The grim, ashen-skinned man looks down at the figure in a dark, hooded cloak.The grim, ashen-skinned man gives a quick once over glance as he turns aside, walking up the northern alley.
In the distance a shriek errupts through the inky gloom, ending in a strangled gurgle leaving only the dull murmur of the 'rinth's alleys... soft sounds of supple menance.
The grim, ashen-skinned man walks north.
T-Junction [NES]
The grim, ashen-skinned man is standing here.The grim, ashen-skinned man halts suddenly and shoots his head upward, stepping back and moving haphazardly at the piercing echo lingering in the night.
The grim, ashen-skinned man shudders softly and jerks his bone-studded backpack around to his side.
The grim, ashen-skinned man opens a bone-studded backpack.
The grim, ashen-skinned man gets a dark, hooded cloak from a bone-studded backpack.
The grim, ashen-skinned man closes a bone-studded backpack.
The grim, ashen-skinned man digs a dark, hooded cloak out of his bone-studded backpack and tosses it over him, drawing up the hood and blending into the shadowy recesses of the alley.
The grim, ashen-skinned man stops using a dust-colored cloak.
The grim, ashen-skinned man wears a dark, hooded cloak about his body.
The grim, ashen-skinned man raises the hood of a dark, hooded cloak.
The figure in a dark, hooded cloak walks north.
Dead End [S]
The tiny figure in a dark, hooded cloak is standing here.
The tiny figure in a dark, hooded cloak releases a shaky breath and heads towards the back of the alley.
It is late at night on Yochem, the 73rd day of the Low Sun,
Dead End [S]
You are standing in the middle of poverty-stricken alley, the Highlord's chamber pot of human life. All about you, piled against dilapidated stone buildings, are piles of garbage, excrement, and the occasional corpse -- or perhaps that's simply a sleeping child -- that gather here. The sky above, what is visible of its dome through the blood-tinged air rank with foul scents, shines less brightly upon you, the sun's rays being blocked out by the tall cracked structures of crumbling red stone, buildings which give this alley a claustrophobic feel, despite its being quite wide.
This alleyway comes to an abrupt end here the way north choked off by an old collapsed building.
The figure in a dark, hooded cloak is standing here.Grumbling darkly, the tiny figure in a dark, hooded cloak kicks away some battered trash and debris, clearing a small spot amidst the rubbled dead end.
The figure in a dark, hooded cloak sits down.
The figure in a dark, hooded cloak sighs hard and heavy, his head dropping low and his grip loosening on the curved obsidian swords in either hand.
The figure in a dark, hooded cloak thinks: Crimson Wyvern recruit... never even met my damn superior save that noble. Not an ounce of training and here I am in 'rinth for that damned Borsail..
The tiny figure in a dark, hooded cloak thinks: But if I can pull this off I'm guaranteed to go far. Serving the premier noble house of the mightiest city in the world should take me far..
The red orb of Jihae ascends over the horizon.
The dull white luster of lirathu oozes through the dank alley, pooling as a pallid streak through the middle of the litter strewn alley, the inky darkness of shadow surrounding this bloodless oasis with its promising taint.
The figure in a dark, hooded cloak gazes from out of the darkness of his hood, his gray eyes lost in the depths ahead beyond the moonlight.
The thick shadows pull back slowly as Jihae crests the decripit building to the east, its bloody corruption spilling into the alley.
The figure in a dark, hooded cloak thinks: Is something moving up there...?.
The figure in a dark, hooded cloak thinks: My imagination..
His throat barely trambling, the figure in a dark, hooded cloak hums quietly and slides himself back a cord or two into the shadows.
A shadow shifts in the inky murk, revealing a hint of a lighter black for only a moment.
The figure in a dark, hooded cloak thinks: Okay, gather yourself together. That Gores should be getting you a list of the best thieves in this slum. That's a good start....
The figure in a dark, hooded cloak stirs in the gloom to pull his head up sharply, his form then freezing in place and staring down the alley for some time.
Slipping silently out from the shadows, speaking deadly soft feminine voice, you ask, in sirihish:
"Why ya really 'ere boy?"The figure in a dark, hooded cloak stands in the midst of the alley, the vague illumination of the twin moons barely revealing her dark gear.
guard south
You begin guarding the south exit.
Dead End [S]
The figure in a dark, hooded cloak sits here at the back of the alley.A loud ruckus of kicked stone and trash scatters around the figure in a dark, hooded cloak as he shoots up to his feet.
The figure in a dark, hooded cloak gets up and stands to his feet.
The figure in a dark, hooded cloak looks at you.
In the shadows of the back of the alley, the figure in a dark, hooded cloak tightens his grip on the pair of blades in his hands.
His voice low and grating, the figure in a dark, hooded cloak asks you, in sirihish:
"Who are you and what do you want?"Speaking softly, the light barely illuming the scene of the litter strewn alley, you say, in sirihish:
"If I want'd ya dead boy, ya'd be dead. None escape me. E'er."The figure in a dark, hooded cloak shifts his stance to one side, slipping partially into the mixed moonlight to get a better view at you.
Moving your thin throwing knife with sinuous grace, her voice quiet, you say, in sirihish:
"This is fer any tha' may think ta disturb our little talk"Softly, remaining where she stands, her body loose and held with confidence, you say to the figure in a dark, hooded cloak, in sirihish:
"Ya ain't in any position ta ask questions boy. Ya answer me, or we'll see yer blood on the ground."Her gaze upon the figure in a dark, hooded cloak yet her features remain enshrouded with darkness from the hood, you say to the figure in a dark, hooded cloak, in sirihish:
"Start yer talkin' we don't 'ave all night"The sun rises, filling the sweltering streets of the 'Rinth with heat.
Some vague curiousity in his voice as the morning light creeps over the walls, the figure in a dark, hooded cloak says to you, in sirihish:
"I'm here on business..."The alley fills with a soft, hissing laughter as the figure in a dark, hooded cloak plays with the first feeble rays of bloodied light with your thin throwing knife.
Softly, you ask the figure in a dark, hooded cloak, in sirihish:
"Yes. An' who's yer real boss?"Blades crossed and lowered before him, the figure in a dark, hooded cloak asks you, in sirihish:
"My real one? You overhead my conversation in the tavern the other night I take it?"Quietly, you say, in sirihish:
"Yes. I was there, watchin', listenin'. I've watch'd ya before now. So speak true, perhaps I already know"Angling his head to the side, the figure in a dark, hooded cloak says to you, in sirihish:
"I'm afraid my true employer really is one Maric Lorl, an independant based in Luir's..."The figure in a dark, hooded cloak falls silent, watching the figure in a dark, hooded cloak from the hidden depths of her hood, her weapons held easily, with casual familiarity in her hands by her sides.
Taking a slow step to the side, the figure in a dark, hooded cloak says to you, in sirihish:
"But I gather you've done your homework and suspect otherwise."As a soft hiss into the alley, you say to the figure in a dark, hooded cloak, in sirihish:
"Lie. Do not tempt me boy. Start again."Taking a deep breath as he turns halfway, keeping his side to you, the figure in a dark, hooded cloak says to you, in sirihish:
"Easo... I do have a cover in this city and other business than what you heard at the tavern."The figure in a dark, hooded cloak stands silent, the brush of the bloody morning light washing over her dark clothing, failing to catch on anything colorful.
Slowly and quietly, the figure in a dark, hooded cloak says to you, in sirihish:
"My -true- employer you already know about from the tavern last night. You probably have seen my cover on the southside."The figure in a dark, hooded cloak flexes his fingers lightly and rewraps them around the handle of his curved obsidian sword.
As the feeble light spills into the alley, casting its dirty rays upon bones, refuse, and putrid piles the figure in a dark, hooded cloak stands silent, watching.
Taking a pause and glancing at the morning sky filled with heat and stench overhead, the figure in a dark, hooded cloak says to you, in sirihish:
"Is that satisfactory for you? I have business both here, and with southsiders. Neither interfere with each other."Softly, without moving, you say, in sirihish:
"No. Speak the truth boy, all of it. Tell me from your own lips."The figure in a dark, hooded cloak squints softly across the alley toward you.
The figure in a dark, hooded cloak looks at you.
The wind changes direction.
The sun begins its long voyage across the heavens.His speech lengthened now and then with a few pauses, the figure in a dark, hooded cloak asks you, in sirihish:
"If you speak the truth, I'm sure you know what my cover is. I wouldn't figure you to bluff?"The figure in a dark, hooded cloak shifts, her body moving silently forward a single step towards the figure in a dark, hooded cloak.
The figure in a dark, hooded cloak stills his body and keeps his eyes firmly fixed upon you.
Quietly, stopping once more, her dark clothing blending in with the few remaining shadows of the alley, you say to the figure in a dark, hooded cloak, in sirihish:
"A measure of trust boy. Speak and earn it, or fail and leave empty handed."Nodding slowly, the figure in a dark, hooded cloak says to you, in sirihish:
"I deal with the Borsail on the southside. I assume a common role to gain accegs to their compound. I am up here for my true employer, looking for prospects that he might take an interest in."Speaking softly, you say, in sirihish:
"You lie about your true employer, but keep your ruse if it makes you happy."Quietly, her voice hinting of promise, you ask the figure in a dark, hooded cloak, in sirihish:
"What is it that you seek boy? What do you truly want?"The figure in a dark, hooded cloak watches you curiously from across the alley and takes an involuntary step forward.
In a dull, flat voice as he watches you, the figure in a dark, hooded cloak says to you, in sirihish:
"I want the keys stolen from the Borsail lord, Zatar."The figure in a dark, hooded cloak holds in a heavy breath for one moment, then releases, his shoulders drooping with fatigue.
In a soft voice, you ask, in sirihish:
"Trivial. That is your master's errand, not yours. What is that _you_ want?"The figure in a dark, hooded cloak looks at you.
The figure in a dark, hooded cloak rubs a hand down his face, his flesh growing pallid as he looks aside.
As a soft, seductive whisper, you ask, in sirihish:
"Power? is it power you wish?"Looking entranced as he takes a step toward you, the figure in a dark, hooded cloak asks you, in sirihish:
"How... how did you know what I was going to say?"Quietly, you say, in sirihish:
"All men of worth want power. Those that do not seek it are worth nothing."Red morning light spills over the figure in a dark, hooded cloak as he takes a final step into the rays.
In a quiet, seductive voice, you say, in sirihish:
"What can Borsail offer you? A place as a guard? One of many? A chance to rise to Lieutenant...? To serve your master ever more."Quietly, you ask, in sirihish:
"Or, if you are lucky... a chance to become captain of the Wyverns. How... exciting. To chase down rats and trap them for the slavers. Is that _power_ boy?"The burning sun rises high into the sky, searing the earth.
Slipping beyond the horizon, Jihae fades from the sky's stage.His voice faintly slurred, the figure in a dark, hooded cloak says to you, in sirihish:
"It isn't. I saw them as a tool to a greater means, but..."Slowly and more coherently, the figure in a dark, hooded cloak says to you, in sirihish:
"Not anymore."Quietly, you say, in sirihish:
"Let me tell you power boy. It is here. In this cess pool. This festering sore"Softly, you say to the figure in a dark, hooded cloak, in sirihish:
"Hidden away from view is the power to destroy, to change, to gain everything."The figure in a dark, hooded cloak takes a slow look to either side of him, staring at the broken and decrepit walls drenched with sickly light.
Quietly, you say, in sirihish:
"A word whispered and a templar falls. A message run, and a House plundered."Softly, you say, in sirihish:
"An idea... from us, and the world trembles."Quietly, you say to the figure in a dark, hooded cloak, in sirihish:
"We are spread across the lands, beyond the walls. Our reach is everywhere."Pulling his mouth closed before speaking, the figure in a dark, hooded cloak asks you, in sirihish:
"Who are you?"In a soft seductive voice, you say, in sirihish:
"You come here seeking contacts for your master. Cast down his collar boy, and become the contact."Quietly, you say to the figure in a dark, hooded cloak, in sirihish:
"Your chance at true power."The figure in a dark, hooded cloak stares steadily and silently at you, his breathing somewhat heavy and ragged.
Amusement in her seductive tones, you say, in sirihish:
"Gain the luxuries of Borsail, take their pay, but command true power. I did it once, serving as a House Aide. I rose to advisor of the House"Quietly, you say, in sirihish:
"And yet, here I stand. Why you wonder. It is because you are yet blind."Softly, you say, in sirihish:
"Power comes from fear. Whisper our name and the people look into the shadows, fearing."The figure in a dark, hooded cloak's widened eyes blink a few times and he looks down to the filthy street.
Softly, you ask the figure in a dark, hooded cloak, in sirihish:
"Are you ready to take up that kind of power? The power to, if need be, remove your master without ever it affecting you?"Quietly, you say to the figure in a dark, hooded cloak, in sirihish:
"The power to be the ear he turns to when he needs help. To always have the aid required when none other can provide... think of what you'd gain from Borsail for that. Think of your influence. "Whispering it into the alley, you say, in sirihish:
"Not a mere Wyvern... no, you would become much... much more"The figure in a dark, hooded cloak looks back to you, his eyes squinted with a soft pain as he nods slowly.
Softly, you say to the figure in a dark, hooded cloak, in sirihish:
"And think of the power you'd wield to TAKE that from him"Quietly, you say to the figure in a dark, hooded cloak, in sirihish:
"You. Not him. You."His form straightening back to a somewhat more upright posture, the figure in a dark, hooded cloak takes a few slow steps toward you.
The sun reaches its highest point in the sky.
Slipping beyond the horizon, Lirathu fades from the sky's stage.Quietly, the figure in a dark, hooded cloak says to you, in sirihish:
"Yes..."Softly, you say to the figure in a dark, hooded cloak, in sirihish:
"Are you willing? Take the first step. Become the contact you sought."Almost in a whisper, the figure in a dark, hooded cloak asks you, in sirihish:
"I will... who, who are you?"Quietly, you say, in sirihish:
"One who isn't even the most powerful in the organization. To you, I am the Temptress. To others, I am merely the Rat"The figure in a dark, hooded cloak stands for a few moments, watching you and mouthing soundlessly now and again.
Softly, you say, in sirihish:
"You may never see me again. Continue with the bar, he is one of us."Quietly, you say to the figure in a dark, hooded cloak, in sirihish:
"But now, you will receive information you seek before you seek it."With quiet confusion, the figure in a dark, hooded cloak says to you, in sirihish:
"I will..."You initiate the tiny figure in a dark, hooded cloak into 'The Guild'.
Softly, you say to the figure in a dark, hooded cloak, in sirihish:
"Fear. Learn it, use it."Quietly, you say to the figure in a dark, hooded cloak, in sirihish:
"Learn your Lord's fears, his wishes, his desires. Then... tell him what he wants to know. He will be yours."The two curved obsidian swords held in the figure in a dark, hooded cloak's hands hang limp by his sides as he watches you.
Softly, you say to the figure in a dark, hooded cloak, in sirihish:
"Pass what you know back, that information will be spread to others. To fuel their fear, to make them do what we want them to do. What you want them to do."Quietly, you say to the figure in a dark, hooded cloak, in sirihish:
"As you learn, you will grow."Her voice soft, you say to the figure in a dark, hooded cloak, in sirihish:
"Never fear the dark, it conceals your reach"Turning slowly, you say to the figure in a dark, hooded cloak, in sirihish:
"Walk in the darkness and learn fear."The figure in a dark, hooded cloak moves silently back down the alley, slipping beyond view.
Contributed by Aernis.