The city of Varen, capital of Frasc, is a dirty, dangerous place to be. There aren't many guards to speak of. The majority of the king's men are sent to the front lines and the guards that remain have so little overhead that they have no problem abusing their power. The people are miserable and poor and often have no love for the king, but they don't have the means to do anything about him. He is always hiding in his castle, guarded by the greatest soldiers in the kingdom that haven't been sent to fight in a war. Not that they'd want to rise up anyway, as the most common punishment in many kingdoms is simply being drafted into a war older than anyone still fighting it.

Ironically, this also means that the people are likely to turn a blind eye to oddities going on, with the exception of petty thugs who do little more than rough up traveling merchants before pissing away their ill gotten goods at their preferred taverns and pubs. At the very least, this makes a tavern in the bad part of town a perfect place to plan an assassination.

You don't know how the others made their way to Varen; Gav specifically ordered all of you to travel alone. What you do know is that you were told to meet at the Grey Ox Inn, a small back alley tavern and inn that has a particularly poor reputation. The barkeep is in on the plot to an extent, but only so much as he knows some associates of his old drinking buddy are coming to make use of his back room.

Gav has told all of you to arrive alone. You were told to arrive, make your way to the bar and order a Black Mead, a popular drink in the western nation of Halla. You were individually given a pass phrase. Only two people know all of them: The barkeep and Gav himself. With the phrase, according to Gav, you will be given further information.

Your journey begins here. You've been chosen for this mission for a reason. You were told its because Gav believes you to be the best shot at turning the war in favor of his kingdom, but you have a feeling that something is brewing that goes far beyond one assassination plot.

Bridgit was still reeling from the events of the past week. From her ship sinking and nearly killing her, to waking up in a strange place she'd never even heard of, to getting herself caught up in an assassination plot. A drink was actually the best thing for her right now. Good thing the plan actually called for one.

The meeting place was a squat, grey stone building, another difference from back home. A tavern in Mjolgung was designed with carved and painted wood on every facet, and large windows to let light in. A place to feel welcome and celebrate. This was a place to drown one's sorrows. Unfortunately, hers knew how to swim.

Bridgit slid up to the bar and ordered the Black Mead, giving the pass phrase as well. "No, not yet," the barkeep responded. "I want to wait until everyone's here." Bridgit shrugged her shoulders and took a sip of her drink. Fair enough.

Victor Pax slowly and confidently walked his way into the office of the military police. His black cloak covered his body and he carried a full cloth bag over his shoulder. The guard at the reception desk looked up at Victor with a look of surprise. The guard stood up and without a word went to grab his superior.

The head of the guard was a large man who seemed to like heavy armor. His men said he never could be found without it. That the guard captain even slept in armor. With an confidence of a man who does not know how out of his league he was, the Captain spoke to Victor, "What are you doing here, Victor? You have a week to complete the mission. It has been two days. You receive no additional bonus for completing the task sooner, Merc!"

"I do this for fun, not for coin." Victor replied coldly. Victor throw the bag he was carrying at the feet of Captain. The bag landed with a sickly thud on the floor. Two severed heads wearing reptilian looking masks rolled out and still oozed blood. The bag looked like it still contained more. "25 gold pieces per head." Victor continued, "That was our agreed price. I have all of the members of the Hydra bandits right here. They were not as hard to find as you have lead me to believe."

The guard captain had a disgust look on his face, but smirked slightly, "Well, I can see why you chose not to wait out your full week before returning. My men will see you get your reward. In the mean time, I have a letter for you. Your eyes only. I know not what someone wants your overly... gentle touch. But they do. I don't ask questions but I suggest you take your pay and move onto this assignment quickly." The Captain handed Victor a letter and left.

--------

A few days later, Victor found himself staring up at a worn out sign that read 'Grey Ox Inn'. Victor lowered his hood as he stepped through the front door of inn. There was no need for him to hid himself here. He was still an unknown to the common man and barely a whisper of a rumor to the uncommon man. Confidently, Victor strolled up to the Bar. "Please, i would like to enjoy the black mead." Victor said to the Barkeep with the smile, "I have traveled very far and have seen many things. I saw a 'bear catch two fish with one bite this morning'." That was the passcode. Getting his drink, Victor took a seat in the corner of the room where he could watch everyone.

The first thing Gui does when she gets to a new Plane is to find a mount. On Orisfal, this was a large, ill-tempered goat, almost as big as a horse. They butt heads, quite literally, but Gui showed the larger beast who was actually the boss in their new relationship.

When she made her way to the place she way meant to meet the others in her little raiding party, she lingered on the road, with gold and jewels worn haphazardly about her throat and arms. She didn't know the people she was working with, and she wanted people she trusted, after her own fashion. She wanted a horde.

Gui let the bandits come on her, and she subdued them as non-lethally as she could. The offer after that was simple. All these shiny shinies, and more besides, for your sword arms. There were five who took the offer. Gui commanded them to slay the others. One refused, and she hacked his head off and charred it with her flaming breath.

She rode into town with four bandits, imbued with her spells of loyalty and strength, and a small herd of extra horses besides. Her miniature horde sold the spare horses, and the five of them entered the Grey Ox together. The bandits went to drinking and harassing the bar girls while Gui went to the tavern man.

"Black mead for me," she said in her high pitched rasp, "Oat beer for my goat." She gave him a guilelessly pointed look at the last part, assuming he would catch the code phrase.

Phaerun Markuv slowly strolled through the streets, his hood and cloak keeping his features cast in shadow, while the insignia of the Orzhov stood out like a bright light. He looked upon these people with pity in his eyes, and he hoped to be that bright light. Times were certainly difficult for this kingdom, on this plane, but by the time he was done they would be in a better position. People tended to have a strange turn of fortune whenever The Wandering Spirit came to town.

This time Phaerun was making a difference on a larger scale than he was used to. Regicide, political assassinations, machinations, these things were not unfamiliar to the Orzhov, but he had done his best to distance himself from such troubles since initially leaving Ravnica. That is, until he came here, to Varen. To Frasc. To Orisfal. Something about this dark, dreary place reminded him of home. Disgraced as he was, he was still Orzhov, and as such getting involved in Machiavellian political schemes was simply in his blood.

Not too long ago he had met with the local reagent, a man named Gav. Phaerun wasn't certain yet that he trusted the man, but he acted in the interest of the young princess, for the people of his kingdom, and so for now Phaerun chose to ally with the man. No doubt due to his unique abilities he was chosen to go on a mission that would, presumably, bring to justice those responsible for the king's death. A noble cause, to be sure. He arrived at the tavern late at night, when there were not many others around. Glancing around, Phaerun could see a goblin among the patrons, a large heavily scarred man, and a well-built woman with unusual eyes reminding him of storm clouds.

Phaerun approached the barkeep and, with a small amount of pain in his semi-rotten body, sat upon a stool as he addressed the man. "Please provide me with a black mead." Phaerun glanced out the window before speaking his pass phrase, a most unusual statement. "In a few hours the sun will rise."

Gav's got some strange ones this time, the barkeep mused to himself. Not that it was his problem. He was being paid quite handsomely for keeping quiet and all Gav wanted was use of the back room. Still, he couldn't help but think Gav's plot was something he wanted nothing to do with. The sooner they were gone, the better in his eyes.

In between serving his actual customers and keeping an eye on a few obnoxious drunks, he quietly retrieved a note from behind the bar. When he was sure no one was looking, he slipped a key to his back room into the folded parchment and slipped it to Bridgit. He did the same with another note and key for Phaerun. He quickly scrawled an extra bit on Gui's and had one of his server girls slip one to Victor in the corner.

"Quietly make your way through the door by the bar," the note read, "To your right will be a locked door. The key will unlock that door. Enter the room, lock the door, place the key on the table and wait. The time for action is near."

Gui's copy of the note had an extra bit scrawled on it; "Your entourage will wait here."

Victor got handed a letter from on of the inns beautiful waitresses. He opened it quickly and read the instructions. Victor left a generous tip for the waitress on the table as he got up. All this secrecy was fine with him. When you work as a resistance fighter, secrecy is better than a good suit of armor for keeping you alive. But that is all irrelevant now. Victor was familiar with all kinds of warfare, either way this gig better pay well for all the skulking he was having to do.

Victor got up from the table and left. He looked around casually to see that he was not followed and if he was, by whom. He unlocked the door to the meeting room and silently stepped inside. After relocking the door, he casually tossed the key on the table. He appeared to be the only one there. Victor leaned himself up against the wall and waited. He watched all the entrances to the room. He was not going to let himself be surprised if some enforcer burst in to try to arrest him.

With her letter in hand, Brigid walked into the back room. There wasn't much to go on, no maps or documents. Nothing to do but sit and wait for instructions.

Another human was already there, giving wary glances around the whole place. "It seems we're going to be working together on this little mission. How did they get you roped in?"

Phaerun continued to sit quietly to n his chair, taking small sips of his drink from time to time. He made the careful decision not to immediately head to the destination his note requested. No, too much foot traffic would be obvious. This required subtly and finesse. Besides, he wanted to gauge his partners-to-be before committing to the secret room.

The Faithless did not immediately head off, but instead sat quietly. Waiting. Observing. A few people went in the direction his note specified, but only two did not return: the warrior and the stormy-eyed woman. Phase run determined that they had likely also been hired for this job, but still he did not stand to make his own way there. Patient and deliberate, that was the way of the Orzhov. He continued to sit, waiting to see if any others would go first.

Victor looked over at the woman the moment she entered the room. He looked her up and down. It was clear she had power, but her body language did not suggest she was hostile. The steel sword at her side did suggest she was at least willing to fight. It was needless to say the woman was definitely well built, too. Victor looked directly into the woman's eyes and coldly replied, "Gold. They promised me gold and I was far too happy to oblige. I am Victor Pax. You may simply call me Victor. It should be a pleasure working with you. Now, Have you spent a lot of time by the ocean recently, miss? You smell of sea salt."

Oh, great. "I-I don't really know what happened. I was aboard the Red Shark as a Seaspeaker when we were attacked and I was thrown overboard. I woke up here, and answered a call on a board for mages. I had no idea that it would lead to this." Brigid shook her head, trying to clear it of bad memories. "I'm sorry, I didn't introduce myself. Brigid Grigsholm, at your service, Mr. Pax."

"Seaspeaker...? I cannot say I have heard of such an occupation." Victor replied politely. He stepped forward. He reached his metal arm out from under his black cloak and grabbed on off the chair. He pulled it out. With his flesh and blood left hand he motioned to Brigid to have a seat. He was acting a like a real gentlemen. He then spoke, "Sorry to pry, but it just sounded to me like you have not been around very long. Are you a Planeswalker? It sounds like it based on what you just said and also your attire. I have been wandering the multiverse for the better part of a decade."

"A perceptive observation, Mr. Pax."

The voice that entered the room was a commanding one. It belonged to a venerable man, walking with an expensive looking cane. He locked the door behind him, hung his cloak on a chair and pocketed the keys that were placed on the table. He sat at the opposite end of the table, and motioned for the Planeswalkers to have a seat. As he did, two of the chairs at the table pulled themselves out.

"I must admit, I am disappointed that only four of you have actually arrived. Still, it does mean that we'll have fewer variables to consider." He smiled at the pair. "But where are my manners? As you've probably already guessed, I am the one known as Gav Hall."

After several minutes of waiting and sipping his drink, Phaerun let out a small sigh and stood. It appeared that nobody else was going into the secret room, so he might as well get a move on. Leaving a considerable tip, the half-dead man stepped into the hallway, key in hand, and unlocked the door just in time to hear the voice of an older man.

"As you've probably guessed, I am the one known as Gav Hall."

Phaerun closed and locked the door behind him, then turned to face Gav. "Venerable Mister Hall, I am pleased to make your acquaintance," he said with a bow. "My name is Phaerun Markuv of the Church of Orzhova."

As the Markuv straightened up, the perceptive among them would notice flecks of blackened flesh peel from his skin and fall to the floor. If you were not used to such a thing, it could definitely cause a degree of discomfort. Or disgust. Phaerun himself paid it no mind as he pulled out a chair next to Pax and sat down, keeping his face obscured by his hood.

Victor changed his focus when the two new individuals entered the room. He did not wait to see if Brigid sat or not. He moved around the table to an empty seat and stood behind it, "Sir, Mr. Hall, my observation skill is the reason i have survived this long. Every little thing matters when it is life and death. From the twitch of the arm as one prepares to draw a weapon to where they point their eyeballs as they swing their blade."

Victor took a seat finally and continued, "I am not trying to impress, I am just so love to here me talk. It is when I stop talking, you should worry. I get quiet when i am mad. Fair warning. What is the job, Sir Hall? It better be worth missing out on a conflict on a world erupting on the other side of Innastrad from here."

Gav scoffed. "The affairs of another world do not concern me. I don't know how you skip between worlds," He said, "but I don't care. The few Planeswalkers I've worked with in my time have put native mages to shame and that's what I've called on you." Gav shared no love for Planeswalkers. He felt they were aloof and only cared about entertaining themselves. Still, selfish as they were, they were always powerful and that's what he wanted in this case.

"I'll spare you the basics. You all know what needs to be done, the devil is simply in the details." Gav chuckled. "In short, I don't really give a damn how you get the job done. After its done, you will be rewarded and then you will never set foot in Arussia again." The Planeswalkers knew how politically sensitive such an assassination would be. The most important thing for Gav is that Arussia has plausible deniability, even if the only advantage it gives is Frasc's government scrambling to find the culprits, who are likely to have skipped the Plane, let alone town.

"About two miles west of the castle, there is a sewer that will serve as your entry point. Once you find your way to the castle's dungeon, the rest is up to you." Gav pulled a rolled up map out of his cloak and laid it on the table. It was the layout of the Frascan castle. "You can probably assume that the target is in one of three places." He pointed to the throne room. "If he is here, he is likely there as one of the King's advisors. Take that as you will." He pointed to the castle's east tower. "He likely has quarters in this tower. It's traditionally where the King's advisors have roomed when they stay in the castle." Finally, he pointed to the guard barracks. "Worst case, he'll be here, planning his next move. If that's the case, he'll be surrounded by soldiers with more soldiers at the ready to rush into his defense. Again, take that as you will." He eyed the Planeswalkers. "Any questions?"

Phaerun listened intently to the men around him, picking up every enunciation of every word. He found himself particularly curious when Pax mentioned Innistrad. Innistrad? Where had he heard that name before? Wait, that Innistrad? But that was an entirely different plane! Did that mean that-

And as soon as Phaerun internally asked himself the question, the answer came from Gav. It would seem that everyone gathered here under Gav's authority was a planeswalker. How fascinating. As incredibly rare as the gift was, Phaerun had to wonder what the chances were that they would all have gathered here. Fairly astronomical, he guessed. Well, it was a great big multiverse. Chances were it'd happen to somebody eventually.

Gav went into the mission details. Gav wanted them to assassinate the man believed to be behind the monarch's death, then never come back to their kingdom. Fair enough, the temporary ruler needed to maintain plausible deniability. Phaerun knew more than his fair share on that issue. Gav went on to provide them with a map of the castle their target would be staying in, with three possible locations he could be found, and was even nice enough to give them an entry point. While Phaerun preferred not to lurk around the sewer like some dirty Golgari wurm, he had to admit that the idea had merit. Plus, with his unique abilities, scouting ahead would be a breeze.

"Just one," the Markuv began as Gav asked for questions. "Once the deed is done, where do we report for the promised reward?"

Gav clearly had no love for the planeswalkers and made the assumption that they would be flighty, detached, and only interested in their own gain. Such an assumption about Phaerun was dead wrong, but he saw no reason to change the man's mind.

So that's it. I'm a Planeswalker. The word sounded unfamiliar in Brigid's mind. Be that as it may, she had her assignment. Still, there were a few questions she needed answered, especially one in particular. "Where is the castle's water source? It must have one to support its population, and I can use it to augment my magic. Creating water from nothing takes a surprising amount of mana, even for a mage as skilled as I."

"Water won't be a problem," Gav stated, somewhat confused as to why Brigid needed to find water in a coast city. "The castle is built on the coast and the city's sewer system is fed from the ocean."

"As for your reward, I hope you understand that I will not be the one to give it to you directly. You'll still be rewarded handsomely, but my agents will find you and contact you once the dust settles," He pulled a bag out of his cloak and threw it on the table. It was clearly filled with coin. "But if you need an advance, that should do nicely."

Victor thought long and hard at the information that had been given. A clear entrance to the city was great however it bothered him. He had never made combat with this enemy. He could hear all the reports he wanted, but his instincts would not let him settle on just words. He wanted combat. The sewers would also not allow room to maneuver. If there was an obstacle down there, the savagry of brute force would have probably be a solution.

Victor rubbed his chin with his metal hand as he thought. He watched the coins be tossed carelessly on the table, but just waited to see who moved for it first. Finally he spoke, "Sir, Mr. Hall, Your information is surprisingly detailed. I can only guess how far you have spread out your spy network. You may consider me impressed. If this is your work, well it was a shame that you were born on this world. I know another world who could desperately need a spy master."

Victor waved his hand back and forth like he was pushing away thoughts but continued, "So, business, We can expect the most resistance if he is in the soldiers Barracks. Personally, that sounds like best place to attack. It would have the most audience. Sadly, it has the highest chance of failing. Small as it may be. I assume once we enter the castle proper then we will have limited time. I suggest we try to check each spot at once. This means splitting up. I can take the barracks even if the target is not there then I will at least distract the guards."