More About a Lifestyle
Winski exhaled deeply in relief and cupped his hands around the coiled Twiggy. He concentrated for a while on the story, his face more and more grim as Twiggy went on.
- "It is as we suspected," he told the others. "They are shipping the children at least to Cormyr, and possibly to the other destinations as well. A local noble from a council family, called Lord Marshwall, is running the organization, using the Night Masks as his operational arm. He is using personal letters of recommendation to indicate what the contact is really about, all done under guise of legitimate business. A man named Arny, Twiggy will recognize him, will contact the Lord for the name list. The Masks also want to protect the operation at all costs - he says that it is the most lucrative one they have, and the easy manipulation of the children makes it easy profit."
Winski was snarling. Even in his evil mortal days he had found abusing children very reprehensible and vile, a true sign of a depraved mind. He had ignored the thought of child slaves used in the Cloakwood mines... he sighed in pain and thought that this quest could be one way to pay back for his wrongdoings.
- "The bastards." Peri's mouth was a tight line. "So, this guy is taking off about now? Winski, could you cast mass invisibility on us and then we could follow him. And Sarevok, please try not to attract attention."
- "I will be invisible," Sarevok said indignantly.
- "That is just a minor hindrance for you as far as I am concerned," Peri answered. "You can even BREATHE in an intimidating and epic way."
So Winski cast the veil of invisibility on them, and they stepped out of the inn, waiting for Arny to make his appearance.
# That's him. Let's follow. #
Winski motioned to the others, and they started to follow the dark-eyed young man through the sprawling city. They still could see each other as Jelena had called True Sight upon them, a power similar to Keldorn's that had been so useful to Peri's group when the old paladin still traveled with them.
They passed the dark alleyways, warehouses and the docks, the prostitutes walking around, chatting the drunken sailors up. Gradually the streets changed into more quiet and clean ones, beautiful gardens and gilded towers in the streets, high fences, guardsmen standing at the gates.
The invisible party, knowing that the spell would last for hours still, followed Arny who asked for lord Marshwall. The lord was a man in his fifties, refined and quiet in his manner. His slight smile was very nonthreatening. Sarevok shivered to think how easily he could have trusted this man when he was a little street child, thirsty for affection and warmth. His own escape from a man of this ilk had been a narrow one, and bought by succumbing to the power of Bhaal for the first time.
Arny was led to the parlor, and sherry was served to the men.
- "I trust that you have already been briefed by your superior," the lord said. "But I still must say that I am uncomfortable about switching the middleman at this stage. I can't stress enough how delicate this business is."
- "You see, an unforeseen accident befell young Will," Arny responded coolly. "Don't worry. I am loyal and capable. I understand that the very reputation and position of respectable and important men is at stake, as well as a significant amount of money."
- "Ah, money..." there was a pensive, condescending look at the lord's face. "Yes, it must be significant for a person of your position. No offence, young man. But for me money is a secondary consideration. The wealth of our family was already built decades ago, so I have my economical needs well met. This is more about a lifestyle, a freedom of choice, you see. There are many men, men like me, with influence and responsibilities... and these particular tastes. Now the more narrow-minded forces of society wish to deny us our pleasures, out of spite or envy, perhaps. I want to provide these opportunities to my fellow, like-minded citizens."
The rage. So blind, so alluring. Sarevok was shaken to notice that he still could feel so overcome by lust for violence, even though the Bhaal taint was long gone. He had to resist the urge to attack them, to torture them within inches of their miserable life with all his willpower. He could feel the others were also tense with disgust, Imoen shocked and shivering.
Arny smiled thinly.
- "Lord Marshwall, your motives are your own. For us this is business like any other. We take care of it in a professional manner, like we take care of any business."
- "Very well. You have been professional about it so far. Perhaps we will extend the business to Kara-Turan children... we still don't have that brand in our repertoire. But ah well. Here is the list of contacts, and the letters of recommendation."
He handed the papers to Arny, who took off, and was left alone. He rang a little bell, and a male servant entered the room, immaculately dressed.
- "Fetch Ali, if you will," the lord said. The servant nodded and was gone. Moments later a very pretty Calimshite boy entered the room. He had large black eyes, delicate pale features, and small hands with long fingers. His eyes were cast down and he approached the lord reluctantly.
- "Ali, my dear... sit in my lap, love," the lord said. The boy did, his face pinched, his shoulders tense.
- "Ali, you know that I love children, especially you, don't you?" lord Marshwall asked. The boy nodded miserably.
- "I would never hurt you... I only do what is good for you. You enjoy sleeping with me and the gentle touching, don't you?"
- "Yes sir," Ali said, his voice a whisper.
- "Say it, Ali. I want to hear you tell that you like it." The voice was just slightly demanding now.
- "I like it, sir. I like it when you touch me," the boy said.
- "Good. I just needed to hear it. Now go to prepare. I will meet you later," the lord said.
