Athkathla II
Athkathla II
Ok were did we leave of can some one c/p it in?
Well, here it it. All the posts of the next RP experience. Warning, long post.
After defeating Raistlin, and saving Athlatka, the mysterious band of adventurers disbanded, their identities known only by a select few. The city was left to ponder the strange passage of events unaided, and tall tales grew in abundance.
The most popular of these tales said the gods themselves were offended by the dark mage’s abuse of magic, and that he was stripped of his power and imprisoned deep beneath the earth. Many a power hungry apprentice took heart in the tale and searched greedily for the place of his imprisonment, so that they might use a freedom scroll and become the mage’s right hand.
Others said a great denizen of the Upper Planes, a planetar lord, was upset by the city’s great demonic infestation. He crossed into the prime material and slew the presumptuous mage, sending his soul along with his demon cohorts screaming back to the Lower Planes.
But a few knew the true story. They remained silent, respecting the parting wishes of those that did not care for the burdens of fame. Well, perhaps not so much “respecting” their wishes, as heeding dire threats of bodily harm if they did not cooperate. A stoic barbarian named Fallout comes to mind. Or death come swiftly from the shadows of the night, as Rail the assassin darkly promised. So it was that the heroes’ deed fell into myth and legend, while the heroes themselves went their separate ways, some to settle down, and others to continue adventuring in some other distant land.
But peace is always a transient thing, and eventually all things must come to an end. A decade has passed since Athlatka’s siege by demons, and only in the poorer sections of town do reminders remain of that cruel time. Since then, Athlatka’s paramilitary organizations have grown greatly in power. After the defeat of the demons, they stepped in to fill the power vacuum left by the government’s bumbling ineptitude. The government is now merely a puppet of these powerful groups, namely the Cowled Wizards and the Shadow Thieves.
In the aftermath of the devastation, the Cowled Wizards played on the outrage created by the popular imprisoned dark mage story. They used this leverage to strengthen their power over magic-users into a stranglehold. Now only members of the elite group have the right to practice magic. Not only that, but all magical items brought into or out of Amn must first be inspected for “evil magics.” Of course, a hefty “downpayment” will clear up most misunderstandings. Their coffers swollen with money from the magical item trade, the Cowled Wizards are more powerful than ever before. Enemies and dissidents quickly disappear, never to be seen again.
As the Cowled Wizards’s rule became increasingly corrupt and oppressive, people fled to the only other group influential enough to keep the wizards at bay: The Shadow Thieves. Their ranks swelled with new recruits like never before, and soon the great crime organization wielded as much power as the Cowled Wizards themselves. Smuggling magical items through the Cowled Wizards’ customs posts became as lucrative as the taxing itself. Over time, the Cowled Wizards and Shadow Thieves, in their opposition, achieved an uneasy balance.
Until now, that is...
Absorbed in an ultimately futile struggle against each other, an upstart mercenary group has steadily grown in membership right under their noses. Known only as the Black Helm, it started as a guild created to train Athlatka’s city guard. Their jurisdiction quickly grew more and more, until it now controls Amn’s entire military, excluding the majority of the battlemages, who remain affiliated to the Cowled Wizards. This guild, though as yet still no match for either the Cowled Wizards or the Shadow Thieves, threatens to tip the uneasy balance between the two supergroups.
Amn is at the brink of civil war. Its neighbors lick their chops in anticipation. And opportunistic adventurers and mercenaries alike come to Amn to pledge their allegiance for gold, glory, and adventure.
Magus stood in his laboratory, one of many pocket dimensions in his home, called the Rift. Seen from the outside, it is a great bluish-purple obelisk that reaches towards the sky, located a few miles from Athlatka atop a gaping cliff. But the colors are not stagnant. Rather, they swirl and pulsate with powerful magics, making the structure a grand sight indeed. It is a veritable fortress, with unauthorized entry nigh impossible to all but the most powerful of mortals. Even fewer could withstand the subsequent counterattack. But the structure itself is merely a shell, no more than a bland container compared to the miracles within. For the Rift is a place of magic incarnate, where magic is as plentiful as dirt and air anywhere else. It has no “rooms,” at least in the common sense of the word. It is a cluster of pocket dimensions, each of which expand infinitely to the eyes of the unwanted. But paths open to those that are welcome. In some ways as dynamic as Limbo, the pocket dimensions within are always expanding, catering to the various needs of its master and ruler. For a kingdom it could be called, with all of its space and guardians. Though a kingdom certainly not of this world...
Magus delicately prepared to mix the two potions, bracing himself for the possible explosion. But it would be worth the risk. A potion that could temporarily raise one’s casting level would be highly sought after...
DAMN YOU MAGUS! GET YOUR BLASTED PEONS AWAY FROM ME!
The two bottles go crashing to the floor, exploding in an enormous fireball that engulfs the lab. Potions dissolve and ancient texts disintegrate as the flames destroy everything they touch. When the smoke clears, however, no harm is done. The texts and potions are mysteriously back where they were, as if time itself had been reversed. All except for the two broken potion bottles on the floor. And Magus’s most irate expression.
*****
“DAMN YOU MAGUS! GET YOUR BLASTED PEONS AWAY FROM ME!” Tolgerias screamed as the assortment of hakeashar, nishruu, and invisible stalkers swarmed towards him. Furious beyond prudence, he fires off a Dragon Breath spell. The ensuing blast throws his assailants away, engulfed in terrible flames. He sniffs in condescending satisfaction, until the still flaming monsters begin to move towards him once again. For once, Tolgerias is speechless.
-You are not wanted here, Tolgerias. Leave from whence you came before we get angry.- comes a whisper on the wind.
“I’ll not be denied, again! I WILL see Magus!” Tolgerias prepares another spell to hopefully blast these fools into oblivion.
Silence!
Speech is abruptly beyond Tolgerias, and his wonderful spell fizzles. Turning, he glares daggers at Magus, who has just appeared.
The stare is returned tenfold, and suddenly Tolgerias thinks that upsetting Magus might not have been such a good idea...
Finally, Magus relents, and waves his hand in a gesture of dispelling. Might as well get this irritating meeting over with...
Finding the ability to speak returned once more, Tolgerias launches into a tirade. “You dare treat the Chair of the Cowled Wizards this way! I’ll have you-“
“You’ll have me what, Tolgerias?” Magus interrupts, already annoyed.
Tolgerias glares at Magus, then makes a visible effort to calm himself. That done, he speaks somewhat more civilly. “You owe a duty to your fellow wizards, Magus.”
“My FELLOW wizards!” Magus exclaims. “I am not and have never been party to such a corrupt organization of greedy fools!”
“Careful what you say, Magus. Such a statement could be...dangerous.”
“You dare threaten me? Here?” Magus exclaims, taken aback for a moment. He gazes intently at Tolgerias for a moment, before dismissing the idle threat. Then he sighs, turning his back. “What IS it that you could possibly want?” he seems to say to no one in particular.
Tolgerias hurries to seize the opportunity. “You know of the Black Helm, don’t you? Of course you do. The Cowled Wizards have been watching them for a while now, and we have decided that they have grown far too powerful for their own good. They are a danger not just to us, but to Amn itself.”
Seeing Magus’s obvious skepticism, Tolgerias rushes to explain. “Like it or not, there is a balance to be maintained. I admit the Cowled Wizards profit from this balance, but it is beneficial to all, regardless. Do you really want civil war? Like Tethyr?”
“I really couldn’t care less, if you would really like to know, Tolgerias.” But the statement is weak, even to Magus’s own ears. Magus throws up his hands, and turns back to face Tolgerias. “Okay, okay. I see your point. Now what do you want ME to do about it?”
“Simple really. Your influence is great in Amn, Magus. All you need to do is publicly affirm your staunch support of your old comrades, the Cowled Wizards. With your support behind us, the Black Helm will be critically weakened. We can brush them aside and not have to worry about them again.”
“Affirm my staunch support of my old comrades? You’ve got to be joking!” Magus exclaims. But a quick glance at Tolgerias reveals he’s most assuredly not. “Tolgerias, be reasonable. You know I could never openly support the Cowled Wizards. Think of something else.”
Tolgerias looks ready to argue, but he is interrupted by an anomaly forming in the air in front of him. A face appears, glimmering as if seen reflected on water. “Tolgerias, your assistance is required at headquarters. The Council of Wizards requires your immediate presence.”
Tolgerias swears softly under his breath and hesitates. He glares at Magus. As he vanishes in a teleport spell, he yells, “This isn’t over yet, Magus! You’ll help us whether you want to or not!”
With the Chair of the Cowled Wizards gone, Magus is left to ponder Tolgerias’s words. And damn it all if they don’t have the ring of truth! Blasted fools and their idiot intrigue...
The dusky light of the moon shrouded Virdel's dark skin from the common eye. Unless one looked closely, you could not even spot the Drow Outcast. In fact, his only give was the occasional glint of the Elven Chainmail adorning his form. He had been camped out here for the past three hours, being quite sure not to let his race be known by any, as Drow were not welcomed kindly in the surface world. He shifted slightly, trying eagerly to become comfortable. Not a sound was made, only a black mass moving.
The entrance to the government building was an easy enough target to watch. Large, and unmistakeable, especially after the carnage wrecked here so long ago when Aegis and Raistlin had over taken the city. He waited for a man to come to the doors. He waited many hours, but his chance, and stakeout finally paid off. He saw the robed man come to entrance of the building, and he made his move.
As slightly as a he watched, he made his way to the man's back. Before reaching the man, he spoke the words for a globe of darkness to shroud his attack, and drew his two scimitars. In one fluid, whirring motion, his disarmed the man of his magical staff, and cut the belt from his waste, causing the man to lose all his spell components. The man turned in the darkness, not knowing what was happening till it was too late. Virdel heard the muffled cries of the man as he dug his blade into the mans stomach, then slid his other across the man's throat. Using Drow proficiency, the man was killed with expert ease, and mastery.
Virdel murmered the words to dispel the globe, and looked to the corpse on the ground. He stood, and gathered anything magical, and worth selling, nothing incriminating of course. He then stood up, and with a grim smile, he turned on his heel, and walked from the corspe.
Virdel: Good-bye Tolgerias. I'm sorry to have done that, but my employer did not wish for you to have Magus.
Virdel turned the corner to leave the district as he heard the paniced cries from the gaurds returing from the patrol route. He understood little, but knew that they were shocked to see one of the Cowled Wizards highest ranking agents. He smiled at a job well done, and disappeared into the night...
After having their city nearly destroyed, and the majority enslaved, the people of Athkatla were more then happy to progress with their lives. Of course, after the city was restored, they gave many thanks to the brave heroes who saved their city from the Tyranny of Aegis and Raistlin. The most thanks being directed towards the valiant Arch-Magi, Magus. Little was realized of the true, and unlikely hero of Athkatla. The man Magus only knew to be the true hero. The one holding the tyrannical sway, Aegis, was the one who defeated Raistlin, in one final, glorious march towards him. Having the will despiration of a paladin wanting to redeem himself, he marched himself to Raistlin, and delivered the killing strike.
But, because of his past deeds, only Magus knows the turht to Raistlin's defeat, but does not relinquish the knowledge. For two reasons, to speak Aegis name in the streets of Athkatla means being arrested for talk of heresy, by not only the Cowled Wizards, but the newly formed Black Helm as well. The other a more personal note. Magus partially trained Aegis in the art of magic, and being unable to prevent his perversion to evil, feels partly responsible for the consequences. Since that day, he has strived to become a better Wizard for it, and a better judge of will of a person.
Little does the populace realize, but the deaths of both Aegis, and Raistlin Majere caught the attention of the gods of Faerun, which now watch the city with pique interest, waiting to see how the people work through their next challenge. But, in order to protect their own interests, they have given one mortal the power of an Avatar, in order to make sure no one attempts to ascend to omnipotent power again. As of now, their choice is a mystery to all, those who know of the gift spread rumours as to whom controls this new found power of the gods, and they know that in some way, that power will be the deciding factor in not only Athkatla's survival, but all of Amn.
It was a few hours before dawn. Xandax had been walking all night, and many nights before this one.
He preferred to travel by night – things seem more dangerous at night but you are not taken by surprise this way.
There was nothing for him, in the place formerly called home. His father had attacked the keep Xandax live in with his beloved mother and stepfather. He had failed to save neither his mother nor stepfather, but had been able to take revenge on his father by destroying him and his minions – may he rot. Now he walked around without much destination and purpose – he had not much to live for, but wanted to see Athkatla to find adventure.
Suddenly Xandax’ amulet started to glow eerie. “Take good care of this”, he remember his mothers words, ”it is powerful magic”. He had never fully understood magic; it was fascinating, especially when imbued in a good sword. He stopped moving, reaching for the hilt …… listening.
“What have we got here” a man emerged behind Xandax. Xandax slowly turned around – the man was not alone.
“Who are you” Xandax asked the man.
“ I’m here to help you – carry your gold, it looks heavy”
“It was”, Xandax thought smiling – he had a lot of gold, partly what he looted from his fathers tower and what he had gotten from his stepfathers keep.
“So you want my gold? – How do you plan to get it?”
“We’ll take it”
Suddenly 4 men, looking much alike was surrounded Xandax.
“Well then, take it!” Xandax said, while wielding his sword. The sword glowed, almost excited.
The men was nervous, they hadn’t expected a fight, but of course they hadn’t excepted anybody travelling alone at this hour.
“Get him” the leader called out and the other men moved in.
Canalising his powers Xandax went in to his preferred state, Enraged. Xandax cried out as he charged “To the death”
The battle was soon over.
“Better get some sleep” Xandax thought and lied down. A couple of hours after Xandax awoke due to traffic on the road, almost beside where he had camped for the morning.
He walked out to the road and looked.
“So this is Athkalta”
“Barkeep – give me an Ale”
Xandax was visiting the Copper Coronet.
“One gold piece, where’re you from stranger” the Barkeep asked.
“Far away, what is happening in town”
“It has been hectic times, there is….:” The barkeep didn’t finished his sentence because 2 hooded men walked into the bar. They looked hardy – wearing leather armor.
“Shadow Thieves” the barkeep whispered to Xandax “stay away from them”.
The approached a man in the corner of the bar.
“Come with us – Bloodscalp wants to talk to you” they said to the man.
The man was clearly nerveous.
“I’ve done nothing wrong” he said
“Nevertheless – you are coming with us”
“Is anybody going to help the man” Xandax asked the barkeep.
“Stay of this stranger – they are dangerous, it is a powerful group”
One of the hooded men heard Xandax and approached him.
“You wan’t something?” Xandax asked the hooded man, while he was slowly placing his hand on his swords hilt.
“You want to interfere with the Shadow Thieves??” the man asked menacing. “Do you have a problem”
“I have no problem with those, who doesn’t cause me problems. Now go away and rob a little ole lady so I can finish my ale”
The hooded man grew increasingly angry and was about to draw his weapon when the other man yelled out.
”Let’s go – we got what we came here for” he ran out into the street and disappeared with his target.
“Count your blessings stranger that you lives today. We’ll meet again, and you’ll not be so lucky again” He ran out into the street and disappeared where his partner had done the same.
“Whatever” Xandax said to himself.
““You make “friends” fast” the barkeep said to Xandax.
“One of my talents” Xandax replyed while finishing his ale and exited into the streets.
The city was buzzing with life – it did him good to see.
”Yeah – I’m going to like it here” Xandax thought “Now lets see if something fun is happening here”
“So this is Athkatla, Impressive, oh well might as well get this over with,” thinks Faisal.
It was dusk, and Faisal had been standing outside the city gate for the past 2 hours, waiting for the crowd to thin out. It happened everywhere, ever since he came up north, people always treated him like human scum just because he was from calim****e.
He never wished to cause any problems, but it was more often than not that he would have to fight for his right into the city, and this time he believed it would be worse. Since the guard consisted of only 2 now, this was the best time to enter the city.
“Halt” said the first guard with a long sword drawn.
“State your purpose, destination and origins,” said the second.
“Employment, the copper coronet, riba in calim****e”
“Riba??, hmmm name?”
“Al Faisal Zulfiqar”
The other guard also readies his weapon, a halberd.
“Al Faisal Zulfiqar, hmm, you the one who killed the calmi****e prince right??”
“well, n…”
“Some one is waiting for you inside, and you are late, they have been waiting for 3 hours now, now get going.”
Faisal shocked for a couple of minutes, stands still, then thinking about his good fortune hurries past the guards and head directly for the copper coronet.
Faisal arrives at the coronet at dark spending a great deal of time wandering the city, getting a layout of the area and if there was any employment. As he is walking towards the coronet, 4 figures break from the shadows behind them and start towards him.
One of the few abilities of his long dead father’s sword that are known to Faisal, is its ability to hint at danger, it glows green when the wielder of the sword is in danger. Seeing the sudden flash of green, Faisal decides not to chance any thing and makes a run for the coronet, better to fight them on my terms, but 2 men step in front of Faisal before he can finish the thought. Swords and stones cornered, what can I do now???
“You the calim****e?” asks one of the figures.
“yes….”
“Do you know who we are?”
“No”
“So you aren’t the one hired to kill the prince?”
“No”
“Then you are no use to us…”
The finality in the tone of voice, warned Faisal of his death, which he expected to come from behind. To avoid any hit, Faisal dives to the right, but not before an arrow pierces his tunic and embedded itself in his left shoulder.
Ignoring the pain, as survival was his aim at the moment, Faisal quickly draws his shield from his back, just in time as a lightening bolt crashes down from the sky. In a totally reflexive and protectionist move, Faisal ducks under his large shield, which is raised over his head, in the futile thinking that the shield would protect him from the lightening. He counts the seconds till it hits him, the lightening smashes against the shield driving Faisal further to the ground. Then suddenly there is no force what so ever. Bewildered, Faisal gets up and looks around, noticing now 3 figures standing and a horrific stench filling the alley.
Before Faisal could do anything else, another arrow pierces his right thigh, and the other two charge forward ready for blood. Faisal brings his shield to meet the first attackers mace, but the other’s short sword breaches his defensives and cuts deep into his waist. Thinking this is his last fight, as he won’t have time to use any of his cleric spells, Faisal starts slashing and stabbing in a wild haphazard manner, missing both the assailants who keep dancing around the wild attacks. By Tyromra’s luck, the sword cuts a rope, which was holding a great deal of bricks and rubble via a pulley system. The debris comes crashing down on the fighter with the mace, as well as blasting the other 3 from their feet.
Faisal collides with a wall losing his breath and breaking a few bones. The other two are in no better shape, Faisal with 2 arrows protruding from his body, a deep cut and broken bones and bruises, is in no shape to fight or even stand. As consciousness leaves Faisal, he sees the last 2 remaining figures starting towards him, and looks like reinforcements have also arrived, judging from the figures that have descended from the rooftops.
Then everything blacks out.
”What was that? sounds like combat?” Xandax noticed well know sounds just around the corner.
He ran around and saw 3 figures standing over a motionless man. The man looked strange to Xandax. A couple of bodies lies under some rubble.
“Hey – what is going on” Xandax yelled at the men.
”This is not your business” one of the figures called back.
“I’ve already heard that today – try something else” Xandax yelled back while readying his sword.
He walked towards the men.
The were uneasy – they hadn’t planned on anybody interfering.
The first figure readied an arrow.
“To the death” Xandax cried out and charged – feeling the benefits of his enrage. The arrow hit Xandax shield and another hit him in the leg, it didn’t slow him.
One good hit, and the first figure fell down. The third figure wielding a mace attacked to help his partners. He didn’t get far and was stuck down.
”One left” Xandax said to the last standing figure. Suddenly something hit Xandax. It was magic. It hurt but didn’t cause him to fall down. He struck down the last of the 3 men and turned around to see who it was that had attacked him magical. Nobody was there. No crowd or animals. Just Xandax and the stranger.
Xandax picked the stranger up.
“Better get you to a healer”
“I can heal him, it’ll cost you 500 GP” the Priest said to Xandax. It was lucky that there was a temple on top of the Coronet.
“Do it” Xandax paid the healer.
“You’d better get him to an inn also”
“Yeah yeah – just heal him”
The wounds on the man heal as the priest said mystical words and made gestures.
Soon the man was hole again. Xandax brought him down into the Copper Coronet again and rented a room.
Placing the man in the room so he could rest – Xandax took place down near the bar and waited.
“Nice town” he tough, “Been here 3 hour and already seen 2 attacks at people, something is going on”
Kierran was awaken by the sound of a human voice, faintly at first.
“Wake up, bub”
Somewhat dazed, Kierran tried replying “Wha…”
“You heard me…wake up,”
He could now feel a hand shaking his right shoulder violently. Kierran opened his eyes and saw the face of an old beggar, displaying a set of rotten teeth as he smiled at him. He took a quick look around him and that was when he realized that he was not in his beloved wilderness anymore. The greenery of the trees were now replaced by the greyness of what appeared to be old and ugly buildings. Questions began forming in his mind; where was he?What was he doing here? And most importantly, why couldn’t he remember anything from the past few days?
Another shook brought Kierran back to reality, and once again, he could see the face of the old beggar, though the smile has gone and is now replaced with a frown, “Are yer alright , bub? Ye look as if ye’ve been sleepin’ ‘ere fer days”
Kierran rubbed his head, “ Err…I think I’m fine. I can’t seem to remember what happened to me though…”
The smile returned to the old face, “Well, at least yer alright,” the old beggar turned around, “Ye can stay wit’ me fer now, if you like…”
Kierran was hesitant at first, but decided to stay with the old beggar for as long as he needed to gather more information about this ‘city’ and why he was here.
“Oh, by the way, can you please tell me where I’m in right now, kind sir?”
The beggar turned to face Kierran once again with a look of shock, “ Ye don’t know what city yer in??” he chuckled. “ why, this ‘ere’s Athkathla, the city of Coin. Ye really can’t remember a thing, can ye?”
Kierran replied, “I can’t, that’s why I’m thinking of staying here while I find out more about this….Athkathla “
The beggar continued chuckling, “ well, yer welcome to stay wit’ me here….” He paused for awhile before continuing, “Ye can call me Old Fitz, that’s what the young ones do”
Kierran shook Old Fitz’s hand, “Thank you, kind sir. I won’t forget your kindness”
Old Fitz snarled at him, “ Bah, ye can forget about my kindness now. It’s dinner time…” seeing the look on Kierran’s face, he added, “ Well, ye need skills to survive back ‘ere, an’ I think ye be havin’ none, so I’ll teach ye how to look fer yer own food ‘ere. Now, pay close attention to what I do, and don’t ye be runnin’ around ‘ere…tis a dangerous place if yer not familiar”
Kierran replied with a smile, “ I will, sir, I will”
As darkness closed around him he saw, with the help of his elven eyes, the faint outline of the evil mage, Nicros, something he needed to get rid of.
Behind the wizards black robe Thryn struck drawing his long sword down slicing his coller bone, tering({OOC sp?) his spine and poisoning the wound, the mage stumbled and Thryn took out his dagger and slid it through the bridge of his nose.
After searching the body he found a scroll, a message that said somthing about black helm.He took the cloak and, also he found a key which, he thought was from Athkathla."Long time no see," he murmered...
As Faisal wakes, he is met with a wave of nausea and exhaustion. But despite all of his attempts to slink back into unconsciousness, sleep eludes him. Remembering his wounds, he gingerly sits up. But a quick survey of his body reveals only scars and bruises in place of slashes and broken bones. Getting up, he almost wretches from the sudden blood rush to his head. He slowly walks over to the door, wincing in pain, but gradually he starts to feel a bit better. That any old thug with a knife and a will could end his life in his current condition totally escapes the young lad. Stumbling down the stairs, he sees a well-armored man (Xandax, but Faisal doesn’t know this) get up from the bar(???) and come quickly towards him.
*****
It was now almost morning. After Kierran’s awakening at dusk, Old Fitz had given him a crash course in slumming. It took Old Fitz a while to pound the lessons into his thick “tree-tangled head,” as Old Fitz remarked, but eventually Kierran got the gist of it. The beggar had laid down for a rest, and Kierran had now decided a little exploration of this strange place was in order.
It didn’t take long to find trouble...
A block away Kierran came upon what looked like a city guard. He wore a rusted ebony black helm, and full plate that looked like something from a goblin horde. Luckily Kierran didn’t call out, for seconds later thieves in black hoods appear from the shadows to surround the guard in a circle. They didn’t seem to notice Kierran.
“You have the papers, scum?” called out what looked to be the leader.
“Ye-yes sir,” the guard stammered. He handed them to the thief, who quickly scans them.
“Excellent,” he says in satisfaction. “You have done well. Keep it up, and the Shadow Thieves might accept you yet. You may leave.
The guard hesitates. “But she said I would be well rewarded,” he blurts.
“Oh, really? Is that so?” the thief quips, smiling. He nods his head, and the other thieves begin to tighten the circle. They begin drawing their blades.
“Did you really think you could play both sides for fools? And live? Feel the wrath of the Shadow Thieves!”
The Shadow Thieves close in slowly, hungrily. The guard whips out a halberd. Despite his timid manner, he holds it with the comfort of experience. He might even kill a few before he falls, Kierran thinks to himself. But if he’s going to the aid of either side, he better think fast.
The group of guards raced to the Government Building. But it was too late, the deed already done. The enlisted men were all in a panic, but behind his black visor, the guard captain smiled. He had deliberately kept the partrol out of the area, as ordered, to let the assassin do his dirty work.
A frantic enlisted man rushed up to him. “Should we inform the Cowled Wizards, sir?”
“Are you questioning my competence, soldier?” the captain barked.
“N-n-no sir!” the soldier stammered, slinking away before he got in real trouble.
“To the barracks, all of you! On the double!”
“YES SIR!” came the chorus. They saluted, and marched off, leaving the captain.
His soldiers gone, the captain kneeled down to inspect the body. Seeing a slight depression in the mud, a footprint left by the assassin, he hurriedly smoothed it out with his boot, muttering about incompetent fools. He never saw the well-placed flame arrow that took his life...
The invisible mage teleported away to inform his superiors of Tolgerias’s demise.
*****
“So the fool finally got himself killed. Idiot.” muttered Council of Wizards member Sarak. An impatient man in his middle years, despite his apparent lower rank he was effectively Tolgerias’s superior, though the vain Tolgerias would never have admitted it. “Now we’ll have to get somebody else to deal with that arrogant bastard, Magus.”
Looking up, Sarak saw Lazal the Red’s impatience. Sarak sighs in frustration. “Superb work, as always, Lazal. Corellan notes your competence. Here is your reward.” Sarak pulls a key from his robe and unlocks a cabinet nearby, pulling out a white and yellow bracer before closing it. A fair aura of magic emanates from it.
“A simple bracelet of protection! Bah! This is not worth my precious time!” Lazal fumes.
“You’ll take it and be happy with it, Lazal! Only members have access to our finest items. Now get out! I have work to do. I have to find a replacement for that blasted idiot Tolgerias...”
Mumbling obscenities, Lazal the Red storms out the door. Already, a plan of retribution is forming in his mind. He’s not nicknamed Lazal the RED for nothing, after all...
*****
“Tolgerias...dead? How could a Cowled Wizard be killed out in the open like that? Don’t you protect your own?” Magus spoke incredulously.
“That’s none of your concern.” Sarak replied gratingly. Damn Corellan! Why in the Nine Hells did HE have to deal with this prick?! Besides, this Rift of his was giving him the creeps! Guardians all around, and most he couldn’t even see! He had an itch to flush some of them out with a Horrid Wilting...but that would solve nothing. (sigh)
“My contact is dead, Sarak. If you want my help, I want some answers.”
Sarak fought down the urge to wring Magus’s bloody neck. Suddenly, Magus’s piercing blue eyes caught his attention. Oh damn, that’s right, he’s a frickin psionic, Sarak abruptly remembered. Seeing Magus’s expression, he wasn’t too happy with Sarak’s inner antics.
Sarak coughed. “Um, maybe I should come another time, yes? One when we’re each less busy. I’ll just be leaving now.” With the unpleasantries over with, Sarak quickly teleported out of there. Boy, Corellan wouldn’t be happy about this...
*****
Magus watched the fool leave with disgust. What nerve! To come into his home and insult him! The gall!
“Magus, you’re being too impatient again...” came a soft, lovely voice right next to his ear. Turning, he grabbed hold of the intruder. Aerie giggled. “Just because you can read their thoughts doesn’t mean it’s the same as speech. It’s not fair to judge others that way.”
“But...” Magus trailed off as Aerie put on that mask of understanding. “Oh, I know, but I don’t suffer fools like Sarak gladly. You wouldn’t believe the disgusting images he conjured up-“
“So what do you plan to do?” Aerie interrupted, changing the subject and returning Magus’s mind to the point of all of this. “Are you going to help them?”
Magus pauses. “Despite their corruption, foolishness, and utter lack of tact, what they say has truth. I can’t stand aside and watch from a distance, like some conceited god, while Amn descends into a hideous revolution. But for now, I will watch and wait. Perhaps one of the guilds will prove to be the lesser evil. In that case, I will swing my aid to that side. If not, I’ll lend my support to the one that looks the strongest, in the hope that not only it could restore order, but that I could nudge it along a better path. If that means dealing with the incorrigibles within in a “permanent” manner, then so be it.”
Aerie nods. “Very well, my love. As always, I’ll support whatever decision you make.”
“Thank you.” Releasing Aerie with a sigh, he turns to one of his nearby servants. “Clean up that little mess on the floor in my lab. And tell my guards to turn back anymore visitors today. I’m ready for this day to be over...”
As you wish, master.
*****
Virdel basked himself in the shadows of his little corner in one of Athkatla's many streets. It had only been a few hours since he removed Tolgerias from the equation, and received his payment. A small, obsidion stone. Even though it didn't look like anyting of value, the stone held great powers, namely the ability to summon an Elemental of his chosing once a day. A powerful payment indeed. He smiled, and patted his pocket that enclosed his new posseision, then let his hand casually drop to the hilt of his Scimitar. He also propped his legs up against the wall opposite to him, and leaned back in the narrow niche he had found to fufill his next mission.
Even though his next mission involved no actual fighting, he did it none the less, for he did not wish to displease his "current" employer. He sat, and turned his head to a portian of the abondoned street. Noticing a few beggers, one who looked a little well too dressed to be a begger (Kierran) he shruged it off, and noted it as just a man who had lost all his ownings lately. Besides, he was here to insure that the meeting went as planned. He watched casually, again making no noise what-so-ever.
After a few more minutes of patient waiting, the man had arrived. He saw the rusted Black Helm that signified him as being the man he waited for. He also saw the group of Theives emerge from the shadows of the street, and surround the one man.
"You have the papers, Scum?" Virdel watched what he assumed to be the leader. He grinned. Scouting missions were always easy, but so much more entertaining when he was able to be a part of them. He waiting, hopeing he would be.
“Ye-yes sir,” the guard stammered. He handed them to the thief, who quickly scaned them over. Virdel's grin turned sour, as he saw the gaurds cowerdice. If this had been the Under Dark, and those men Drow, he would've have been struck down where he stood for showing fear. Not a good sign for his employers intentions.
“Excellent,” The lead Theif said in satisfaction. “You have done well. Keep it up, and the Shadow Thieves might accept you yet. You may leave." For a breif moment, Virdel thought that the gaurd would actually get away with it, but his impression quickly turned.
The guard hesitated. “But she said I would be well rewarded,” Fool! Though Virdel to himself. He questioned a Shadow Thief, when surrounded by the buggers. His hand loosed his two Scimitars, and he began to ponder if he really should get himself involved in this. After all, he was only told to watch the engagment.
“Oh, really? Is that so?” the thief quiped, smiling. He noded his head, and the other thieves began to tighten the circle. They began drawing their blades. Virdel watched as the situation became worse. Again he entertained the thought of intervening.
“Did you really think you could play both sides for fools? And live? Feel the wrath of the Shadow Thieves!” With that comment, Virdel stood from his alcove, and drew both Scimitars, but remaining in the shadows. He waited to see if the gaurd could not fight his way out of this one. He would wait to see if he was needed. It was at this point, his eye caught the well-dressed beggar again. He saw him react strangely to this encounter. He acted like more then just a beggar. Perhaps Virdel wouldn't have to be involved. He decided to wait until aboslutly sure of the stiuation. He remained with his blades drawn, but stood in the shadows, as not to drow attention to himself...
Xandax was sitting thinking. His childhood had been privileged, his stepfather had been a lord over a substantial area of land until his real father had taken his revenge over Xandax’ mother and stepfather.
After this Xandax had destroyed this evil necromancer and his minions. He was 15 years old then - how long time ago it seemed, almost as if he had read about it in a book.
The last 10 years Xandax had been roaming the lands looking for adventure, taking him further and further westwards through lands like Cormyr and through great plains.
He had seen plenty of battles and overcome plenty of attackers, much of this only possible due to the canalising of his powers, this enrage as he had heard people calling it, making him oblivious to his own welfare but striking fear in his opponents. But still, such an attack as he had seen in this city was new to him. Xandax was a warrior – honour bound in battle.
This attacks seemed cowardly like normal brigands attacking people for money, but still there were something more to it. Most ordinary thieves would run when confronted. These figures that had jumped the stranger, they seem annoyed that yet another had seen them, confronted them.
Still in his thoughts, Xandax saw the young man slowly stumbling down the stairs. It was obvious he didn’t feel good, but then again – he had been inflicted with wounds that would have killed many a untrained warrior. Xandax quickly stood up and walked towards the man stumbling down the stairs.
Xandax brought him to a table and place a dish of unrecognisable food and a mug of ale in front of him.
“How do you feel? – You really should get some more rest before getting up”
“My name is Xandax by the way”
Well, there is the story as is.
After defeating Raistlin, and saving Athlatka, the mysterious band of adventurers disbanded, their identities known only by a select few. The city was left to ponder the strange passage of events unaided, and tall tales grew in abundance.
The most popular of these tales said the gods themselves were offended by the dark mage’s abuse of magic, and that he was stripped of his power and imprisoned deep beneath the earth. Many a power hungry apprentice took heart in the tale and searched greedily for the place of his imprisonment, so that they might use a freedom scroll and become the mage’s right hand.
Others said a great denizen of the Upper Planes, a planetar lord, was upset by the city’s great demonic infestation. He crossed into the prime material and slew the presumptuous mage, sending his soul along with his demon cohorts screaming back to the Lower Planes.
But a few knew the true story. They remained silent, respecting the parting wishes of those that did not care for the burdens of fame. Well, perhaps not so much “respecting” their wishes, as heeding dire threats of bodily harm if they did not cooperate. A stoic barbarian named Fallout comes to mind. Or death come swiftly from the shadows of the night, as Rail the assassin darkly promised. So it was that the heroes’ deed fell into myth and legend, while the heroes themselves went their separate ways, some to settle down, and others to continue adventuring in some other distant land.
But peace is always a transient thing, and eventually all things must come to an end. A decade has passed since Athlatka’s siege by demons, and only in the poorer sections of town do reminders remain of that cruel time. Since then, Athlatka’s paramilitary organizations have grown greatly in power. After the defeat of the demons, they stepped in to fill the power vacuum left by the government’s bumbling ineptitude. The government is now merely a puppet of these powerful groups, namely the Cowled Wizards and the Shadow Thieves.
In the aftermath of the devastation, the Cowled Wizards played on the outrage created by the popular imprisoned dark mage story. They used this leverage to strengthen their power over magic-users into a stranglehold. Now only members of the elite group have the right to practice magic. Not only that, but all magical items brought into or out of Amn must first be inspected for “evil magics.” Of course, a hefty “downpayment” will clear up most misunderstandings. Their coffers swollen with money from the magical item trade, the Cowled Wizards are more powerful than ever before. Enemies and dissidents quickly disappear, never to be seen again.
As the Cowled Wizards’s rule became increasingly corrupt and oppressive, people fled to the only other group influential enough to keep the wizards at bay: The Shadow Thieves. Their ranks swelled with new recruits like never before, and soon the great crime organization wielded as much power as the Cowled Wizards themselves. Smuggling magical items through the Cowled Wizards’ customs posts became as lucrative as the taxing itself. Over time, the Cowled Wizards and Shadow Thieves, in their opposition, achieved an uneasy balance.
Until now, that is...
Absorbed in an ultimately futile struggle against each other, an upstart mercenary group has steadily grown in membership right under their noses. Known only as the Black Helm, it started as a guild created to train Athlatka’s city guard. Their jurisdiction quickly grew more and more, until it now controls Amn’s entire military, excluding the majority of the battlemages, who remain affiliated to the Cowled Wizards. This guild, though as yet still no match for either the Cowled Wizards or the Shadow Thieves, threatens to tip the uneasy balance between the two supergroups.
Amn is at the brink of civil war. Its neighbors lick their chops in anticipation. And opportunistic adventurers and mercenaries alike come to Amn to pledge their allegiance for gold, glory, and adventure.
Magus stood in his laboratory, one of many pocket dimensions in his home, called the Rift. Seen from the outside, it is a great bluish-purple obelisk that reaches towards the sky, located a few miles from Athlatka atop a gaping cliff. But the colors are not stagnant. Rather, they swirl and pulsate with powerful magics, making the structure a grand sight indeed. It is a veritable fortress, with unauthorized entry nigh impossible to all but the most powerful of mortals. Even fewer could withstand the subsequent counterattack. But the structure itself is merely a shell, no more than a bland container compared to the miracles within. For the Rift is a place of magic incarnate, where magic is as plentiful as dirt and air anywhere else. It has no “rooms,” at least in the common sense of the word. It is a cluster of pocket dimensions, each of which expand infinitely to the eyes of the unwanted. But paths open to those that are welcome. In some ways as dynamic as Limbo, the pocket dimensions within are always expanding, catering to the various needs of its master and ruler. For a kingdom it could be called, with all of its space and guardians. Though a kingdom certainly not of this world...
Magus delicately prepared to mix the two potions, bracing himself for the possible explosion. But it would be worth the risk. A potion that could temporarily raise one’s casting level would be highly sought after...
DAMN YOU MAGUS! GET YOUR BLASTED PEONS AWAY FROM ME!
The two bottles go crashing to the floor, exploding in an enormous fireball that engulfs the lab. Potions dissolve and ancient texts disintegrate as the flames destroy everything they touch. When the smoke clears, however, no harm is done. The texts and potions are mysteriously back where they were, as if time itself had been reversed. All except for the two broken potion bottles on the floor. And Magus’s most irate expression.
*****
“DAMN YOU MAGUS! GET YOUR BLASTED PEONS AWAY FROM ME!” Tolgerias screamed as the assortment of hakeashar, nishruu, and invisible stalkers swarmed towards him. Furious beyond prudence, he fires off a Dragon Breath spell. The ensuing blast throws his assailants away, engulfed in terrible flames. He sniffs in condescending satisfaction, until the still flaming monsters begin to move towards him once again. For once, Tolgerias is speechless.
-You are not wanted here, Tolgerias. Leave from whence you came before we get angry.- comes a whisper on the wind.
“I’ll not be denied, again! I WILL see Magus!” Tolgerias prepares another spell to hopefully blast these fools into oblivion.
Silence!
Speech is abruptly beyond Tolgerias, and his wonderful spell fizzles. Turning, he glares daggers at Magus, who has just appeared.
The stare is returned tenfold, and suddenly Tolgerias thinks that upsetting Magus might not have been such a good idea...
Finally, Magus relents, and waves his hand in a gesture of dispelling. Might as well get this irritating meeting over with...
Finding the ability to speak returned once more, Tolgerias launches into a tirade. “You dare treat the Chair of the Cowled Wizards this way! I’ll have you-“
“You’ll have me what, Tolgerias?” Magus interrupts, already annoyed.
Tolgerias glares at Magus, then makes a visible effort to calm himself. That done, he speaks somewhat more civilly. “You owe a duty to your fellow wizards, Magus.”
“My FELLOW wizards!” Magus exclaims. “I am not and have never been party to such a corrupt organization of greedy fools!”
“Careful what you say, Magus. Such a statement could be...dangerous.”
“You dare threaten me? Here?” Magus exclaims, taken aback for a moment. He gazes intently at Tolgerias for a moment, before dismissing the idle threat. Then he sighs, turning his back. “What IS it that you could possibly want?” he seems to say to no one in particular.
Tolgerias hurries to seize the opportunity. “You know of the Black Helm, don’t you? Of course you do. The Cowled Wizards have been watching them for a while now, and we have decided that they have grown far too powerful for their own good. They are a danger not just to us, but to Amn itself.”
Seeing Magus’s obvious skepticism, Tolgerias rushes to explain. “Like it or not, there is a balance to be maintained. I admit the Cowled Wizards profit from this balance, but it is beneficial to all, regardless. Do you really want civil war? Like Tethyr?”
“I really couldn’t care less, if you would really like to know, Tolgerias.” But the statement is weak, even to Magus’s own ears. Magus throws up his hands, and turns back to face Tolgerias. “Okay, okay. I see your point. Now what do you want ME to do about it?”
“Simple really. Your influence is great in Amn, Magus. All you need to do is publicly affirm your staunch support of your old comrades, the Cowled Wizards. With your support behind us, the Black Helm will be critically weakened. We can brush them aside and not have to worry about them again.”
“Affirm my staunch support of my old comrades? You’ve got to be joking!” Magus exclaims. But a quick glance at Tolgerias reveals he’s most assuredly not. “Tolgerias, be reasonable. You know I could never openly support the Cowled Wizards. Think of something else.”
Tolgerias looks ready to argue, but he is interrupted by an anomaly forming in the air in front of him. A face appears, glimmering as if seen reflected on water. “Tolgerias, your assistance is required at headquarters. The Council of Wizards requires your immediate presence.”
Tolgerias swears softly under his breath and hesitates. He glares at Magus. As he vanishes in a teleport spell, he yells, “This isn’t over yet, Magus! You’ll help us whether you want to or not!”
With the Chair of the Cowled Wizards gone, Magus is left to ponder Tolgerias’s words. And damn it all if they don’t have the ring of truth! Blasted fools and their idiot intrigue...
The dusky light of the moon shrouded Virdel's dark skin from the common eye. Unless one looked closely, you could not even spot the Drow Outcast. In fact, his only give was the occasional glint of the Elven Chainmail adorning his form. He had been camped out here for the past three hours, being quite sure not to let his race be known by any, as Drow were not welcomed kindly in the surface world. He shifted slightly, trying eagerly to become comfortable. Not a sound was made, only a black mass moving.
The entrance to the government building was an easy enough target to watch. Large, and unmistakeable, especially after the carnage wrecked here so long ago when Aegis and Raistlin had over taken the city. He waited for a man to come to the doors. He waited many hours, but his chance, and stakeout finally paid off. He saw the robed man come to entrance of the building, and he made his move.
As slightly as a he watched, he made his way to the man's back. Before reaching the man, he spoke the words for a globe of darkness to shroud his attack, and drew his two scimitars. In one fluid, whirring motion, his disarmed the man of his magical staff, and cut the belt from his waste, causing the man to lose all his spell components. The man turned in the darkness, not knowing what was happening till it was too late. Virdel heard the muffled cries of the man as he dug his blade into the mans stomach, then slid his other across the man's throat. Using Drow proficiency, the man was killed with expert ease, and mastery.
Virdel murmered the words to dispel the globe, and looked to the corpse on the ground. He stood, and gathered anything magical, and worth selling, nothing incriminating of course. He then stood up, and with a grim smile, he turned on his heel, and walked from the corspe.
Virdel: Good-bye Tolgerias. I'm sorry to have done that, but my employer did not wish for you to have Magus.
Virdel turned the corner to leave the district as he heard the paniced cries from the gaurds returing from the patrol route. He understood little, but knew that they were shocked to see one of the Cowled Wizards highest ranking agents. He smiled at a job well done, and disappeared into the night...
After having their city nearly destroyed, and the majority enslaved, the people of Athkatla were more then happy to progress with their lives. Of course, after the city was restored, they gave many thanks to the brave heroes who saved their city from the Tyranny of Aegis and Raistlin. The most thanks being directed towards the valiant Arch-Magi, Magus. Little was realized of the true, and unlikely hero of Athkatla. The man Magus only knew to be the true hero. The one holding the tyrannical sway, Aegis, was the one who defeated Raistlin, in one final, glorious march towards him. Having the will despiration of a paladin wanting to redeem himself, he marched himself to Raistlin, and delivered the killing strike.
But, because of his past deeds, only Magus knows the turht to Raistlin's defeat, but does not relinquish the knowledge. For two reasons, to speak Aegis name in the streets of Athkatla means being arrested for talk of heresy, by not only the Cowled Wizards, but the newly formed Black Helm as well. The other a more personal note. Magus partially trained Aegis in the art of magic, and being unable to prevent his perversion to evil, feels partly responsible for the consequences. Since that day, he has strived to become a better Wizard for it, and a better judge of will of a person.
Little does the populace realize, but the deaths of both Aegis, and Raistlin Majere caught the attention of the gods of Faerun, which now watch the city with pique interest, waiting to see how the people work through their next challenge. But, in order to protect their own interests, they have given one mortal the power of an Avatar, in order to make sure no one attempts to ascend to omnipotent power again. As of now, their choice is a mystery to all, those who know of the gift spread rumours as to whom controls this new found power of the gods, and they know that in some way, that power will be the deciding factor in not only Athkatla's survival, but all of Amn.
It was a few hours before dawn. Xandax had been walking all night, and many nights before this one.
He preferred to travel by night – things seem more dangerous at night but you are not taken by surprise this way.
There was nothing for him, in the place formerly called home. His father had attacked the keep Xandax live in with his beloved mother and stepfather. He had failed to save neither his mother nor stepfather, but had been able to take revenge on his father by destroying him and his minions – may he rot. Now he walked around without much destination and purpose – he had not much to live for, but wanted to see Athkatla to find adventure.
Suddenly Xandax’ amulet started to glow eerie. “Take good care of this”, he remember his mothers words, ”it is powerful magic”. He had never fully understood magic; it was fascinating, especially when imbued in a good sword. He stopped moving, reaching for the hilt …… listening.
“What have we got here” a man emerged behind Xandax. Xandax slowly turned around – the man was not alone.
“Who are you” Xandax asked the man.
“ I’m here to help you – carry your gold, it looks heavy”
“It was”, Xandax thought smiling – he had a lot of gold, partly what he looted from his fathers tower and what he had gotten from his stepfathers keep.
“So you want my gold? – How do you plan to get it?”
“We’ll take it”
Suddenly 4 men, looking much alike was surrounded Xandax.
“Well then, take it!” Xandax said, while wielding his sword. The sword glowed, almost excited.
The men was nervous, they hadn’t expected a fight, but of course they hadn’t excepted anybody travelling alone at this hour.
“Get him” the leader called out and the other men moved in.
Canalising his powers Xandax went in to his preferred state, Enraged. Xandax cried out as he charged “To the death”
The battle was soon over.
“Better get some sleep” Xandax thought and lied down. A couple of hours after Xandax awoke due to traffic on the road, almost beside where he had camped for the morning.
He walked out to the road and looked.
“So this is Athkalta”
“Barkeep – give me an Ale”
Xandax was visiting the Copper Coronet.
“One gold piece, where’re you from stranger” the Barkeep asked.
“Far away, what is happening in town”
“It has been hectic times, there is….:” The barkeep didn’t finished his sentence because 2 hooded men walked into the bar. They looked hardy – wearing leather armor.
“Shadow Thieves” the barkeep whispered to Xandax “stay away from them”.
The approached a man in the corner of the bar.
“Come with us – Bloodscalp wants to talk to you” they said to the man.
The man was clearly nerveous.
“I’ve done nothing wrong” he said
“Nevertheless – you are coming with us”
“Is anybody going to help the man” Xandax asked the barkeep.
“Stay of this stranger – they are dangerous, it is a powerful group”
One of the hooded men heard Xandax and approached him.
“You wan’t something?” Xandax asked the hooded man, while he was slowly placing his hand on his swords hilt.
“You want to interfere with the Shadow Thieves??” the man asked menacing. “Do you have a problem”
“I have no problem with those, who doesn’t cause me problems. Now go away and rob a little ole lady so I can finish my ale”
The hooded man grew increasingly angry and was about to draw his weapon when the other man yelled out.
”Let’s go – we got what we came here for” he ran out into the street and disappeared with his target.
“Count your blessings stranger that you lives today. We’ll meet again, and you’ll not be so lucky again” He ran out into the street and disappeared where his partner had done the same.
“Whatever” Xandax said to himself.
““You make “friends” fast” the barkeep said to Xandax.
“One of my talents” Xandax replyed while finishing his ale and exited into the streets.
The city was buzzing with life – it did him good to see.
”Yeah – I’m going to like it here” Xandax thought “Now lets see if something fun is happening here”
“So this is Athkatla, Impressive, oh well might as well get this over with,” thinks Faisal.
It was dusk, and Faisal had been standing outside the city gate for the past 2 hours, waiting for the crowd to thin out. It happened everywhere, ever since he came up north, people always treated him like human scum just because he was from calim****e.
He never wished to cause any problems, but it was more often than not that he would have to fight for his right into the city, and this time he believed it would be worse. Since the guard consisted of only 2 now, this was the best time to enter the city.
“Halt” said the first guard with a long sword drawn.
“State your purpose, destination and origins,” said the second.
“Employment, the copper coronet, riba in calim****e”
“Riba??, hmmm name?”
“Al Faisal Zulfiqar”
The other guard also readies his weapon, a halberd.
“Al Faisal Zulfiqar, hmm, you the one who killed the calmi****e prince right??”
“well, n…”
“Some one is waiting for you inside, and you are late, they have been waiting for 3 hours now, now get going.”
Faisal shocked for a couple of minutes, stands still, then thinking about his good fortune hurries past the guards and head directly for the copper coronet.
Faisal arrives at the coronet at dark spending a great deal of time wandering the city, getting a layout of the area and if there was any employment. As he is walking towards the coronet, 4 figures break from the shadows behind them and start towards him.
One of the few abilities of his long dead father’s sword that are known to Faisal, is its ability to hint at danger, it glows green when the wielder of the sword is in danger. Seeing the sudden flash of green, Faisal decides not to chance any thing and makes a run for the coronet, better to fight them on my terms, but 2 men step in front of Faisal before he can finish the thought. Swords and stones cornered, what can I do now???
“You the calim****e?” asks one of the figures.
“yes….”
“Do you know who we are?”
“No”
“So you aren’t the one hired to kill the prince?”
“No”
“Then you are no use to us…”
The finality in the tone of voice, warned Faisal of his death, which he expected to come from behind. To avoid any hit, Faisal dives to the right, but not before an arrow pierces his tunic and embedded itself in his left shoulder.
Ignoring the pain, as survival was his aim at the moment, Faisal quickly draws his shield from his back, just in time as a lightening bolt crashes down from the sky. In a totally reflexive and protectionist move, Faisal ducks under his large shield, which is raised over his head, in the futile thinking that the shield would protect him from the lightening. He counts the seconds till it hits him, the lightening smashes against the shield driving Faisal further to the ground. Then suddenly there is no force what so ever. Bewildered, Faisal gets up and looks around, noticing now 3 figures standing and a horrific stench filling the alley.
Before Faisal could do anything else, another arrow pierces his right thigh, and the other two charge forward ready for blood. Faisal brings his shield to meet the first attackers mace, but the other’s short sword breaches his defensives and cuts deep into his waist. Thinking this is his last fight, as he won’t have time to use any of his cleric spells, Faisal starts slashing and stabbing in a wild haphazard manner, missing both the assailants who keep dancing around the wild attacks. By Tyromra’s luck, the sword cuts a rope, which was holding a great deal of bricks and rubble via a pulley system. The debris comes crashing down on the fighter with the mace, as well as blasting the other 3 from their feet.
Faisal collides with a wall losing his breath and breaking a few bones. The other two are in no better shape, Faisal with 2 arrows protruding from his body, a deep cut and broken bones and bruises, is in no shape to fight or even stand. As consciousness leaves Faisal, he sees the last 2 remaining figures starting towards him, and looks like reinforcements have also arrived, judging from the figures that have descended from the rooftops.
Then everything blacks out.
”What was that? sounds like combat?” Xandax noticed well know sounds just around the corner.
He ran around and saw 3 figures standing over a motionless man. The man looked strange to Xandax. A couple of bodies lies under some rubble.
“Hey – what is going on” Xandax yelled at the men.
”This is not your business” one of the figures called back.
“I’ve already heard that today – try something else” Xandax yelled back while readying his sword.
He walked towards the men.
The were uneasy – they hadn’t planned on anybody interfering.
The first figure readied an arrow.
“To the death” Xandax cried out and charged – feeling the benefits of his enrage. The arrow hit Xandax shield and another hit him in the leg, it didn’t slow him.
One good hit, and the first figure fell down. The third figure wielding a mace attacked to help his partners. He didn’t get far and was stuck down.
”One left” Xandax said to the last standing figure. Suddenly something hit Xandax. It was magic. It hurt but didn’t cause him to fall down. He struck down the last of the 3 men and turned around to see who it was that had attacked him magical. Nobody was there. No crowd or animals. Just Xandax and the stranger.
Xandax picked the stranger up.
“Better get you to a healer”
“I can heal him, it’ll cost you 500 GP” the Priest said to Xandax. It was lucky that there was a temple on top of the Coronet.
“Do it” Xandax paid the healer.
“You’d better get him to an inn also”
“Yeah yeah – just heal him”
The wounds on the man heal as the priest said mystical words and made gestures.
Soon the man was hole again. Xandax brought him down into the Copper Coronet again and rented a room.
Placing the man in the room so he could rest – Xandax took place down near the bar and waited.
“Nice town” he tough, “Been here 3 hour and already seen 2 attacks at people, something is going on”
Kierran was awaken by the sound of a human voice, faintly at first.
“Wake up, bub”
Somewhat dazed, Kierran tried replying “Wha…”
“You heard me…wake up,”
He could now feel a hand shaking his right shoulder violently. Kierran opened his eyes and saw the face of an old beggar, displaying a set of rotten teeth as he smiled at him. He took a quick look around him and that was when he realized that he was not in his beloved wilderness anymore. The greenery of the trees were now replaced by the greyness of what appeared to be old and ugly buildings. Questions began forming in his mind; where was he?What was he doing here? And most importantly, why couldn’t he remember anything from the past few days?
Another shook brought Kierran back to reality, and once again, he could see the face of the old beggar, though the smile has gone and is now replaced with a frown, “Are yer alright , bub? Ye look as if ye’ve been sleepin’ ‘ere fer days”
Kierran rubbed his head, “ Err…I think I’m fine. I can’t seem to remember what happened to me though…”
The smile returned to the old face, “Well, at least yer alright,” the old beggar turned around, “Ye can stay wit’ me fer now, if you like…”
Kierran was hesitant at first, but decided to stay with the old beggar for as long as he needed to gather more information about this ‘city’ and why he was here.
“Oh, by the way, can you please tell me where I’m in right now, kind sir?”
The beggar turned to face Kierran once again with a look of shock, “ Ye don’t know what city yer in??” he chuckled. “ why, this ‘ere’s Athkathla, the city of Coin. Ye really can’t remember a thing, can ye?”
Kierran replied, “I can’t, that’s why I’m thinking of staying here while I find out more about this….Athkathla “
The beggar continued chuckling, “ well, yer welcome to stay wit’ me here….” He paused for awhile before continuing, “Ye can call me Old Fitz, that’s what the young ones do”
Kierran shook Old Fitz’s hand, “Thank you, kind sir. I won’t forget your kindness”
Old Fitz snarled at him, “ Bah, ye can forget about my kindness now. It’s dinner time…” seeing the look on Kierran’s face, he added, “ Well, ye need skills to survive back ‘ere, an’ I think ye be havin’ none, so I’ll teach ye how to look fer yer own food ‘ere. Now, pay close attention to what I do, and don’t ye be runnin’ around ‘ere…tis a dangerous place if yer not familiar”
Kierran replied with a smile, “ I will, sir, I will”
As darkness closed around him he saw, with the help of his elven eyes, the faint outline of the evil mage, Nicros, something he needed to get rid of.
Behind the wizards black robe Thryn struck drawing his long sword down slicing his coller bone, tering({OOC sp?) his spine and poisoning the wound, the mage stumbled and Thryn took out his dagger and slid it through the bridge of his nose.
After searching the body he found a scroll, a message that said somthing about black helm.He took the cloak and, also he found a key which, he thought was from Athkathla."Long time no see," he murmered...
As Faisal wakes, he is met with a wave of nausea and exhaustion. But despite all of his attempts to slink back into unconsciousness, sleep eludes him. Remembering his wounds, he gingerly sits up. But a quick survey of his body reveals only scars and bruises in place of slashes and broken bones. Getting up, he almost wretches from the sudden blood rush to his head. He slowly walks over to the door, wincing in pain, but gradually he starts to feel a bit better. That any old thug with a knife and a will could end his life in his current condition totally escapes the young lad. Stumbling down the stairs, he sees a well-armored man (Xandax, but Faisal doesn’t know this) get up from the bar(???) and come quickly towards him.
*****
It was now almost morning. After Kierran’s awakening at dusk, Old Fitz had given him a crash course in slumming. It took Old Fitz a while to pound the lessons into his thick “tree-tangled head,” as Old Fitz remarked, but eventually Kierran got the gist of it. The beggar had laid down for a rest, and Kierran had now decided a little exploration of this strange place was in order.
It didn’t take long to find trouble...
A block away Kierran came upon what looked like a city guard. He wore a rusted ebony black helm, and full plate that looked like something from a goblin horde. Luckily Kierran didn’t call out, for seconds later thieves in black hoods appear from the shadows to surround the guard in a circle. They didn’t seem to notice Kierran.
“You have the papers, scum?” called out what looked to be the leader.
“Ye-yes sir,” the guard stammered. He handed them to the thief, who quickly scans them.
“Excellent,” he says in satisfaction. “You have done well. Keep it up, and the Shadow Thieves might accept you yet. You may leave.
The guard hesitates. “But she said I would be well rewarded,” he blurts.
“Oh, really? Is that so?” the thief quips, smiling. He nods his head, and the other thieves begin to tighten the circle. They begin drawing their blades.
“Did you really think you could play both sides for fools? And live? Feel the wrath of the Shadow Thieves!”
The Shadow Thieves close in slowly, hungrily. The guard whips out a halberd. Despite his timid manner, he holds it with the comfort of experience. He might even kill a few before he falls, Kierran thinks to himself. But if he’s going to the aid of either side, he better think fast.
The group of guards raced to the Government Building. But it was too late, the deed already done. The enlisted men were all in a panic, but behind his black visor, the guard captain smiled. He had deliberately kept the partrol out of the area, as ordered, to let the assassin do his dirty work.
A frantic enlisted man rushed up to him. “Should we inform the Cowled Wizards, sir?”
“Are you questioning my competence, soldier?” the captain barked.
“N-n-no sir!” the soldier stammered, slinking away before he got in real trouble.
“To the barracks, all of you! On the double!”
“YES SIR!” came the chorus. They saluted, and marched off, leaving the captain.
His soldiers gone, the captain kneeled down to inspect the body. Seeing a slight depression in the mud, a footprint left by the assassin, he hurriedly smoothed it out with his boot, muttering about incompetent fools. He never saw the well-placed flame arrow that took his life...
The invisible mage teleported away to inform his superiors of Tolgerias’s demise.
*****
“So the fool finally got himself killed. Idiot.” muttered Council of Wizards member Sarak. An impatient man in his middle years, despite his apparent lower rank he was effectively Tolgerias’s superior, though the vain Tolgerias would never have admitted it. “Now we’ll have to get somebody else to deal with that arrogant bastard, Magus.”
Looking up, Sarak saw Lazal the Red’s impatience. Sarak sighs in frustration. “Superb work, as always, Lazal. Corellan notes your competence. Here is your reward.” Sarak pulls a key from his robe and unlocks a cabinet nearby, pulling out a white and yellow bracer before closing it. A fair aura of magic emanates from it.
“A simple bracelet of protection! Bah! This is not worth my precious time!” Lazal fumes.
“You’ll take it and be happy with it, Lazal! Only members have access to our finest items. Now get out! I have work to do. I have to find a replacement for that blasted idiot Tolgerias...”
Mumbling obscenities, Lazal the Red storms out the door. Already, a plan of retribution is forming in his mind. He’s not nicknamed Lazal the RED for nothing, after all...
*****
“Tolgerias...dead? How could a Cowled Wizard be killed out in the open like that? Don’t you protect your own?” Magus spoke incredulously.
“That’s none of your concern.” Sarak replied gratingly. Damn Corellan! Why in the Nine Hells did HE have to deal with this prick?! Besides, this Rift of his was giving him the creeps! Guardians all around, and most he couldn’t even see! He had an itch to flush some of them out with a Horrid Wilting...but that would solve nothing. (sigh)
“My contact is dead, Sarak. If you want my help, I want some answers.”
Sarak fought down the urge to wring Magus’s bloody neck. Suddenly, Magus’s piercing blue eyes caught his attention. Oh damn, that’s right, he’s a frickin psionic, Sarak abruptly remembered. Seeing Magus’s expression, he wasn’t too happy with Sarak’s inner antics.
Sarak coughed. “Um, maybe I should come another time, yes? One when we’re each less busy. I’ll just be leaving now.” With the unpleasantries over with, Sarak quickly teleported out of there. Boy, Corellan wouldn’t be happy about this...
*****
Magus watched the fool leave with disgust. What nerve! To come into his home and insult him! The gall!
“Magus, you’re being too impatient again...” came a soft, lovely voice right next to his ear. Turning, he grabbed hold of the intruder. Aerie giggled. “Just because you can read their thoughts doesn’t mean it’s the same as speech. It’s not fair to judge others that way.”
“But...” Magus trailed off as Aerie put on that mask of understanding. “Oh, I know, but I don’t suffer fools like Sarak gladly. You wouldn’t believe the disgusting images he conjured up-“
“So what do you plan to do?” Aerie interrupted, changing the subject and returning Magus’s mind to the point of all of this. “Are you going to help them?”
Magus pauses. “Despite their corruption, foolishness, and utter lack of tact, what they say has truth. I can’t stand aside and watch from a distance, like some conceited god, while Amn descends into a hideous revolution. But for now, I will watch and wait. Perhaps one of the guilds will prove to be the lesser evil. In that case, I will swing my aid to that side. If not, I’ll lend my support to the one that looks the strongest, in the hope that not only it could restore order, but that I could nudge it along a better path. If that means dealing with the incorrigibles within in a “permanent” manner, then so be it.”
Aerie nods. “Very well, my love. As always, I’ll support whatever decision you make.”
“Thank you.” Releasing Aerie with a sigh, he turns to one of his nearby servants. “Clean up that little mess on the floor in my lab. And tell my guards to turn back anymore visitors today. I’m ready for this day to be over...”
As you wish, master.
*****
Virdel basked himself in the shadows of his little corner in one of Athkatla's many streets. It had only been a few hours since he removed Tolgerias from the equation, and received his payment. A small, obsidion stone. Even though it didn't look like anyting of value, the stone held great powers, namely the ability to summon an Elemental of his chosing once a day. A powerful payment indeed. He smiled, and patted his pocket that enclosed his new posseision, then let his hand casually drop to the hilt of his Scimitar. He also propped his legs up against the wall opposite to him, and leaned back in the narrow niche he had found to fufill his next mission.
Even though his next mission involved no actual fighting, he did it none the less, for he did not wish to displease his "current" employer. He sat, and turned his head to a portian of the abondoned street. Noticing a few beggers, one who looked a little well too dressed to be a begger (Kierran) he shruged it off, and noted it as just a man who had lost all his ownings lately. Besides, he was here to insure that the meeting went as planned. He watched casually, again making no noise what-so-ever.
After a few more minutes of patient waiting, the man had arrived. He saw the rusted Black Helm that signified him as being the man he waited for. He also saw the group of Theives emerge from the shadows of the street, and surround the one man.
"You have the papers, Scum?" Virdel watched what he assumed to be the leader. He grinned. Scouting missions were always easy, but so much more entertaining when he was able to be a part of them. He waiting, hopeing he would be.
“Ye-yes sir,” the guard stammered. He handed them to the thief, who quickly scaned them over. Virdel's grin turned sour, as he saw the gaurds cowerdice. If this had been the Under Dark, and those men Drow, he would've have been struck down where he stood for showing fear. Not a good sign for his employers intentions.
“Excellent,” The lead Theif said in satisfaction. “You have done well. Keep it up, and the Shadow Thieves might accept you yet. You may leave." For a breif moment, Virdel thought that the gaurd would actually get away with it, but his impression quickly turned.
The guard hesitated. “But she said I would be well rewarded,” Fool! Though Virdel to himself. He questioned a Shadow Thief, when surrounded by the buggers. His hand loosed his two Scimitars, and he began to ponder if he really should get himself involved in this. After all, he was only told to watch the engagment.
“Oh, really? Is that so?” the thief quiped, smiling. He noded his head, and the other thieves began to tighten the circle. They began drawing their blades. Virdel watched as the situation became worse. Again he entertained the thought of intervening.
“Did you really think you could play both sides for fools? And live? Feel the wrath of the Shadow Thieves!” With that comment, Virdel stood from his alcove, and drew both Scimitars, but remaining in the shadows. He waited to see if the gaurd could not fight his way out of this one. He would wait to see if he was needed. It was at this point, his eye caught the well-dressed beggar again. He saw him react strangely to this encounter. He acted like more then just a beggar. Perhaps Virdel wouldn't have to be involved. He decided to wait until aboslutly sure of the stiuation. He remained with his blades drawn, but stood in the shadows, as not to drow attention to himself...
Xandax was sitting thinking. His childhood had been privileged, his stepfather had been a lord over a substantial area of land until his real father had taken his revenge over Xandax’ mother and stepfather.
After this Xandax had destroyed this evil necromancer and his minions. He was 15 years old then - how long time ago it seemed, almost as if he had read about it in a book.
The last 10 years Xandax had been roaming the lands looking for adventure, taking him further and further westwards through lands like Cormyr and through great plains.
He had seen plenty of battles and overcome plenty of attackers, much of this only possible due to the canalising of his powers, this enrage as he had heard people calling it, making him oblivious to his own welfare but striking fear in his opponents. But still, such an attack as he had seen in this city was new to him. Xandax was a warrior – honour bound in battle.
This attacks seemed cowardly like normal brigands attacking people for money, but still there were something more to it. Most ordinary thieves would run when confronted. These figures that had jumped the stranger, they seem annoyed that yet another had seen them, confronted them.
Still in his thoughts, Xandax saw the young man slowly stumbling down the stairs. It was obvious he didn’t feel good, but then again – he had been inflicted with wounds that would have killed many a untrained warrior. Xandax quickly stood up and walked towards the man stumbling down the stairs.
Xandax brought him to a table and place a dish of unrecognisable food and a mug of ale in front of him.
“How do you feel? – You really should get some more rest before getting up”
“My name is Xandax by the way”
Well, there is the story as is.
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 ]
@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 ]
Lost Souls: A bereft lover. A masterless familiar. Friends gone their separate ways. Time marches on, and destiny heralds the meeting of comrades old and new. Can they find what they're seeking? Or will the search bring them only more pain?
@Xandax: Why? What happened to Fas? You can go ahead and have your character say what you want to Faisal. If Fas doesn't get here by the time I'm ready to post, I'll just cover for him.
@craig: Sorry. I did the best I could. I had trouble reading your post. Besides, many mages wear black robes, especially necromancers. We could say he was a member of the Black Helm that joined up with them to spy for the Shadow Thieves.
@craig: Sorry. I did the best I could. I had trouble reading your post. Besides, many mages wear black robes, especially necromancers. We could say he was a member of the Black Helm that joined up with them to spy for the Shadow Thieves.
Lost Souls: A bereft lover. A masterless familiar. Friends gone their separate ways. Time marches on, and destiny heralds the meeting of comrades old and new. Can they find what they're seeking? Or will the search bring them only more pain?
{ Don't know him IRL, so I wouldn't know.Originally posted by Magus:
<STRONG>@Xandax: Why? What happened to Fas? You can go ahead and have your character say what you want to Faisal. If Fas doesn't get here by the time I'm ready to post, I'll just cover for him.
<snip></STRONG>
Well it seems that it is Fas' character that might have something to say about him coming to Athkatla.
My character has already sated he is "just" (at this time) looking for adventure/"fun" - but I need something/someone to connect me to a guild, and reading Fas' characterdescription it seemed that he was the one.
BTW what does OOC means? }
[ 07-10-2001: Message edited by: Xandax ]
Insert signature here.
{sorry folks exam week, been busy with that, won't happen again, point one thing out as well is that i am new to Athkathla as well, but i will think of away of getting into the black helm, leave that to me.
Question: Wouldn't it be easier if Thryn, could help in some way?}
Head pounding from the sudden blood rush, Faisal stumbles down the stairs, but catches hims on the railing before he reaches the bottom. He scans the room and sees a young man though older than him walking towards him with something in a plat and a mug.
Faisal too tired to run or do anything, lets the man lead him to a chair
“How do you feel? – You really should get some more rest before getting up”
“My name is Xandax by the way”
Faisal, extremely suspicious of the stranger refuses the food and drink and stares directly at Xandax and demands:
"Why are you providing me with food and ale?"
But before Xandax could answer, Faisal unable to resist the temptation of the food, attacks the items and devoirs them in a matter of minutes.
Pausing for a couple of minutes faisal decides to think. He has provided me with food, and since i am not dead, it was not poisioned and thus safe.
"Now that i am not dead, thank you for the the non-posioned food. I guess you must be the one who saved me from the attackers For that i thank you. And you must also have healed me for that i am indebted to you."
Putting his hand out; "I am Faisal Zulfikar from Calim****e well met Xandax.
Though i must warn you, in saving me you have made dangerous enemies in Athkathla.
It was rumored in Calim****e that the Shadow Theives had something to do with the murder of a Prince.
This proves the rumor.
They thought i was the assisan they had acquired.
I noticed that they were theives from their attire, and only the shadow thieves will so freely attack someone in this city, from what i have heard.
Again i thank you.
And what are you doing in the city of coin?"
Question: Wouldn't it be easier if Thryn, could help in some way?}
Head pounding from the sudden blood rush, Faisal stumbles down the stairs, but catches hims on the railing before he reaches the bottom. He scans the room and sees a young man though older than him walking towards him with something in a plat and a mug.
Faisal too tired to run or do anything, lets the man lead him to a chair
“How do you feel? – You really should get some more rest before getting up”
“My name is Xandax by the way”
Faisal, extremely suspicious of the stranger refuses the food and drink and stares directly at Xandax and demands:
"Why are you providing me with food and ale?"
But before Xandax could answer, Faisal unable to resist the temptation of the food, attacks the items and devoirs them in a matter of minutes.
Pausing for a couple of minutes faisal decides to think. He has provided me with food, and since i am not dead, it was not poisioned and thus safe.
"Now that i am not dead, thank you for the the non-posioned food. I guess you must be the one who saved me from the attackers For that i thank you. And you must also have healed me for that i am indebted to you."
Putting his hand out; "I am Faisal Zulfikar from Calim****e well met Xandax.
Though i must warn you, in saving me you have made dangerous enemies in Athkathla.
It was rumored in Calim****e that the Shadow Theives had something to do with the murder of a Prince.
This proves the rumor.
They thought i was the assisan they had acquired.
I noticed that they were theives from their attire, and only the shadow thieves will so freely attack someone in this city, from what i have heard.
Again i thank you.
And what are you doing in the city of coin?"
For what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and to melt into the sun? - Khalil Gibran
"We shall fight on the beaches. We shall fight on the landing grounds. We shall fight in the fields, and in the streets, we shall fight in the hills. We shall never surrender!" - Winston Churchill
"We shall fight on the beaches. We shall fight on the landing grounds. We shall fight in the fields, and in the streets, we shall fight in the hills. We shall never surrender!" - Winston Churchill
Having watched the amazing specticle put on by the surround gaurd, Virdel's interest had been perked. As he did not have to report back to his employer immediatly, he decided to follow the Man as he took off down the street. As he made his way down to the street, his keen Drow eyes caught, even if barely, the cloaked figure on a nearby roof. This struck him as odd. If it were a Shadow Thief up there, then why had he not interfered. His interest quickly shifted. Virdel knew how to find the gaurd later, this theif was now his target.
Even though he would lose precious time, Virdel made his way back to the roof tops, to better follow the figure. By the time he made it back up, he needed a moment to get a bead on the swift moving figure in the distance. It took all but a thought, and Virdel was off sprintng, and jumping along the many roofs of the city. This was how it went for several minutes. The way the figure was moving tipped Virdel off that his pursuit was known, and that he was trying to be lost. He was not so eager to lose his target.
When Virdel saw the figure jump to the ground, he quickly followed suit, leaping to the cobblestone road. As he landed, he drew both scimitars, and stalked towards where he saw the figure land. He was met by nothing but emptiness, and a dead end. Virdel cursed himself for his foolishness, and quickly spun on his heel, kicking up some cobblestones in the process, bringing his scimitars up in an X form, barly parrying the incoming short sword from the cloaked figure. He listend to metal reverbate in the alleyway, and realized of the skill of his oppenant. He had lured him into a dead end, and an area which sound was no one's ally. Virdel kicked back from his assailent, and held his dual blades defensivly, not wanting to strike first. He saw the man smile, but was unable to make out his features. Any thought of identifying the man faded when he made another attempt to strike Virdel. Another attack that was easily blocked with Virdel's left Scimitar. In reprisal, he slashed towards the man's gullate with his right scimitar. The man slid to the left, narrowly avoiding the blade. In his dodge, though, a small dagger protruded from his sleeve. Virdel's eyes widened as he saw the glint of metal. Too late. The man tossed the dagger through the air, towards Virdel's moving body. If only virdel had caught it a few moments earlier. He felt the cold steel cut through his left arm, not enough to incapcitate him, but enough to draw his attention away, and allow the man to get away.
Virdel looked up, and attempted to find the man, but he had already made his way out of the alley, and back to roofs, and his original destination. Virdel cursed himself again, and placed his scimitars back in their scabbards. He slowly made his way out of the alley, and down the cobblestone road, back to his employer.
@Magus: how is that? Add a very talented thief into the equation, and make Virdel seep further into the middle of everything.
Even though he would lose precious time, Virdel made his way back to the roof tops, to better follow the figure. By the time he made it back up, he needed a moment to get a bead on the swift moving figure in the distance. It took all but a thought, and Virdel was off sprintng, and jumping along the many roofs of the city. This was how it went for several minutes. The way the figure was moving tipped Virdel off that his pursuit was known, and that he was trying to be lost. He was not so eager to lose his target.
When Virdel saw the figure jump to the ground, he quickly followed suit, leaping to the cobblestone road. As he landed, he drew both scimitars, and stalked towards where he saw the figure land. He was met by nothing but emptiness, and a dead end. Virdel cursed himself for his foolishness, and quickly spun on his heel, kicking up some cobblestones in the process, bringing his scimitars up in an X form, barly parrying the incoming short sword from the cloaked figure. He listend to metal reverbate in the alleyway, and realized of the skill of his oppenant. He had lured him into a dead end, and an area which sound was no one's ally. Virdel kicked back from his assailent, and held his dual blades defensivly, not wanting to strike first. He saw the man smile, but was unable to make out his features. Any thought of identifying the man faded when he made another attempt to strike Virdel. Another attack that was easily blocked with Virdel's left Scimitar. In reprisal, he slashed towards the man's gullate with his right scimitar. The man slid to the left, narrowly avoiding the blade. In his dodge, though, a small dagger protruded from his sleeve. Virdel's eyes widened as he saw the glint of metal. Too late. The man tossed the dagger through the air, towards Virdel's moving body. If only virdel had caught it a few moments earlier. He felt the cold steel cut through his left arm, not enough to incapcitate him, but enough to draw his attention away, and allow the man to get away.
Virdel looked up, and attempted to find the man, but he had already made his way out of the alley, and back to roofs, and his original destination. Virdel cursed himself again, and placed his scimitars back in their scabbards. He slowly made his way out of the alley, and down the cobblestone road, back to his employer.
@Magus: how is that? Add a very talented thief into the equation, and make Virdel seep further into the middle of everything.
"Why are you providing me with food and ale?" the man had asked, but without waiting for an answer he had all but devoured it.
“Stupid” Xandax thought – of course he would be vary of people he didn't know after what just had happen to him.
Xandax placed both hands on top of the table to show his good intentions.
"Now that i am not dead, thank you for the the non-posioned food. I guess you must be the one who saved me from the attackers For that i thank you. And you must also have healed me for that i am indebted to you."
"I am Faisal Zulfikar from Calim****e well met Xandax. Though i must warn you, in saving me you have made dangerous enemies in Athkathla. It was rumored in Calim****e that the Shadow Theives had something to do with the murder of a Prince.
This proves the rumor.
They thought i was the assisan they had acquired.
I noticed that they were theives from their attire, and only the shadow thieves will so freely attack someone in this city, from what i have heard.
Again i thank you.
And what are you doing in the city of coin?"
"Shadow thieves?" Xandax thought – "One would suspect they have their own assassins, why would they need an outsider – even for such a profiled murder, there was more to this than meets the eye."
"Oh were are my manners" Xandax said "forgive me, it has been some time since I’ve been in civilized company. My name is Xandax, that I’ve already said, my home is...was in Daggerdale, far to the east.
My business in this city – well, my business is adventure, and through out my travels I’ve heard that this city would be a good place to find some fun. I didn’t expect, though, to just fall into such acts as what happened to you.
As for me making more enemies, don’t worry about that – I’ve never like thieves in the first place – always sneaking around trying to hit you in the back – they lack the honour that separate the men from the thieves." Xandax smiled.
"So what brings you to this city – well except for making enemies with the thieves? Are you here to investigate the murder plans of this Prince of yours or some other grave matter, or are you also just looking for fun and adventure."
"Wait" Xandax said quietly while turning his head and looking towards a cloaked man (Thryn) "our words are not private"
{OOC: And thus Thryn enters the picture
Hope your exames went good Fas }
“Stupid” Xandax thought – of course he would be vary of people he didn't know after what just had happen to him.
Xandax placed both hands on top of the table to show his good intentions.
"Now that i am not dead, thank you for the the non-posioned food. I guess you must be the one who saved me from the attackers For that i thank you. And you must also have healed me for that i am indebted to you."
"I am Faisal Zulfikar from Calim****e well met Xandax. Though i must warn you, in saving me you have made dangerous enemies in Athkathla. It was rumored in Calim****e that the Shadow Theives had something to do with the murder of a Prince.
This proves the rumor.
They thought i was the assisan they had acquired.
I noticed that they were theives from their attire, and only the shadow thieves will so freely attack someone in this city, from what i have heard.
Again i thank you.
And what are you doing in the city of coin?"
"Shadow thieves?" Xandax thought – "One would suspect they have their own assassins, why would they need an outsider – even for such a profiled murder, there was more to this than meets the eye."
"Oh were are my manners" Xandax said "forgive me, it has been some time since I’ve been in civilized company. My name is Xandax, that I’ve already said, my home is...was in Daggerdale, far to the east.
My business in this city – well, my business is adventure, and through out my travels I’ve heard that this city would be a good place to find some fun. I didn’t expect, though, to just fall into such acts as what happened to you.
As for me making more enemies, don’t worry about that – I’ve never like thieves in the first place – always sneaking around trying to hit you in the back – they lack the honour that separate the men from the thieves." Xandax smiled.
"So what brings you to this city – well except for making enemies with the thieves? Are you here to investigate the murder plans of this Prince of yours or some other grave matter, or are you also just looking for fun and adventure."
"Wait" Xandax said quietly while turning his head and looking towards a cloaked man (Thryn) "our words are not private"
{OOC: And thus Thryn enters the picture
Hope your exames went good Fas
}Insert signature here.
{OOC } I'm exhausted. As much I'd like to stay and write, I need some sleep. I'll post as soon as I get home tomorrow.
@Xandax + Fas: Nice conversation you have going there And good luck on your exams, Fas.
@Aegis: That's very similar to what I would have done if you pursued the thief. Nice guesswork there. Glad you got the hint that the thief was pretty good.
} I'm exhausted. As much I'd like to stay and write, I need some sleep. I'll post as soon as I get home tomorrow.@Xandax + Fas: Nice conversation you have going there
And good luck on your exams, Fas.@Aegis: That's very similar to what I would have done if you pursued the thief. Nice guesswork there. Glad you got the hint that the thief was pretty good.
Lost Souls: A bereft lover. A masterless familiar. Friends gone their separate ways. Time marches on, and destiny heralds the meeting of comrades old and new. Can they find what they're seeking? Or will the search bring them only more pain?
Faisal, turns his head to follow Xandax gaze.
Which falls on a older, who appears to be staring at this mug, but faisal agrees that his listening to their conversation.
"So what do we do?, if we stop talking he will become suscipious and leave, and i for one want to know what is he so interested in"
whispers Faisal.
So taking the initiative faisal starts on his basic history.
"I for one have come for a job, i need coins. Back home, my mother owns a farm which is not doing so well, and i have a couple of younger brothers and sisters, not to mention other family relatives.
It is common in Calim****e to have huge families living together, in our case it helps with the chores of the farm.
Me being the oldest, i decided to get a job or find some band i could join to earn coins, fame and glory if possible.
And where better to find extra coins than in the City of coins?
I have only been on the road for 2 years, presently i am 20 winters."
Thryn hearing this news thanks his lucky stars and stares at his mug in deep thought.
{thanks guys, last exam tomorrow after that FREEE!!!!!!!!!}
Which falls on a older, who appears to be staring at this mug, but faisal agrees that his listening to their conversation.
"So what do we do?, if we stop talking he will become suscipious and leave, and i for one want to know what is he so interested in"
whispers Faisal.
So taking the initiative faisal starts on his basic history.
"I for one have come for a job, i need coins. Back home, my mother owns a farm which is not doing so well, and i have a couple of younger brothers and sisters, not to mention other family relatives.
It is common in Calim****e to have huge families living together, in our case it helps with the chores of the farm.
Me being the oldest, i decided to get a job or find some band i could join to earn coins, fame and glory if possible.
And where better to find extra coins than in the City of coins?
I have only been on the road for 2 years, presently i am 20 winters."
Thryn hearing this news thanks his lucky stars and stares at his mug in deep thought.
{thanks guys, last exam tomorrow after that FREEE!!!!!!!!!}
For what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and to melt into the sun? - Khalil Gibran
"We shall fight on the beaches. We shall fight on the landing grounds. We shall fight in the fields, and in the streets, we shall fight in the hills. We shall never surrender!" - Winston Churchill
"We shall fight on the beaches. We shall fight on the landing grounds. We shall fight in the fields, and in the streets, we shall fight in the hills. We shall never surrender!" - Winston Churchill
Still listining to Faisals story, Xandax tried to size the cloaked man up.
"Hmmm" Xandax thought while his hand slowly moving down to the hilt of his sword, as to just reassure himself that it still was there – he felt the warmth in his hand.
"i decided to get a job or find some band i could join to earn coins, fame and glory if possible.
And where better to find extra coins than in the City of coins?" Faisal had said.
"Well, tying to feed ones family is a worthy cause" Xandax told Faisal.
"If you’d like I could accompany you, at least for some time.
Have you any idea where to go or whom to see?" Xandax asked Faisal.
Turning his eyes towards the cloaked man.
"Maybe we should confront him – it is important not to be caught of guard, and it is better to take actions in to ones own hands than waiting for them to take place on their own" Xandax whispered to Faisal.
"Or maybe this stranger is in need of help, this seems like the city where people come for solving their problems."
"Hmmm" Xandax thought while his hand slowly moving down to the hilt of his sword, as to just reassure himself that it still was there – he felt the warmth in his hand.
"i decided to get a job or find some band i could join to earn coins, fame and glory if possible.
And where better to find extra coins than in the City of coins?" Faisal had said.
"Well, tying to feed ones family is a worthy cause" Xandax told Faisal.
"If you’d like I could accompany you, at least for some time.
Have you any idea where to go or whom to see?" Xandax asked Faisal.
Turning his eyes towards the cloaked man.
"Maybe we should confront him – it is important not to be caught of guard, and it is better to take actions in to ones own hands than waiting for them to take place on their own" Xandax whispered to Faisal.
"Or maybe this stranger is in need of help, this seems like the city where people come for solving their problems."
Insert signature here.
"After saving my life, i will be honored to travel with you.
It would also be safer, you know safety in numbers and all that." says faisal.
"Hmmm i have no idea who to meet, this is my first day in Athkathla so your guess is as good as mine.
But i have heard there is this group the Black Helm which are hiring and paying well.
There are other small groups.
But the shadow theives and Cowled Wizards are the real players in the city"
Confused at the knowledge the youngster has about a city he has just entered, Xandax asks:
"How do you know so much?"
"well like i said the shadow theives were rumored to have killed the prince, so there was a wealth of information about the city and region on everybody's mouths esp if you get them drunk" replied Faisal smiling.
"Also i thought it would be safer to know about the city and region in which i will be working.
So i did a bit of research, cost me alot but it was worth it i think."
Following Xandax's gaze and taking his words, faisal thinks, that may not be a bad idea at all.
Xandax is an experienced fighter, he knows what he is doing, thinks Faisal.
"I agree yes, lets go confront him but with mugs and not with swords as i am in no position to provide you with any help whatsoever if this turns ugly!" replies faisal.
Faisal smirks and says "Plus i would like a bit of rest before the next attack if you don't mind "
[ 07-11-2001: Message edited by: Fas ]
It would also be safer, you know safety in numbers and all that." says faisal.
"Hmmm i have no idea who to meet, this is my first day in Athkathla so your guess is as good as mine.
But i have heard there is this group the Black Helm which are hiring and paying well.
There are other small groups.
But the shadow theives and Cowled Wizards are the real players in the city"
Confused at the knowledge the youngster has about a city he has just entered, Xandax asks:
"How do you know so much?"
"well like i said the shadow theives were rumored to have killed the prince, so there was a wealth of information about the city and region on everybody's mouths esp if you get them drunk" replied Faisal smiling.
"Also i thought it would be safer to know about the city and region in which i will be working.
So i did a bit of research, cost me alot but it was worth it i think."
Following Xandax's gaze and taking his words, faisal thinks, that may not be a bad idea at all.
Xandax is an experienced fighter, he knows what he is doing, thinks Faisal.
"I agree yes, lets go confront him but with mugs and not with swords as i am in no position to provide you with any help whatsoever if this turns ugly!" replies faisal.
Faisal smirks and says "Plus i would like a bit of rest before the next attack if you don't mind "
[ 07-11-2001: Message edited by: Fas ]
For what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and to melt into the sun? - Khalil Gibran
"We shall fight on the beaches. We shall fight on the landing grounds. We shall fight in the fields, and in the streets, we shall fight in the hills. We shall never surrender!" - Winston Churchill
"We shall fight on the beaches. We shall fight on the landing grounds. We shall fight in the fields, and in the streets, we shall fight in the hills. We shall never surrender!" - Winston Churchill
"I agree yes, lets go confront him but with mugs and not with swords as i am in no position to provide you with any help whatsoever if this turns ugly!" replies Faisal.
Faisal smirks and says "Plus i would like a bit of rest before the next attack if you don't mind”
“Hmm – good idea” Xandax said acknowledging. “No need in causing excessive problems already.”
“Barkeep” Xandax called to the barkeeper “Bring us 3 mugs of your finest ale”
The barkeep came down with the mugs of ale – Xandax payed the barkeeper.
“By the way, my good man, have you seen this person before?” Xandax asked the barkeeper while discreetly pointing towards the cloaked stranger
“No, Sir, I have not.” He replied.
“Thanks” Xandax gave the barkeep an extra gold piece.
“So he is not a familiar face around these parts – that favors us a little more” Xandax mumbled.
Turning his eyes to Faisal “Okay – lets go talk to this stranger, and see if we can get information from him” Xandax said while getting out of his chair.
[ 07-11-2001: Message edited by: Xandax ]
Faisal smirks and says "Plus i would like a bit of rest before the next attack if you don't mind”
“Hmm – good idea” Xandax said acknowledging. “No need in causing excessive problems already.”
“Barkeep” Xandax called to the barkeeper “Bring us 3 mugs of your finest ale”
The barkeep came down with the mugs of ale – Xandax payed the barkeeper.
“By the way, my good man, have you seen this person before?” Xandax asked the barkeeper while discreetly pointing towards the cloaked stranger
“No, Sir, I have not.” He replied.
“Thanks” Xandax gave the barkeep an extra gold piece.
“So he is not a familiar face around these parts – that favors us a little more” Xandax mumbled.
Turning his eyes to Faisal “Okay – lets go talk to this stranger, and see if we can get information from him” Xandax said while getting out of his chair.
[ 07-11-2001: Message edited by: Xandax ]
Insert signature here.
@Fas+Xan: Are you guys in the Copper Coronet? I'm going to assume so.
Virdel walked quietly int the Copper Coronet, not drawing much, if any, attention to himself. He hhad his cloak drawn up, and had his face covered quite well, and unless someone really took notice, then his race would remain hidden, and all the better. Upon his shoulder, over his cloak, he had white band of cloth, stained red with his blood, a common sight in this bar, so he had no worry of that. He made his way the bar nimbly, avoiding contact with all of the patrons, and avoiding the tables whenever possible. He sat on one of the creaking stools, his face still down, and ordered a glass of wine. Off to the side he saw two man approach a solitary man drinking (Fas+Xan). He kept one eye on them, just out of rudementry curiosity, especially seeing that both had been in a recent battle, obvious because of the marks upon the one man.
His thoughts were interupted as the husky bartender tapped him on the shoulder. Virdel turned to the bartender, but kept his face hidden still. The man placed the glass of wine on the counter, and coughed gruffly. Virdel cought the idea, and reached into his pouch, and withdrew two coppers, and threw them onto the counter. He lifted his wine glss, and taking a sip, he turned back to the room. He watched, and listened with casual interest, not wanting to start trouble right now. He casually sipped his wine, unknowing of what thebartender was currently doing...
*****
Bartender: "I'telling, ye! That's a damned Drow in there!" The bartender spoke panicked, and obviously quite confused. "We should call the guards! And da'.... Da'Black Helm! We can't have a bloody Drow running around da' place!"
Employer: "Patience, Intid. Thank you for bringing this to my attention. I will aprise the approprieate authorities of this. Go back to work." Intid's employer turned, and casually his made out of the back of the Copper Coronet.
That put some confidence back in the husky Bartender, buthe then realized he would have to deal with the Drow for at least another twenty minutes. He sighed, and wiped the sweat of his greasy brow. He took a second to regain his composure, and stepped back into the main room...
*****
Virdel remained sitting at the counter, completly unaware that the bartender had managed to get a look at his face, either way, he was concerned at what he didn't know. His coming had been that of a dual purpose. Not only was he here to try and relax from his encounter with the theif, he was here to find potential clients for his employer. That is why he continuelly found his gaze drawn but to the two men he had seen when he first entered the bar.
Again his thoughts were interupted by the bartender. Virdel turned to meet him, cloak down.
Virdel: "What now...." Somewhat annoyed by this interuption, Virdel was in no mood to be trifled with, or to be even remotly pleasant.
Intid: "Ye be wanting another drink?" As the bartender spoke, Virdel caught the slight quiver in his voice, and realized what had happen.
He swore to himself, and stood up from the stool. That was twice today he had let himself slip! He dropped the half full glass of wine, letting it crash to the floor, and drawing undue attention. His hand's dropped to his scimitar blades, and loosing them from their scabberds, he turn quickly on his heel, and made his way to the door. As he swung the door open, he was met with the fine armour of a gaurd of the Black Helm!
Virdel: "Damnit!"
He, luckily, he surprised the man, which gave Virdel the advantage. He slashed his left scimitar at the man's exposed kidney, as it was only a half-plate being employed in these three particular men. He felt the blade connect, but wasted no time to see what damge it had down. He jumped back again, and took off through the corwded bar, no alive with cheering and provokation. These men were riled up at the current prospect of a fight, and bets could be heard being placed. Virdel ran his way through the bar, and to the kitchen, and back door, were he was met by two more gaurds. Bad idea, he thought to himself, and turned as quickly as he came. His only other option was upstairs.
Virdel bounded his way through the room again, and up the stairs, where at least if a fight was forced, he could something of an advantage. Behind him, two gaurds pursued. Virdel, knowing this, took advantage of it, and stopped dead at the top of the stairs. With his two scimitars, he swung them high, and braught them down on the unsuspecting gaurds shoulders, stunning him. Virdel then kicked the stunned gaurd down the stairs, effectivly breaking his next.
If he had known the layout of the Copper Coronet, he would have know of the second set of stairs. Again he made his way off from the conflict, but ran right into another gaurd. Virdel's face thudded into the hard steel. He stumbled back, stunned at his stupidity. He felt the blood rush to his head, and his hood fall back from his face. He blinked for a second, but that was all it took. The man approached him, his large battle-worn axe raised high above him. Virdel, even dazed as he was, saw the attack, and kicked back. The axe made contact with the wooden floor, and sent splinters through the air, but it was also lodged in the floor. Virdel smiled at his twist of luck, and saw his oppertunity. He used his right scimitar, and in a streak of metal and light, he brought it across the throught og the man. He then took off again, crawling out one of the windows of the top floor, and off into the slums, where he could effectivly hide, and make his way back to him employer...
Few, that's a long for me. Hope you all enjoyed.
Virdel walked quietly int the Copper Coronet, not drawing much, if any, attention to himself. He hhad his cloak drawn up, and had his face covered quite well, and unless someone really took notice, then his race would remain hidden, and all the better. Upon his shoulder, over his cloak, he had white band of cloth, stained red with his blood, a common sight in this bar, so he had no worry of that. He made his way the bar nimbly, avoiding contact with all of the patrons, and avoiding the tables whenever possible. He sat on one of the creaking stools, his face still down, and ordered a glass of wine. Off to the side he saw two man approach a solitary man drinking (Fas+Xan). He kept one eye on them, just out of rudementry curiosity, especially seeing that both had been in a recent battle, obvious because of the marks upon the one man.
His thoughts were interupted as the husky bartender tapped him on the shoulder. Virdel turned to the bartender, but kept his face hidden still. The man placed the glass of wine on the counter, and coughed gruffly. Virdel cought the idea, and reached into his pouch, and withdrew two coppers, and threw them onto the counter. He lifted his wine glss, and taking a sip, he turned back to the room. He watched, and listened with casual interest, not wanting to start trouble right now. He casually sipped his wine, unknowing of what thebartender was currently doing...
*****
Bartender: "I'telling, ye! That's a damned Drow in there!" The bartender spoke panicked, and obviously quite confused. "We should call the guards! And da'.... Da'Black Helm! We can't have a bloody Drow running around da' place!"
Employer: "Patience, Intid. Thank you for bringing this to my attention. I will aprise the approprieate authorities of this. Go back to work." Intid's employer turned, and casually his made out of the back of the Copper Coronet.
That put some confidence back in the husky Bartender, buthe then realized he would have to deal with the Drow for at least another twenty minutes. He sighed, and wiped the sweat of his greasy brow. He took a second to regain his composure, and stepped back into the main room...
*****
Virdel remained sitting at the counter, completly unaware that the bartender had managed to get a look at his face, either way, he was concerned at what he didn't know. His coming had been that of a dual purpose. Not only was he here to try and relax from his encounter with the theif, he was here to find potential clients for his employer. That is why he continuelly found his gaze drawn but to the two men he had seen when he first entered the bar.
Again his thoughts were interupted by the bartender. Virdel turned to meet him, cloak down.
Virdel: "What now...." Somewhat annoyed by this interuption, Virdel was in no mood to be trifled with, or to be even remotly pleasant.
Intid: "Ye be wanting another drink?" As the bartender spoke, Virdel caught the slight quiver in his voice, and realized what had happen.
He swore to himself, and stood up from the stool. That was twice today he had let himself slip! He dropped the half full glass of wine, letting it crash to the floor, and drawing undue attention. His hand's dropped to his scimitar blades, and loosing them from their scabberds, he turn quickly on his heel, and made his way to the door. As he swung the door open, he was met with the fine armour of a gaurd of the Black Helm!
Virdel: "Damnit!"
He, luckily, he surprised the man, which gave Virdel the advantage. He slashed his left scimitar at the man's exposed kidney, as it was only a half-plate being employed in these three particular men. He felt the blade connect, but wasted no time to see what damge it had down. He jumped back again, and took off through the corwded bar, no alive with cheering and provokation. These men were riled up at the current prospect of a fight, and bets could be heard being placed. Virdel ran his way through the bar, and to the kitchen, and back door, were he was met by two more gaurds. Bad idea, he thought to himself, and turned as quickly as he came. His only other option was upstairs.
Virdel bounded his way through the room again, and up the stairs, where at least if a fight was forced, he could something of an advantage. Behind him, two gaurds pursued. Virdel, knowing this, took advantage of it, and stopped dead at the top of the stairs. With his two scimitars, he swung them high, and braught them down on the unsuspecting gaurds shoulders, stunning him. Virdel then kicked the stunned gaurd down the stairs, effectivly breaking his next.
If he had known the layout of the Copper Coronet, he would have know of the second set of stairs. Again he made his way off from the conflict, but ran right into another gaurd. Virdel's face thudded into the hard steel. He stumbled back, stunned at his stupidity. He felt the blood rush to his head, and his hood fall back from his face. He blinked for a second, but that was all it took. The man approached him, his large battle-worn axe raised high above him. Virdel, even dazed as he was, saw the attack, and kicked back. The axe made contact with the wooden floor, and sent splinters through the air, but it was also lodged in the floor. Virdel smiled at his twist of luck, and saw his oppertunity. He used his right scimitar, and in a streak of metal and light, he brought it across the throught og the man. He then took off again, crawling out one of the windows of the top floor, and off into the slums, where he could effectivly hide, and make his way back to him employer...
Few, that's a long for me. Hope you all enjoyed.