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The pirate listened to the group discuss the proper course of action to torment him. With a face covered in blood, and a sickening blood-filled snort when he inhaled, he curled his legs up a bit and leaned on one elbow, using his bandana to wipe off his face, which had fear plastered across it more than his nose.
"The map! You all stole our map ye did. 'Twas hidden in the temple until our Cap'n could get out of the dungeon of Gothmoor's Watch. He's out and ye stole it a day before we planned on walking in and getting it."
He seemed to gather a bit of courage as he spoke, watching the rest of the group bicker amongst themselves.
"Ye don't know what ye carry, and Cap'n intends on making sure he gets the map from ye. I'll say no more." He seemed genuinely intimidated, but smiled regardless of the fact , happy with how he put the group's current predicament.
The faint sound of a Watch Whistle is heard through the open window and you see Etsia's hawk look up, skyward, then immediately dart inside and almost hide in the corner of the room, landing on a backpack for a low perch.
Etsia forgot about the pirate and the rest of the room the moment her hawk flew in. She made a querying sound and approached the nervous bird carefully to brush her fingers over the feathers. The hawk let out some distressed alarming sounds and refused to be soothed.
The druid moved slowly toward the window, watching the skies. "...it's a predator-alarm..."
The paladin frowned severely down at Fistar as he bypassed her, and watched his actions closely. The threat made her scowl, but as the pirate babbled it seemed that Fistar's promised violence would not bear fruit so she decided to let it pass. For now.
She had only a moment to ponder the new knowledge before the hawk flitted in. Wary, Jessamyn moved to station herself between the others and the window just in case. While the situation seemed well in hand, one could never be entirely sure.
"Bah map, " Fistar commented as he stood up and sheath his dagger away, He was tempted to do another swift kick at the prone figure, but saw the paladin looking disapprovingly at him, he smiled weakly at her and shrugged.
He was about to comment on the state of the affairs of the pirates mother and her profound disappointment in her son. When the hawk flew in with some distress.
The wild elf comment about the hawks call being a predator alarm, brought his attention to the window, closely following the paladin.
Talk is cheap.
Cheap is good
Three Giant bats, the size of small sloops, beat their wings as they land ,with rider in tow, onto the roof. The sounds of the armored men dismounting from the monsterous bats walk across the thick roof and begin walking around.
The sound of people shuffling about downstairs lets you know people cleared out as the sound of metal armor clanking on itself makes it's way up the stairs.
A frown of concern at the sound of the hawk drew her out of her musings. With a quick gesture to Kelzir, she turned towards the door, only then realizing that she should probably speak with their companions, "We should be armored when they arrive."
Without so much as waiting for a response, she slipped out the door, ignoring the guards outside, and into the room she'd shared with Kelzir, fully intending to armor and re-arm herself before the Watch arrived.
"They ride bats!" The druid peered up, her green eyes wide... with interest and astonishment more than actual fear. If they were riding the bats, it meant they were trained. "How clever!" She paused for a moment, craning her neck to try and see the big bats better. "...I wanna ride one, too."
Other outsiders, and soon the person with an answer would be gone. He looked at the large woman with an equally large sword for a moment before quietly speaking.
"Perhaps we should find out HOW they had known of the document. Before our answer is taken away from us. The one reasonable possibility is that there was somebody on the inside, masquerading as a follower. It also seems possible, that they've been using that spot as means of passing information for a while."
His voice vanished, quietly as though it had never been. It was their decision to chose the course they took. He was only here for his Mistress. He flowed back into the room with Zarraema, to ensuring she was secure into her armor before donning his own with practiced ease.
The paladin tilted her head, hearing Kelzir's comment.
"Unless the sentence is execution, there should be sufficient time for my temple to speak with him and investigate as well. I will speak to the Watchmen to this end and make sure my temple is informed. We are not the ones to pry at internal affairs; we have our mission. But that is a wise observation. Thank you, Kelzir."
Fistar sighed, he had a feeling that the half elf downstairs had probably left. So shrugging his shoulders he went to the bed by the door and plopped himself down. He placed his rapier at the foot of the bed and his dagger placed under his pillow. He then layed back against the headboard and folded his arms to watch the procedings.
Talk is cheap.
Cheap is good
He was completely impassive as the paladin dismissed the veiled warning. It was hard to understand why some of these people on the surface didn't see things behind the trappings that covered them. More people finding out about something that had brought them trouble, would only mean more difficulty along the way.
With a silent sigh, he finished pulling his armor on and turned back around. Guards, debatable people to trust at best. One set, one faction. Another set, another faction. Which would do them the least harm, that was the question. And to make matters worse, the woman with the sword obviously had been conditioned to absolutely trust those who she viewed as superiors.
Even a slave in the Underdark didn't trust their masters. No matter how valuable the slave was. At any moment, they could turn on them, use them to further their own ends or agenda, or just cast them aside. The woman trusted too easily, particularly a place she knew nothing of, and people that she didn't know.
He flicked his hand to Zarraema, fingers dancing in the silent language of the Deep Dark. "I think the big one trusts too easily, it might cause you difficulty, Mistress."
Using the same silent gestures and keeping as neutral an expression as possible, she returned, "Us, Kelzir. Us. And that is why I had us retrieve our things. I don't trust those that are coming. The Innkeep was too ready with his grin."
With a final adjustment to her cloak, she reached back to ensure that her bastard sword was loose in its baldric and that the tiny, simple dagger strapped to the small of her back would come easily, if needed. Without a word, and confident in the fact that Kelzir would not be far behind, she straightened her posture and strode across the hall. She would be ready for whatever "The Watch" was.
The bootsteps approach and the two guards outside stiffen and move off to the other side of the hallway. Three armed Gothmoor Watch enter the hallway and approach the door to the room holding the pirate. The bartender was vulturing around the leader of the Watch, spouting the story and offering any and all help the watch could need. Seemingly bored and mainly ignoring the Tender, he holds a gauntleted hand up to silence the weasley tender and looks to the room.
The sharp eyes on the aged face looked the room over. He started with the Pirate, then the various members in this room. His eyes stopped on jessamyn as he spoke:
"My name is Captain Frenloche. What Happened here?"
The paladin straightened from her wary posture and slung her sword across her shoulder in the closest to a neutral pose she could get without the greatsword's sheath. Still in her nightclothes, with her long platinum braid still down from its usual combat-coil.
"Jessamyn Starwater, paladin of the temple of Torm, sir," she said briskly. "This miscreant--" A nod toward the pirate on the floor. "--and several others -- at least two, likely more -- crept into this room and that of our companions across the hall in the apparent attempt to rob us. This one and one other came into our room. Upon realizing that we were not asleep, this one struck my room-mate--" Indicating Etsia. "--and injured her, though she has mended herself now. There was some signal and they attempted to retreat, and I was forced to detain this one. It seems the others escaped out a window meanwhile. My companions would know more."
Captain Frenloche chuckled slightly and looked to the once injured wild elf. His old eyes looked back to the pirate and gave him a nudge with his spurred boot and cleared his throat.
"Is this true? Did you come in here and do bodily harm to this innocent?" His voice more solid, more gruff as he talked at the pirate.
"n-no. I didn't do no such thing! I was merely brought up here as a late night rendevous with the little one, and her big sister then jumped me from behind."
Before the paladin and the wild elf could reply to the thug's lies, a voice that sounded like wind chimes on a summer breeze came from the hallway.
"He lies. The females speak the truth."
A female dark elf, not one of your partners across the hall, walks into view at the entrance to the room. Her silver hair is briaded into seven thick braids running down to her back and silver and blue ribbon hold them in place. Her body is covered in layers of cloth and a small blue cape adorns her back. a tattoo sits on the left side of her face, in the shape of a crescent moon, colored white.
"Captain Frenloche, Take the man away. Let us not bother these women any more this evening. Jessamyn of Torm, if your church wishes to speak to this man, he will be held in the dungeon at the Spire. Feel free to send word, we will have him ready for any questions they may have. For now. I do not want anyone to bother you or your dark elven friends across the hall. let us leave you in peace." The woman gives a slow long bow and then turns and walks out. The two armed Watchmen pick up the now crying Pirate who seemed to have started wetting himself as they left the room and carried him down the hall. You hear the man mutter something between sobs about "graycloaks".
The room is now empty, the tender is back downstairs, the guards are gone and you are left alone, in your room.
Catching only a glimpse of the retreating backs of the strangers raised her ire and her concern a few degrees. She stepped through the door and folded her hands casually behind her back, giving the two women and the sleeping Wood Elf a careful, visual examination, "The prisoner is detained? There was no trouble?"
She was having some difficulty believing her own questions, having expected the worst from whomever "The Watch" was.
The paladin was frowning, pale brows drawn down slightly as she contemplated the recent events. At Zarraema's question, she shook herself from her thoughts and gave the drow woman a nod.
"As Etsia said, more or less. I will report this and Kelzir's suspicions to the Temple of Torm in the morning, but for now we should get what sleep we can. I would advise locking all windows and doors."
That said, she inclined her head politely to Zarraema and headed back to her bed, to set her sword across the foot of it in the prior position before heading to close and lock the windows.
The little druid sighed faintly as the windows closed, but she understood the reason. Instead she just whispered soothing sounds to the hawk until it became drowsy, then nestled back into blankets herself.
She dreamed of the white fox chasing pirates down an alleyway, the tall paladin standing at the end of it, stopping them one by one with a well-aimed swing of the sword to the head. She clapped in her dream.
He watched impassively, at the appearance of the other drow woman his mind sank into simple thoughts. Every dent, crease and joint of the floor he stood upon consumed his conscious mind. Nothing of who he was remained, only the floor and his desire to serve his Mistress.
Their footsteps, moving away, did not restore his consciousness. It wasn't until he heard the flap of wings that his mind returned to itself. Be all of a single thing, embrace it, become it, survival traits that had all served him well.
He followed Zarraema's movements, like an automaton during the time they were there. Staying close by in the event she may need his assistance. Only a single thought strayed as he "woke" up.
Aware of the subtle change in Kelzir from her shadow to her mindless servant, she shifted between the desire to speak with the "moon woman" and the instinct to keep a distance. Finally, her curiosity and hope got the better of her.
"Then, we should all rest and be prepared for the morning," saw her out of the room. However, instead of continuing across the hallway to their room, she started towards the stairs and the unidentified Drowish woman with purposeful, confident steps. It wouldn't do, after all, to show doubt.
Who was this woman? One of the Moon Maiden's? One of the Queen's? The answer might seem obvious, save for the confusion they'd met since coming here. After all, what servant of the Queen would ever dare boldly display the Dark Lady's symbol?
Upon reaching the entourage, with Kelzir in tow, she inclined her head ever-so-slightly, and waited...
( It's a case of mind over map, I have no mind so there is no map )
He followed his Mistress, head lowered and eyes downcast. His collar hidden from view. As they moved down the hall, different switches were thrown in his head. Nearly returning to the blank slate it was before, his mind retreated. Only enough of it remained to sense a threat, to fill an order, or defend Zarraema.
The female Drow looks over her shoulder and smiles. When she turns you can see the half moon tattoo on the side of her face. You can also see it was burned into her face at some point, then paint was applied to the scar as it is raised slightly. Her few braids of white hair move to the side as she runs her hand through her hair, placing it behind her ear.
"Ahh, the other two that were accosted. I hope we have serviced your complaint to your desired outcome." She looks at you with her strange blue eyes as the other men she was talking to left her and you alone in the hallway. With a quick look to Kelzir's posture and the way he stood behind Zarrema, the female drow looks up at Zarraema's eyes.
"You are recently arrived...from the underground. Correct?" You notice she has a small medallion outide of her robes and wrapped layered clothing that holds a full moon and two twin blades crossed in reverse to frame the moon on the ornamental medallion.
The medallion caught and kept her eyes for a moment, until she began answering the woman. She met her gaze with hope-filled violet eyes, "I'm unfamiliar with the practices of this city with regards to punishment. So long as the culprit is suitably dealt with and will not return to harry us, I suppose the outcome is acceptable."
"...and, Kelzir..." she turns to look at her slave-friend and gives a quiet sigh of frustration at his posture and demeanor, "...and I have been above for perhaps a handful of months; less than a year's time. Though, we are attempting to be less than obvious - our departure was ... difficult."
"The males of our kind come up to the surface one of two ways. Bitter and violent, looking to lash out at any and all females that even speak to them, or they come up like kelzir here...." She motions with a three ring and bracelet hand to Kelzir. "...They come up broken and Spiritually dead. unsure how to act other than the way they have been bred and raised to. I can usually tell the recent ones to the surface, as they are usually the more extreme of the two choices." Her painted, purple lips part and widen in a smile as her eyes move to Kelzir's form, then back to Zarraema.
"I do hope you find the Knight's City most pleasant. It is our destiny. Gothmoor was made by dark elves, for darkelves. Our heritage grows us above and beyond anyone still crawling through dirty holes." She tosses a quick glance over her shoulder then back to Zarraema.
"I do not wish to keep you. I apologize for the outburst, and shall make sure you...'never' see this man again." Her hand sweeps past her to motion to the man being drug down the stairs.
"My name is Lei'yela Frost. If you have any more need of the Watch, or questions not able to be answered by normal troops, feel free to drop by the Spire." She bows to you.
So wanting to disagree with Lei'yela's assessment of Kelzir's state of being, she simply returned the woman's bow and watched her go. I cannot shatter the illusion that he's set up for himself... even if I disagree with it.
Without further word, she turned back to their room with the intention of finding sleep and knowing that Kelzir would follow.
The paladin rested...or tried to. Kelzir's suspicions troubled her, as did the possibility of another evening assault. Still, she had done what she could; the doors and windows were locked, and her sword was ready, resting again by her feet so that she could draw it up swiftly if needed.
The rest of the evening goes off without a hitch, and the remainder of the evening is peacefu and without event. dreams trouble each of you, and although details cannot be remembered, you do remember the feeling...of excitement.
You all wake up to the smell of cooked eggs, fresh vegetables, and warmed muffins and hardloaf bread. A soft rap on both doors and the soft voice of a boy is heard
"Breakfast is ready downstairs. Whenever you're ready."
The soft of sfot footsteps leaving the area in front of your door and another rap on the next doors can barely be heard as you wake up.