In The Service of The Zhentarim

[Tevin]

The messages you all recieve told you to meet a Captain Islev at the eastern gatehouse at noon. As the noon hour approaches you make your way there and walk inside the gloom of the windowless antechamber. Within you see a stern looking man or approximately six feet in height wearing the standard chainmail of a Zhent soldier, a tabard of a stylized Z on a field of black hangs over the metal links of his armor. His face is grim and a long grizzly scar runs from his jawline, over his left eye, and fades into his hairline. Behind him, and to his right stands a short stalky bald man with sharp features and uncaring, cold grey eyes, he wears a set of fullplate armor with a black guantleted fist emblazened across its chest.

The Zhent soldier speaks "Good, I am glad you have shown up. I am in need of the services of a band not of our military for an important task which was handed to me by Lord Chembryl himself. Dreadmaster Kharne here," he motions with his head to the stalky priest behind him, "will be overseeing the mission and you will answer only to him and speak of this task only with myself and the Dreadmaster, is that clear?" He waits for you to agree before continuing. "You should introduce yourselves to Master Kharne and inform him of your specialities before he can properly relate your mission and your positions therein." The man introduced as Dreadmaster Kharne steps forwards, eyeing you all expectantly.

[Arq Kujos]

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Haha, FIRST!

Charos ran a rough hand over his bald head and smirked slightly. He hated being stared down by anyone, but his master ordered him to behave. Bowing politely, he said Greetings Dreadmaster. I am Charos Flamebringer, servant of Lady Aurora, priestess of Kossuth. He raised himself and looked the man in the eyes. I am here on behalf of Kossuth and his church, to aid in whatever endeavors you may require. I am a soldier by trade, and an apprentice wizard. While my powers may yet be untamed, it is my faith that aids me most. I humbly pledge to serve you. As an added display, he rubbed his hands together to produce a small flame to prove his claims.

((The flame is for show only. As I said, mechanically, my guy is still only a fighter.))

Hopefully, the manners his master taught him would serve him well in Zenthil Keep. He knew that to disobey would bring death on himself and a possibly worse backlash on his master, so he knew what he had to do, even if he did hate taking orders from Banites, or anyone else for that matter. His heart belonged to Kossuth and his flames.

[Katasi]

Dystros leans against the wall idly. He pulls one of his two visible daggers and begins to trim his fingernails. "I'm just a poor wanderer. I've killed a few people before, but I'm not very good. I've just always lived by getting by."

bluff - (1d20+5)[12]

[Faulkner]

Tasha looks over the soldier and priest, well pleased that this didn't look to be a boring baby-sit the merchants routine as she had feared. She reaches one hand up and brushes back a stray lock of hair, smiling coyly at everyone and no one in particular. "I'm Tasha, though Tash will do just fine. I know a little bit of magic, and a little bit of this." Tasha reaches past that lock of hair and pats the hilt of a greatsword strapped to her back, the blade standing nearly as tall as the girl. "I am most pleased to make everyone's acquaintance." Tasha's smile broadens to a grin as she measures up her new companions. Yes, this should be fun.

[MCerberus]

Harold

Harold appears a strange man. Though somewhat handsome, he carries himself in an odd, almost eerie manner. His bright costume of blue and yellow contrasts sharply with an array of weapons carried. Oddly enough, the least deadly of these, a whip, is carried at his hip, the most accessible of the lot.

In a voice both calming and slightly filled with malice he approaches the Dreadmaster.

"I am a darksinger, often a teller of tales. Unlike many of my colleagues, I possess skills usable to fight. Of course I possess both a silvery tongue and knowledge of old."

Harold takes a moment to survey the reaction of his employer before continuing.

"You may wonder why someone like me would be interested in this. I can promise you this mission itself will be forever secret, but there are more stories here. They need to be told."

[Ertier]

Julian stands idly in the room with an aura of slight disgust about him. His face is covered with a black scarf, but his distaste for present company is noticable. The name's Julian Ghostfoot. I prefer to go by my first name only though. I'm a tracker and archer, though I can fight with a spear in melee or be stealthy if necessary. I specialize in mounted combat, hit them hard before they can hit back. Julian looks around at his new companions. Looks like you have me working with a bunch of kids that fancy themselves the next Manshoon. Kindergarten of the damned is more like it.

[Xerah]

Alexander Bersk

A tall, fit, statuesque human in his mid twenties watched quietly as the others introduced themselves. Based on first impressions on how they looked, none of them, except for perhaps the female, were followers of the Black Hand. That meant that he was likely here to supervise these others. It never is a pleasant task to deal with the unfaithful, horrible at following orders.

Alexander waited until the others had finished speaking before moving toward the Dreadmaster. His black set of banded mail and the shield on his back rattled with the movement. “Dreadmaster,” Alex paused for a moment to slightly bow his head in respect, “my name is Alexander Bersk, Tyrant of Bane and I shall serve your orders in whichever way and degree you deem necessary.” He didn’t look at Julian after he spoke as his words confirmed his initial thoughts. The man lacked respect and older or not, if he was going to be working with the Zhentarim, Julian would need to respect the command structure. He idly readjusted the black steel platemail gauntlet on his right hand.

[Tevin]

Dreadmaster Kharne listens to you all in turn, focusing his attention on each as they speak, his expression remains the same until Dystros speaks and he raises an eyebrow at him. He lets everyone speak their piece before responding, "I see, well then you seem to have all of the bases covered. We have a master of arms, and magic," he nods to Charos, "a liar," he nods to the unintroduced human man lounging against the wall, "and a poor one at that. A mistress of the art," motioning to Tasha, "a tracker, which should be most useful... and then this one," he stares at the other unintroduced male. "You may chronicle your own endeavors, darksinger, but as Islev has said, speaking of this mission, in any way will endanger our city. I will not allow this to happen so, I would keep your musings to yourself, friend." His attention goes back to the slender man, Dystros "And you... you would do well not to lie in my pressence again, fool. I am not some common fool who so easily believes the honeyed words of fops and The Dark Lord has gifted me with various tools to weed out those who would spread chaos amonst our fair city." His attention finally falls on the bowing, statuesque man before him. "I am pleased to meet you, Master Bersk. I am confident that you will be able to hold this rabble together to complete your task. I'm sure our church will be paying extra attention to how well you perform..." The dreadmaster nods slightly to Alexander, a wide smile spreading across his round face.

"Now, as for the particulars... recently one of our small nearby settlements, Varsinton, reported finding a hidden chamber in the bowels of an old silver mine. They stumbled upon it accidentally while carving a new tunnel. Apparently the entrance was warded with some sort of trap and none there have risked entering. A scouting group was dispatched to the mine but were intercepted along the way. Evidence suggest that they were ambushed in their sleep by some sort of assassins. We found numerous arrows of this design," he tugs half an arrow from his belt, displaying the fine craftsmanship and silver and black fletching. "We assume it is not just some band of savage orcs or other monsters from the area due to the fine craft of their arrows... maybe Moonstars, maybe Iron Throne, we are not sure. Lord Chembryl believes the mine holds an entrance to an ancient Zhentilar tomb and has requested us to aquire any artifacts from within." He idly places the broken arrow on the table beside him, sharing a look with Islev before continuing, "We are sending outsiders because of the attack on our scouting team. Someone knew they would be dispatched and ambushed them. They will be looking for a Zhent force, they shouldn't be looking for you. Also, after the destruction of our city during Cyrics rule any show of weakness cannot be tolerated. If word spreads that our men are being butchered so near to the city proper chaos will ensue. If you are slain you have no real connection to us, it will be easier to keep fear from spreading amongst the populace."

"If you return with the chambers beneath the mine secure, you will each recieve a payment of 200 platinum. If you find out who slew the scouting team I will give more... Ask around Varsinton for news of any outsiders but keep your true intent and your affiliation with us, secret. Such a task should be easily achieved with such a diverse band, no?"

The Dreadmaster straightens to his full, diminutive height, clasping his black guantleted hands together. "Do you have any questions?"

[Ertier]

Julian stands to attention, First, sir, I had a question regarding that arrow there. It seems highly illogical that the enemy force in question would use ranged weapons to kill sleeping foes. Even if they were sleeping in shifts, arrows would only be a waste. Either our soon to be prey is dimwitted enough to waste resources on an easily ambushed, and killed, quarry, or, the force is large enough that resources are a non-issue. Julian grits his teeth in contemplation. That is, if your men were actually asleep. Can I see that arrow?

FOR TEVIN

Spoiler

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Knowledge [Nature] to determine the type of wood (and probable region of crafting) on the arrow: (1d20+3)[22]

[Katasi]

Dystros almost drools at hear the words 200 platinum, but that doesn't stop him from asking "Just how much more will you pay us?"

[Tevin]

"By all means," Kharne hands Julian the arrow. "The force was of considerable size and our soldiers are trained to fight in tandem, even while caught unaware it would be foolish to engage them up close. Never the less, we found no traces of slain or even injured parties beside our troops. Their tactics seemed to have worked."

(It appears to be made out of simple pine and could reasonably be from any where around the region)

Regarding the excited man Kharne speaks coldly "That depends on the true nature of the tomb, stranger." He glowers at him as he speaks the last word, pointing out he has still yet to identify himself.

[Katasi]

Dystros glares at him. "Well then, I guess we'll just have to find out what's in there then won't we?"

[Ertier]

Well, crap. It's pine. That means it could be from anywhere from the Sword Coast to Moonsea. As far as the fletching goes, the only major organization that uses black, to my knowledge, is this one. And Banites, though tyrannical, aren't treasonous and indiscriminate killers. There is no way in the Nine Hells that this was friendly fire. You guys are good to have on a team. Julian removes his scarf out of respect, revealing a wide grin and a golden incisor. He looks over at Alexander. What about you? What do you think? The Harpers use silver, but... Harpers don't ambush parties out of range of Detect Evil. And there's no way that they would attack a sleeping camp of people without sure knowledge that they were Zhentish. You're a Tyrant of Bane, if I think this is fishy, you must certainly agree. I don't like the smell at all, something's amiss. But, what the hell, I'm in.

[Tevin]

Captain Islev slams his fist against the desk, drawing the attention of everyone in the room, Kharne's icy glare remains on Dystros, however. "You will watch your tone when speaking to the Dreadmaster outsider! If you wish to be paid, or more importantly, do not wish to be formally introduced to the gallows you will show some respect!" His hand rests tensely on the hilt of his longsword as he barks his orders.

"Easy Captain, if this one really irritated me I would squash it as one would squash any common insect. If nothing else maybe he'll be good to take a blade for one of these others. Return when you're done, fop, and you'll be rewarded. I promise you that." Dreadmaster Kharne smiles wickedly, never lowering his gaze from the insubordinate Dystros.

[Katasi]

Dystros growls. "Like it or don't like. I'm just interested in doing this and getting paid."

[Tevin]

Kharne fianlly takes his eyes off of Dystros to regard the ranger, "I doubt it was harpers. We still have a pact with the Blackstaff, an open attack on our men would break the truce and invite the Black Network to once again spread through the Sword Coast. If it was meddlers I would assume it would be that off shoot, the Moonstars. We have no proof either way, yet."

[Katasi]

Dystros sighs. "Who are these moonstars anyway?"

[MCerberus]

Harold

Harold stares back at the dreadmaster in a blank stare void of any fear of threats. One gets used to being an inch from the powers that be if one stays in the sea region long enough. While their employer takes a brief moment to address the concerns of the group's tracker, he turns towards the "liar" and muses,

"You know they don't just kill you around here. It's said you can hear the screams of the tortured ring through many streets in the dead of night. Conveniently enough, nobody lives to report of what they've had done to them."

Turning back to Kharn, he says calmly, "To kill a sentry so heavily armed would be impressive. Doubly so to kill them silently. Have you checked for signs of toxin on arrow or shiv?"

[Faulkner]

Tasha frowns and stares at the broken arrow shaft as though it were a book whose pages she could not read. "I have to agree with Julian I'm afraid." The frown departs her face, leaving a neutral expression. "There are far easier and less ostentatious ways to murder the slumbering. This is a message, a challenge to the power of both the Zhentarim and the Church. The sort that cannot go unanswered. We shall simply have to find them and crush them like the belligerent insects they are." Tasha's face contorts to one of anger and disgust as she speaks, nearly spitting out the last words. She blinks, as though surprised at hearing herself, forces her face to go neutral.
"We might have better luck determining who sent the message once we know what it says. Or would the other way around be better? We know where the tomb is, we don't know who ambushed the previous group, why, or how they managed to determine their course and purpose." Tasha looks around at her companions, then shrugs. "Such mysteries are not my field of expertise."

[Ertier]

Kitten's got claws... I like this girl already... Julian smirks and then nods towards Tasha in an approving manner.

[Katasi]

Dystros shrugs at the warning. "To kill me they've gotta catch me, and I'd kill myself before they got me."

[Xerah]

Alexander Bersk

"Yes Dreadmaster, I shall mold these into an effective arm of the Zhentarim. We will succeed in your task." He took another moment to scan around at the others with him, his new companions. In his mind, he had just been given control over this group and the authority to deal with any who decide to step out of line.

As Dystros chipped back to the Dreadmaster, Alex pulled his gaunleted, right hand into his body. At Islev's outburst, he began to move his hand to backhand Dystros but stopped short as the Dreadmaster spoke.

Warming up slightly to Julian, Alex nodded with his words. "You are correct. The use of ranged weapons at close range against prone targets is not efficient. You are also correct about the likelihood of friendly fire, however, the threat of Cyric is always looming on the horizon. Although the arrows smell of elves, I have doubts that they wouldn't leave a sign. Frankly, I believe we are dealing with your information traveling through a Cyricst. He sent the team, made it seem like Moonstars and the next likely move rumor mongering. If that doesn't happen, we can almost be assured it was not dissension among the ranks."

"The Moonstars are a group similar to Harpers that were created after the aforementioned deal by the same man. Basically, assume they're Harpers just with more elves." As he was speaking, he idly twisted the plate gauntlet on his right hand.

"Set up or not, we've been given a task - one in which you will be paid for - and so we need to complete it. I do not believe that we will learn anything further by remaining here.

[Katasi]

Dystros' hand is clenched tighter on the dagger still in his hand. He thinks to himself, without saying it. Just try and hit me. I'll kill you, if you're lucky.

[Ertier]

Hey, times a wasting. In the words of the Bedine: A Camel may survive for weeks without water, but it doesn't need to. Don't waste time.

[MCerberus]

Harold

Shaking his head at the continued thought at the conspiricy, Harold moves a few steps forward. "It's a shame we aren't fishing. The red herrings could potentially feed us for weeks."

Moving his head slightly, he finishes the though, "Julian is correct. If you'll allow me the term, we could solve much more with some wetwork than talk."

[Arq Kujos]

Charos listened impatiently to his "companions" as they prattled on. Finally, when it seemed as though the group would finally move, he stood, popped his neck, and yawned.

Finally. I thought we'd die of old age here. Charos turned to the Banite who so smugly assumed leadership. Please, lead the way. Kossuth wills that I follow you, so follow you I shall.

[Katasi]

Dystros nods. "I agree, let's go."