Hired by the Spymaster

Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by Windstormugly, Jan 22, 2015.

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    • Spymaster

      The cloaked man stood staring at the tavern, he had been in the same spot for almost an hour, not moving an inch. If he hadn't been standing up he could as well have been dead, but you could sometimes see his eyes move around to take in the surroundings. The shadows caused by the torch-light on the wall behind him made it hard to discern what race he belonged to, but once or twice his beak gleamed like polished metal in the moonlight. While there were a few different kinds of beast-men bearing heritage to birds, the man belonged to the Vakhaw, humanoid birds renown for their excellent skill as hunters, and infamous for their morbid ability to suck the life from their prey. Most of it was of course baseless rumors and racist superstition, but like many other mystical traits, truth was in their case stranger than fiction.

      While belonging to a rather remote race, the Vakhaw visitor didn't stand out in the town. It was located in a big forest known as the Murk-woods, due to it being the location for a legendary battle between the human Empire in its golden age and a coalition formed by countless other races to stand against the Empires seemingly unstoppable growth. The humans suffered a defeat so great it turned the tide, leaving them weak for centuries to come, now more than a millennium had gone by, but the name of the forest remained.
      The only town in the forest was considered a part of the forest itself, a place for mercenaries and woodsmen, as well as individuals wanted for murder and worse across the whole world. Entering the lawless city meant you were either desperate, stupid, or both.

      However, the man was neither and had his appearance been known there would have been no doubt of the fact. A reputation reaching most parts of the civilized world. Though mainly for those operating in the shadows and belonging to the dark underbelly of society.
      He had many names and positions, not all of them referring to the same enigma, but his most influential one belonged to the "Thread Ruin", a secret organization not answering to any state, and posing an information-net utilized and paid for across the whole world. If you wanted to know something, or had to keep something a secret, they would help you for the right price. But their internal workings were unknown to all but the members, and those paid to do their bidding. There were rumors of them crushing anyone who came their hierarchy too close, or learned the identity of men and women in the upper branches.

      The inner workings of the Thread was the reason for the Vakhaw man being in the Murk-town, in later years there had been insurrections and breaches of information among their members, a cleansing was necessary.

      Removing his hood, the Vakhaw started moving towards the tavern he had so far kept watch over, his talons clicked on the ground while softened by his leather boots. He was about to open the door to the establishment when a knife appeared below his left arm, causing him a slight discomfort as he felt it tear further inside him. Looking down at what he thought was a random robber proved to be a female assassin, from his own organization! The flat bluish beak of the Vakhaw closed shut in what went for a grimace among them. He gripped the assassin by the neck in his right hand, seemingly unfazed by the knife that should have hit a larger artery.

      "You should have used a crossbow." He said as he turned towards his aggressor, lifting her up in one arm and throwing her through the door to the tavern. The Vakhaw followed her in, ripping the knife out while he entered the change in light, the tavern made a mix of light and shadow. Ignoring the exclaims from nearby drinkers he bent down over the assassin trying to get up, the look of the Vakhaws white eyes made her freeze. Opening his beak in what was probably meant for a smile he placed the knife on her chest, pointing towards her throat.

      "Think hard before you try to do that again, little miss. Now get up and stay close." his stare making her avert her eyes.
      Throwing a few coins to the barkeep, he glanced around until he found whom he had been looking for, a lizard sitting in a corner with a few companions. The Vakhaw sat down across from them without asking for permission, ignoring the elven assassin standing behind him with a slightly sick expression on her face.

      "You are Z'Haeer? I have a job for you, if you'd be interested?" the feathers on the Vakhaws face twitching. Hoping that the lizard and his men were as good as he had heard. He would need them.


    Spymaster

    The cloaked man stood staring at the tavern, he had been in the same spot for almost an hour, not moving an inch. If he hadn't been standing up he could as well have been dead, but you could sometimes see his eyes move around to take in the surroundings. The shadows caused by the torch-light on the wall behind him made it hard to discern what race he belonged to, but once or twice his beak gleamed like polished metal in the moonlight. While there were a few different kinds of beast-men bearing heritage to birds, the man belonged to the Vakhaw, humanoid birds renown for their excellent skill as hunters, and infamous for their morbid ability to suck the life from their prey. Most of it was of course baseless rumors and racist superstition, but like many other mystical traits, truth was in their case stranger than fiction.

    While belonging to a rather remote race, the Vakhaw visitor didn't stand out in the town. It was located in a big forest known as the Murk-woods, due to it being the location for a legendary battle between the human Empire in its golden age and a coalition formed by countless other races to stand against the Empires seemingly unstoppable growth. The humans suffered a defeat so great it turned the tide, leaving them weak for centuries to come, now more than a millennium had gone by, but the name of the forest remained.
    The only town in the forest was considered a part of the forest itself, a place for mercenaries and woodsmen, as well as individuals wanted for murder and worse across the whole world. Entering the lawless city meant you were either desperate, stupid, or both.

    However, the man was neither and had his appearance been known there would have been no doubt of the fact. A reputation reaching most parts of the civilized world. Though mainly for those operating in the shadows and belonging to the dark underbelly of society.
    He had many names and positions, not all of them referring to the same enigma, but his most influential one belonged to the "Thread Ruin", a secret organization not answering to any state, and posing an information-net utilized and paid for across the whole world. If you wanted to know something, or had to keep something a secret, they would help you for the right price. But their internal workings were unknown to all but the members, and those paid to do their bidding. There were rumors of them crushing anyone who came their hierarchy too close, or learned the identity of men and women in the upper branches.

    The inner workings of the Thread was the reason for the Vakhaw man being in the Murk-town, in later years there had been insurrections and breaches of information among their members, a cleansing was necessary.

    Removing his hood, the Vakhaw started moving towards the tavern he had so far kept watch over, his talons clicked on the ground while softened by his leather boots. He was about to open the door to the establishment when a knife appeared below his left arm, causing him a slight discomfort as he felt it tear further inside him. Looking down at what he thought was a random robber proved to be a female assassin, from his own organization! The flat bluish beak of the Vakhaw closed shut in what went for a grimace among them. He gripped the assassin by the neck in his right hand, seemingly unfazed by the knife that should have hit a larger artery.

    "You should have used a crossbow." He said as he turned towards his aggressor, lifting her up in one arm and throwing her through the door to the tavern. The Vakhaw followed her in, ripping the knife out while he entered the change in light, the tavern made a mix of light and shadow. Ignoring the exclaims from nearby drinkers he bent down over the assassin trying to get up, the look of the Vakhaws white eyes made her freeze. Opening his beak in what was probably meant for a smile he placed the knife on her chest, pointing towards her throat.

    "Think hard before you try to do that again, little miss. Now get up and stay close." his stare making her avert her eyes.
    Throwing a few coins to the barkeep, he glanced around until he found whom he had been looking for, a lizard sitting in a corner with a few companions. The Vakhaw sat down across from them without asking for permission, ignoring the elven assassin standing behind him with a slightly sick expression on her face.

    "You are Z'Haeer? I have a job for you, if you'd be interested?" the feathers on the Vakhaws face twitching. Hoping that the lizard and his men were as good as he had heard. He would need them.
     
    #1 Windstormugly, Jan 22, 2015
    Last edited by a moderator: Apr 24, 2016
  1. The tavern was smokey and loud, as per usual, especially in the Murk-woods. Murderers and thieves weren't exactly rare, and murders and thievery was barely less common. But for someone like Z'Haeer, that was a pretty good situation. A mercenary commander needed to stay alert, and what better way to stay alert than being in a place where everyone could happen to be out to get you and your stuff.

    The blue-scaled Zar'Cha, Z'Haeer Tzherenez, was sitting in at a table with his second in command, Ripgut "Handlebars" Bloodaxe, and a few other friends, enjoying some brews and some company. He and his men were in between jobs at the moment, which meant a little time off at wherever they had decent food and drink that didn't cost too much. As long as the locals let them, at least.

    Yet the cozy little evening was suddenly getting a little entertainment, it seemed, as one bird threw another through the door of the tavern. The tosser was a rather grim-looking fellow, who decided to take a place on the lizard's table, and offer him a job.

    Handlebars leaned forwards, large even for an Orc, and with tusks long enough to impale someone of the smaller races. And he wasn't one to trust people, especially not in Murk-woods. Most of the other people seated at the table quickly got up and left, not wanting any trouble or broken bones.

    "And what job would that be, from someone like you, Bird of the Thread?" Z'Haeer asked, grinning slightly from under his robe. He had heard rumors, as was his way, and heard of a certain thread, with a famed, scarred birdie like the one sitting in front of him now. Which, to say it lightly, was interesting.
     
  2. Spymaster

    The Vakhaw was impressed, not many were that quick in discerning who he could be, and regarding the possible choices, the lizard had chosen the most reasonable one. The big orc that stayed next to Z'haeer was watching him with distrust, but it didn't make him less certain of them, if anything it showed that they were not lowering their guard. He could feel himself smiling, this could prove to be the most fun he had had in decades.

    "Well well, I would like you to work for me. It would entail... killing. Something I understand you and your men are quite good at?" the Vakhaw was keeping his white eyes level with the lizard, showing the respect he had for the other mans skill. He could feel that the blue-scaled mercenary was an experienced mage, something he as a fellow user of the arts felt as a prickle on his skin. The orc on the other hand gave off the brute aura of a man made for war, something that wasn't as special, but nonetheless admirable. The Vakhaw rarely felt an urge to test his strength against anyone.

    Behind him the elven assassin was trying to take the whole situation in, looking between the blade she had stuck in him and the people he had begun talking to. There was already dry blood on it, and when she scratched on it blackish pieces fell of, like ash. And if the Vakhaw himself wasn't intimidating enough, the lizard was a renowned mercenary, his group known as brutal even by the usual standards. It made her all the more sure that who she had tried, and obviously failed to kill, was one of her organizations strongest assassins, the Metal-Beak. She wanted nothing more than to turn around and never look back, but there was no backing out now. She would have to survive.
     
  3. Z'Haeer patted Gutrip on the arm, giving him a nod to make him relax a little. He leaned back in response, crossing his arm, still looking skeptically at the bird. He wasn't one to trust mages easily, other than his blue fellow, though mostly due to a long partnership.

    "That is indeed what me and my little group does." Z said, leaning forward and intertwining his fingers. "Though it depends on what and who you want to kill. If it's a single person, you'd probably be better off with one of the many assassins here in town. Like the one who tried to kill you, back there." He chuckled. "A small army of brutes isn't exactly the kind of killers you and your associates use... So why don't you go into a bit more detail, hm?"
     
  4. Spymaster

    "This one?" the girl in question stiffened as the Vakhaw looked back over his shoulder at her. "She is barely hatched. And yes, I wouldn't bother if it was just a few individuals. But that is, as you point out, not the case." turning his head around he looked at the lizard and his orc friend with an expression more at home in a wolf. "I want you to kill hundreds." he said, looking between the both of them and ascertaing their reaction.

    Behind him the elven assassin had dropped her jaw open, her eyes wide. If what she had heard about this man was true, he was the personal hitman of the organizations leader, the Spymaster, and if he was hiring men like Z'haeer and his group... There were traitors within the organization! And she had just tried to kill the one in charge of dealing with it. Suddenly the idea of running seemed even more appealing.
     
  5. Z'Haeer's eyes widened slightly, before he started grinning again. "Well, that sounds more like our kind of work. Coming from you, I assume it'll not be against armies, though it will be well paid, yes?" He asked, licking his fangs slightly. "And you might have heard of my terms for lending you the strength of my men. Food and drink, or at least money to buy a lot of it. Payment, of course, for the job itself. Good weapons, armor and other such equipment is also accepted as payment, of course..." He chuckled, leaning back against the wall.

    "Bars, get us some more drinks, would you?" He asked, making the large brute get up, leaving the two alone at the table for a moment.
     
  6. Spymaster

    The Vakhaw leaned back as well, considering the lizards words. When the orc got up he threw a few coins in the girls direction, hearing her surprised exclaim when they almost hit her in the face. "Get something for yourself as well, and ask if they have any chagga." It had been a while since he smoked, though the main reason for having her go with the orc was the fact that he didn't want them to hear his next question for the lizard.

    "How much do you know of the Threads influence around the Murk? And about one of our mages in this region, the "Scorcher". Depending on your answer that will be your first destination." he hoped the lizard would take the hint, and realise his need for secrecy on the matter. He still didn't know who had sent the elf. Of course he would talk payment until the morning hours if need be, but some things had to come first. The Vakhaw screamed at himself internally for having neglected his ground-work the last couple years.

    Walking over towards the bar-counter with the biggest orc she had ever seen the elven assassin still tried to find a way out of the situation. But running seemed more and more out of the question, the Beak treated her like his attendant already! She knew that many of the higher assassins in the organization were peculiar, but this utter disregard of her as an enemy was just plain wierd.
    They were almost at the bar when she realised she had no idea what chagga was... Casting a desperate glance at the orc, what had the lizard called him, Bars?

    "Umm, sir Bars? How much, chagga... should I ask for?" the elf said trying to sound calm. Her training had never involved dealing with scum like this, her first solo mission should have been a lord or government official for gods sake!
     
    #7 Windstormugly, Jan 24, 2015
    Last edited: Jan 24, 2015
  7. "A mage named scorcher? I'm guessing that would have to be the guy known as the Red Thread. He's got a area he's scorched of plants, where he's set up a little home. And he scorches anyone who comes too close. Supposedly just a crazy mage who wants to be left alone. Yet he comes into town a little too often for that. I'm guessing that he sells information to people. Keeps it kinda hush-hush, just not too well." He said, shifting slightly in his seat, moving his tail from one side of his chair to the other. "Got a few big burly fuckers watching him. Just local thugs."

    Ripgut stomped over to the bar, leaning against it for a moment, before someone small appeared by his arm. "Depends on how long ya plannin to be gone. But a bag is the usual." He explained without smiling, then turned towards the bartender. "Big ale, and a mug of wine. And a bag of chagga for the lil Elfie 'ere." He ordered, tapping the bar. "That's the most embarrassin assassinatin attempt I've ever seen." He grunted, smiling slightly.
     
  8. Spymaster

    The Vakhaw blinked at the lizard, just a crazy mage... He couldn't help it, he started laughing hysterically, making people at nearby tables turn away with sick expressions on their faces. It sounded like the grinding of swords against bones, the snapping of sinew and flesh being teared out by crows. That was why his spies hadn't found him, they had been searching for a high-mage.

    "Oh, thats nice to hear, khew khew khew. He was one of our best cleaners, sent out here for trying to further his influence. And I see he is still doing so." he said while reminiscing the mage burning whole castles to the ground single-handedly. Some fell both far and hard, but he couldn't let his guard down, the fact that the mage had eluded him for months meant his own information-net was as strong as ever.

    "What about other agents of the Thread?" the Vakhaw wasn't sure what answer he wanted, the reason he suspected traitors around the Murk was that the reports had started to become more sparse, while his own spies had told him that there were countless activity worth mentioning. Either the agents had gotten bad at their job, or they had turned traitors. And if they had turned traitors, they would be more secretive than ever... or maybe, they would seem sloppy, hiding their true actions with lousy ones. He should have killed all of the leaders when he had the chance. The Spymasters authority couldn't be allowed to be questioned.

    She accepted the bag of wierd-smelling powder from the barkeep, thankfull for the orcs help. She was asking for two mugs of ale, hoping the Beak would want it, when the orc made a comment on her earlier failure.
    "I.. It was supposed to be a messenger, and I didn't know it would someone from the Thread." she sounded a bit ashamed, which she was. Admitting that she hadn't been told that her target was from her own organization only further proved how inexperienced she was. And if she had been ordered to kill the Beak, or at least one of the messengers working for the Beak, that meant her superiors were most likely traitors, which only made herself look even worse.

    "He, that is, I think he is... I should have killed him with that knife, but the blood was already dry when he took it out." she wasn't even sure why she was telling the orc this. But it felt like if she didn't tell someone it would haunt her. The elf cast a quick glance back towards the Beak as she heard his laugh, it made her want to cover her ears, it wasn't right.
     
  9. Z'Haeer couldn't help but to smirk at the bird's laughter. Truly, a unique sound, which only made him want to pluck the bird slightly. But he knew that'd be bad for business.
    "Other agents... Nothing bigger than some folks going about, trying to gather information. Mostly just eyes and ears for a gatherer, who reports higher up. Dunno know where it goes after that. The eyes and ears around here aren't good enough to find out who. They're greedy enough to buy though." He chuckled. "The eyes and ears aren't usually more than some random fuckers down on their luck around here. Take out the guys who pay them, and it'll all unravel. If you really want to, you can probably find the chain further up." He said, starting to run one clawed finger across the table, making a small chart in blue, magical flame.

    "So you just attacked your target without scouting it out, with a dagger, which turned out to be a waste. You're real new at this, ain't you?" Ripgut asked, as he grabbed the two mugs, emptied the one down his gullet, then handed it back to the tender, giving him a nod for a refill. "I've seen Goblins almost without training do a better job."
     
  10. Spymaster

    He looked at the blue wall of flame the lizard had made, for a normal passerby it might seem like a fickle show of their magic, but for another practioner of the arts, it was a bit more. There were whole series of signs and messages done in minimalistic magic, and most mages had their own set of them. Now, the barest hint of their powers always had a unique touch to it, a fingerprint if one may. So the Vakhaw did the same, tracing one of his claws in a circle to make a dark purple flame spread, while it looked like they were simply conveying information, they were also showing how to recognizing signs left by the other.

    "Oh, I know the chain further up, its what the brokers know that I want to ascertain. And from what you say they are still sharp, not putting their own necks out. I'll check which of these eyes and ears belong to brokers I want." making his own flame fade, the reflection of the lizards information now remembered by it, the Vakhaw started running through his memory for what spies to use and what brokers belonged to what leaders influence. The circle his flames had come from was turning into a dark spot on the table, as if the wood was dying from being exposed to it. The Vakhaw glanced back at the barcounter, where the elf and the orc had apparently stopped to chat, before turning back towards the lizard. "What exact numbers and professions does your company hold at the moment?" he suddenly sounded like a merchant, eyeing his vares. The hand he had made the flame with toying around a few gold-coins he had not been holding earlier.

    The orcs remark, sounding like many of her former teachers reprimanding the students made her blush.
    "I... this was my first solo mission. And I did scout him out! I kept watch over him from the moment he entered the town, and he was just standing outside this tavern for hours, I attacked when he wasn't prepared for it!" she looked down at the ground, ashamed of her outburst, luckily the orc seemed to be the only one who had heard her. "And if he really is the Beak not a hundred of me would have made a difference..." the last was barely audible. Every assassin in training with the Thread had heard rumors of the Beak, though there was none who actually had seen him, or even knew what race he belonged to. Now that she thought about it, maybe the name should have been a give-away?
     
  11. "Good to know that I can help then. I can get some of my boys to check a little more as well, if you want. I just haven't felt the need to bring any of my guys in here to get into trouble. Or rather, I haven't wanted my guys to come into town and cause trouble." He sighed, as he waved his hand through the blue flame, making it dissipate in a moment.

    "As for the numbers of my crew, unless any of them have gotten into trouble: 34 Orc warriors, 2 of which are berserkers, and 5 of which are archers. 21 Xyrians, all of which are warriors, obviously. As well as 20 Goblins, all of whom are archers, assassins and spies. A group that can take on an army of humans that's ten times their size." He said, leaning back again and having a look at his claws.


    "Well, ya obviously didn't do a good enough job scouting him out. You didn't watch him for more than a few hours. Then you tried to stab him. Even though he was standing in a empty street, you tried to stab him. As your target said, you could have just shot him with a crossbow. One bolt through the chest of you little guys, and most are dead. If not, load another bolt, or then jump down and stab him. Going close and personal like that ain't smart unless you're sure you can take him on, even if he discovers ya." The huge Orc said, before he tossed a few more coins onto the bar, taking both the tankards, and heading back towards the table.
     
  12. Spymaster

    The Vakhaw considered the lizards offer, it could prove beneficial to cover more ground quicker, but he would need to know where Z'haeer's people were when he needed them for other things. The amount in the group surprised him slightly, the blue lizard apparently commanded more authority than he had thought. Things just became a bit more easy on his mind, he smiled at the small company-commanders remark about the strength of human soldiers, he agreed to a point, though there were always exceptions.

    "I'm willing to pay 1 gold every fortnight for every member of your company, if I can trust them to move where I want them, and against whom I want them." he said, tilting his head in a birdlike manner, like he was trying to decide if he would tear at the lizard or not.

    The elf looked at the orc as he started moving back towards the table where the lizard and the Beak was talking, she knew that she shouldn't have been so careless, but it still made her ashamed that an orc told her this. Though she was no longer sure why the word of an orc wouldn't be as good as any, at least they lived in war. They should at least know what they were talking about. She thanked the barkeep before moving back to the table, giving the bag of chagga and the cup of ale to the Vakhaw. He didn't even turn his head away from the lizard when she did so. And he didn't mention the change she had gotten for it. A bit flustered about what to do she took a nearby chair and dragged it to the table, closer to the orc than the Vakhaw, and took a small sip of the ale, which wasn't as bad, while stronger, than she had thought.

    Noting the orc sitting down by the lizard again he focused on the softer sound of the elves footsteps, putting one hand out behind him when she got close enough, it was too important to watch the lizards reaction to his business proposal. He let the bag of chagga drop on the table as he took a sip of the... ale, that the elf had gotten for him, it wasn't as bad as he had thought of the place. switching it for the bag of chagga he poured most of it into his mouth, he had never really understood the idea of using a pipe for it, he always snapped it with his beak. After laying the powder nicely with his tongue he took a feather from his arm and sat fire to it before putting it in his mouth. A soft glow spread from his beak and he blew a puff of smoke out his nostrils.

    "So, Z'haeer. What do you say?" he said with a voice made slightly more pleasant as he had to keep it soft or disturb the smoldering chagga in his mouth.
     
  13. Z'Haeer's lips twitched slightly, adding a little to his smile at the prize. He could easily feed his troops on that, and keep them with drinks and other such goods, while still leaving him with a bit of profit. With the pay for the troops, it'd be a little less, of course, but it was still enough for him. If he could wring a little more out of him, that'd sweeten the deal quite a bit though...

    "Sounds pretty decent. Though I will say that I have a policy of demanding a little more for though battles. If you want us to go against the Red Thread, it'll be at least an additional 5 silvers. Such battles can lose me a few men, and these guys aren't as easy to recruit as you'd think." He haggled, accepting the wine form Gutrip and finding it to be as most of the taverns of Murk-wood. Not great as wine, yet oddly enough reminding him of the good drinks from his home. "Orcs are fiercely loyal to their clans, Xyrians all want to become the next god of war, and the Goblins... Well, there's a lot of them, and they're easy to hire. But it's hard to actually find good ones." He said, leaning back and holding the mug with both hands, dipping his tongue into it, taking a few slow laps of it.

    Ripgut took his place by Z's side, and taking another large gulp of the ale. It was like most of the local ales. Weak and kinda shitty. But it was okay. He also pulled out a rather large pouch from his belt, together with a finely crafted pipe, and started to ready it with surprisingly gentle fingers. "And we gotta know you're able ta pay for it." He added with a slight grin.
     
  14. Spymaster

    The beak of the Vakhaw seemed to glow brighter, and he opened it to let out a big cloud of chagga-smoke, strangely it didn't behave like usual smoke, but rather started floating around him without dissipating. The lizard was trying to wring more sairs from him, even while he was promising an already pleasant sum. It didn't make him angry however, one should never settle for less.

    "Oh, don't worry about the Scorcher, I intend to deal with him myself. We had a... disagreement a few years back, and the score wasn't settled." he said with something like longing in his voice, though that could have been due to him talking through the smoke still spewing out of his beak. The look in his eyes however made it clear what intention he had with the man he was talking about.

    "But I can see where you are coming from, good men and women are hard to come by. So I'll pay you an extra 4 silver for any... bigger prey." he said with a satisfied tone, then he glanced at the orc and smiled with his whole face. "You can be sure of my ability to pay Ripgut, as long as you never, try to cross me, hm?" if anything the smile got bigger. But the nature of it changed into that of a dragon watching someone trying to sneak away with its gold. "Anything else you want to ask?" the Vakhaw said with an entirely business-like tone.

    The elf had almost choked on her ale when the Beak had put the chagga inside his mouth on fire, but as the other two didn't seem to care she tried to ignore it. Feeling a bit calmer when the orc took out a pipe and started filling it with the same kind of powder. She wasn't sure what was more disturbing, the way the Vakhaw changed expression and tone of voice so quickly, or the fact that both him and the two mercenaries were smiling slightly all the while. She tried to make herself smaller and continued sipping on her ale, trying not to sneeze at the sweet and cloggy smell of the smoke. How did he make the smoke stay like that, he wouldn't use magic for something so useless, would he?
     
  15. "Ah, good. Maximum pay without having to deal with the guy who burns down whatever he doesn't like. You've got yourself a deal!" Z said, clapping his hands together with a slight chuckle. "How soon do we have to leave then, Beaky? Moving a small army is harder than moving one assassin, after all."

    Ripgut finished stuffing his pipe, so he held it over to the lizard, who put a finger against the leafs, lighting it on fire for him, before he put it in his mouth, on the inside of one of his tusks. "It won't take that long as long as the Xyrians haven't overdone the fights. It'll be faster if half of us don't limp." He chuckled as he puffed some smoke.

    "Yes, of course. How soon, where to, and who are we fighting? The scalies are easier to get moving when they know they're in for a good fight." He chuckled. He also couldn't help but to think that by the sounds of it, the Thread would become quite a lot thinner, and needing a few new members... And getting his way into a organization like that could be quite educational. And in the long run, it could even be a way to reach some other of his goals...
     
  16. Spymaster

    The Vakhaws face might have twitched when the lizard called him by the unintelligible nickname. But he was nonetheless satisfied at the deal being struck. Now to inspect the merchandise before the first mission.

    "We move first thing tomorrow morning, now, lets see this group of mercenaries you are so proud of." he said getting up from the table. Casting a look at the cup of ale and downing it as a second thought, skillfully not putting out the smoldering chagga, though it did make it seem like he was about to swallow a sword. He then turned around and started walking away, the smoke following him like some peculiar kind of clothing.

    "Elf, you are coming with us. If you have any equipment put away somewhere I suggest you hurry and pick it up." the Vakhaws voice trailed off as he went out of the tavern, looking around him to get his bearings. Then he started walking again, not waiting for the lizard and the orc to give him directions. He knew where their camp was, half an hours walk out of town. It was a while since he had been in a mercenary camp, this would be fun.

    The elven assassin looked at the Beak as he got up from the table and started walking away, maybe now she could get out of this situation. That hope was quickly crushed as the Vakhaw told her that she wasn't getting away anytime soon. She didn't want to think of what he might do to her if she didn't come along quickly enough. Downing the ale she rose up and was just going to run out and get the money and traveling clothes she had stuffed atop a roof when she realized she had no idea where Z'haeers camp was.

    "Where is your camp, sir Z'haeer, Bars ?" she said, a bit stressed over the prospect of having to search the whole surrounding forest for it.
     
  17. The bird got up and left in a hurry, apparently eager to see the troops now at his command, leaving Z'Haeer and Ripgut at the table, with the elf quickly rising to follow him. She lacked the determination and direction of her superior though, and had to ask for directions.

    "The camp is east of town. Just follow the road, and you can't really miss it. Though we're in no hurry. We're not leaving until the morning, and I've just gotten a mug of decent wine. You're welcome to walk back with us, once you've gotten your things though." He said, leaning back against the wall again, and taking another sip of his drink, as she left.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~

    The camp was little more than a gathering of tarps strung up from the trees, campfires, and other small comforts the warriors had decided to make for themselves as they waited, as well as the remainders of the food and drink they had eaten during their stay. The warriors were mostly seated according to their races, though there were a few groups mixed of large and small green skins, as well as black scales. There were two warriors, an Orc and an Xyrian fighting in a small clearing, with a group of others standing around, cheering and making bets. There was a waterfall and a river just behind the camp, with a suspiciously large amount of warriors milling about, pretending to be cleaning something or another or getting water. The reason for which could be quite easily seen; a rather finely shaped Goblin lady standing under the waterfall, washing herself and seemingly not caring at all about the rather obvious onlookers.

    A heavily armored Xyrian who was guarding the perimeter stopped the Vakhaw who approached, pointing his bardiche at him and giving him a rather threatening grin. "Ya lost, little guy?" He asked with a deep chuckle.
     
  18. Spymaster

    It had been an uneventful walk from the tavern to the cozy little camp, filled to the brim with Z'haeers mercenaries, though they were spread over a large enough area to not seem crowded. He could also see something fairly interesting behind the camp, though pleasantries would have to wait. What he wanted to do at the moment was test their supposed battle-prowess. The orc and the xyrian sparring, fighting? in the clearing off to one side made him especially agitated, he hadn't gotten a good sweat in months.
    Question was if they would let him take part of it that easily though, warriors, mercenaries in particular often showed aggressive suspicion towards newcomers, and he didn't feel like waiting for Z'haeer to explain the situation. He might have to use a shady array of skills to not arouse their hostility, it all depended on how the first approach played out.


    The Vakhaw was however stopped by a rather armored xyrian before he got inside the camp, which decided his course of action then and there. And said mercenary didn't use a tone he liked, not that one could blame him, as none of them had ever seen him before. But it still annoyed him, it was the second person that day who apparently needed to be shown his place. Gathering his magical reserves into a cold spot held in his beak he called forth the substance he had used the chagga to forge slmost an hour ago.

    "Sleep" with the Vakhaws voice a faint cloud of smoke flowed out of his beak, seemingly sucked inside the xyrians mouth and nostrils, thought none behind him would have been able to see what happened. For them, it would simply look like the xyrian dropped down on the ground and started snoring. Before he had even hit the ground, the man hidden by him had uttered another string of words, some of which held no meaning or translation in the current language. The Vakhaw walked over the now sleeping mercenary and moved straight through the camp towards the little clearing, most of the other warriors and assassins now either standing up with their hands on their weapons or at least eyeing him questioningly. But none attacked him, it was as if everyone around him had suddenly become indecisive, not certain of how they should respond to the intrusion, after all, he hadn't actually hurt or attacked anyone had he?

    Arriving at the clearing he stepped through the ring of onlookers and stopped before the two fighting mercenaries, who had stopped in their tracks as well, along with the rest of the mercenaries trying to decide if they should attack or wait for the Vakhaw to make the first move. Even some of those that had earlier been ogling the goblin beauty were coming to gather around the clearing, eager for what would happen next. Suddenly the Vakhaw shrugged off his cloak and let a few small sharp objects drop from straps on his limbs, he also uncoiled a rope meant for holding his wings together.

    "Well then, would you care to give me this dance hatchlings?" the expression on one of the Threads most feared assassins was wolfish as he walked towards the two fighters, his neck and joints making creaking sounds as he stretched them out from a long time of easy use.

    Moments later it was as if a spell had been lifted. Both the orc and the xyrian rushing towards him, the onlookers cheering loudly.
     
    #19 Windstormugly, Jan 25, 2015
    Last edited: Jan 26, 2015
  19. Z'Haeer and Ripgut walked up towards the camp after having finished their drinks, and finding it to be late enough to return, rather than ordering another round. On their way, the Elf had started following them at some point, doing some rather inept attempts to not be spotted. They decided to humor her, and pretended they hadn't noticed her until they got to their camp, and finding a fight going on in the little ring that had been made during the down-time.

    A few of the guys and gils sat around, having taken a beating, while most of the others were standing around the circle, cheering on a fight between the slightly worn birdey and a Xyrian, wailing at each other. Deciding that he didn't want any more of his troops wounded for no reason, Z patted Bars on the arm, nodding him forwards. He nodded in return, and walked up to the ring.

    "ALRIGHT, LADIES! BREAK IT UP! THE BOSS IS BACK!" He roared, making the crowd stop and turn towards the large Orc. They spread a little, making way to the ring, where the Xyrian had stopped, although obviously more reluctant than the rest of them.

    Z'Haeer walked through the crowd slowly, hands held behind his back, with his inscribed hood up, as he tended to have it when he was out walking. "Testing the troops, are you? You'd think the stories told of us would be good enough, but alas. What do you think so far?" He asked, smiling slightly.
     
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