Council of the Wise

The Clansman had been riding all night and day to be here, but now that he had arrived his stomach was twisted into a terrified knot. The room was almost perfectly dark, lit only by a faint blue paper lantern hanging from the rafters, and three oil fed candles. Jimaga didn't need light to know he was walking through a wall of smoke; the sickly-sweet smell of moon sugar was ripe in the air. A faint voice reached across the room

"You are here Jimaga?" judging by voice one couldn't distinguish what sex the speaker was, but that was how the Three Chiefs of Paradise were, there were hundreds of legends and rumors about their origins, few Jimaga put stock in. Stepping forward Jimaga was grateful for the dark so they couldn't see his purple and blue bruised face, but neither could he make out anything but their cross legged outlines. A pair of Tojay-raht stood somewhere out in the dark, always ready to pounce at any sign of betrayal.

"We know you have failed in your mission."

Jimaga dropped to his belly

A weedy whisper came forth from the left of the original speaker

"You have failed us; the Council of Paradise does not bear your mistakes well."

"I was betrayed, forgive me!" Jimaga nearly screamed, he could have given lessons to a snake on keeping body to the ground.

This voice was from the right, almost male sounding "Yes we know; the Blade if such a thing still exists."

"One would think he would be busy after the Summerset incidents, not meddling in our affairs." said the left,

The center re-entered "It does not matter now, tell me kitten why did you not kill yourself as you were honor bound to do? What if they tortured the plans from you?"

"I would have" Jimaga would have sold his soul for his lie to work "but I knew you would save me."

The center sounded angry "Save you! No you got lucky we had other business with that caravan."

"Hunting down the Breton Spy!" the right hissed

Jimaga had raised his body some while talking, he re-lowered it, "I beg you chieftains allow me to kill the Blade spy and restore my standing in the clan."

The left snickered "You have more problems than that, during the raid on your caravan some witnesses escaped we..."

"I sent some men to handle them" Jimaga immediately regretted interrupting the Chief mid-sentence

There was an angry silence; the left's long fragile pipe came into view as it rested over one of the oil lamps. A long wheezing inhale came out of the dark. Finally the right spoke up

"You sent men? Your Renrijra Krin allies no doubt? This one plays a dangerous game serving two masters."

The center concurred "The Renrijra Krin serve their own purposes, they have no place in the future we are making."

Attempting to look up while holding his belly to the ground Jimaga attempted to appease the Chiefs,

"Whatever you command I am your clansmen until death, what shall I do?"

The center leaned forward on his pedestal, putting its ancient face half into the light, its fur hung in clumps on its rough, almost scaled skin, and it had black streaks running from its eyes that clumped together in places, as if it cried tar. "We shall trust the Renrijra Krin to handle these witnesses, and you shall be given a chance to redeem yourself. Go to the Red Light Districts of Senchal, and there you shall meet an Argonian called Swims-in-Field living at an unnamed whore-house, tell him you are Clansman."

Left squeaked in "Do not be distracted, remember your purpose or we shall have you reminded!"

Rising Jimaga backed slowly out of the room, mentally repeating his instructions a hundred times over.