A Shadowy Encounter
After defeating Raistlin, and saving Athkatla, 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 magi'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 magi'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 magi, sending his soul along with his demon cohorts screaming back to the Lower Planes.
But few knew the true story. They remained silent, respecting the parting wishes of those that did not care for the burdens of fame. Perhaps not so much "respecting" wishes, as heeding dire threats of harm if they did not cooperate. A stoic barbarian named Fallout came to mind, or swift death 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 a transient thing, and eventually all things must come to an end. A decade has passed since Athkatla's siege by demons, and only in the poorer sections of town do reminders remain of that cruel time. Since then, Athkatla'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. Now, the government is 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 magi story. They used this leverage to strengthen their power over magic-users into a stranglehold. Only members of the elite group had the right to practice magic. Not only that, but all magical items brought into or out of Amn must first be inspected for "evil magic's." Of course, a hefty "down payment" would clear up most misunderstandings. Their coffers swelled with money from the magical item trade, the Cowled Wizards were more powerful than ever before. Enemies and dissidents quickly disappear, never to be seen again.
As the Cowled Wizard'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 Athkatla's city guard. Their jurisdiction quickly grew more and more. Now it controlled Amn's entire military, excluding the majority of the battlemages, who remained 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 super groups.
Amn was at the brink of civil war. Its neighbors were licking their chops in anticipation. Opportunistic adventurers and mercenaries alike came 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 was a great bluish-purple obelisk that reached towards the sky, located a few miles from Athkatla atop a gaping cliff. But the colors were not stagnant. Rather, they swirled and pulsed with powerful magic, making the structure a grand sight indeed. It was a veritable fortress, unauthorized entry nigh impossible to all but the most powerful of mortals. Even fewer could withstand the subsequent counterattack. The structure itself was merely a shell, no more than a bland container compared to the miracles within. For the Rift was a place of magic incarnate, where magic was as plentiful as dirt and air anywhere else. It had no "rooms," at least in the common sense of the word. It was a cluster of pocket dimensions, each of which expanded infinitely to the eyes of the unwanted, but paths would open to those that were welcome. In some ways, it was as dynamic as Limbo, the pocket dimensions within were always expanding, catering to the various needs of its master and ruler. 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. 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 went crashing to the floor, exploding in an enormous fireball that engulfed lab. Potions dissolve and ancient texts disintegrated as the flames destroyed everything they touched. When the smoke cleared, however, no harm was done. The texts and potions were 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.
*****
Tolgerias screamed as the assortment of hakeashar, nishruu, and invisible stalkers swarmed towards him. Furious beyond prudence, he fired off a Dragon Breath spell. The ensuing blast threw his assailants away, engulfed in terrible flames. He sniffed in condescending satisfaction, until the still flaming monsters began to move towards him once again. For once, Tolgerias was speechless.
You are not wanted here, Tolgerias. Leave from whence you came before we get angry. came a whisper on the wind.
"I'll not be denied, again! I WILL see Magus!" Tolgerias prepared another spell to, hopefully, blast these fools into oblivion.
Silence!
Speech was abruptly beyond Tolgerias and his wonderful spell fizzled. Turning, he glared daggers at Magus, who had just appeared. The stare was returned tenfold, and suddenly Tolgerias thought that upsetting Magus might not have been such a good idea...
Finally, Magus relented, and waved his hand in a gesture of dispelling. Might as well get this irritating meeting over with, he thought to himself.
Finding the ability to speak returned once more, Tolgerias launched 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 interrupted, already annoyed.
Tolgerias glared at Magus, then made a visible effort to calm himself. That done, he spoke somewhat more civilly. "You owe a duty to your fellow wizards, Magus."
"My FELLOW wizards!" Magus exclaimed. "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 exclaimed, taken aback for a moment. He gazed intently at Tolgerias for a moment, before dismissing the idle threat. He then sighed, turning his back. "What IS it that you could possibly want?" he seemed to be speaking to no one in particular.
Tolgerias hurried 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 rushed 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 was weak, even to Magus's own ears. Magus threw up his hands, and turned 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 exclaimed. But a quick glance at Tolgerias revealed he was most assuredly not. "Tolgerias, be reasonable. You know I could never openly support the Cowled Wizards. Think of something else."
Tolgerias looked ready to argue, but he was interrupted by an anomaly beginning to form in the air in front of him. A face appeared, glimmering as if seen reflected on water. "Tolgerias, your assistance is required at headquarters. The Council of Wizards requires your immediate presence."
Tolgerias swore softly under his breath and hesitated. He glared at Magus. As he vanished in a teleport spell, he called, "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 was left to ponder Tolgerias's words, and damn it all if they didn't have a 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, the only give-away 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 unmistakable, especially after the carnage wreaked 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 lightly as a he watched, he made his way to the man's back. Before reaching him, he spoke the words for a globe of darkness to shroud his attack, and drew his two scimitars. In one fluid, whirring motion, he disarmed the man of his magical staff, and cut the belt from his waist, 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, than slid his other across the man's throat. Using Drow proficiency, the man was killed with expert ease, and mastery.
Virdel murmured 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 corpse.
"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 panicked cries from the guards returning 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...
*****
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 either his mother or 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.
Xandax' amulet started to glow eerie. "Take good care of this", he remembered 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 from behind Xandax. Xandax slowly turned around - the man was not alone.
"Who are you" Xandax asked the highwayman.
" 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"
Four men, looking much alike surrounded Xandax. "Well then, take it!" Xandax said, wielding his sword. The sword glowed, almost excited. The men were nervous, they hadn't expected a fight, but of course they hadn't excepted anybody traveling alone at this hour.
"Get him" the leader called out and the other men moved in.
Canalizing his powers Xandax went in to his preferred state, Enraged. Xandax cried out as he charged "To the death!"
The battle didn't last long.
"Better get some sleep" Xandax thought after the encounter. He found a spot on the side of the road, and set up camp.
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 Athkatla"
"Barkeep - give me an Ale"
Xandax was visiting the Copper Coronet. It was a ramshackle bar in the middle of the slums district of Athkatla. On top of it, a near dilapidated temple for the god Illmater stood. Someone could find almost anything in the Slums, whether it was drink, or work, or even some of the more seedy aspects of the city.
"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 finish his sentence because two hooded men walked into the bar. They looked hardy, wearing leather armor.
"Shadow Thieves" the barkeep whispered to Xandax "stay away from them".
They 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 nervous.
"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 out of this stranger. They are dangerous, and it is a powerful group"
One of the hooded men heard Xandax and approached him. "You want something?" Xandax asked the thief, while slowly dropping his hand on his swords hilt.
"You want to interfere with the Shadow Thieves?" the man asked menacingly. "Do you have a problem?"
"I have no problem with those who don't cause me problems. Now go away and rob a little old 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" One of them ran out into the street and disappeared with his target.
"Count your blessings, stranger, that you live 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.
"You make 'friends' fast" the barkeep commented to Xandax.
"One of my talents." Xandax replied while finishing his ale and exiting into the streets.
The city was buzzing with life and 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 Calimshite.
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 Calimshite"
"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 Calmishite 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 arrived 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 Calimshite?" 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 grayness 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 all right , 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 all right," 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 Athkatla, 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..Athkatla"
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 magi, Nicros, something he needed to get rid of.
Behind the wizards black robe Thryn struck drawing his long sword down slicing his cooler bone, tearing his spine and poisoning the wound, the magi 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 something about black helm. He took the cloak and, also he found a key which, he thought was from Athkathla. "Long time no see," he murmured...
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, but gets 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 parlor 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 magi 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, obsidian stone. Even though it didn't look like anything of value, the stone held great powers, namely the ability to summon an Elemental of his choosing once a day. A powerful payment indeed. He smiled, and patted his pocket that enclosed his new possession, 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 fulfill 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 portion of the abandoned street. Noticing a few beggars, one who looked a little well too dressed to be a beggar he shrugged it off, and noted it as just a man who had lost all his owning 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 Thieves 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, hopping he would be.
"Ye-yes sir," the guard stammered. He handed them to the thief, who quickly scanned them over. Virdel's grin turned sour, as he saw the guards cowardice. 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 Thief said in satisfaction. "You have done well. Keep it up, and the Shadow Thieves might accept you yet. You may leave." For a brief moment, Virdel thought that the guard 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 engagement.
"Oh, really? Is that so?" the thief quipped, smiling. He nodded 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 guard 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 absolutely sure of the situation. 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 unrecognizable 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"
After defeating Raistlin, and saving Athkatla, 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 magi'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 magi'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 magi, sending his soul along with his demon cohorts screaming back to the Lower Planes.
But few knew the true story. They remained silent, respecting the parting wishes of those that did not care for the burdens of fame. Perhaps not so much "respecting" wishes, as heeding dire threats of harm if they did not cooperate. A stoic barbarian named Fallout came to mind, or swift death 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 a transient thing, and eventually all things must come to an end. A decade has passed since Athkatla's siege by demons, and only in the poorer sections of town do reminders remain of that cruel time. Since then, Athkatla'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. Now, the government is 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 magi story. They used this leverage to strengthen their power over magic-users into a stranglehold. Only members of the elite group had the right to practice magic. Not only that, but all magical items brought into or out of Amn must first be inspected for "evil magic's." Of course, a hefty "down payment" would clear up most misunderstandings. Their coffers swelled with money from the magical item trade, the Cowled Wizards were more powerful than ever before. Enemies and dissidents quickly disappear, never to be seen again.
As the Cowled Wizard'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 Athkatla's city guard. Their jurisdiction quickly grew more and more. Now it controlled Amn's entire military, excluding the majority of the battlemages, who remained 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 super groups.
Amn was at the brink of civil war. Its neighbors were licking their chops in anticipation. Opportunistic adventurers and mercenaries alike came 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 was a great bluish-purple obelisk that reached towards the sky, located a few miles from Athkatla atop a gaping cliff. But the colors were not stagnant. Rather, they swirled and pulsed with powerful magic, making the structure a grand sight indeed. It was a veritable fortress, unauthorized entry nigh impossible to all but the most powerful of mortals. Even fewer could withstand the subsequent counterattack. The structure itself was merely a shell, no more than a bland container compared to the miracles within. For the Rift was a place of magic incarnate, where magic was as plentiful as dirt and air anywhere else. It had no "rooms," at least in the common sense of the word. It was a cluster of pocket dimensions, each of which expanded infinitely to the eyes of the unwanted, but paths would open to those that were welcome. In some ways, it was as dynamic as Limbo, the pocket dimensions within were always expanding, catering to the various needs of its master and ruler. 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. 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 went crashing to the floor, exploding in an enormous fireball that engulfed lab. Potions dissolve and ancient texts disintegrated as the flames destroyed everything they touched. When the smoke cleared, however, no harm was done. The texts and potions were 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.
*****
Tolgerias screamed as the assortment of hakeashar, nishruu, and invisible stalkers swarmed towards him. Furious beyond prudence, he fired off a Dragon Breath spell. The ensuing blast threw his assailants away, engulfed in terrible flames. He sniffed in condescending satisfaction, until the still flaming monsters began to move towards him once again. For once, Tolgerias was speechless.
You are not wanted here, Tolgerias. Leave from whence you came before we get angry. came a whisper on the wind.
"I'll not be denied, again! I WILL see Magus!" Tolgerias prepared another spell to, hopefully, blast these fools into oblivion.
Silence!
Speech was abruptly beyond Tolgerias and his wonderful spell fizzled. Turning, he glared daggers at Magus, who had just appeared. The stare was returned tenfold, and suddenly Tolgerias thought that upsetting Magus might not have been such a good idea...
Finally, Magus relented, and waved his hand in a gesture of dispelling. Might as well get this irritating meeting over with, he thought to himself.
Finding the ability to speak returned once more, Tolgerias launched 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 interrupted, already annoyed.
Tolgerias glared at Magus, then made a visible effort to calm himself. That done, he spoke somewhat more civilly. "You owe a duty to your fellow wizards, Magus."
"My FELLOW wizards!" Magus exclaimed. "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 exclaimed, taken aback for a moment. He gazed intently at Tolgerias for a moment, before dismissing the idle threat. He then sighed, turning his back. "What IS it that you could possibly want?" he seemed to be speaking to no one in particular.
Tolgerias hurried 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 rushed 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 was weak, even to Magus's own ears. Magus threw up his hands, and turned 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 exclaimed. But a quick glance at Tolgerias revealed he was most assuredly not. "Tolgerias, be reasonable. You know I could never openly support the Cowled Wizards. Think of something else."
Tolgerias looked ready to argue, but he was interrupted by an anomaly beginning to form in the air in front of him. A face appeared, glimmering as if seen reflected on water. "Tolgerias, your assistance is required at headquarters. The Council of Wizards requires your immediate presence."
Tolgerias swore softly under his breath and hesitated. He glared at Magus. As he vanished in a teleport spell, he called, "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 was left to ponder Tolgerias's words, and damn it all if they didn't have a 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, the only give-away 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 unmistakable, especially after the carnage wreaked 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 lightly as a he watched, he made his way to the man's back. Before reaching him, he spoke the words for a globe of darkness to shroud his attack, and drew his two scimitars. In one fluid, whirring motion, he disarmed the man of his magical staff, and cut the belt from his waist, 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, than slid his other across the man's throat. Using Drow proficiency, the man was killed with expert ease, and mastery.
Virdel murmured 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 corpse.
"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 panicked cries from the guards returning 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...
*****
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 either his mother or 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.
Xandax' amulet started to glow eerie. "Take good care of this", he remembered 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 from behind Xandax. Xandax slowly turned around - the man was not alone.
"Who are you" Xandax asked the highwayman.
" 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"
Four men, looking much alike surrounded Xandax. "Well then, take it!" Xandax said, wielding his sword. The sword glowed, almost excited. The men were nervous, they hadn't expected a fight, but of course they hadn't excepted anybody traveling alone at this hour.
"Get him" the leader called out and the other men moved in.
Canalizing his powers Xandax went in to his preferred state, Enraged. Xandax cried out as he charged "To the death!"
The battle didn't last long.
"Better get some sleep" Xandax thought after the encounter. He found a spot on the side of the road, and set up camp.
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 Athkatla"
"Barkeep - give me an Ale"
Xandax was visiting the Copper Coronet. It was a ramshackle bar in the middle of the slums district of Athkatla. On top of it, a near dilapidated temple for the god Illmater stood. Someone could find almost anything in the Slums, whether it was drink, or work, or even some of the more seedy aspects of the city.
"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 finish his sentence because two hooded men walked into the bar. They looked hardy, wearing leather armor.
"Shadow Thieves" the barkeep whispered to Xandax "stay away from them".
They 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 nervous.
"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 out of this stranger. They are dangerous, and it is a powerful group"
One of the hooded men heard Xandax and approached him. "You want something?" Xandax asked the thief, while slowly dropping his hand on his swords hilt.
"You want to interfere with the Shadow Thieves?" the man asked menacingly. "Do you have a problem?"
"I have no problem with those who don't cause me problems. Now go away and rob a little old 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" One of them ran out into the street and disappeared with his target.
"Count your blessings, stranger, that you live 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.
"You make 'friends' fast" the barkeep commented to Xandax.
"One of my talents." Xandax replied while finishing his ale and exiting into the streets.
The city was buzzing with life and 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 Calimshite.
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 Calimshite"
"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 Calmishite 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 arrived 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 Calimshite?" 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 grayness 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 all right , 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 all right," 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 Athkatla, 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..Athkatla"
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 magi, Nicros, something he needed to get rid of.
Behind the wizards black robe Thryn struck drawing his long sword down slicing his cooler bone, tearing his spine and poisoning the wound, the magi 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 something about black helm. He took the cloak and, also he found a key which, he thought was from Athkathla. "Long time no see," he murmured...
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, but gets 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 parlor 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 magi 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, obsidian stone. Even though it didn't look like anything of value, the stone held great powers, namely the ability to summon an Elemental of his choosing once a day. A powerful payment indeed. He smiled, and patted his pocket that enclosed his new possession, 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 fulfill 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 portion of the abandoned street. Noticing a few beggars, one who looked a little well too dressed to be a beggar he shrugged it off, and noted it as just a man who had lost all his owning 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 Thieves 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, hopping he would be.
"Ye-yes sir," the guard stammered. He handed them to the thief, who quickly scanned them over. Virdel's grin turned sour, as he saw the guards cowardice. 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 Thief said in satisfaction. "You have done well. Keep it up, and the Shadow Thieves might accept you yet. You may leave." For a brief moment, Virdel thought that the guard 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 engagement.
"Oh, really? Is that so?" the thief quipped, smiling. He nodded 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 guard 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 absolutely sure of the situation. 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 unrecognizable 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"
