RP channel logs: Czrel, Morneson

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[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Finally, the trio makes it to the city of poisons. Although worn-out and tired, Czrel seems glad to have been able to reach Sthiss Tor in one piece.
[RP]: (Morneson): Crysila quickly leads the group to her father's house, and stops in surprise.
[RP]: (Morneson): She looks around, frowning. 'I'm pretty sure this is the correct place...'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The entire city is a living puzzle. The buildings jut out from weird corners and the boggling streets often lead to smelly dead ends.
[RP]: (Morneson): She shakes her head, and knocks on the gates. There is a pause, then a shutter in the gate slides open.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): A small bald man stands behind the ajar gates. He looks at the trio with a queer expression. 'Can I help you?'
[RP]: (Morneson): 'It's me, Siphyla.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The man's eyes darts up and down, scrutinizing the three tired travellers carefully.
[RP]: (Morneson): The man frowns. 'We don't have a Siphyla here.' The shutter slams shut.
[RP]: (Morneson): Crysila sighs, rubbing her forehead wearily. 'I've been away for too long.'
[RP]: Morneson frowns at the girl. 'So are you Crysila or Siphyla?'
[RP]: Merchant Czrel chuckles at the many aliases Nyissans can come up with.
[RP]: (Morneson): Crysila shrugs. 'Crysila's what Harados chose to call me. Siphyla's my real name.'
[RP]: Merchant Czrel says 'Yes and.. Don't be so harsh on the girl.'
[RP]: Morneson scowls deeper. 'If you wish.'
[RP]: Morneson pulls up the hood of her cloak, looking around cautiously.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The Drasnian shakes his head in silent despair. The confusing streets zig-zagged deep into shrouded territory. 'Where do we start from?' He mutters to himself.
[RP]: (Morneson): A moment later, a few horses turn the corner and start cantering towards the trio. Before anyone can do anything, the horses and their riders are gone.
[RP]: Morneson stares after the horses. 'That was Harodus' butler.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'Butler?'
[RP]: Morneson does not answer, but turns to look over her shoulder. A carriage is trundling towards them now.
[RP]: (Morneson): The carriage comes to a halt, and the driver looks down his nose on them. 'Have you seen three riders coming along this street?'
[RP]: Morneson points wordlessly in the direction the butler went.
[RP]: (Morneson): The driver cracks his whip, and the horses trot in the indicated direction.
[RP]: Merchant Czrel smirks at their chance. Provided that the butler is here for Crysila's father, they can easily follow the carriage and get to him.
[RP]: Morneson draws her cloak tightly around herself. 'So what now, Czrel?'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The Drasnian beckons the two ladies to follow him. 'We follow the carriage,' Czrel whispers. 'At least it'll lead to the butler.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Siphyla nods, tightening her grip on the reins.
[RP]: Morneson mounts her horse. 'Are we going or what?'
[RP]: Merchant Czrel nods and jumps up his own mount. 'Let's go.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Siphyla follows suit, staring around at her home city.
[RP]: Morneson gestures. 'You lead... or I will. We're losing sight of the carriage.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The dark lanes of Sthiss Tor seem to shroud the carriage and hinder the three from following.
[RP]: Merchant Czrel grins. 'It's alright, I'll lead. I can still hear it loud and clear.'
[RP]: Morneson smiles thinly to herself.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The trio waste no time and starts to gallop into the alleys towards the direction of the carriage.
[RP]: (Morneson): Soon, the carriage stops outside a house. Five armed men guard the entrance, while two others unload something - or someone - from the carriage.
[RP]: (Morneson): Morneson's hackles rise, and she mutters 'I don't like the feel of this...'
[RP]: (Morneson): The butler emerges from the house, beckoning, and casts a furtive look around before disappearing into the house again.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): In the absence of supervision, the guards work sloppily, showing much lack of discipline.
[RP]: Morneson casts an appraising eye over the men. Of the five, two seem dazed, their eyes unfocussed and arms hanging slackly. The other three are jesting with each other, and one draws out a pack of cards and starts shuffling.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): While the other two simply heaved the heavy load unto the ground and leaves it there, neglected.
[RP]: (Morneson): Crysila peers at the house, trying to see why the thing next to the gates looks so familiar.
[RP]: (Morneson): The butler reappears, smiling and nodding at someone within the gate, and clambers into the carriage. The carriage then trundles away.
[RP]: Merchant Czrel frowns. 'Where is he going?' He mutters to himself while eyeing the butler's carriage slowly depart from the gates.
[RP]: (Morneson): A man steps out of the gates, surrounded by five other men. These look much tougher and disciplined. Crysila gasps.
[RP]: Merchant Czrel turns to the surprised girl. 'What's wrong?'
[RP]: (Morneson): Siphyla dismounts, almost tripping over her feet as she lands on the ground, and runs towards the man.
[RP]: (Morneson): The men look up, and draw their weapons. However, the man barks a word, and the guards quickly sheath them.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'Wait!' The Drasnian yells after the girl. 'It couldn't be..'
[RP]: Morneson gathers the reins of Siphyla's horse and rides after the girl. 'Probably is.' she says as she rides past Czrel.
[RP]: (Morneson): Siphyla hugs the man, who returns the hug with a tight embrace.
[RP]: (Morneson): As Morneson nears the guards, she looks down at the motionless bundle on the ground and reins in her horse. 'What...?'
[RP]: Merchant Czrel comes in from behind. 'What's in there?'
[RP]: Morneson frowns. 'What on earth is Harodus doing here? Tied and gagged... unconscious too.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Siphyla tugs the man's hand. 'They helped me get out. He's Czrel, and she's Morneson.'
[RP]: Morneson slips off her horse, and briefly inclines her head, before resuming her study of Harodus.
[RP]: Merchant Czrel shakes his head at the sight of the Tolnedran. 'All his pride..'
[RP]: (Morneson): The man smiles brightly, and ponders, then sticks out his hand. 'I'm Osadiss, her father. Thank you very much, Czrel, Morneson.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Out of mischief, the Drasnian uses his boots to prod the package. Then he turns and smiles at Osadiss. 'Pleased to meet you Sir.'
[RP]: Morneson pushes back her hood as she shakes the man's hand.
[RP]: (Morneson): Osadiss frowns at Harodus. 'What to do with him?'
[RP]: (Morneson): Osadiss sighs. 'Cheslat never understood Nyissan customs. We don't hold grudges, and my revenge on him is complete.'
[RP]: (Morneson): He shakes his head. 'Best come in. It's dangerous out here in these streets.' He leads Siphyla into the house.
[RP]: (Morneson): One of the guards picks up Harodus and slings him over his shoulder, and follows Osadiss.
[RP]: Morneson follows, but her hand does not stray far from her sword. A woman takes the reins of the horses.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): As the group enters the estate, the Drasnian scans his surroundings to ensure that no one suspicious is following them.
[RP]: (Morneson): Inside is a large room, empty save for a large carpet on the marble floor and a few big cushions.
[RP]: (Morneson): Osadiss settles comfortable onto one of the cushions with Siphyla, while his guards fan out behind him.
[RP]: (Morneson): The guard lowers Harodus onto the carpet, and draws his knife.
[RP]: (Morneson): Siphyla starts, but Osadiss whispers reassuringly to her.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Czrel enters just in time to see the guard trying to free Harodus from his packaging.
[RP]: (Morneson): The guard cuts through the bonds, and rips off the gag. He then pats Harodus gently on the cheek, then harder. 'He won't wake, sir.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'Careful with him,' Czrel smirks. 'This man has a lot of ego.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Osadiss frowns again. 'That's only to be expected of a Tolnedran. Fetch him some dog's tail.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'A dog's tail?' The Drasnian questions the Nyissan with surprise.
[RP]: (Morneson): The guard takes out a vial and pours its contents down Harodus' throat.
[RP]: (Morneson): Osadiss laughs. 'No, not the actual thing. It's a herb.'
[RP]: Morneson nods. 'Negates the effect of most sedatives... and also can be used to draw some species of spiders' poison from wounds.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Osadiss looks at Morneson in surprise. 'You know a lot,' he says.
[RP]: Morneson shrugs. 'Learnt them sometime ago.' She sits down cross-legged on the carpet.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The ignorant Drasnian could almost hear the Sendarian laughing at his foolishness. 'She thinks she does.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus stirs, and starts coughly weakly. He sits up, and continues coughing.
[RP]: Merchant Czrel grins at the Tolnedran. 'How are you feeling.. Sir?'
[RP]: (Morneson): A small, shrew-like man offers him a cup, and Harodus drinks from it.
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus coughs a little more, then says hoarsely, 'Where am I?'
[RP]: (Morneson): Siphyla stares at him coolly. 'My father's place.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus gazes uncomprehendingly at Siphyla and Osadiss, then his expression clears. 'I see,' he says flatly, and sniffs the cup suspiciously, 'Poisoned me yet?'
[RP]: (Morneson): Osadiss shakes his head. 'We're even now.' He frowns in puzzlement when Harodus starts chuckling softly.
[RP]: (Morneson): 'What's so funny?' Siphyla demands.
[RP]: (Morneson): 'Oh, nothing. Nothing.' He continues chuckling as he sips from the cup.
[RP]: Morneson stands up, and starts pacing around, drawing her cloak tighter around herself.
[RP]: Merchant Czrel glances slightly at the ranger.
[RP]: (Morneson): Osadiss asks 'Is there something wrong?' Morneson shakes her head. 'Just restless.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Finally unable to bear Harodus' attitude anymore, Czrel steps in and questions him. 'Don't you feel any shame?'
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus gives Czrel an indifferent look. 'Shame in what? Shame in being betrayed?'
[RP]: Morneson snorts with laughter, but does not say anything. She occasionally glances at the pillows.
[RP]: Merchant Czrel returns a look of apathy. 'Maybe you should reconsider your current situation... Sir.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus shrugs. 'Osadiss isn't going to do anything to me. What is there to worry about?'
[RP]: (Morneson): Siphyla dozes off in her father's arms.
[RP]: Morneson grimaces inwardly, as she paces up and down the edge of the carpet. The sign on the pillows... why were they so familiar?
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The Drasnian begins to notice the look on the inquisitive ranger.
[RP]: Morneson freezes in mid-stride, then continues pacing faster.
[RP]: (Morneson): Osadiss gazes at Harodus steadily. 'No wonder you're called the Viper.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus smiles slightly. 'Am I now?'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): While the two long-lost "friends" continue bickering, Czrel approaches the silent Sendarian.
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus sets aside the cup, and straightens his robes. 'I look forward to rebuilding what I've lost... it'll certainly be a challenge.'
[RP]: Morneson glances sideways at the approaching Drasnian. 'Yes?'
[RP]: (Morneson): Osadiss raises an eyebrow. 'You intrigue me.' 'You'll see.' 'Planning on kidnapping my daughter?' 'No.' 'What then?'
[RP]: Morneson nods at the pillow, and says in a very low voice 'Recognise that?'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'A golden soaring bird.. A vulture..' Czrel's voice begins to sound disturbed.
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus shrugs, but his eyes gleam oddly.
[RP]: Morneson nods encouragingly. 'And vultures link to...'
[RP]: Merchant Czrel nods. Then he shakes his head in an attempt to refuse what he has just learned.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'Of all people, not the Nyissan man, not Crysila's father..'
[RP]: Morneson turns her gaze to Osadiss. Osadiss and Harodus are watching each other cautiously, looking almost as though they were duelling.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The Drasnian sighs in despair. 'Belar..'
[RP]: Morneson shrugs. 'It's not so incredible. Nyissans are renowned slavers.'
[RP]: Morneson smiles wryly. 'Do you feel like posing the question? Or should I do it?'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'But Crysila's father?' Czrel argues. 'Fate can be cruel.'
[RP]: Morneson gestures at the finery and the gold embroidery. 'He should be pretty highly ranked in the organisation... he's rich, Czrel.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): After second thoughts, the Drasnian reluctantly accepts this painful truth.
[RP]: (Morneson): Osadiss shakes his head. 'I look forward to seeing you make a comeback. I do hate losing a customer.'
[RP]: (Morneson): 'Don't worry... I'll pay the standard price. I've got something else in mind.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'You are.. Sharper with words, ranger,' Czrel shakes his head slightly. 'You ask.'
[RP]: Morneson smiles grimly as she folds her arms tightly around her chest. 'Let the teacher take the risks, hm?'
[RP]: Morneson grins as she walks back to her cushion and seats herself. 'So, Osadiss, what does the sign mean?'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Now the Adventurer identity of the ranger begins to flow into Morneson. Czrel begins to believe the Sendarian. He lets out a slight grin.
[RP]: (Morneson): Osadiss looks uncomfortable. 'It means I'm part of the Vulture's Nest.'
[RP]: Morneson pretends to think about it. 'Really? What does it do?'
[RP]: Merchant Czrel listens intently behind the ranger.
[RP]: (Morneson): Osadiss shrugs. 'I'm afraid I can't tell you.' 'Must pay you pretty well for this finery.' 'It does.'
[RP]: Morneson now looks interested. 'Do you think you can get me a job within your organisation?'
[RP]: (Morneson): Osadiss shakes his head. 'We have enough personnel.'
[RP]: Morneson deflates a little. 'Really? Well, the thing is, I've heard about the Vulture's nest. From a few farmers in Sendaria... You've got quite an interesting reputation.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus listens attentively.
[RP]: (Morneson): Osadiss' expression becomes stony. 'Have you?' 'Oh, yes. A few cases of rape here, a murder there...'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Czrel lets the ranger do the speaking. Somehow he must find out more about Osadiss and his wretched organization.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): He looks around slyly, only to see guards towering all over him.
[RP]: (Morneson): Osadiss does not meet the ranger's gaze. 'That is not us.' 'No? I'm pretty sure it is. Every time a farm is plundered your pretty vulture is drawn in ash over the door.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Osadiss stands up, careful not to wake up Siphyla. 'I don't have to listen to this.' 'No,' Morneson agrees. 'You don't. But your daughter won't stand for it.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Observing that the guards at keeping their eyes on Harodus, he quickly slips pass them and sneaks deeper into the building.
[RP]: (Morneson): Osadis involuntarily glances down at the slumbering Siphyla. 'You see, she's been brought up as a Tolnedran. And Tolnedrans, like most of the West, don't like slavery. Am I correct, Harodus?'
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus is grinning. 'Of course you are.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): As the Drasnian explores further into the house, the booming voices back in the hall starts to soften and fade away.
[RP]: Morneson flashes the Tolnedran a smile. 'So, you see, you have a choice. Either you leave the organisation, or have to explain it to her... and she won't be happy.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Osadiss slumps slightly. 'I can't leave.'
[RP]: Morneson challenges him. 'Why not?'
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus murmurs 'Why not indeed...' to himself.
[RP]: (Morneson): Osadiss grinds his teeth together. 'If I tell you I'll be forced to kill you. If not me others will.' 'Don't worry, I've fought many times before.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The mansion has wierd corridors connecting different rooms together. It is like travelling inside a tunnel network.
[RP]: (Morneson): Osadiss looks Morneson up and down. 'You?' 'Yes, me.' There is silence.
[RP]: (Morneson): The guards listening do not seem perturbed by the conversation, despite the fact that all their weapons have the Vulture's Nest symbol engraved on their hilts.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Although very much confusing to a layman, Czrel navigates through the house with ease. He begins to pick up sounds of other people.
[RP]: Morneson looks around at the guards. 'None of your men seem to be rebelling, but they're also part of the organisation. I wonder why?'
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus laughs delightedly to himself. 'You know, Morneson, you can make a very good politician.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The Drasnian detects soft sounds of groaning. He puts his ears to the walls and listens carefully.
[RP]: Morneson flutters her eyes at Harodus. 'Why thank you.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Osadiss shakes his head, as though trying to deny everything she has said.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): A guard suddenly whips around the corner of the corridor. His eyes widen in shock as he sees the Drasnian intruder.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): But before he screams out for reinforcements, Czrel has already his dagger aimed at his throat.
[RP]: Morneson continues relentlessly. 'So. A man who's highly ranked in the Vulture's Nest. Whose guards, although seem to belong to the Nest, are loyal to him. I sense betrayal in the air...'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'Silence Nyissan,' The Drasnian advices the guard. 'One more inch...'
[RP]: (Morneson): The guards all cast questioning looks at Osadiss, who shakes his head. 'I suspect... we'll need her.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Osadiss continues, explaining. 'I can't just... kill people who've helped my daughter. She'll never forgive me. And what she said is right.'
[RP]: Merchant Czrel quickly covers the taller guard's mouth swiftly. In a moment, the Drasnian is behind the guard with his weapon gently prodding the Nyissan's back.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'Lead the way,' Czrel whispers to the guard. 'Take me to where you keep them.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The Nyissan guard bows his head in shame. Being overpowered by a Drasnian was never on his agenda. Reluctantly, he leads Czrel into the winding corridors.
[RP]: (Morneson): Osadiss stares at Morneson thoughtfully. 'We'll need to change our plans.' 'Sir?' 'Just call me Osadiss, Tyslon. No point in hiding any more.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): As the Drasnian coerces the guard on, the latter leads him closer to a place where he could hear soft music being played.
[RP]: Merchant Czrel shakes his head in disgust. 'Enjoying yourselves eh?' The Drasnian scowls at the Nyissan guard. 'I'll make you trade places with your prisoners.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Tyslon, the shrew-like man, nods. 'I understand. But what are we going to do then?'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Slowly closing in towards the room, Czrel detects that the groaning he heard were male voices. They sounded like drunk guards enjoying a show.
[RP]: (Morneson): Osadis grimaces, massaging his temples.
[RP]: Morneson shrugs as she carefully rearranges the folds of her cloak. 'I know nothing of your plan... you'll have to make your own decisions.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'Sshe'ss gooodd,' one of the guards slurrs. 'Hheehee, let'ss hhaavvee somee reaal funn womann!'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Sensing that someone may be in trouble, Czrel knocks the lead guard out cold and dashes into the smoky room.
[RP]: (Morneson): Osadiss eyes Harados speculatively. 'If she goes alone with that Drasnian they'll suspect something. I need someone to 'introduce' them as mecenaries to the Nest.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus smiles. 'I don't have anything on my schedule. Besides, I need some money to get back home.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): But as he arrives, he hears the male voices cry out in wimp. He sees a sword flashing before him, then silence.
[RP]: (Morneson): 'You want us you hire you?' Osadiss stares at Harodus, who smiles, sipping from his refilled cup of tea. 'I don't quite believe that, Viper.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): He begins to smell the pungent alcohol in the room. But no sooner, the scent of blood punctures his nostrils.
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus chuckles softly to himself. 'Part time only. Oh, and give me a vial of Athsat. I'll need it when I get back.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): As he cautiously proceeds into the room, he notices the crimson fluids splattered all over the floor.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Gradually, he spots a figure through the haze. A female, slumped upon a wooden bar, laid there with her eyes shut.
[RP]: (Morneson): 'Oddly enough, I don't quite trust you to a vial of Athsat.' 'Don't you? I'm disappointed. Get one of your henchmen in Tolnedra to give it to me then.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Osadiss shakes his head. 'You're not going to find out who works for me so easily.' Harodus frowns. 'Then I won't work for you.'
[RP]: Merchant Czrel quietly sneaks towards the woman. She is dressed in a translucent pink dress alike those of performing dancers.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Strangely, Czrel feels an affinity for the girl. He reaches out to wake the female when suddenly, she moves.
[RP]: Morneson speaks up. 'When I return to Camaar I'm going to pass through Tolnedra anyway. Give me the vial and I'll hold it for him.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Osadiss shakes his head again. 'You don't know what you're getting into. Vipers were never known for their...' 'For their honour?'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The girl's hand is fast. A blade flies at Czrel's neck before he could even touch her.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Instinctively, the Drasnian parries the sword with his left forearm. The blade saws into his flesh, tearing muscles and blood vessels apart.
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus gave Osadiss a chilly look. 'You're right, I don't have honour. But what I have in mind does not involve you, or her, or the boy. I'll be disadvantaged if I kill you.'
[RP]: Morneson smiles slightly. 'And us?'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Despite being slashed, Czrel reaches further with his wounded arm and grabs the fletching blade.
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus sips his tea, before answering. 'I gain nothing from your deaths, except your clan's emnity. So no.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The Drasnian focuses his strength on the arm to stop the girl from flailing it at him again.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Blood seeps from his palm and rolls gently down the tainted iron sword.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'Stop,' Czrel murmurs to the girl. 'I'm not Nyissan.'
[RP]: Morneson purses her lips in disapproval. 'You only ever think about things politically, don't you?' 'Dear girl, politics IS my life.' He smiles. 'Let's just say I've got a certain amount of affection for you.'
[RP]: Morneson glares at Harodus. 'I'm engaged.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The girl opens her eyes. Czrel could see that they are partly filled with hate and partly, with fear.
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus laughs, while Osadiss speaks over his laughter. 'I'll need you to infiltrate the headquarters and let my men in at midnight.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Still remaining silent and persistent on killing the Drasnian, the girl forces the sword deeper into his palm.
[RP]: Merchant Czrel grits his teeth in pain. 'I'm not part of them,' Czrel confesses to the girl. 'Trust me.. Please.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus wipes a few tears from his eyes. 'You know, I've got something against this plan. After all, not so long ago, I was a victim of such treachery. The only way you'll get me to do this is a kiss from Morneson.'
[RP]: Morneson lashes out with a hand and slaps him. 'How dare you!' The guards have also drawn their weapons.
[RP]: (Morneson): Osadiss stares at Harodus. 'You've... changed.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The girl's brows bend in doubt. 'I trusted.. them,' she stutters. 'But..'
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus gives Osadiss a mocking look, while rubbing his reddening cheek. 'More than you have ever imagined.' He sobers. 'Well, lady, you don't take jokes very well. My apologies for cracking such a... crude joke.'
[RP]: Merchant Czrel feels the strength dwindling from the girl's hand. The sword drops to the ground with a loud clatter, staining the floor with blood.
[RP]: Morneson grits her teeth.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Tears begins to roll from the girl's eyes. As the large pearly drops of emotion gently caresses her reddened cheeks, Czrel squats down and comforts her.
[RP]: (Morneson): Osadiss shakes his head again. 'Harodus... don't push it. Or else I WILL kill you.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'Don't touch me!' The feisty girl yells at the Drasnian. Although emotional, she remains defensive.
[RP]: (Morneson): He then looks at the trembling Morneson. 'Sorry, Morneson.'
[RP]: Morneson shakes her head. 'It's all right.' She levels a cold look at Harodus, who ignores it.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'I'm.. Here to help.' Czrel soothes the girl. 'Please trust me.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The girl looks at Czrel in the eyes. In response, Czrel drops his dagger and kicks it to a corner of the room.
[RP]: (Morneson): There is a long period of silence, during which Harodus giggles to himself. Osadiss and his men look at him disgustedly.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'How would I.. Know that,' the girl starts softly. 'That Drasnians aren't part of this.. Kidnapping too?'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The Drasnian desperately looks for something to proof his innocence while enduring the searing pain on his forearm and his palm.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Blood continues to gush from his wounds.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'Tell me!' The girl shouts at Czrel.
[RP]: Merchant Czrel closes his eyes for a short moment. Then he speaks.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'See this?' Czrel tries to unbutton a brooch from his cloak. 'This.. Brooch.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The trembling Drasnian removes a small ivory brooch from his cloak. It is the mark of the Adventurers.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'This?' The girl reaches out to touch the cool ivory ornament. Perhaps it could proof to the girl that he is not part of the nest.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Czrel, who is now shivering in utter pain, mutters 'Yes, I'm from the Adventurers. I've.. Come to help..'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The girl remains silent as she clutches the brooch tightly. She continues to look Czrel in his eyes.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'At least.. Trust me..' Czrel begins to feel his strength crumbling. 'I can.. Set you.. Free..'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The girl sobs. Then she wipes her tears from her cheeks. 'Perhaps.'
[RP]: Morneson says flatly 'You've gone mad.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus shakes his head, giggling. 'Nope, I haven't,' he says, voice pitched higher than usual.
[RP]: (Morneson): Osadiss grimaces. 'What are you doing?'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): But Czrel can stand the giddiness no longer. He has lost a lot of blood due to his wounds. He takes one last look at the girl and then darkness enshrouded his vision.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): But before he fell into a total state of unconsciousness, the girl gasps and he hears her last line. 'I trust you.. Please.. Don't die..'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Black. Silent. Still.
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus covers his mouth, chortling. 'You do realise Czrel's been gone for most of this conversation right?'
[RP]: Morneson starts, looking around. 'Fool!'
[RP]: Morneson swears under her breath as she scrambles to her feet, while Harodus watches her with a look of amusement and satisfaction. 'Wipe that smile off your face,' she snarled at him.
[RP]: (Morneson): Osadiss exchanges looks with Tyslon, and Tyslon makes a series of quick gestures. The guards in the room scatter as they begin searching the house.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): From the darkness, the Drasnian's vision twirls repeatedly into a myriad of varied colours.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Red, blue, yellow, green, orange, pink and purple..
[RP]: Morneson follows Tyslon down a corridor. The soft footfalls are the only sounds they make as they turn the corner, then Tyslon stops.
[RP]: (Morneson): The Nyissan shoots a worried glance at the ranger. 'We're heading down to... where the slaves are kept.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): He begins to hear a soft voice. A lady's voice, calling out to him.
[RP]: (Morneson): Morneson's eyes harden. 'I see,' she says quietly. Tyslon glances at her again, then continues onwards.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): His eyelids feel like they weigh a shipload of trout. Nevertheless he slowly pry open them.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'They are coming, we have to run,' a worried voice rings in his head. It comes from the same girl.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Czrel begins to regain consciousness. Through his blurred vision, he sees a girl with arms around him, trying to drag him out of the room.
[RP]: (Morneson): Tyslon briefly ducks into a small passage branching from the corridor, checking the rooms. Morneson waits impatiently.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'Can you walk? I'm very sorry I hurt you,' the girl apologises. 'I didn't thought anyone would come to rescue me.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The Drasnian only manages a mumble. 'I'll try.' His arm is still throbbing in pain, his wounds still gushing crimson blood.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The girl nods. 'I can feel them coming our way,' she stutters. 'Hurry.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Tylson emerges from the dim passage, and leads the way further down the corridor, occasionally peering into empty rooms.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): With that, Czrel summons his remaining strength and staggers out of the smoky bar, following closely behind the dancer girl.
[RP]: Morneson looks around. 'You know, this house is remarkably normal for a Nyissan house.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'Wait, not so fast,' the Drasnian calls out quietly to the dancer.
[RP]: (Morneson): The corner of Tylson's mouth twitches. 'Oh yes, Osadiss wouldn't stand for the traditional architecture. Loses too many slaves and servants, he says.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Turning her head around, she looks at the Drasnian in his eyes. 'I guess it's my fault after all.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Then she reaches out and gently holds Czrel's hand.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The Drasnian has never held a girl's hand in his life before. Perhaps his mother's. Or a a neighbour's daughter. Perhaps...
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'Quick, I know the way.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The dancer swiftly leads the wounded Drasnian into another series of corridors and doorways.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): As they moved along, Czrel's blood stains the white floor beneath his feet.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): But they have no time to erase their trail. They only have time for escape.
[RP]: Morneson prays to the Seven Gods that Czrel is fine. Losing track of her charge is the last thing she needs in Sthiss Tor - she could think of at least half a dozen unpleasant fates.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Finally, after a dozen of doorways and stairwells, the girl opens a door and the couple step out into the darkness of the night.
[RP]: (Morneson): Tylson trips over something and starts cursing. 'Damn fool! What in Issa's name do you think you're doing?'
[RP]: Morneson helps Tylson onto his feet. 'I think he's knocked out.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Tylson, however, is not paying attention to the unconscious guard, but instead sniffing the air.
[RP]: Morneson flinches slightly as the sharp tang of blood, mixed with the smell of sweat, smoke and alcohol, hits her.
[RP]: (Morneson): Tylson draws his short sword and his dagger, and steps into the room cautiously. Morneson also draws out her own short sword, and follows him into the room.
[RP]: (Morneson): Inside are the corpses of several guards, and a fresh trail of blood leading further into the smoky room. Some spilled beer drips from the table onto the ground.
[RP]: (Morneson): Tylson turns pale, and draws out a set of keys. 'You go ahead and follow the blood trail... I'll check on the slaves.'
[RP]: Morneson nods and is about to leave when Tylson grabs her arm. She gives him a puzzled look.
[RP]: (Morneson): 'Don't you need a lantern or a torch?' 'No. I've had plenty of practice skulking around at night.' They stare at each other. 'Good luck. Issa be with you.' He turns sharply on his heel and inspects a lock.
[RP]: Morneson draws a fold of her cloak around her blade, and silently tracks the trail of blood past stout doors and bars. Her lips curl in disgust as she listens to the pitiful cries of slaves.
[RP]: Morneson pauses as she reaches an open door, and peers out cautiously at the dark street.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): A cold breeze blows mercilessly across the damp, dark Nyissan street.
[RP]: Morneson hesitates, then takes out a piece of chalk and quickly scrawls 'tracking Czrel, can't help you, sry, must leave' on the wall.
[RP]: Morneson sighs, briefly touching her Adventurer's badge for luck, and resumes her search for Czrel.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Although the sun has set, and the dusk has crept into the houses of the Nyissans, some residents are still outside on the streets peddling strange herbs.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): But they remain indifferent to a strange couple, wrapping around one another and tumbling through the quiet night.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Czrel regains his composure and is able to follow the swift footed girl around the maze like city.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'How much longer.. Girl?' The Drasnian enquires.
[RP]: Morneson draws her hood over her head with her free hand, and sheaths her short sword. She palms her dagger out of its scabbard and follows the thinning trail, wondering whether the victim was bleeding to death, or that the wound was clotting.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The dancer slows down and looks back at Czrel. 'It's dark and I'm not familiar with the outsides,' the girl confesses. 'I didn't arrive on a red carpet you know.'
[RP]: Morneson speeds up to a quick trot, half hoping the bleeding would stop and half hoping it would continue.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Czrel returns a light grin. He is impress that the girl still has the heart to joke after her ordeal.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Seeing him smile, the dancer tightens her grasp on the Drasnian's hand. She gives him a strange look and continues into the darkness of the night.
[RP]: Morneson pauses, glancing at the sky, and wraps her cloak tightly around herself.
[RP]: Morneson stops abruptly when she sees the trail thin to nothing. She resists the urge to swear, choosing instead to ask a passing guard. 'Have you seen a young Drasnian?'
[RP]: (Morneson): The Nyissan guard, thankfully not fully drugged, nods. 'He wash being 'elped by dish...' he slurs, and frowns, concentrating. 'Dish... Nadrak girl. That way.' He pointed.
[RP]: Morneson offers a brief thanks and runs in the direction, hoping that he is correct.
[RP]: Morneson hurries after Czrel, wondering what on earth he is doing with a Nadrak girl. No doubt the girl had her dagger pressed against his throat...
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The couple runs deeper and deeper into a dark alley. Czrel still has no idea about the background of the girl, but he decides to keep his mouth shut to avoid unnecessary waste of energy.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'You sure it's this way?' Czrel enquires again, breaking the silence between them.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The girl looks behind and gives him a shrug. Strangely, Czrel feels like the girl has something up her sleeves.
[RP]: Morneson glances up at the stars again. 'Oh great, they're leaving the city. Idiot!'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'Just come along, we might make it out of here.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Czrel's eyes widen. 'Out?' He begins to doubt this little journey he is having. 'But to where?'
[RP]: (Morneson): Something tells Morneson to duck, and she does so, just in time to hear a blade slicing air above her head. She throws herself forwards into a roll, and stands up, to find herself facing a hooded figure.
[RP]: Morneson tries to draw her short sword, but it jams in her sheath, and brings up her dagger just in time to parry a blow. Her arm goes numb as she yanks out the blade and slashes downwards at her assailant.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The dancer stops in her tracks. She looks at the Drasnian in his eyes again. This time, her eyes are nearly filled with tears.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Czrel feels puzzled and pity for the girl. 'Don't cry,' he comforts her. 'You won't look pretty anymore if you do.'
[RP]: (Morneson): The figure flinches back, and Morneson breaks into a run. She stops when she has reached the end of the street, where a guard is patrolling. 'Have... have you seen... a... Drasnian?'
[RP]: Morneson glances over her shoulder. The figure is gone.
[RP]: (Morneson): The guard nods, pointing to his left, and she forces herself to run again, hoping that her assailant was gone.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The girl sobs. 'I miss home.'
[RP]: Morneson staggers to a halt, thoroughly winded, at the intersection, and stiffens when she feels a point prick her back.
[RP]: (Morneson): 'Welcome back, Myara,' a familiar voice drawls.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): But before the Drasnian can question her further, the girl unwarily step into a hole and falls into a dark tunnel, bringing along the wounded Drasnian.
[RP]: Morneson forces herself to remain calm, quelling her rising panic. 'Hello, Sthanos,' she says coolly.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): They plummet through what seems to be the city's floor.
[RP]: (Morneson): Sthanos draws her back into an alcove, and turns her around. The dagger blade is now at her throat. 'Why're you running after the little Drasnian?'
[RP]: Morneson snaps 'It's none of your business.' 'Ooohhh, look at this. New badge. Who do you work for now?'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): After a long plunge, the odd couple find themselves landing in a pool of murky mud.
[RP]: (Morneson): Sthanos spins Morneson around, slamming her hard into the wall, then, with his free hand, tilts the brooch.
[RP]: Morneson winces, trying to regain her breath. Sthanos continues. 'A little "A". How pretty.'
Morneson carefully manoeuvres her dagger until it is at his stomach. 'Let me go, or I'll rip your guts out.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Czrel recovers himself. He remembers the fall and the splattering of the wet soil. Then he recalls the girl.
[RP]: (Morneson): Sthanos sucks in a deep breath with alarm, then laughs. His breath is fruity, laden with strange spices. 'Must be the drug I'm taking... Not as good as I was before. But that's thanks to you, isn't it?'
[RP]: Morneson says nothing.
[RP]: (Morneson): 'Well, go run after your little boy. Take good care of him. I'll find out where you work... and give you hell.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'Girl?' He scans around the swampy mess trying to look for the dancer.
[RP]: (Morneson): Sthanos withdraws his dagger, and slips away. Morneson slumps down with relief.
[RP]: Morneson mutters 'Too close, too close' before standing up again. She returns to the intersection, listening intently for unusual sounds. There are none.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Queerly, although the girl and him are nothing but strangers, he feels desperate losing sight of her.
[RP]: Morneson crouches down, examining the dirt road, and follows the freshes tracks down a winding alley.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'This is no time for your silly jokes Miss!' Czrel begins to yell. Darkness starts to take it's toll on the Drasnian's vision.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): He continues to trudge around the mud. Then he catches sight of a piece of glittering clothing.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): He recognises the material. It is a piece from the translucent dress that the dancer was wearing. He hopes that nothing has happened to her.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): As Czrel moves on forward, he sees a figure of a lady, her back facing him, resting against a tree.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Excited that he has found the girl, he calls out to her.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'Girl, are you hurt?'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): He dashes towards the girl, but only to be stopped by the dancer herself.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'No.. No more closer.. Czrel..' she stutters.
[RP]: Morneson stops every so often to listen carefully and scan her surroundings and the rooftops, while checking the tracks to make sure she is heading in the right direction.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'No closer?' The baffled Drasnian replied.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'Stay away... From me,' the girl pleads. 'Please...'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Czrel ignores the girl. He slowly treks towards her, only to find a wide cut behind on her delicate back.
[RP]: Morneson hesitates at a junction, noting the slight scuffling, then turns and starts down yet another alley.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'But you're hurt,' Czrel says softly as he notices the wound. He slowly closes in on the dancer.
[RP]: Morneson collides into a Nyissan, and mutters an apology as she moves past the man.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The sudden stumble causes a small sharp edge in the tunnel to cut at the girl's clothing and thus the flesh on her back.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Czrel advances to a distance where he can have a better view of her gaping wound.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'You're bleeding badly girl,' the Drasnian tells her. 'Don't move too much.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): He recalls having some extra bandages from the ranger and begins to feel his pockets for them.
[RP]: Morneson freezes, as she catches a flicker at the edge of her vision. She spins around, but sees no one.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): He finds them and carefully unwinds them. Then as gently as he can he tries to place the clean white cloth onto the girl's wound.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Immediately, the girl responds. 'Don't touch me!'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The Drasnian is a little taken aback but nonetheless, he carries on to apply slight pressure on the girl's back.
[RP]: Morneson tries to calm herself as she follows the tracks, ignoring her twinging leg.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The dancer struggles to maintain her position of resting with her bare back against him.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'Relax,' the Drasnian coaxes her. 'You'll be fine.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'I know,' the girl replies sharply. 'I'll lob your head off.. If you peep.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): It is now that Czrel realises why the girl has been so defensive.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Her dress, torn during the plunge, can no longer protect her modesty. That was the reason why she had been trying to keep the Drasnian away.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'So you would rather bleed to death than letting me see you?' The Drasnian let out a chuckle as he tries to stop her bleeding.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The girl quickly folds her arms to cover her chest and winces. 'Men... Not a single one is good.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'Does it hurt?' Czrel asks out of concern.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'You meant my wound or my pride?' The dancer remains protective of herself.
[RP]: Morneson slips on a puddle of something and stumbles. She thanks the Gods she did not fall, trying not to think what it could be.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The young man laughs at the girl's words. He does not reply, knowing that the girl might even have a sharper tongue than the ranger.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The bleeding subsides. Then he tries to wrap the bandage around her dainty waist.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'Stop!' The girl almost screams. 'What are you doing?'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): As she struggles, she falls backwards into Czrel's open arms.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'Stop moving..' Czrel's words gets cut off.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): In front of the young man is a sight he had never before seen. A beautiful girl, in his arms, almost fully undressed.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Czrel remains dumbfounded. Her soft luscious lips pout as she blushes feverishly. Her body, previously tensed up, now slowly slumps into the comforts of the Drasnian's arms.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'Are you happy now?' the girl asks him.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Czrel says nothing. He smiles lightly and slowly, the couple gently lock their lips.
[RP]: Morneson peers into the hole in the middle of the street, and stares in utter disbelief.
[RP]: Morneson regains her composure, quickly lowering herself into the tunnel. 'Czrel!' her voice cracks like a whip. 'What do you think you're doing, kissing a girl after running away from Osadiss?'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'Not now!' The words rage in the Drasnian's mind.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The sudden interruption by the ranger breaks the couple off. Czrel quickly takes off his cloak to cover the girl's bare body.
[RP]: Morneson scowls at the couple. 'Who're you?' she demands, glaring at the Nadrak.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'Morneson..' Czrel turns around and begins his explaination. 'Calm down first.'
[RP]: Morneson snaps 'I am calm. I just want to know why you snuck off without even so much a goodbye.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The girl withdraws behind the young man. 'Who is she?' She whispers to Czrel.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'My mentor... I suppose,' Czrel whispers back. 'Don't worry, she's not one of them.'
[RP]: Morneson folds her arms and puts on an air of one who's waiting.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The Drasnian stand up and walks towards Morneson. 'I got hurt and she helped me escape. See?' Czrel says as he shows off his dried wound to the ranger.
[RP]: Morneson barely spares the wound a glance. 'I see,' she says acidly, 'And may I enquire how you became hurt?'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Her words shoot at Czrel like an arrow to the head. 'No guessing, the guards maybe,' Czrel tries to lie to the ranger.
[RP]: Morneson gives him a long look. 'And what exactly did you do to make the guards attack you? Free your loved one? So that you can just run away without even so much a thought about the dangers of the city?'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Czrel gives the ranger a sheepish grin. 'Most importantly, we're safe now isn't it?'
[RP]: Morneson scowls. 'I don't even know why I volunteered for this task. So. Answer my question. Who is she?'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'I don't even know,' the Drasnian thinks. The previous question hurt like an arrow. This one whaps his head like a battering ram. 'She's.. She's..'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'Vealare,' the girl snaps at the ranger. 'From Yar Gurak, who wants to know?'
[RP]: Morneson stares at Vealare. 'Oh charming. Absolutely terrific. So what are you two lovebirds going to do? Elope?'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'Vealare..' The name echoes in Czrel's mind. Dazed, he gives the ranger another sheepish look.
[RP]: Morneson catches the Drasnian's surprised look. 'You mean you didn't know her name?'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The Drasnian says nothing. He turns to the girl and beams broadly to her.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Warmly, the girl smiles back.
[RP]: Morneson rolls her eyes. 'Well, where are you two headed?'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Czrel continues to stare at Vealare dreamily. The girl answers the ranger. 'I'm going back home, I know he'll come along with me.'
[RP]: Morneson laughs, shaking her head. 'And you two plan to do that with nothing except what Czrel's carrying. You do realise our supplies are still with Osadiss right?'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'Osadiss?' The girl has never heard that name.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Czrel turns back to Morneson. 'Speaking of which, how did you escaped?'
[RP]: Morneson shrugs. 'I didn't escape. Wasn't trapped in the first place.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'I wouldn't bet on it that Osadiss will let you go like this,' Czrel replies. 'After you discovered his secret.'
[RP]: Morneson shrugs again. 'Well I have to go with you. There is no way I'm letting you traverse the Nyissan Jungle alone.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'What about them... Vultures?' Czrel frowns. The girl hastily moves behind the Drasnian's back, trying to avoid the ranger's viscous stares.
[RP]: Morneson smiles thinly. 'I think Harodus, if not Osadiss, has realised that my loyalty lies with the clan, not with his plan.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'What about our supplies?' The Drasnian questions Morneson.
[RP]: Morneson shoots Czrel a very hard look. 'We have to manage without them.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'There is no way we can go back to get them?' Vealare quietly enquires. The young man looks back at the girl, eyes widened at her courage to question the ranger's decisions.
[RP]: Morneson replies scathingly 'If you can think of a way of smuggling horses out under twelve guard's noses I'll be happy to listen.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Siding with his newfound love, Czrel adds to Vealare's defensive. 'We could just steal some supplies back.. Would be easy wouldn't it?'
[RP]: Morneson shrugs. 'Well since you've decided to take matters into your own hands I'm not making your decisions.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Even before she finishes her words, the rash young man has already began to make his way back up the tunnel. He glances at the Sendarian. 'Coming along?'
[RP]: Morneson glares at him and mutters 'This is why I never wanted children' as she hurries after Czrel.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Vealare only smiles at the bickering pair. She realises that she needs rest and calls out to the Drasnian. 'Czrel... I'll just wait here.'
[RP]: Morneson gives Vealare a withering look. 'I'll stay with her. Go ahead and rob some poor Nyissan's goods.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Czrel takes one last look at the Nadrak girl and his mentor, smirks smartly and disappears up the short tunnel.
[RP]: Morneson ignores the Nadrak, keeping her attention focussed on the surroundings.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The air carries the smell of strange, unfamiliar berries. Perhaps he did not smell it previously due to his dizziness.
[RP]: (Morneson): Sthanos, lying flat on a rooftop, watches as the Drasnian emerges from the tunnel.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The Drasnian pulls up his hood and slips into the shadows casted by protuding and awkward buildings. He feels a queer sensation of being watched.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): He scans around his area and finds no one. Deciding that it may be just the cold breeze, he shrugs it off and creeps deeper into the darkness.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Czrel reaches the market square, a common place where the Nyissans do their peddling and trading.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): He hides behind a pillar and looks around for a store which he can 'borrow' some items from.
[RP]: (Morneson): Sthanos flits from one rooftop to the next, keeping a close eye on the Drasnian and his movements.
[RP]: Morneson ignores Vealare's attempts to talk to her.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Czrel slithers around the darkness swiftly and like a slippery eel swimming in the waters.
[RP]: (Morneson): Sthanos smiles to himself. Myara did know how to train her students.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): He spots light behind a small shack built from the side of a strange building and decides to take a peek.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'A store! Just my luck!' He thinks, silently smiling to himself.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): He slips to the backdoor and picks the lock with ease.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Then he quietly opens the wooden door.
[RP]: (Morneson): Sthanos slips down from a rooftop into a dark alley, while keeping his eyes on the Drasnian.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The inside of the shack is lit by a dim lamp. The walls are covered with shelves filled with outdoor equipment.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Czrel rubs his hands together in a greedy manner. He begins to pick out the ropes, dried rations and other stuff from the huge shelves.
[RP]: (Morneson): Sthanos carefully draws his blackened blade, and waits patiently near the alley Czrel entered the square from.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Then he finds a backpack and throws everything inside. 'Shopping without payment,' he grins. As quietly as he came in, he leaves the wooden shack.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Thinking that it would be safest that he takes the same route back to the tunnel, he advances towards the market square and hides behind the same pillar.
[RP]: (Morneson): Sthanos shifts his grip on the dagger, and pads silently along the pillar's shadow up to the Drasnian.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The Drasnian hears a soft rustling. It tempts him to turn back to find the source of the sound. But thought of his love waiting for him below with the scornful ranger pushes him on.
[RP]: (Morneson): Sthanos smiles to himself as he quickly slips the dagger under the Drasnian's neck. 'Thought I'd say hello to Myara's little boy.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): A figure behind the assailant chortles smugly. 'Enough of hellos to my hood already?'
[RP]: (Morneson): Sthanos immediately throws himself sideways into a roll.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Czrel steps out of the shadows and aims his dagger at the aggressor's head. 'Stop running, you'll only die tired!'
[RP]: (Morneson): Sthanos gets onto his feet. 'I won't get tired.' He laughs as he takes a few steps backwards, keeping his back to the moon. 'Pretty little Drasnian boy... Myara must care a lot about you.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'I don't know any.. Myara,' Czrel grits his teeth. 'Identify yourself.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Sthanos does a small bow, but keeps his eyes on the Drasnian. 'You don't know Myara? She's the green cloaked woman. As for me, I'm the man she ruined.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'Ruin?' The young man's curiosity begins to be aroused. 'Elaborate.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Sthanos says flatly 'She ruined my reputation as a trader. So now I wander the streets... without a copper to my name. Sad enough for you?'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'If it's money you wanted, you needn't go after my life,' Czrel replies tonelessly. 'If it's for revenge..'
[RP]: (Morneson): Sthanos does not pay much attention on the Drasnian's words, but instead watches his movements very closely.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'Then I wouldn't hesitate to finish up what Morneson started!'
[RP]: (Morneson): Sthanos laughs hollowly. 'So her name is Morneson?'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Czrel begins to grow wary of the man's every move. 'I suppose it's her you were rambling about.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Sthanos bares his teeth. 'Perhaps, perhaps not.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Czrel sighs and shakes his head. 'I'm kind of in a hurry,' the Drasnian grows bored of the man's mind games.
[RP]: (Morneson): Sthanos grins. 'Is that so? Go run back to mummy then. And tell her Sthanos is going to see her... soon.' He darts into an alley and disappears.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Czrel watches the darkness devour the stranger. He shrugs, sheaths his weapon and leaves for the tunnel.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Within moments, the Drasnian peeks out of the tunnel and carefully lowers himself onto the muddy ground.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Finally, the trio makes it to the city of poisons. Although worn-out and tired, Czrel seems glad to have been able to reach Sthiss Tor in one piece.
[RP]: (Morneson): Crysila quickly leads the group to her father's house, and stops in surprise.
[RP]: (Morneson): She looks around, frowning. 'I'm pretty sure this is the correct place...'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The entire city is a living puzzle. The buildings jut out from weird corners and the boggling streets often lead to smelly dead ends.
[RP]: (Morneson): She shakes her head, and knocks on the gates. There is a pause, then a shutter in the gate slides open.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): A small bald man stands behind the ajar gates. He looks at the trio with a queer expression. 'Can I help you?'
[RP]: (Morneson): 'It's me, Siphyla.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The man's eyes darts up and down, scrutinizing the three tired travellers carefully.
[RP]: (Morneson): The man frowns. 'We don't have a Siphyla here.' The shutter slams shut.
[RP]: (Morneson): Crysila sighs, rubbing her forehead wearily. 'I've been away for too long.'
[RP]: Morneson frowns at the girl. 'So are you Crysila or Siphyla?'
[RP]: Merchant Czrel chuckles at the many aliases Nyissans can come up with.
[RP]: (Morneson): Crysila shrugs. 'Crysila's what Harados chose to call me. Siphyla's my real name.'
[RP]: Merchant Czrel says 'Yes and.. Don't be so harsh on the girl.'
[RP]: Morneson scowls deeper. 'If you wish.'
[RP]: Morneson pulls up the hood of her cloak, looking around cautiously.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The Drasnian shakes his head in silent despair. The confusing streets zig-zagged deep into shrouded territory. 'Where do we start from?' He mutters to himself.
[RP]: (Morneson): A moment later, a few horses turn the corner and start cantering towards the trio. Before anyone can do anything, the horses and their riders are gone.
[RP]: Morneson stares after the horses. 'That was Harodus' butler.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'Butler?'
[RP]: Morneson does not answer, but turns to look over her shoulder. A carriage is trundling towards them now.
[RP]: (Morneson): The carriage comes to a halt, and the driver looks down his nose on them. 'Have you seen three riders coming along this street?'
[RP]: Morneson points wordlessly in the direction the butler went.
[RP]: (Morneson): The driver cracks his whip, and the horses trot in the indicated direction.
[RP]: Merchant Czrel smirks at their chance. Provided that the butler is here for Crysila's father, they can easily follow the carriage and get to him.
[RP]: Morneson draws her cloak tightly around herself. 'So what now, Czrel?'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The Drasnian beckons the two ladies to follow him. 'We follow the carriage,' Czrel whispers. 'At least it'll lead to the butler.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Siphyla nods, tightening her grip on the reins.
[RP]: Morneson mounts her horse. 'Are we going or what?'
[RP]: Merchant Czrel nods and jumps up his own mount. 'Let's go.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Siphyla follows suit, staring around at her home city.
[RP]: Morneson gestures. 'You lead... or I will. We're losing sight of the carriage.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The dark lanes of Sthiss Tor seem to shroud the carriage and hinder the three from following.
[RP]: Merchant Czrel grins. 'It's alright, I'll lead. I can still hear it loud and clear.'
[RP]: Morneson smiles thinly to herself.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The trio waste no time and starts to gallop into the alleys towards the direction of the carriage.
[RP]: (Morneson): Soon, the carriage stops outside a house. Five armed men guard the entrance, while two others unload something - or someone - from the carriage.
[RP]: (Morneson): Morneson's hackles rise, and she mutters 'I don't like the feel of this...'
[RP]: (Morneson): The butler emerges from the house, beckoning, and casts a furtive look around before disappearing into the house again.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): In the absence of supervision, the guards work sloppily, showing much lack of discipline.
[RP]: Morneson casts an appraising eye over the men. Of the five, two seem dazed, their eyes unfocussed and arms hanging slackly. The other three are jesting with each other, and one draws out a pack of cards and starts shuffling.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): While the other two simply heaved the heavy load unto the ground and leaves it there, neglected.
[RP]: (Morneson): Crysila peers at the house, trying to see why the thing next to the gates looks so familiar.
[RP]: (Morneson): The butler reappears, smiling and nodding at someone within the gate, and clambers into the carriage. The carriage then trundles away.
[RP]: Merchant Czrel frowns. 'Where is he going?' He mutters to himself while eyeing the butler's carriage slowly depart from the gates.
[RP]: (Morneson): A man steps out of the gates, surrounded by five other men. These look much tougher and disciplined. Crysila gasps.
[RP]: Merchant Czrel turns to the surprised girl. 'What's wrong?'
[RP]: (Morneson): Siphyla dismounts, almost tripping over her feet as she lands on the ground, and runs towards the man.
[RP]: (Morneson): The men look up, and draw their weapons. However, the man barks a word, and the guards quickly sheath them.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'Wait!' The Drasnian yells after the girl. 'It couldn't be..'
[RP]: Morneson gathers the reins of Siphyla's horse and rides after the girl. 'Probably is.' she says as she rides past Czrel.
[RP]: (Morneson): Siphyla hugs the man, who returns the hug with a tight embrace.
[RP]: (Morneson): As Morneson nears the guards, she looks down at the motionless bundle on the ground and reins in her horse. 'What...?'
[RP]: Merchant Czrel comes in from behind. 'What's in there?'
[RP]: Morneson frowns. 'What on earth is Harodus doing here? Tied and gagged... unconscious too.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Siphyla tugs the man's hand. 'They helped me get out. He's Czrel, and she's Morneson.'
[RP]: Morneson slips off her horse, and briefly inclines her head, before resuming her study of Harodus.
[RP]: Merchant Czrel shakes his head at the sight of the Tolnedran. 'All his pride..'
[RP]: (Morneson): The man smiles brightly, and ponders, then sticks out his hand. 'I'm Osadiss, her father. Thank you very much, Czrel, Morneson.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Out of mischief, the Drasnian uses his boots to prod the package. Then he turns and smiles at Osadiss. 'Pleased to meet you Sir.'
[RP]: Morneson pushes back her hood as she shakes the man's hand.
[RP]: (Morneson): Osadiss frowns at Harodus. 'What to do with him?'
[RP]: (Morneson): Osadiss sighs. 'Cheslat never understood Nyissan customs. We don't hold grudges, and my revenge on him is complete.'
[RP]: (Morneson): He shakes his head. 'Best come in. It's dangerous out here in these streets.' He leads Siphyla into the house.
[RP]: (Morneson): One of the guards picks up Harodus and slings him over his shoulder, and follows Osadiss.
[RP]: Morneson follows, but her hand does not stray far from her sword. A woman takes the reins of the horses.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): As the group enters the estate, the Drasnian scans his surroundings to ensure that no one suspicious is following them.
[RP]: (Morneson): Inside is a large room, empty save for a large carpet on the marble floor and a few big cushions.
[RP]: (Morneson): Osadiss settles comfortable onto one of the cushions with Siphyla, while his guards fan out behind him.
[RP]: (Morneson): The guard lowers Harodus onto the carpet, and draws his knife.
[RP]: (Morneson): Siphyla starts, but Osadiss whispers reassuringly to her.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Czrel enters just in time to see the guard trying to free Harodus from his packaging.
[RP]: (Morneson): The guard cuts through the bonds, and rips off the gag. He then pats Harodus gently on the cheek, then harder. 'He won't wake, sir.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'Careful with him,' Czrel smirks. 'This man has a lot of ego.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Osadiss frowns again. 'That's only to be expected of a Tolnedran. Fetch him some dog's tail.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'A dog's tail?' The Drasnian questions the Nyissan with surprise.
[RP]: (Morneson): The guard takes out a vial and pours its contents down Harodus' throat.
[RP]: (Morneson): Osadiss laughs. 'No, not the actual thing. It's a herb.'
[RP]: Morneson nods. 'Negates the effect of most sedatives... and also can be used to draw some species of spiders' poison from wounds.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Osadiss looks at Morneson in surprise. 'You know a lot,' he says.
[RP]: Morneson shrugs. 'Learnt them sometime ago.' She sits down cross-legged on the carpet.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The ignorant Drasnian could almost hear the Sendarian laughing at his foolishness. 'She thinks she does.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus stirs, and starts coughly weakly. He sits up, and continues coughing.
[RP]: Merchant Czrel grins at the Tolnedran. 'How are you feeling.. Sir?'
[RP]: (Morneson): A small, shrew-like man offers him a cup, and Harodus drinks from it.
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus coughs a little more, then says hoarsely, 'Where am I?'
[RP]: (Morneson): Siphyla stares at him coolly. 'My father's place.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus gazes uncomprehendingly at Siphyla and Osadiss, then his expression clears. 'I see,' he says flatly, and sniffs the cup suspiciously, 'Poisoned me yet?'
[RP]: (Morneson): Osadiss shakes his head. 'We're even now.' He frowns in puzzlement when Harodus starts chuckling softly.
[RP]: (Morneson): 'What's so funny?' Siphyla demands.
[RP]: (Morneson): 'Oh, nothing. Nothing.' He continues chuckling as he sips from the cup.
[RP]: Morneson stands up, and starts pacing around, drawing her cloak tighter around herself.
[RP]: Merchant Czrel glances slightly at the ranger.
[RP]: (Morneson): Osadiss asks 'Is there something wrong?' Morneson shakes her head. 'Just restless.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Finally unable to bear Harodus' attitude anymore, Czrel steps in and questions him. 'Don't you feel any shame?'
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus gives Czrel an indifferent look. 'Shame in what? Shame in being betrayed?'
[RP]: Morneson snorts with laughter, but does not say anything. She occasionally glances at the pillows.
[RP]: Merchant Czrel returns a look of apathy. 'Maybe you should reconsider your current situation... Sir.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus shrugs. 'Osadiss isn't going to do anything to me. What is there to worry about?'
[RP]: (Morneson): Siphyla dozes off in her father's arms.
[RP]: Morneson grimaces inwardly, as she paces up and down the edge of the carpet. The sign on the pillows... why were they so familiar?
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The Drasnian begins to notice the look on the inquisitive ranger.
[RP]: Morneson freezes in mid-stride, then continues pacing faster.
[RP]: (Morneson): Osadiss gazes at Harodus steadily. 'No wonder you're called the Viper.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus smiles slightly. 'Am I now?'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): While the two long-lost "friends" continue bickering, Czrel approaches the silent Sendarian.
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus sets aside the cup, and straightens his robes. 'I look forward to rebuilding what I've lost... it'll certainly be a challenge.'
[RP]: Morneson glances sideways at the approaching Drasnian. 'Yes?'
[RP]: (Morneson): Osadiss raises an eyebrow. 'You intrigue me.' 'You'll see.' 'Planning on kidnapping my daughter?' 'No.' 'What then?'
[RP]: Morneson nods at the pillow, and says in a very low voice 'Recognise that?'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'A golden soaring bird.. A vulture..' Czrel's voice begins to sound disturbed.
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus shrugs, but his eyes gleam oddly.
[RP]: Morneson nods encouragingly. 'And vultures link to...'
[RP]: Merchant Czrel nods. Then he shakes his head in an attempt to refuse what he has just learned.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'Of all people, not the Nyissan man, not Crysila's father..'
[RP]: Morneson turns her gaze to Osadiss. Osadiss and Harodus are watching each other cautiously, looking almost as though they were duelling.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The Drasnian sighs in despair. 'Belar..'
[RP]: Morneson shrugs. 'It's not so incredible. Nyissans are renowned slavers.'
[RP]: Morneson smiles wryly. 'Do you feel like posing the question? Or should I do it?'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'But Crysila's father?' Czrel argues. 'Fate can be cruel.'
[RP]: Morneson gestures at the finery and the gold embroidery. 'He should be pretty highly ranked in the organisation... he's rich, Czrel.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): After second thoughts, the Drasnian reluctantly accepts this painful truth.
[RP]: (Morneson): Osadiss shakes his head. 'I look forward to seeing you make a comeback. I do hate losing a customer.'
[RP]: (Morneson): 'Don't worry... I'll pay the standard price. I've got something else in mind.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'You are.. Sharper with words, ranger,' Czrel shakes his head slightly. 'You ask.'
[RP]: Morneson smiles grimly as she folds her arms tightly around her chest. 'Let the teacher take the risks, hm?'
[RP]: Morneson grins as she walks back to her cushion and seats herself. 'So, Osadiss, what does the sign mean?'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Now the Adventurer identity of the ranger begins to flow into Morneson. Czrel begins to believe the Sendarian. He lets out a slight grin.
[RP]: (Morneson): Osadiss looks uncomfortable. 'It means I'm part of the Vulture's Nest.'
[RP]: Morneson pretends to think about it. 'Really? What does it do?'
[RP]: Merchant Czrel listens intently behind the ranger.
[RP]: (Morneson): Osadiss shrugs. 'I'm afraid I can't tell you.' 'Must pay you pretty well for this finery.' 'It does.'
[RP]: Morneson now looks interested. 'Do you think you can get me a job within your organisation?'
[RP]: (Morneson): Osadiss shakes his head. 'We have enough personnel.'
[RP]: Morneson deflates a little. 'Really? Well, the thing is, I've heard about the Vulture's nest. From a few farmers in Sendaria... You've got quite an interesting reputation.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus listens attentively.
[RP]: (Morneson): Osadiss' expression becomes stony. 'Have you?' 'Oh, yes. A few cases of rape here, a murder there...'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Czrel lets the ranger do the speaking. Somehow he must find out more about Osadiss and his wretched organization.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): He looks around slyly, only to see guards towering all over him.
[RP]: (Morneson): Osadiss does not meet the ranger's gaze. 'That is not us.' 'No? I'm pretty sure it is. Every time a farm is plundered your pretty vulture is drawn in ash over the door.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Osadiss stands up, careful not to wake up Siphyla. 'I don't have to listen to this.' 'No,' Morneson agrees. 'You don't. But your daughter won't stand for it.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Observing that the guards at keeping their eyes on Harodus, he quickly slips pass them and sneaks deeper into the building.
[RP]: (Morneson): Osadis involuntarily glances down at the slumbering Siphyla. 'You see, she's been brought up as a Tolnedran. And Tolnedrans, like most of the West, don't like slavery. Am I correct, Harodus?'
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus is grinning. 'Of course you are.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): As the Drasnian explores further into the house, the booming voices back in the hall starts to soften and fade away.
[RP]: Morneson flashes the Tolnedran a smile. 'So, you see, you have a choice. Either you leave the organisation, or have to explain it to her... and she won't be happy.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Osadiss slumps slightly. 'I can't leave.'
[RP]: Morneson challenges him. 'Why not?'
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus murmurs 'Why not indeed...' to himself.
[RP]: (Morneson): Osadiss grinds his teeth together. 'If I tell you I'll be forced to kill you. If not me others will.' 'Don't worry, I've fought many times before.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The mansion has wierd corridors connecting different rooms together. It is like travelling inside a tunnel network.
[RP]: (Morneson): Osadiss looks Morneson up and down. 'You?' 'Yes, me.' There is silence.
[RP]: (Morneson): The guards listening do not seem perturbed by the conversation, despite the fact that all their weapons have the Vulture's Nest symbol engraved on their hilts.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Although very much confusing to a layman, Czrel navigates through the house with ease. He begins to pick up sounds of other people.
[RP]: Morneson looks around at the guards. 'None of your men seem to be rebelling, but they're also part of the organisation. I wonder why?'
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus laughs delightedly to himself. 'You know, Morneson, you can make a very good politician.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The Drasnian detects soft sounds of groaning. He puts his ears to the walls and listens carefully.
[RP]: Morneson flutters her eyes at Harodus. 'Why thank you.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Osadiss shakes his head, as though trying to deny everything she has said.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): A guard suddenly whips around the corner of the corridor. His eyes widen in shock as he sees the Drasnian intruder.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): But before he screams out for reinforcements, Czrel has already his dagger aimed at his throat.
[RP]: Morneson continues relentlessly. 'So. A man who's highly ranked in the Vulture's Nest. Whose guards, although seem to belong to the Nest, are loyal to him. I sense betrayal in the air...'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'Silence Nyissan,' The Drasnian advices the guard. 'One more inch...'
[RP]: (Morneson): The guards all cast questioning looks at Osadiss, who shakes his head. 'I suspect... we'll need her.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Osadiss continues, explaining. 'I can't just... kill people who've helped my daughter. She'll never forgive me. And what she said is right.'
[RP]: Merchant Czrel quickly covers the taller guard's mouth swiftly. In a moment, the Drasnian is behind the guard with his weapon gently prodding the Nyissan's back.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'Lead the way,' Czrel whispers to the guard. 'Take me to where you keep them.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The Nyissan guard bows his head in shame. Being overpowered by a Drasnian was never on his agenda. Reluctantly, he leads Czrel into the winding corridors.
[RP]: (Morneson): Osadiss stares at Morneson thoughtfully. 'We'll need to change our plans.' 'Sir?' 'Just call me Osadiss, Tyslon. No point in hiding any more.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): As the Drasnian coerces the guard on, the latter leads him closer to a place where he could hear soft music being played.
[RP]: Merchant Czrel shakes his head in disgust. 'Enjoying yourselves eh?' The Drasnian scowls at the Nyissan guard. 'I'll make you trade places with your prisoners.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Tyslon, the shrew-like man, nods. 'I understand. But what are we going to do then?'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Slowly closing in towards the room, Czrel detects that the groaning he heard were male voices. They sounded like drunk guards enjoying a show.
[RP]: (Morneson): Osadis grimaces, massaging his temples.
[RP]: Morneson shrugs as she carefully rearranges the folds of her cloak. 'I know nothing of your plan... you'll have to make your own decisions.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'Sshe'ss gooodd,' one of the guards slurrs. 'Hheehee, let'ss hhaavvee somee reaal funn womann!'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Sensing that someone may be in trouble, Czrel knocks the lead guard out cold and dashes into the smoky room.
[RP]: (Morneson): Osadiss eyes Harados speculatively. 'If she goes alone with that Drasnian they'll suspect something. I need someone to 'introduce' them as mecenaries to the Nest.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus smiles. 'I don't have anything on my schedule. Besides, I need some money to get back home.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): But as he arrives, he hears the male voices cry out in wimp. He sees a sword flashing before him, then silence.
[RP]: (Morneson): 'You want us you hire you?' Osadiss stares at Harodus, who smiles, sipping from his refilled cup of tea. 'I don't quite believe that, Viper.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): He begins to smell the pungent alcohol in the room. But no sooner, the scent of blood punctures his nostrils.
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus chuckles softly to himself. 'Part time only. Oh, and give me a vial of Athsat. I'll need it when I get back.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): As he cautiously proceeds into the room, he notices the crimson fluids splattered all over the floor.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Gradually, he spots a figure through the haze. A female, slumped upon a wooden bar, laid there with her eyes shut.
[RP]: (Morneson): 'Oddly enough, I don't quite trust you to a vial of Athsat.' 'Don't you? I'm disappointed. Get one of your henchmen in Tolnedra to give it to me then.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Osadiss shakes his head. 'You're not going to find out who works for me so easily.' Harodus frowns. 'Then I won't work for you.'
[RP]: Merchant Czrel quietly sneaks towards the woman. She is dressed in a translucent pink dress alike those of performing dancers.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Strangely, Czrel feels an affinity for the girl. He reaches out to wake the female when suddenly, she moves.
[RP]: Morneson speaks up. 'When I return to Camaar I'm going to pass through Tolnedra anyway. Give me the vial and I'll hold it for him.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Osadiss shakes his head again. 'You don't know what you're getting into. Vipers were never known for their...' 'For their honour?'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The girl's hand is fast. A blade flies at Czrel's neck before he could even touch her.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Instinctively, the Drasnian parries the sword with his left forearm. The blade saws into his flesh, tearing muscles and blood vessels apart.
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus gave Osadiss a chilly look. 'You're right, I don't have honour. But what I have in mind does not involve you, or her, or the boy. I'll be disadvantaged if I kill you.'
[RP]: Morneson smiles slightly. 'And us?'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Despite being slashed, Czrel reaches further with his wounded arm and grabs the fletching blade.
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus sips his tea, before answering. 'I gain nothing from your deaths, except your clan's emnity. So no.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The Drasnian focuses his strength on the arm to stop the girl from flailing it at him again.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Blood seeps from his palm and rolls gently down the tainted iron sword.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'Stop,' Czrel murmurs to the girl. 'I'm not Nyissan.'
[RP]: Morneson purses her lips in disapproval. 'You only ever think about things politically, don't you?' 'Dear girl, politics IS my life.' He smiles. 'Let's just say I've got a certain amount of affection for you.'
[RP]: Morneson glares at Harodus. 'I'm engaged.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The girl opens her eyes. Czrel could see that they are partly filled with hate and partly, with fear.
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus laughs, while Osadiss speaks over his laughter. 'I'll need you to infiltrate the headquarters and let my men in at midnight.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Still remaining silent and persistent on killing the Drasnian, the girl forces the sword deeper into his palm.
[RP]: Merchant Czrel grits his teeth in pain. 'I'm not part of them,' Czrel confesses to the girl. 'Trust me.. Please.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus wipes a few tears from his eyes. 'You know, I've got something against this plan. After all, not so long ago, I was a victim of such treachery. The only way you'll get me to do this is a kiss from Morneson.'
[RP]: Morneson lashes out with a hand and slaps him. 'How dare you!' The guards have also drawn their weapons.
[RP]: (Morneson): Osadiss stares at Harodus. 'You've... changed.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The girl's brows bend in doubt. 'I trusted.. them,' she stutters. 'But..'
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus gives Osadiss a mocking look, while rubbing his reddening cheek. 'More than you have ever imagined.' He sobers. 'Well, lady, you don't take jokes very well. My apologies for cracking such a... crude joke.'
[RP]: Merchant Czrel feels the strength dwindling from the girl's hand. The sword drops to the ground with a loud clatter, staining the floor with blood.
[RP]: Morneson grits her teeth.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Tears begins to roll from the girl's eyes. As the large pearly drops of emotion gently caresses her reddened cheeks, Czrel squats down and comforts her.
[RP]: (Morneson): Osadiss shakes his head again. 'Harodus... don't push it. Or else I WILL kill you.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'Don't touch me!' The feisty girl yells at the Drasnian. Although emotional, she remains defensive.
[RP]: (Morneson): He then looks at the trembling Morneson. 'Sorry, Morneson.'
[RP]: Morneson shakes her head. 'It's all right.' She levels a cold look at Harodus, who ignores it.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'I'm.. Here to help.' Czrel soothes the girl. 'Please trust me.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The girl looks at Czrel in the eyes. In response, Czrel drops his dagger and kicks it to a corner of the room.
[RP]: (Morneson): There is a long period of silence, during which Harodus giggles to himself. Osadiss and his men look at him disgustedly.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'How would I.. Know that,' the girl starts softly. 'That Drasnians aren't part of this.. Kidnapping too?'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The Drasnian desperately looks for something to proof his innocence while enduring the searing pain on his forearm and his palm.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Blood continues to gush from his wounds.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'Tell me!' The girl shouts at Czrel.
[RP]: Merchant Czrel closes his eyes for a short moment. Then he speaks.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'See this?' Czrel tries to unbutton a brooch from his cloak. 'This.. Brooch.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The trembling Drasnian removes a small ivory brooch from his cloak. It is the mark of the Adventurers.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'This?' The girl reaches out to touch the cool ivory ornament. Perhaps it could proof to the girl that he is not part of the nest.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Czrel, who is now shivering in utter pain, mutters 'Yes, I'm from the Adventurers. I've.. Come to help..'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The girl remains silent as she clutches the brooch tightly. She continues to look Czrel in his eyes.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'At least.. Trust me..' Czrel begins to feel his strength crumbling. 'I can.. Set you.. Free..'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The girl sobs. Then she wipes her tears from her cheeks. 'Perhaps.'
[RP]: Morneson says flatly 'You've gone mad.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus shakes his head, giggling. 'Nope, I haven't,' he says, voice pitched higher than usual.
[RP]: (Morneson): Osadiss grimaces. 'What are you doing?'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): But Czrel can stand the giddiness no longer. He has lost a lot of blood due to his wounds. He takes one last look at the girl and then darkness enshrouded his vision.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): But before he fell into a total state of unconsciousness, the girl gasps and he hears her last line. 'I trust you.. Please.. Don't die..'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Black. Silent. Still.
[RP]: (Morneson): Harodus covers his mouth, chortling. 'You do realise Czrel's been gone for most of this conversation right?'
[RP]: Morneson starts, looking around. 'Fool!'
[RP]: Morneson swears under her breath as she scrambles to her feet, while Harodus watches her with a look of amusement and satisfaction. 'Wipe that smile off your face,' she snarled at him.
[RP]: (Morneson): Osadiss exchanges looks with Tyslon, and Tyslon makes a series of quick gestures. The guards in the room scatter as they begin searching the house.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): From the darkness, the Drasnian's vision twirls repeatedly into a myriad of varied colours.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Red, blue, yellow, green, orange, pink and purple..
[RP]: Morneson follows Tyslon down a corridor. The soft footfalls are the only sounds they make as they turn the corner, then Tyslon stops.
[RP]: (Morneson): The Nyissan shoots a worried glance at the ranger. 'We're heading down to... where the slaves are kept.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): He begins to hear a soft voice. A lady's voice, calling out to him.
[RP]: (Morneson): Morneson's eyes harden. 'I see,' she says quietly. Tyslon glances at her again, then continues onwards.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): His eyelids feel like they weigh a shipload of trout. Nevertheless he slowly pry open them.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'They are coming, we have to run,' a worried voice rings in his head. It comes from the same girl.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Czrel begins to regain consciousness. Through his blurred vision, he sees a girl with arms around him, trying to drag him out of the room.
[RP]: (Morneson): Tyslon briefly ducks into a small passage branching from the corridor, checking the rooms. Morneson waits impatiently.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'Can you walk? I'm very sorry I hurt you,' the girl apologises. 'I didn't thought anyone would come to rescue me.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The Drasnian only manages a mumble. 'I'll try.' His arm is still throbbing in pain, his wounds still gushing crimson blood.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The girl nods. 'I can feel them coming our way,' she stutters. 'Hurry.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Tylson emerges from the dim passage, and leads the way further down the corridor, occasionally peering into empty rooms.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): With that, Czrel summons his remaining strength and staggers out of the smoky bar, following closely behind the dancer girl.
[RP]: Morneson looks around. 'You know, this house is remarkably normal for a Nyissan house.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'Wait, not so fast,' the Drasnian calls out quietly to the dancer.
[RP]: (Morneson): The corner of Tylson's mouth twitches. 'Oh yes, Osadiss wouldn't stand for the traditional architecture. Loses too many slaves and servants, he says.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Turning her head around, she looks at the Drasnian in his eyes. 'I guess it's my fault after all.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Then she reaches out and gently holds Czrel's hand.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The Drasnian has never held a girl's hand in his life before. Perhaps his mother's. Or a a neighbour's daughter. Perhaps...
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'Quick, I know the way.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The dancer swiftly leads the wounded Drasnian into another series of corridors and doorways.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): As they moved along, Czrel's blood stains the white floor beneath his feet.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): But they have no time to erase their trail. They only have time for escape.
[RP]: Morneson prays to the Seven Gods that Czrel is fine. Losing track of her charge is the last thing she needs in Sthiss Tor - she could think of at least half a dozen unpleasant fates.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Finally, after a dozen of doorways and stairwells, the girl opens a door and the couple step out into the darkness of the night.
[RP]: (Morneson): Tylson trips over something and starts cursing. 'Damn fool! What in Issa's name do you think you're doing?'
[RP]: Morneson helps Tylson onto his feet. 'I think he's knocked out.'
[RP]: (Morneson): Tylson, however, is not paying attention to the unconscious guard, but instead sniffing the air.
[RP]: Morneson flinches slightly as the sharp tang of blood, mixed with the smell of sweat, smoke and alcohol, hits her.
[RP]: (Morneson): Tylson draws his short sword and his dagger, and steps into the room cautiously. Morneson also draws out her own short sword, and follows him into the room.
[RP]: (Morneson): Inside are the corpses of several guards, and a fresh trail of blood leading further into the smoky room. Some spilled beer drips from the table onto the ground.
[RP]: (Morneson): Tylson turns pale, and draws out a set of keys. 'You go ahead and follow the blood trail... I'll check on the slaves.'
[RP]: Morneson nods and is about to leave when Tylson grabs her arm. She gives him a puzzled look.
[RP]: (Morneson): 'Don't you need a lantern or a torch?' 'No. I've had plenty of practice skulking around at night.' They stare at each other. 'Good luck. Issa be with you.' He turns sharply on his heel and inspects a lock.
[RP]: Morneson draws a fold of her cloak around her blade, and silently tracks the trail of blood past stout doors and bars. Her lips curl in disgust as she listens to the pitiful cries of slaves.
[RP]: Morneson pauses as she reaches an open door, and peers out cautiously at the dark street.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): A cold breeze blows mercilessly across the damp, dark Nyissan street.
[RP]: Morneson hesitates, then takes out a piece of chalk and quickly scrawls 'tracking Czrel, can't help you, sry, must leave' on the wall.
[RP]: Morneson sighs, briefly touching her Adventurer's badge for luck, and resumes her search for Czrel.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Although the sun has set, and the dusk has crept into the houses of the Nyissans, some residents are still outside on the streets peddling strange herbs.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): But they remain indifferent to a strange couple, wrapping around one another and tumbling through the quiet night.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Czrel regains his composure and is able to follow the swift footed girl around the maze like city.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'How much longer.. Girl?' The Drasnian enquires.
[RP]: Morneson draws her hood over her head with her free hand, and sheaths her short sword. She palms her dagger out of its scabbard and follows the thinning trail, wondering whether the victim was bleeding to death, or that the wound was clotting.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The dancer slows down and looks back at Czrel. 'It's dark and I'm not familiar with the outsides,' the girl confesses. 'I didn't arrive on a red carpet you know.'
[RP]: Morneson speeds up to a quick trot, half hoping the bleeding would stop and half hoping it would continue.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Czrel returns a light grin. He is impress that the girl still has the heart to joke after her ordeal.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Seeing him smile, the dancer tightens her grasp on the Drasnian's hand. She gives him a strange look and continues into the darkness of the night.
[RP]: Morneson pauses, glancing at the sky, and wraps her cloak tightly around herself.
[RP]: Morneson stops abruptly when she sees the trail thin to nothing. She resists the urge to swear, choosing instead to ask a passing guard. 'Have you seen a young Drasnian?'
[RP]: (Morneson): The Nyissan guard, thankfully not fully drugged, nods. 'He wash being 'elped by dish...' he slurs, and frowns, concentrating. 'Dish... Nadrak girl. That way.' He pointed.
[RP]: Morneson offers a brief thanks and runs in the direction, hoping that he is correct.
[RP]: Morneson hurries after Czrel, wondering what on earth he is doing with a Nadrak girl. No doubt the girl had her dagger pressed against his throat...
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The couple runs deeper and deeper into a dark alley. Czrel still has no idea about the background of the girl, but he decides to keep his mouth shut to avoid unnecessary waste of energy.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'You sure it's this way?' Czrel enquires again, breaking the silence between them.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The girl looks behind and gives him a shrug. Strangely, Czrel feels like the girl has something up her sleeves.
[RP]: Morneson glances up at the stars again. 'Oh great, they're leaving the city. Idiot!'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): 'Just come along, we might make it out of here.'
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Czrel's eyes widen. 'Out?' He begins to doubt this little journey he is having. 'But to where?'
[RP]: (Morneson): Something tells Morneson to duck, and she does so, just in time to hear a blade slicing air above her head. She throws herself forwards into a roll, and stands up, to find herself facing a hooded figure.
[RP]: Morneson tries to draw her short sword, but it jams in her sheath, and brings up her dagger just in time to parry a blow. Her arm goes numb as she yanks out the blade and slashes downwards at her assailant.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The dancer stops in her tracks. She looks at the Drasnian in his eyes again. This time, her eyes are nearly filled with tears.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): Czrel feels puzzled and pity for the girl. 'Don't cry,' he comforts her. 'You won't look pretty anymore if you do.'
[RP]: (Morneson): The figure flinches back, and Morneson breaks into a run. She stops when she has reached the end of the street, where a guard is patrolling. 'Have... have you seen... a... Drasnian?'
[RP]: Morneson glances over her shoulder. The figure is gone.
[RP]: (Morneson): The guard nods, pointing to his left, and she forces herself to run again, hoping that her assailant was gone.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): The girl sobs. 'I miss home.'
[RP]: Morneson staggers to a halt, thoroughly winded, at the intersection, and stiffens when she feels a point prick her back.
[RP]: (Morneson): 'Welcome back, Myara,' a familiar voice drawls.
[RP]: (Merchant Czrel): But before the Drasnian can question her further, the girl unwarily step into a hole and falls into a dark tunnel, bringing along the wounded Drasnian.
[RP]: Morneson forces herself to remain calm, quelling her rising panic. 'Hello, Sthanos,' she says coolly.

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