Herald

FORGOTTEN REALMS - Gambit of Scoundrels

Leon's hand brushed over his mask, a habit when he was legitimately deep in thought instead of pretending to be, as though his god might somehow provide him some insight into this group of strangers that had appeared so recently and forcefully onto the scene in the ruined city. One the one hand, any enemy of the Red Wizards was a boon to the civilized world... yet fanatical groups tended to be so damnably single minded. Easier to manipulate, until they came to a decision, then they would be undeterred no matter what you said or did.

It was a safe assumption that Breck's men must have tried to make some kind of inroad with them if they possessed this much information. Yet he doubted this was a faction that Lord Hastlon desired within the capital. "I don't suppose Lord Hastlon has placed any... special bounties for if certain problems were to be resolved?," he asked, the most polite way of asking if there was a price to be gained from serving a head up on a platter, "as long as verifiable proof of the target is obtained as well, of course."

The last part was added as he saw more than one face light up at the idea of headhunting. The less moral and less intelligent among them might just try to turn in five or ten different heads, claiming each one was this Shagarm person. As amusing as it would be to see happen, Leon was not yet ready to start sacrificing more of his fellow hirelings until he was certain of the forces they faced inside the capital.

"I assume we will still be given our own little assignments," he said, looking pointedly at the map covering the table, "but from what you describe, I also assume Lord Hastlon would see us back this city guard faction in any way that we might be possible. With it being the last gasp of legitimate government in the city, it would play well to supporters. The story of a hundred or so brave men and women, fighting against all odds to save their city from vile red wizards and shadow damned cutthroats... the bards would have a pleasant time shaping that sort of tale."

"Still, I doubt your plan is to hurl well-paid bodies at the problem until it stops being a problem...," he said, looking back up at Breck, "so at the risk of sounding rude... what's the job?"

FORGOTTEN REALMS - Gambit of Scoundrels

Leon couldn't help but let out a snort as Breck mentioned his timeline. It was a well known idiom that plans never survived the opening shots of a battle. If Breck expected this to last past the new year, everyone should get comfortable, because it meant they could be here for multiple years cleaning out the same scum over and over again. Were the city not such a symbol for the government in exile, it would have been put to the torch by now.

Ashaba's Talons, Leon thought, intrigued that the original thieves' guild survived the plagues onset and still seemed to be operating in the city. Of course, the black market would be hugely profitable... but anywhere Thayans were, was a place no one else wanted to be. Still, he liked thieves' guilds, not only would they have many tools of their trade available, they were usually the easiest to motivate and the most predictable when it came to betraying you.

The Red Wizards on the other hand... better not to meet them at all. Despite being relatively few in number, even one Red Wizard could field a company sized unit of undead and/or demons. It was their specialty to use these kinds of forces to wear down their opponents, though they were no slouch in combat either. Not as fireball-y as an evocationist, but still powerful enough to choke the life from you at 30 or so feet. They would undoubtedly have to die to a man.

And then the brave... loyal... stupid watchmen. Even if they weren't corrupt by now, how much longer did they really expect to last without outside help. Hells, half of them were probably plague ridden themselves. Still, they sounded like the most directly experienced with combat, and if that was the case, shining even a sliver of hope among their number could turn them into an effective fighting force.

He watched Breck's hand trace the lines of the swords on the crossed sword piece. Each of the pieces so far had been represented by a faction similar in function the piece chosen. Cross blades could mean another band of mercenaries, bandits, or other trouble, but it could also be used to represent something darker. An assassin's guild, perhaps? Equally useful as the thieve's guild, but with a much higher penchant for murder among their own.

Umbra: The Abyssal Connection

Roger roger

FORGOTTEN REALMS - Gambit of Scoundrels

Leon slept a relatively undisturbed sleep, waking only a few times during the night to unfamiliar sounds from unfamiliar people. Fortunately, his training had given him an excellent grasp of determining what was and was not a present threat based on the sounds that were made, or the absence of others and so he was able to roll in his bunk and return to his dreams, his magical warding circle undisturbed. In the morning, he rose and quickly wrapped the blanket around himself as he carefully smudged the runes of the circle to disarm it. He muttered a curse about the morning cold, the tent having managed to keep the worst of it at bay, but he had never really developed a love of low temperatures. He had always claimed he would rather boil to death than freeze.

Despite the foul mood, he performed his morning routine with the precision of a ritual that had been performed thousands of times now. He cleaned his armor and weapons, stretched and performed what few exercises he could in the small space before cleaning himself with a washrag and cold water, which only worsened the bite of the winter air sneaking it's way in through the tent's openings. He dressed quickly, putting on a compact, but fashionable set of middle upper class clothing before putting his armor and weapons on over it. Lastly, the golden lion mask was retrieved from it's spot within the circle and hung once more at his waist.

Even as he dressed his body, he dressed and reworked the personality he presented to everyone around him. His current persona had been working just fine, a religious swordsman with a keen eye and a bit of wit that was eager for coin yet wise enough to understand his own skin came first. Now that they were closer to the job he would have to let more of his strategic mind into his personality, while not dropping his guard on the fact that everyone around him could easily be bribed into adding their daggers to his neck in a heartbeat. Idly, he wondered what Mask had planned to gain by placing one of his agents here, but his faith reminded him that his god had plans that stretched beyond one agent's life.

Leon's breakfast was interrupted by Breck's men summoning the hirelings, and he quickly drained the warm water he had requested instead of ale and stuffed a piece of burnt toast into his mouth as he turned to walk towards the gathering. He listened as the wizard was introduced, though the name was unfamiliar to him. Hardly a surprise, since he had not been to the Chandlerscross tower and had few reasons to seek out a wizard for his own use. Still, the man must be of respectable power to hide a camp this size, even if it meant he had to be here in person to do it.

Tempting as it was to needle Breck into getting on with the briefing, Leon chose to keep silent for now, instead focusing on the wizard to see if perhaps his presence here was about more than just an introduction. Had the wizard scryed something of importance? Or perhaps he was hear to give an expert opinion on some of the tasks Breck required handling. Maskarran reports certainly suggested arcanists in the former capital, but that was little surprise. Magic was growing it seemed, the arcane weave was behind every single nook and cranny these days... as were poorly instructed wizards that were trying to twist it to their use.

Hopefully this particular wizard was an exception. It would be a literal bloody shame if their camouflage were to fail simply because the man was at a briefing instead of tending to his wards. The only way to find out it seemed... was to wait.

Umbra: The Abyssal Connection

Work pretty much came out of left field and hit me with the steel chair of responsibility, so I've been massively delayed in getting any writing done. I promise though, tomorrow evening I will have something sent over to Sporko and with luck can post it that night/next morning.

FORGOTTEN REALMS - Gambit of Scoundrels

Leon took his gold and tied it to his belt without even bothering to count it. Gold was useful, it could open doors, loosen tongues, and encourage daggers to strike where there weren't any before. It was a tool, like his sword, and he treated it as such. Making his way around the crowd, he wondered how many of them would try to slip away during the night now that they had received their up front payment. It's a shame the reward for deserters was too low to be of interest to him, some quick spell work along the most likely escape routes would net him a tiny profit he imagined.

He stopped by the two mercenaries who seemed to think themselves too good for their coin. "A word of advice from a man of faith, even if it isn't a faith of your own," he said, "always take the gold. It does no good sitting in that box. And if you spread it among the needier citizens it could buy them bread and water for another month. Or perhaps you could use it to ensure some of the loyalty of the more... shiny-things motivated among us. Or you could indulge yourself for one night. No judgement here."

Actually, he judged them quite a lot by their refusal to take the gold. There were only ever two reasons to turn down gold. Either you were so powerful that your skill with a blade or talent with magic exceeded any possible threat that could come up against you... or you were an idiot. The shadows did not long suffer idiots to live. Pride without the power to back it up was just suicidal.

Leon followed along to the series of tents set aside for the use of the mercenaries. Although normally an assigned sleeping place would never have worked for him for fear of waking up with a dagger running across his throat, the tents were small enough that his warding magic should be able to alert him of unwelcome guests. Still, if the opportunity presented itself he would have to see about quietly switching with another person. He secured his gear in the trunk in his tent, taking only his armor, weapons, mask, and a much smaller, more easily concealable bag of gold for any incidental exchanges he might need to make before sleeping tonight.

In the few hours he had before curfew, he wandered around the camp, noting the routes of access, how many ways in and our of the camp there were for a single person or as many as a dozen people, and where battle supplies like arrows and pitch were stored. The guards were well disciplined, but some innocent sounding questions and a few palms greased with coin for the purposes of buying themselves a drink later on and he developed a rough idea of the guard practices around camp. Breck ran a smooth operation, one that only talented thieves would have a chance of taking advantage of. Leon also tried to find a polite way of getting more information about their upcoming tasks, but it seemed only Breck himself knew the answer to that question, and he wasn't taking visitors. At least not the likes of Leon, anyways.

A bit disappointed that there wasn't any real trouble, Leon returned to the tent and went through his nightly routing, stripping his armor and cleaning it, caring for his longsword and shield, and speaking the secrets he had gleaned to his diety in his nightly prayers before tracing another warding circle along the inside of the tent and going to sleep.

Umbra: The Abyssal Connection

@Herald Good thoughts! The idea is that the scene is very flexible either way. I would say go with what you are inclined to, fighting and then threatening the girls. It would be interesting to see how both sides would match up anyway.

@Estylwen

Hard part is figuring out how Mercy can manifest in the building without reducing it to rubble around everyone.

@rabidbacon If you have thoughts on this(I have no idea if Mercy can turn into a smaller version or not), I can put off my post until after yours. Maybe Le Frey's Wild and Mercy can kaiju battle outside? blame Val for getting captured which has Mercy go back inside his body? Just throwing darts at a board here.

@Sporkobug Since this is technically PvP, I'll send you my post before I put it in the IC thread for your approval. The fight will be short, Val isn't inclined to get three people killed when it looks like you guys are trying to capture this group alive. Better to live a few more hours, and escape later if needed.

Umbra: The Abyssal Connection

So I can figure out the direction to go with the next post...

@estylwen I think Val's going to fight given the current situation(Wendigo-looking monster just snuck into his tent). It can be kept short, but do you think its better if the fight is ended by threatening the Umbra-gals(name only for reference testing purposes) or I dont mind losing the fight with Sporko(new binding with a wild and such).

If it is easier for everyone, Val can suppress the urge for violence, I'm just basing my current idea over the gut reaction.

Thoughts? From everyone

FORGOTTEN REALMS - Gambit of Scoundrels

Leon listened to the speech, staying near the back of the assembled hirelings and often looking around the camp to see who else might be watching the 'newcomers'. He had heard similar speeches a dozen times over the years, usually a bit cruder and consisting more of amputating body parts or being tortured as opposed to official execution. Do what the big dog said, when they said it, and to the best of your ability. Or else.

Being paid by merit had little draw for him, as long as he had access to food, water, and a protected space where he could catch some sleep, he knew Mask would provide everything else he needed. He cast a look over his fellow hirelings, idly wondering how many of them were trying to wager the odds of being caught thieving against the stashed loot of a bunch of soldiers hiding out in the woods. Fortunately, the ambush with the bandits would serve as an early reminder that few individuals could prosper out here on their own.

"Coin or glory, we're all here for our own reasons," Leon said, speaking up a bit, "and I'm sure those reasons are the same as any upstanding citizen of the Dalelands looking for an honorable way to restore the proper order... Regardless, we are here now and after the events on the road are eager to see this job get started so we can begin counting our coin or the many ways we are so proud to serve Lord Hastlon." There was a touch of sarcasm in his voice, but never more than a touch.

"Where do we bunk? And when do we get our new orders?," he asked.

Umbra: The Abyssal Connection