclined to venture near the structure. Sometimes animals seem wiser than the rest of this city's inhabitants

Smoothly ducking into an alley across the street from the targeted building, he worked his way past the refuse to the back of the alley and expertly climbed up the rain gutter to the top floor, where he slithered through a broken window and into a deserted and dilapidated apartment, one only rats seemed able to stomach. Braving the stench and newly rotting timbers, Rail worked his way to the hallway and over to the front apartment. It's amazing what a little gold will rent you in this part of town. 20 gold pieces and the resident was glad to journey to Trademeet to visit his uncle. It beat the unspoken alternative, after all. Magus must be rubbing off on me. I'm getting soft.

Quickly picking the lock and disarming the simple but well hidden gas trap, Rail entered the tiny, unkempt apartment to the alarm of a shadowy man backing away from the window and raising a crossbow toward the doorway. Rail frowned. "Ichar, what's the status over there?"

The man cleared his throat and lowered the weapon, shaking his head with a sigh. "I thought you were someone else," he said with a raspy voice, motioning over the the opposite building where the mage occupied.

Rail smiled darkly. "I doubt he would enter by the front door."

"No, you're probably right." Ichar seemed no more at ease, though he sat back on the stool by the tattered curtains and returned the looking glass to his eye, peering through a hole in the drapery. "Not much has changed over there. Very few have come or gone all day, though I've written everything down as usual." Ichar nodded toward a notebook and an ink quill on the floor below.

"I figured as much," Rail curtly stated, hoping the man would get the hint that he was being relieved. Turning around, Ichar hesitated before climbing to his feet. He began to remove a ring from his hand, but Rail waved him off. "Keep it! You've more than earned it. It served me well, and you may need that if we all get as deep into this as I think."

Ichar nodded respectfully toward the assassin. "I am honored. I know this served you well..."

"Think nothing of it. I have other means."

The man bowed slightly, a tradition bred from studying in Kara Tur, and wordlessly took his leave. Professional and to the point. The brooding assassin trusted Ichar as much as one could trust someone in his line of work. Rail thought of the small "guild" he had assembled here in the City of Coin. Small out of necessity, they consisted of a few thieves, a cunning fighter known for killing wizards, and a priest of Mask. The Shadow Thieves took seriously anyone in his line of work who refused to affiliate with them, or at least pay them off, and his "friend" Aran had repeatedly warned him not to cross the Thieves. Aran and Rail spoke occasionally, though their association was tenuous, at best, ever since Raistlin ravaged the city. It was the best thing that ever happened to the Shadow thieves, but Rail saw things differently.

Quietly, Rail gathered the notebook and quill, putting them in a waxed envelope and secreting it inside his cloak. He left the apartment, locking the door and resetting the traps, and donned a coarse wool cloak, covered in dirt. Grabbing an empty bottle from an incoherent drunk inside the doorway, Rail stumbled onto the street and convincingly weaved his way over toward the other building, leaving little doubt as to how the bottle had been drained. Undoubtedly, he would once again spend several hours hunched in the rain subtly taking notes under his cloak while mumbling drunkedly to himself. Unlike the other observers he'd used, however, he could see things they'd missed. He knew what to look for and how a mage thought. He'd been around mages all his life, and he studied them as acutely as they studied their tomes and spells. There were things their sharp minds overlooked. Gaping holes in their vaunted armor.

Patiently, Rail went back to work. He concentrated on the building before him, letting the magic in his new ring take hold. Slowly, the walls faded in color until they were as clear as glass. Rail could see through the magical darkness that covered the windows. While he couldn't see details, he could see shapes and distinct outlines. Furniture and books, candles and vials.

And, he could see the mage. Rail sat down, continuing his act, surrounded in shadow and the smell of dirt and alcohol, and he watched.

[ 07-23-2001: Message edited by: Rail ]

[Xandax]

Glam Lloyd and his guards left the room. It seemed as a pretty simple mission, guarding a shipment of supposedly weapons from the Shadow Thieves.
But the tone of his voice and the treats wake suspicions within Xandax.
“Oh well there wasn’t anything I can do right now.” Xandax thought. He sad down on his bunk, and started to clean his weapons after the intermezzos earlier in the arena.
He looked around at the other mercenaries, most of the looked like simple brigands. The other started to talk among themselves and boasting about their heroic deeds and adventures.
“If these people have done all the things they say – it is a wonder that their still are dragon sightings in Faerun” Xandax thought with a smile. Xandax didn’t trust many mercenaries – they were a dangerous lot. Fighting like this for money they’d as soon turn on their master for more money from his enemies then continue to fight for him, and if a fight looked to tough, they just as soon leave the battlefield.
The hours passed slowly, Xandax looked at the sky “A storm is coming” he mumbled to himself. The other 4 people had drunk some ale and gamble some money up – which Xandax reasoned properly were their last.
“It is time to go” one of the men said. Xandax didn’t know his name, and frankly he didn’t care much – if things went as he thought they would – not many of these men would live to see the sun again.
All of them put on their armour and checked their weapons. On their bunks had laid a Black Helm insignia that they should wear on their armour so they were easily distinguishable.
The small group made it’s way through town passing several patrols of guards, Black Helm’ guards.
Finally they were at the gates, and waked a short way out of town when they saw what had to be Calahan, wielding a halberd.

[Craig]

Thryn walked ove to the man and said,
"Thats a nice secret door, any way im in look for employment got any?"

[Magus]

@Fas+Aegis: Hello? Anybody there?

@craig: Next time could you write a little more? We have to keep Thryn in pace (timewise) with everyone else. I’d like to limit myself to just guiding everyone else, and focus on advancing my own character.

@Rail: No problem. It’s good reading

*****

Thryn walked over to the man and said,
"That’s a nice secret door. Anyway, I’m looking for employment. Got any?"

“Employment? Well, I could use somebody to organize my wares, but from your looks I don’t think that would appeal to you very much,” the merchant replies, unflustered.

“Come, now. Do you think anyone with half a brain would mistake this for a merchant’s shop? I didn’t come here for small talk. I hear the Shadow Thieves are recruiting, and I’m here to sign up. Got a problem with that?” Thryn asks cooly, casually tossing a dagger in the air and catching it.

The merchant inspects him silently for a moment. “Very well. But it’s your grave if you fail the initiation. We can’t just let young hotheads like you spilling all our secrets, can we?” The merchant walks over and touches a certain spot on the wall, opening the secret door. He motions impatiently for Thryn to step through. “Oh, and the trials have just begun. I suggest you be on your guard,” he says before closing it behind him with finality. No turning back now.

He walks down the hall. He emerges into a dark room with stacked crates of varying heights everywhere. Suddenly, he hears the shuffle of feet to his right. He ducks the incoming blade, sweeping the feet of his assailant. As he falls, Thryn grimly slices his throat. He then blends into the shadows, walking silently, making his way around the room. He detects others doing the same. On the other side of the room, a thrown dagger lodges into someone’s back, hitting a vital spot and ensuring a slow, painful death.

Another dagger comes flying at him from up high. Thryn barely rolls out of the way, the dagger scraping his right arm. The next dagger follows seconds later, but this time Thryn spots the thrower on top of an especially large stack of crates. He dodges it, then slams into the pile, causing it to come crashing down. The thief on top manages to scramble aside, landing on his feet, but another one is crushed under a ton of falling wood. Thryn uses the speed of his boots to close on the dagger thrower in an instant, impaling the surprised rogue on the end of his repaired sword. Abruptly a door opens in the wall on the far side of the room, and light comes streaming in.

“Very good. Everybody that can make it out of the room under their own power will do so now. Any others that yet live will be put out of their misery,” speaks a black-clad woman, silhouetted in the light.

A shadow moves near the door, stabbing towards the newcomer. She whips out a pair of daggers in a flash, parrying the attack with one and slashing the attacker’s throat with the other. Her victim is dead before he hits the ground.

“Anyone else want to try that? I don’t mind putting a few more of you ****y wannabees in your place,” she says, her voice cold and deadly.

Nobody takes her offer. They slowly emerge from their hiding places and walk to the door, six in all, including Thryn. Six more lie dead, two by Thryn’s hand, one indirectly by his actions. But Thryn feels no remorse. A compassionate rogue doesn’t live long.

A series of tests follow, each one examining a different skill. A trap course, a pickpocketing trial, a lockpicking exam. Failure in any one brought death, and by the end only Thryn and two others were left.

“My, but this group is a poor one. Usually at least half survive. Shows that we’ve already got the best, and that trash is all that’s left,” the woman states contemptuously, looking the three over. Her gaze settles especially long on Thryn, making him uncomfortable.

“You two,” she says, pointing to the others. “Go find your rooms.” She quickly gives them directions and sends them off.

“Now for you,” she pronounces, turning to Thryn. “I’ve been watching you. Someone of your skill is uncommon among new recruits. Go to the Promenade after dusk. I’ll be hanging around the Circus Tent. There I’ll tell you your first assignment.” That said, she walks off.

After that, Thryn spends some time familiarizing himself with the place. Then he takes a nap, knowing he probably wouldn’t be getting any sleep that night. When he wakes, it’s time to meet the woman.

He finds her hiding in the shadows where she said she’d be. “Good. I’m Shadowstalker Llira, a title one earns for showing exceptional skill as an assassin . We’re going to meet up with the others outside of the city. The Black Helm has got a weapons shipment coming in. Apparently they got word of our plans to waylay it, and have sent out a few extra guards to supplement the caravan guard. Our task is to ambush this small group before they link up. Shouldn’t be too difficult. The Black Helm will be watching the gates, so we’re taking the sewers. We must hurry now. Don’t fall behind.” She creeps off into the darkness without a backward glance.

*****

Calahan watches their approach, disgust written all over his face. “I can’t believe I’m stuck with cowardly mercenaries,” he mumbles. He’d dealt with their kind before. No spine at all. And they’d desert at the snap of a finger if the going got tough, if they didn’t outright turn against you. When they’d finally come level with him, he addresses them.

“Okay you no-life’s. Know now that the money you get at the end of this depends on the outcome. Full pay if the mission succeeds, half if it fails. I’ll be the judge of which it is, by the way. And if you desert, don’t expect to live much longer. We’ll track you down and deal with you soon enough, if you somehow manage to dodge me. Unlikely, I might add.”

“That out of the way, the caravan’s behind schedule. Seems they were attacked by bandits along the way. So it’ll be a bit longer of a march than we expected. Setting out now, I expect that we’ll meet up with them by dawn.”

This news inspires some surly muttering among the group. Calahan singles one of them out. “You don’t like it, and I can end your misery right now, maggot. Is that what you want?” he shouts in his face.

“No,” he grumbles.

“WHAT’S THAT!,” Calahan bellows, brandishing his halberd.

“NO SIR!” the wretched man yells, standing at attention.

“Good,” Calahan says, apparently satsified. “Move out. I’ll take the rear to keep an eye on you sorry sellswords.”

*****

@all: I’d write about Magus and Void, but this is already two pages in Word, and at least 3.5 hours of time. No more for today...

@Xandax+craig: You guys can see where this is heading, hopefully, so feel free to continue.

[Xandax]

Calahan started walking outwards in the wilderness, Xandax and the other 4 started walking after him. There were some disgruntle among two of the mercenaries, they kept mumbling that they hadn’t signed up for marching.
Calahan sat an impressive pace into the night.

“10 minutes break” Calahan had stopped suddenly.
Everybody sat down and rested.
“So you are the best of the mercenaries this time” Calahan shook his head as his eyes wondered across everyone. “Can you even fight?” He was taunting the group.
“Yes – can you” one of the unsatisfied men said while grinning to what properly was his friend.
”Well let’s see” Calahan said and trusted out whit his halberd. The other mercenary barly rolled out of the way.
”He is fast” Xandax though as he viewed the spectacle.
The loud-mouthed mercenary stood up, wielding his weapon – a nasty looking mace. His friend did the same.
“Oh, so you both think you can fight?” Calahan kept taunting.
The 2 men charged and were quickly cut down.
“He was very fast and deadly” Xandax though while trying to size up Calahan – “One wouldn’t think that just by looking at him”

“We are moving out – let their bodies lie” He said as he started moving out. The last 2 men and Xandax moved quickly after him – nobody said a word.

Dawn was coming and they would soon rendezvous with the transport.
Xandax reached down, just to reassure himself that his sword was still there – the hilt felt warm again.

[Craig]

{OOC i really don't want to mess up the story(like i did with that mage encounter at the CC)}

[Magus]

@all: Ok, I'm not dead. I ran out of hours on my free internet service, and it wouldn't let me log on. But now that I'm on vacation I can use my relative's provider. I'll have a post first thing in the morning.

@Aegis+Craig: Belated private message response coming your way. I swear I'll check them more often from now on.