The nervous sweat creeped across my brow. Of course, the helmet kept me from wiping it. I dared not move, for fear of being discovered. I was almost surprised I hadnt been found out yet.

Aamada stood at the edge of the temple tower, peering upwards at the sky. He constantly checked books and charts that were spread about the table. His eyes were piercing under his thick brow ridge, even without eyebrows. His narrow face was set in a grim look of determination he always wore. For a crazy moment I mused that the man would make an excellent Zodar Bluff player.

But Aamada was the Archmage in charge of information and intelligence. He seemed one of the most likely candidates to replace the Heirophant when the time came. His power and influence were infamous amongst the other Heterodoxists.

There was a rap at the door. I almost made the mistake of moving to answer it. It would have cost me my life. Aamada ensured privacy and security by having the eardrums of his personal guards poked out. Thus, his guards could be with him always and never hear a thing. It took weeks of observation before I felt confident enough to know the gestures Aamada used with his guards, to try this ruse. He motioned me to get the door.

I opened it to see Mand, Aamada's most trusted Undermage. He seemed out of breath and a little scared. But that was often the case of people in the presence of Aamada. Aamada didnt even turn from looking at the heavens. He seemed to recognize the very sound of Mand.

"You have news from your contact, Mand?" Aamada asked.

"Yes, your holiness. I do.", Mand said, the breath still heavy in his voice.

"What says our Sauran friend?," Aamada asked.

"Zzabul agrees to the sum, an estimated 10% of the toll receipts. But he has another, more unusual, request.", Mand's voice suddenly dropped.

Aamada turned and fixed his famous stare on Mand, whose head was hung down. "Look at me.," he commanded, and Mand did,"What is it, Mand?"

"Zzabul wishes to retire with his tribe back in the Wilderlands, your holiness. Zzabul wishes for no less than 150 pilgrims be routed through his tribes hunting grounds every year for twenty years.," Mand's face looked positively fearful.

Aamada turned back toward the sky. "The Concordance is strong this year. And Satha's star is in the Arch of Aa. It is the right time. Tell Zzabul that his conditions are acceptable."

Mand stuttered, "But your holiness, he does not want them as missionaries. His tribe has claimed the right to eat flesh. . ."

"Enough. Of course I know why he wants them," Aamada said,"Do you doubt me? I thought you knew better than that. Do you need to learn again,Mand?"

Mand unconsciously moved his hand to a place on his back, as if remembering some old injury. "N-no, you holiness."

"Zzabul has won the Clash of Champions too many times. This year it ends. If some of the Faithful join Aa to do so, so be it. They will die the deaths of martyrs, there is no cause for alarm." Aamada turned to face Mand again, although he did not look at him directly this time.

"Tell Zzabul the conditions are acceptable. Create a rumor that this year's fighter is the best that Aaman has ever seen. Start these rumors in Zanth as well with your agents there. People will need to believe that Zzabul can be defeated in order for this to work."

Mand bowed his head,"Yes my lord. Is there anything else?"

Aamada pondered for a moment, then said,"Find the best fighters in Zanth vying for the Clash. If any seem remotely capable of beating Zzabul for he chance to represent Zanth, make sure they will not. Is that understood?"

"Yes, your holiness, I understand," Mand said.

"Very well, you are dismissed," Aamada said.

"Thank you, your holiness," Mand bowed slightly and left.

In a rare moment when he spoke his thoughts, Aamada murmured to himself, "After this is done, I will have to kill him and get a more competent Undermage." He suddenly clapped his hands and then made waving motions with his hands. A cue for me and the other guard to leave.

We left him there, still staring at the stars and pondering charts. He had just sentenced 3,000 followers to their probable deaths, but did not seemed concerned. If only the people knew.

I slipped down a corridor on the way to the guards quarters. They would discover the missing guard soon and I had enough information to leave my position anyway. Months of work had paid off. I would take the sewer route to the safe house, and tell my controller.

Good night's work, Dran, I thought, good night's work.

Here it is.

Dran, a Heterodoxist agent
Mand , an Undermage
Aamada, an Archmage

Surprisingly, Aamada is a PC, Mand and Dran are not. G'wan, kill em if you want. Aamada is a little too valuable as a villain for death just yet.

Feel perfectly free to pick up this storyline. I would love it. We haven't messed with each others stuff very much. Here's some hooks to get you started:

What will be the reaction of the Heterodoxists when they find out? What will they do?

Mand is uncomfortable about the situation. Will he try to sabotage it? Was Aamada serious when he thought to kill him?

Who is Mand's mysterious contact? How do they know Zzabul?

What about the representative to Aaman? Can he live up to the planted rumors of his greatness?

How can Lois Lane, Perry White and Jimmy Olson not know Clark Kent is Superman? These people are reporters, for Christs sake!

Deus tibi adsit,

Monk

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