In the city of Deeplive, there are many organizations that exist solely for the purpose of making other people suffer and frequently employ people who enjoy killing. Not the least of these 'guilds', as we of higher minds call them, is the one scuttlebutt says will come to an end quite soon at the rate they're going. All on the account that being insane is bad for one's health.
It seems that the guild called, simply, 'X' is prone to acts of madness such as, jumping off tall buildings, drinking all the liquor in the city then burning half the city in their drunken revelry, trying to pick a fight the demons(never a good idea), and, last, but certainly not least, living in the Graveyard.
Even the most deranged imp would not dare enter the Graveyard, for one never knows what one might find hidden in the cats. The Graveyard is the oldest planting ground in Deeplive and the most likely to have relics such as Anduin's regenerating sword or Der'ni Sworsk's Loving Hug, you don't really want to know what that does. And, of course, in the catacombs there are the Slinkers, nasty little slimy white creatures who like to sneak up on innocent intruders and suck the brains, leaving quite a gruesome sight.
Of course, being insane is merely a point of view, it's like saying, "I am normal and you're not", for who can say what is normal? Then again, there is a saying that goes along the lines of, "if you don't think you're insane, you probably are", well I suppose no one's perfect. Anyway, insane is better than berserk like the guild down on the starboard side of town that has dwindled down to two members.
Whatever the case may be, X is not going anywhere, least of all Hell in a hand basket, not while I'm in charge. We may have our problems, namely arsonist Everic and that damned pirate, but who doesn't? After all, no one's perfect.
Guild X is a pretty new guild in an old city and not very popular with the demons particularly their new leader. Shishma Lo'lia, a temporal temptress, is very keen on seeing us rot in a snake infested hole ever since I tortured her head minion to near non-death. Also, another reason why she wants to kill us, Sersinn and Lorealynn picked a fight with some partying daemons, 'blue-blood' demons, and killed a few of them. Oh, and the merchants want our heads as well. They keep talking about something to do with not paying.
And then we come to the heart of the matter, the other 'guilds' hate our guts 'cause we always get the best pickings and that makes us the richest guild to ever grace the streets of Deeplive. Of course, I always tell them that the early bird gets the worm and if they really wanted the best jobs they should sign up before hand instead of waiting until the last minute.
So, on that note, I awaken to a perfect day and what happens?
"Cap'n, Cap'n, Sack's gone missing! I woke up and found this note on his pillow."
Sawbones tells me, breathlessly, waving a scrap of raggedy paper in my face. He soon stopped as I stared at him, my face as blank as a sheet of white paper, and pushed past him as though he wasn't there. His worried face followed me as I made my way to the kitchen and stared at me as I made some mak'lav.
I sat down at the 'table' and drank two full cups before I turned on him, "Why are you here? Go find Scaret and Rivers! Do you expect me to do everything? And give me that note!"
He raised an eyebrow as I held out my hand and he handed me the piece of…whatever it was, over. I watched him carefully, over the top of my mug, as he walked around the corner and vanished from my sight. I looked at the note and this is what I read,
"Syven Alistine, if you ever wish to see your companion again, Jude Sack, get out of our city and take your arsonist, priest, and drunk. We never want to see you lot again. Otherwise, he'll die a slow death at the hands of-"
"Alice! Alice, is it true? Has Jude really been kidnapped?"
Said the breathless Ed Everic, our local arsonist and troublemaker, second only to one, approaching me from the southeast corner of the house. Very unusual, because he lives in the lower northwest corner and I really hate it when he calls me Alice. Thus, my reply was short and sharp,
"I don't know. If you would be so kind and rouse the sleeping beauties perhaps I can get to the bottom of this before everyone comes knocking at my door asking questions. Now, Everic!"
His eyebrows went up and his mouth went thin, a sure sign of the temper about to be released, turned on his heel and stalked off towards the rest of the sleeping quarters. What a relief I won't be there to witness the mayhem and insults that are sure to ensue as soon as Everic gets his mouth open and starts maligning my name. Anyway, back to the note:
"Jude Sack, blah, blah, blah, he'll die a slow death at the hands of The Blaqcarte. When you wish to negotiate the terms of the transfer, you know how to contact me. Mont Sorx, The Hand that Kills"
Oh, dear. I suppose they think I'm going to roll over for them just because they have one of my men. I sighed and reached for the rolls as the dead came thundering towards me all talking at once and at the top of their lungs. I looked at the sorry sight of six people whom have been rousted out bed by the two troublemaking, tight mouthed, juveniles that are under my care.
Loudest was Morcan Farnfell, an ex-pirate and Sack's roommate, our womanizing surgeon with his black hair, muscled body, dragon tattoo, and fine features. Next was Rivers, the man to have should you have enemies, a man of no unique features, sans the eye patch, and an excellent hand at cards. Tied for third were Dorn Scaret, our tall blond cook and barkeep, Ed the short statured, long haired, amber eyed arsonist, and Jono Lorealynn, our pigtailed drunken master swordsman. The only silent one was Antares, our misfit and malnourished, scythe carrying herbalist, who gazed at me in silent sympathy.
I let them go on for a while before getting out of my chair and walking towards my study. They followed me complaining about my silence all the way down the stairs and across the beams into my little nook. I looked back at my companions and sighed as I stepped down into my study. They are going to be very upset when they hear my plan.
I settled into my chair and watched them fight over the only cushion. My study is on the third deepest level of the catacombs and packed to the brim with books, papers, and, now, people. A shabby place you might say but it suits me and anyway no one comes down here, on account of all the Slinkers. Oh, great. Now they're looking at me, expectantly. Here goes nothing.