OathMaker

Tears of the moon [Skygirl/Oathmaker]

Nuvyen listened to Sef's story while every so often looking towards the woods north of their home, eyes narrowing to try and catch a glimpse of anything suspicious. No doubt he would have issues seeing anything out of the ordinary until the Sharran assassins wanted to be revealed; he knew all too well how well trained they were in skulking before their assumed kill (even Shadowheart had gotten the jump on him a couple of times with how quiet her steps could be). While Sef attested that he had made it more than a mile before getting to their home, Nuvyen found it difficult to believe that the Sharrans couldn't catch up to someone wounded and with such an important mission. Wouldn't they have wanted to murder Sef before he could deliver the missive? And wouldn't a priest of Selune, no matter how potentially inexperienced, be able to heal himself enough? Maybe that's how he got to their front step...and yet, he was convinced that Sharran blades inflicted some kind of ailment that didn't permit the victim to be healed of any kind (Gale had called the condition "Bonechilled" and Nuvyen had been on the receiving end of that magic several times in battle; not fun).

His thoughts on the matter came to a halt as his love looked up to him, handing him the letter and asking for his input. Nuvyen looked over the letter himself, scanning the pages for any discrepancy, but found none. It was moments like these, the very, very rare moments when he wished that they had their telepathic link still intact from their unwelcome cranial guests so he could communicate his doubts. A subtle, hasty frown flashing across his face would have to be enough before he responded:
"It appears you've succeeded on your mission in getting us the missive, for which we're grateful. The least we could do is give you a roof over your head and company that won't try to stab you to death until morning."
"You would offer me that? A kindness indeed." Sef managed to straight up against the front wall of the house, a grateful smile tainted with what Nuvyen thought was malice flickered.
"I would be most appreciative. The assassins were not too far behind and if Shadowheart is correct about my bleeding, they could be here sooner than we realize." Those last few words sent a shiver down the Monk's spine, his Ki vibrating in alarm. Something was drastically off, but Sef's exterior self nor his story could be proven as false. He and Shadowheart would have to coax the truth out carefully. Thankfully, he and his partner were adept at this process through experience.
"Indeed; please, go inside and down the hallway to the second door on your left. You can rest there for a while before you make the trek back to Baldur's gate."
"I am most grateful. The Moonmaiden bless you." Sef gingerly walked through the front door, Nuvyen closing it behind the priest before waiting a few seconds, then motioned to Shadowheart, taking her in his arms, whispering as quietly as he could:
"Something's off with him. I can play decoy outside with our owlbear friend and meditate, see if I can't detect the assassins before they come and try to discern why my Ki was disturbed so greatly if you want to go inside and survey his actions...or wait out here with me. Won't have much to say to you while I'm meditating unfortunately." A chuckle.
"Unless you can think of a better way to handle this odd and unfortunate interruption to our evening?"

Royal Distraction [IC] [The Raven CallsxOathmaker]

The tavern had grown eerily still as Iris and her squadron put a fearsome display of power in full view of Jove and his would-be assistants in assault, the door to the establishment slamming shut moments after Iris began to speak. Olosse himself had a few chills creep down his spine as he felt the power of his private guard begin to bristle with eager anticipation; indeed, he had actually been looking forward to seeing his guard (especially Iris) in full action, but her showmanship (showwomanship?) did the job well enough, Jove's once intimidating tone softening considerably:
"Ffffine, well and good." Olosse frowned.
"And here I was thinking that you all would get a very personal demonstration of why the Shadowguard of Ishmeldia is the most feared honorguard across the Continent. Ah well, maybe you and your motley crew will get the opportunity to watch, not participate." Olosse sheathed his dagger as he commanded:
"Stand down, Shadows. No blood, tonight...fortunately or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it." The tavern returned to it's grimy decor, door swinging open again.
"Now, let's return to the subject we were discussing in such a civil manner: the plot against Rakuhor. What might be the issue?" Jove grunted as he began filling tankards, sliding them down the counter to slightly trembling servers who frantically skittered off to fulfill Iris' request.
"Rakuhor has been making a lot of enemies lately. Horde's numbers are scattered, thinning. Old man thinks he can muscle the Iron Collective out of not just Manka, but trade ports all along the coast." Olosse cocked a brow.
"This is news to me."
"Think the old saw would want his shiny new trade partner to find out that the once proud Horde of Vadrudor is being relegated to strong-arming port guards and under-table deals? No no, liege, you're just the sword he wishes to wield." A pause, Jove's voice descending a few decibels:
"And the Bludless? They're just common folk, like me, like all the folk in here who just wan-" A sudden gurgle emerged from the tavern owner, foam and spittle flying out of his mouth as he seized violently, eyes rolling into the back of his head as a bluish light enveloped his massive form. Olosse jumped back, hand reaching for his dagger as the patrons and the prince watched in disgust as the bluish light turned crimson red, incorporeal hands forming out of the light and snapping the spine of Olosse's former conversation partner. All at once, the body collapsed to the floor, a lifeless heap.
"SORCERY!"
"MAGIC!"
With similar cries the patrons fled to the door, crashing into each other as they scattered nearly in unison, their panic echoing in the streets. Olosse, however, stood silently, mind racing.
"My, my; this is beginning to get far more complex than I imagined...or wanted." He motioned for Iris, wherever she was, to come to his side.
"My dear, you of all people should recognize the kind of magic at work here." While magic users were far and far between, his father had demanded that all three of his children study the annals of the Continent when it came to magic, knowing full well that the very, very few who could manipulate the fabric of the supernatural had brought the world to the brink of utter annihilation save for the intervention of other magic users, both groups fading into the ether over time. It was chilling to think that a magic user was present in the city, let alone one who was skilled in Evocation or the art of manipulating light, matter and the elements to create whatever they wished.
"Do you sense anything nearby in the shadows?"

Tears of the moon [Skygirl/Oathmaker]

Nuvyen's brow shot up in response to the owlbear's commotion, chuckling.
"Well, he'll have to learn how to be more of a vegetable consumer if he keeps eating everything in sight." As he drew within a foot or so of his partner, he thought he saw a flicker of apprehension flash across her eyes while asking if things had gone alright. He smiled, nodding as he took her into his arms, planting a soft kiss before telling her:
"Nothing wrong, love. Scratch and I got...distracted in Soubar by the chapel." He would tell her more over dinner, but why make her worry even more? Besides...
"I also was waiting for our favorite alchemist to arrange something for you." Removing himself from their embrace, he withdrew the arrangement of orchids from the satchel he had carried, placing the bouquet in her hands.
"Not exactly easy to find these beauties in this area, but apparently Lurcena had been working on growing these in her basement and when I told her that these were your favorite flower, she wanted to put something together for you so you could try and grow them here." The understated yet beautiful arrangement seemed to compliment and frame Shadowheart just right, especially with the orange hues of sunset reigning over them.

Goodness she was beautiful.

Not wanting to gawk for too long (and make her feel a touch embarassed), he took the satchel back into his right hand, casually brushing flecks of dirt off of Shadowheart's robes with a smile.
"I'll start on dinner if you can get BOTH of our animals in line." Scratch barked in the direction of the wooded area that led farther north in the direction of Waterdeep, tongue lolling.
"I'll leave you to it."

---

Evening featured a pleasant dinner and a fire in the hearth afterward, the half-elf looking over some of the documents he had pulled from the chapel of Bane, grunting in disapproval at the dogmatic declarations of cruelty, murder and strife that Bane was willing to advocate for in the name of...chaos? Power? The pursuit of both made Bane and the other chosen Three look like petulant children that sought to upset the lives of mortals for no other reason than to prove they had power. Although, Shar made the chosen Three look literally like child's play; while the latter almost brought Baldur's Gate to it's knees, the former would seek to swallow the entirety of the universe in complete blackness. Shadowheart had shared her studies about Shar and contrasted them with what she was learning about Selune, prompting gratefulness for his love's newfound devotion to the Moonmaiden and horror towards what Shar was willing to do to all who accepted her embrace.

He sat up in the high-backed chair he currently occupied, placing the last of the documents on a nearby end-table, about to see if Shadowheart wanted to take an evening stroll when he heard a sharp bark emanate from Scratch, the canine moving swiftly from the living area to the front door, barking again. A shock of adrenaline ran through his system, shooting out of his chair and half-sprinting to the door, swinging it open to find...nothing. He refocused his gaze to scan farther in the distance, taking a few steps out of the home and turning to the woods to find a figure shambling towards them.
"Shadowheart, we've got company!" As the figure came closer, the near full moon's light cast a glow to illuminate the figure's features: a human, male, about five foot, eight inches, garbed in what once were gracefully white robes now stained with crimson and beige, earrings in both ears with what looked like-
"Silverstars...a priest of Selune...hells!" Nuvyen ran to the priest and quickly offered a supporting shoulder, the latter slumping against Nuvyen's frame, breath coming in ragged gasps.
"He's wounded! Where do you want me to bring him?"

Draw near to your destruction [IAmAugustReigns/Oathmaker]

Placeholder post!

Royal Distraction [IC] [The Raven CallsxOathmaker]

Olosse's brow shot up at her first request, staying fixed in surprise at the second. He chortled, eyes sparkling.
"Did you...did you just ask to go shopping, Iris?" Another chortle, this time a bit louder.
"Oh of course! We must make sure you appear up to snuff, which won't be very difficult given who you'll be around." Thankfully Rowena did not stir at the slightly derogatory comment about Vadrudorian aesthetics.
"It's a good ploy, of course. Many will be on guard around you, especially with the reputation the Shadows have among the general populace, but if they get to see you unfettered from...that-" He motioned at her uniform.
"They'll absolutely be more spirited, maybe even let slip a few things we can file away for later. To think that Iris, my stalwart defender, will be my companion. I'm tickled." Olosse walked to a nearby dresser, opening the heavy wooden drawer at the very top.
"But I'm afraid we'll have to go through business first, won't be? I'll need you to look very Shadowy and menacing if it comes to it. Find the two other guards that are probably around here somewhere and meet me down at the Vikar's Light. It's in the Victory quarter, closest to the harbor and the least civilized part of the capitol. When I arrive, follow me inside and do not engage with anyone until I say so. I'll need to grease some palms and spin a few lewd yarns, so I'm not expecting trouble, but if we do, I'll be sure to let you know." Olosse withdrew garb fit for the occasion: a blue short-sleeved shirt with a ruffled collar and sandals that had trails of dirt stuck to the bottom. The pants would stay on. His eyes caught Iris once more, drawing closer to her and putting a hand on her shoulder.
"I can't thank you enough for all you've done so far. The dirty work of politics is unseemly at best." A smile.
"Which is why I cannot wait to see you in a ballgown. I'm suspect you'll enjoy the night off from blood and villainy...although I suppose you'll be encountering the latter tomorrow night, just more dressed up."

The Vikar's Light was a two-story building assembled with wooden planks, nails and apparently a lack of geometric awareness. The tavern's walls weren't properly rectangular or square nor did the building sit level, but instead sloped upward almost 30 degrees ,providing a very strange seating arrangement inside where tables stood at odd angles and dartboards mounted on the peak of the slope were there for the sport of seeing who could actually make five darts stick in a row. The trappings of a seedy tavern (dirt, soot, fluids of a questionable nature, sweat, etc) were all present, Olosse's nose wrinkling upon entering. It had been at least a year or so since he had come to visit Malaya, wondering silently if she was occupied (and he hoped she was. He wouldn't want Iris to see his more...well, hopefully she was busy).
"Well, our favorite piece of royal scum comes to visit after all this time, eh?!" A man with massive forearms and an even larger chest stood behind the bar, face flush with heat and activity, beard wagging.
"Jove in the flesh! Wonderful, wonderful, the place hasn't lost the crust yet!" A few chuckles from the regulars as Olose sauntered to the bar, the duo clasping hands with the former's right hand finding itself occupied with a handful of coin, earning Olosse a grateful nod.
"How long will you be gracing us with your presence till you go to visit-"
"Oh hush, hush, Jove, let's talk business for a minute." Olosse leaned forward, Jove mirroring the liege's posture.
"What in the bloody continent's name is going on at the docks, Jove?" A grunt as the large man leaned back, shaking his head, motioning to the tavern.
"A people oppressed, your liege, a people tired of it's oppressors."
"Here here!" Some of the regulars echoed.
"So much so that your children are commodities?" A grimace.
"It's better than what they have here." Olosse's hands gripped the counter.
"You're doing this on purpose?" Jove leaned forward again, forearms on the counter.
"Whatever you heard about the docks isn't all it seems. The Altans-"
"The bloody pirates?!"
"Keep your voice low, your liege." Olosse remained silent.
"One and the same, the Atlans offer us safe passage, families and children alike, from here to the Isles." The Isles of Manka were a part of the Iron Collective, a small cluster of land masses about 50 leagues off the coast that have been a haven for pirates, mercenaries and other ne'er do wells, but also a great place for those who want to hide .
"What could be so important to enact such a scheme?" Jove shook his head.
"Can't say much."
"Sure you can. With enough co-"
"No amount of coin in the world is going to stop what's coming to that blight Rakuhor." Chairs scraped behind Olosse as several men surrounded him.
"We know what you're here to do, Prince; call it off and get out of the city now. Stay, and your mother won't be mourning just your fa-" Olosse withdrew a dagger strapped underneath his shirt from it's holster hanging on his lower back and lunged over the counter, tip at Jove's throat.
"I dare you to finish your sentence." The prince hissed, eyes aflame.
"You won't...leave here...alive..." Jove's adam apple danced against the blade held at his throat as he smiled, the crowd of men closing in on Olosse.
"Shadows! We're in for it, tonight!"

Tears of the moon [Skygirl/Oathmaker]

Just so that I can have a reference point:

Elturgard: forgottenrealms.fandom.com/wiki/Eltur…
Church of Selune: forgottenrealms.fandom.com/wiki/Churc…
Monk abilities: dndbeyond.com/classes/monk#ClassFeatures

Tears of the moon [Skygirl/Oathmaker]

"Come on, give it up."
Nope
An exasperated sigh.
"You can't actually expect me to throw something like that."
Yes!
Another sigh.
"Just...come here." The stubborn creature ambled to the sigher, tail wagging furiously as it dropped the fragment of an Order of the Companion chestpiece, more than likely belonging to one of the many paladins that fell during the mysterious plague that occurred in this area not a few years ago. His deep green irises ran over the scratches and cracks, silvery black hair ruffling slightly as he shifted forward, running his hand over the solid white coat of who he considered to be one of his closest friends (Gale was slightly miffed by Scratch's place in the pantheon of friends, but then again, the wizard did enjoy giving Scratch belly rubs, so maybe they had formed an understanding).
"What a reminder." The half elf mumbled, tossing the chestpiece aside. What was it a reminder of, he wondered. The amount of suffering and death that this part of the Coast had seen over the years? Maybe the idea of a massive plague and people panicking in the streets hit too close to home; after all, it had only been six months since Baldur's Gate had withstood one of the most disastrous events in it's history, almost coming close to becoming the origin site of the final Grand Design (or at least, he hoped. Please by the Seldarine, no more Illithids). There were times even at home, sitting by their hearth in the quiet evenings, that memories surged back, threatening to drag him back to where he was only six months ago: trapped in that blasted pod, no memory of how he had gotten there, only knowing that his life as a monk in the Open Hand cloister had suddenly been upended.

He chuckled, rising from his once prone position. Maybe that's how his family had felt when he left Baldur's gate at the ripe age of 20 to discover the world, leaving behind his parents and younger brother to pursue a "purer" way than that of being minor nobility in Baldur's Gate. His father was grieved by his decision especially, seeing as Father had expected him to succeed him in his position as Assistant Chancellor of trade, wanting his work and sacrifices as one of the first High Elves holding position within the Coast. He had argued with Father before he left, railing against materialism, social caste systems and alienation from the self. It was all so moronic now, to not have just had an honest conversation with his father, who now along with his mother and younger brother occupied graves in the city as a result of a Bhaal cultist murdering them in broad daylight not too long before they arrived in the city (a legal missive had come from the family's lawyer, who received the travelers in the city and confirmed every horrid detail). No doubt Orin had ordered the attack to spite him, just like she tried to spite all of them. A vindictive smirk crossed his lips, knowing that the abomination was gone from this life for good.

He felt a gentle nudge at his leg, the half-elf looking down to see Scratch's tongue lolling out, eyes sparkling.
"You're right; no use dwelling on the past. Besides, our lovely Shadow is going to be wondering why it took us so long to retrieve ingredients for dinner." Indeed, he had set out when the sun was at it's peak, but now it was beginning to creep down towards the horizon. Their patch of happiness was located in-between Baldur's gate and Elturiel (or at least, what's left of it), but there were several small villages that dotted the path and Soubar, a walled town that was the most thriving in the area and had the best shops for the concoctions that he and Shadowheart created in the kitchen and alchemy lab (while not as good as his love at alchemic creations, he was getting the hang of it). Soubar was only about an hour's walk from their home, but maybe it was the detour to the chapel of Bane that he sidetracked him (no, not maybe, definitely). He hadn't had the courage to investigate the chapel until today, he and Scratch poking around the abandoned building to find little of value except for a few manuscripts written by zealots of Bane that outlined the god's teachings on cruelty and murder along with the chestpiece that Scratch had found.

"Nuvyen! Nuvyen!" The half-elf stood fully upright now, his broad frame (inherited from his mother's human side) striding forward out of the grounds of the chapel back into the town proper to greet the caller, who happened to be the shopkeeper he had been talking with earlier.
"I've got the Orchids all ready for you just like you asked."
"Wonderful. She'll absolutely love them, thank you." Along with the satchel of ingredients, Nuvyen had decided to purchase an arrangement of Night Orchids for their quite barren dinner table (all of their flora, fauna and crops were still not ready to be used thanks to just purchasing their land only three or so months ago).
"Tell the lady I send my greetings."

On the walk back, Nuvyen couldn't help but marvel at the beauty that this area of the Coast featured, especially due to being called "The Fields of the Dead". Tree lined paths, flora bursting out of seemingly every nook and cranny...it was actually quite perfect, which made their home and plot of land even more of a gift to be grateful for. They had roamed for three months after the Netherbrain was defeated, fending off Sharran assassins (while nearly naked. Fun times. He liked to remind Shadowheart of how great she looked while stabbing one of the assassins in the throat), going north to Waterdeep, somehow befriending an imp named Bing Bong that refused to stop following them until one day it suddenly vanished; yet, those adventures paled in comparison to the day a missive from Wyll had found it's way to them, telling them to meet him outside Elturel. It so happened that on his way with his retinue (because he had a retinue now) to sign formal treaties and do other political nonsense (his words) with the new government of Elturgard, he had passed an abandoned home with land that, upon investigation, had belonged to a husband and wife that moved out of Elturel and had died with no children to claim it. Remembering Shadowheart's love for animals and Nuvyen's desire to settle down somewhere, the Grand Duke purchased the home for the couple, asking only that they send some of their finest bounty to the budding refugee settlements that needed starter plants and seeds. It was a grand gesture on Wyll, but of course, their friend was prone to grand gestures in all things(Nuvyen remembered in the delirious moments after the Netherbrain was defeated, Wyll was the first to speak, waving his arms grandiosely, proclaiming that their names should be etched on the annals of history forever...or something like that).

Nuvyen could finally see their home, flanked by the aspiring gardens and plots of crops that they were tending to.

Home. He grinned.

"Go on, Scratch. I think someone else is going to want to see you." Their owlbear guardian should be around somewhere, which should mean that Shadowheart wouldn't be too far behind.

Tears of the moon [Skygirl/Oathmaker]

Hey! IC thread incoming.

Baldur's Gate 3 IC

Hey folks! I've got a main IC linked at the bottom of the post, but I just beat BG3 and I'm hankering to continue the adventures that I had with one of you wonderful people. If you have no idea what BG3 is, but the plot framework intrigues you and you're willing for me to help set the stage for you, I'm totally down for that. Obviously if you've played, are playing or beat the game, the lore helps, but it's not suuuper necessary unless you pick one of the character specific prompts below.

Let me know what you think by shooting me a PM! I'd love to chat!

Idea 1:
Premise: With the Elder Brain defeated and Baldur's Gate rebuilding from the chaos that the Chosen Three would have inflicted on the Sword Coast, the heroes of Faerun have all but disappeared from the limelight thanks to the relative peace that has come over the land. Yet, a traveller to Baldur's Gate stumbles upon a series of carved runes arranged in a circle, each with a mysterious symbol on them. In the center of the circle lies a bloodied heap of a person, their life essence barely clinging to their corporeal form. What happened to this pour soul? What are these runes?

Idea 2
Premise: With the Elder Brain defeated, the half-Elf Nuvyen [MC] and his love, Shadowheart [YC], seek solitude in the northern part of the Coast. Just a few months pass by until a bloodied note posted on their door reminds them both that Shar is still watching, hungering for the power that Shadowheart innately has within her. The note simply states: "Return to where you were born".
Note: Shadowheart was by far the sweetest character and so I'm very eager to play this idea out.

Idea 3:
Premise: As Baldur's gate rebuilds from the chaos of the Netherbrain attacks, the city contends with the formation of underground cults that worship the very monsters that sought to enslave them. Unrest threatens to grip the city, which means that Wyll Ravengard, Heart of the gate, is looking for brave souls willing to investigate where these cults are within the city and strike them down. MC is already enlisted in the fight, but is looking for a companion to assist him...

Idea 4:
Premise: While Baldur's gate was enveloped in utter chaos, another conspiracy was brewing in the humble(r) city of Waterdeep, where a horde of treasure is coveted by several guild factions that seek to gain control of Waterdeep and extend their influence down the Coast. With Baldur's gate in shambles, now would be the time to find this treasure and assert control.
Note: Totally flexible. If you want to do opposite factions, same factions, neutral party trying to seize the treasure, etc.

Link to main IC: roleplayerguild.com/topics/192388-oat…

Royal Distraction [IC] [The Raven CallsxOathmaker]

Olosse wrapped her ankle with the bandages, his eyes bouncing from what he was doing (didn't want to mess this up) to Iris' mournful gaze. It was odd to see her emote, let alone cry; no, odd wasn't the right word. Humanizing, maybe? Yes that was it. Iris had, no doubt due to her occupation, managed to keep herself at arms length (and then some) from the prince, allowing Olosse to see her as a valuable tool, yes, but as a person with emotions, dreams and aspirations? Not always. There had been a few moments in the last several years where he had seen brief flickers of passion spark from behind her normally stoic masquerade, so to see this...well, Olosse was moved.

Wrapping up her ankle completely, he grimaced, wiping the tears that were visible from her face (touching more skin in the process...humanizing indeed) before allowing a few moments of silence to pass between them, the only other noises in the room piercing the silence being Rowena's once-again ragged gasps for air and the gentle breeze the fluttered the curtains on the patio that Iris had made her appearance on.
"The Vikar must be in more dire straits than we thought." He stood up, hair rustling.
"Nowhere in the Vadrudorian annals that I've read indicate that child slavery was ever a tactic in the past...it makes me wonder if we haven't walked in on something much more complex than we knew." Iris' words about Arel rang through his mind.
"You mentioned rations? And unrest? If the city is a tightened bow ready for the arrow to be launched, I wonder how desperate Rakuhor is for this alliance...and if this alliance is borne out of necessity rather than actual long term political gain. I certainly wouldn't want us to sign this treaty only for the Ishmeldian regiments to get pulled out of the kingdom to quell an insurrection that we weren't warned about." Olosse had begun pacing in the middle of this semi-monologue, armed folded across his bare chest, hand cupping his chin. He paused in the center of the room.
"Then again, this could all just be a front for something much more sinister and if there's anything Father taught me, it's that the first impression of a thing is normally the farthest from the truth of a matter." The liege in waiting turned to face Iris fully.
"You said that you were spotted?" He chuckled, motioning to her.
"Well of course you were, you got into quite a scrape." He tapped his foot a couple of times, eyes looking her over.
"And yet you managed to let those in the Bludless and those helping them understand that their actions are not only being watched, but threatened, which will only accelerate their desire to make good on their plans, whatever they are." A pause.
"Which then means that tomorrow night's banquet will be a prime target for their hypothetical 'storming of the castle'." He huffed a sigh, shaking his head as he cast a glance at the patio.
"Iris, darling, I have a favor to ask of you." He motioned to the patio, index finger pointed at the cityscape beneath.
"I need you to accompany me into the city. I want to go to a specific tavern, one that I've frequented in the past when I was...well, I don't think I asked you to accompany me to said tavern, but I do know that there are many, many unsavory characters who might be willing to give us more of a 'boots on the ground' perspective so to speak." He cleared his throat, cheeks flushing. Olosse had indeed visited this tavern multiple times, without his shadowguard or anyone else knowing for...specific visits to specific individuals of the opposite gender. Along the way he had forged a few connections with those who were more than content to keep his identity a secret in exchange for generous contributions to the tavern's upkeep. As a future liege in waiting, he knew that having unsavory connections could and would pay off; it just so happened this might be one of those times.
"All I would ask is that you take two of the others with us and the three of you remain in the shadows until I signal for you to appear, if at all. Allow me to work the locals and see what information I can find out. If all goes well, we might be able to get some solid evidence I can present at tomorrow's signing and get the truth out of Rakuhor." A slight smile creased his youthful face.
"I can feel the anxiety welling up inside of you already and I assure you, this isn't a request, my dear. It's an order. I need your help now more than ever." He approached her chair, kneeling across a foot or so away.
"But feel free to give me advice before we venture out; if there's anything I'm missing, I'd love to know." Olosse stared deep into Iris'..well, irises, and found himself wondering what lay behind that mask, what features HE was missing out on viewing. It was difficult to read one's expressions when hidden behind something like the Shadowguard's uniform, but he was especially curious about his own guard more than ever.