Cloaked

[Gwenne]

(Out of character :- This is a roleplay story currently in progress on our guild forums. As an experiment we thought we’d try also posting the story here as it develops. The story and planning will be further ahead on our own forums, so anyone wishing to take part please do not post here but message me here for more information. Then we can get your character involved without the continuity going up in smoke.

Posts on the 'Cloaked' thread are reposted here by permission of the original writers who of course retain all ownership, copyright, and blame for their own writing, characters, and spelling mistakes.)

VINDICAI – Secretive drow

The hidden door in an alley near Stormreach market opened, and a cloaked figure slipped silently out and moved away at a carefully casual walk to merge with the crowd of shoppers near the market. The cloak had a voluminous hood, totally hiding the face, but none of the passing people gave a glance of curiosity. It was raining heavily, and everyone was trying to shelter from the cold wet drops.

Beneath his hood, Vindicai’s face twisted in its usual mocking grin. He liked the rain. It was a good time to do business anonymously, he had a lot to do, and it might be more difficult than he had expected. It had been over two years since his last visit, and things had changed. Oh Stormreach was still the old Stormreach, city of a thousand sewers, each more infested with vermin than the last, but some things had inconveniently changed. The quick foot hideout had been raided. There were still thieves there. All cities had their undesirable elements, they cleared them out, and more seemed to spring up again overnight to replace them. The noble and righteous types kept trying, but they had as much chance of making this city crime and vermin free as they did of turning back the tide in Stormreach harbour. Vindicai preferred to use his time more profitably.

So there were still thieves in the quickfoot hideout, but he was a year too late to find the one he wanted. The question was what to do next. He had other contacts, but naturally they were not exactly trustworthy people. What he needed would betray a weakness, and betraying weakness was a bad mistake. You only did it with a do gooder, where you could use your weakness as a weapon.

Vindicai grinned. Do gooders. Now that reminded him of someone. He turned on his heel and headed out of the marketplace to call in at the Rusty Nail. A drink and a few questions later, and he was on his way again. It was still raining, but the rain was lighter by the time he had walked through the harbour and out of the city gates. It had stopped entirely by the time he had followed the road as far as the wayside tavern, but he still kept the hood up and covering his face. He looked the place over to get as much information as possible before entering. It was a large rambling building, with a garden and outbuildings, and had clearly been repaired since the last time he saw it.

Satisfied with his inspection, Vindicai walked lightly up the steps, opened the door and entered. He stood for a moment looking round. There were a few drinkers deep in conversation at the tables. The bar tender was a stranger. There was a familiar warforged standing in the corner, his eyes looking across at the cloaked arrival. Guilin was still on his guard duty then, and considering him a suspicious character with his heavy cloak. Vindicai grinned in the shelter of his hood. Guilin would be even more wary when he saw who was under the cloak. Now where was…

His question was answered, when the door to the kitchen opened and a white haired drow came out and went across to the bar. Yes, there he was, Arann Thule. Things might have changed in the last two years but Arann stuck with the Willow Tavern.

Vindicai sauntered across to the bar, took a seat on a stool facing Arann, and pulled down the hood of his cloak. “Ah, my old friend, Arann Fule.” He paused for a second after his usual mocking alteration of Arann’s surname. Arann had never risen to the bait on that yet, but it was nice to keep the old traditions going. “I happened to be passing and thought I would call in for a drink.” He grinned his characteristic twisted and mocking grin.

[Gwenne]

ARANN THULE – Drow owner of the Willow Tavern

Arann paused a moment in response to Vindicai's comment then sighed. "I had thought by now your dealings would have caught up with you." He noticed a scar on Vindicai's cheek that had not been there the last time he had seen him. "Looks like they came close however."

Arann examined Vindicai. It had been about two years since he had last seen him, a dodgy contact with fingers in several pies so to speak. They had worked together in the past and Arann judged Vindicai to be competent if conceited and manipulative. Either way Arann doubted that this was just a social visit and wasn’t about to give Vindicai any ammunition for his verbal sparring.
"So why have you come to darken my doorstep?"

[Gwenne]

VINDICAI – Secretive drow

Vindicai grinned. “Like I said. Just calling in for a tankard of ale.” He pointedly laid a few coins on the bar top. “Payment in advance, just in case you don’t trust me for some strange reason.”

Arann picked up the coins, examined them, tapped them together suspiciously and then finally appeared to decide they were genuine. He started filling a tankard of ale.

“I heard you and the delectable Kalista were married these days, and had bought this place.” Vindicai gestured around him at the Tavern. “I also heard your step daughter was living here. So…” He took the tankard Arann handed him and tried a sip. The ale was as cold and as good as he remembered. He continued speaking in a carefully casual voice. “How is my little Imirie? She takes after me rather than Kalista, since she has dark hair not red.”

[Gwenne]

ARANN THULE – Drow owner of the Willow Tavern

Arann's grin froze and his gaze hardened. He shouldn’t be surprised. It had always been Vind's style to twist and probe to try to get a reaction or learn something. Even so this was going over the line of sparring, it was not possible that Vindicai could be Imirie's father, someone would have mentioned or noticed something those previous times he had visited. But Arann wasn’t going to let Vindicai gloat and milk the situation; he turned to the corner and called out to the warforged that watched with unblinking green eyes. "I think our guest has outstayed his welcome, would you be so kind as to assist him away from here."

[Gwenne]

GUILIN - Warforged guardian of the Willow Tavern

Being over six and a half feet tall, and weighing over 300 pounds, the tavern guardian was an imposing figure. Sometimes his mere presence looming nearby dissuaded troublemakers, but when called for he was more then capable of dealing with more forceful situations.

A few long strides brought him to the bar where he towered over them, then with little effort he took a large handful of Vindicai's cloak and lifted him off his feet with one hand.

"It will be done" He paused and his eyes gleamed. "I think Salvader could use a little exercise to stop him getting rusty." With these words he turned and strode purposefully out the main door, at the steps he span and let go, allowing his momentum to throw Vindicai into the dirt several yards away. He then stood motionless watching as the evicted drow stood up and dusted himself off before laughing.

Guilin concentrated and instantly heard the grate of metal and patter of feet as Salvader emerged from his resting place and ran to meet him. The large metallic dog approached and growled menacingly before stalking forward. "I think you had best be leaving now, Salvader will keep you company for a while."

[Gwenne]

VINDICAI – Secretive drow

Vindicai landed painfully in the dirt, but he picked himself up, laughing. It had been obvious in advance that he risked being thrown out or much worse by what he had provokingly said, but it was worth a few bruises to crack Arann Thule’s control at last. He had been trying to wind up Arann for years, and this was the first time he had really achieved it.

What he had suggested wasn’t true of course. It would have been quite a coincidence for him to have met Kalista years ago, and even if he had then nothing would have happened. The red haired, half elven, half drow Kalista was beautiful, but Vindicai preferred to pay professionals for his pleasures, rather than risk emotional complications with amateurs. Not only that, but if his calculations on age were correct then Kalista would have been very young back then, still almost a child herself. Vindicai didn’t hide the fact that he was very much a sinner rather than a saint, but he had his standards and would never touch a woman who was not fully adult.

It wasn’t true, but he had known about Kalista losing her memory, so when he had heard the story in the Rusty Nail about Kalista’s little dark haired daughter showing up… Well, how could he resist such a glorious opportunity to wind up Arann.

Vindicai grinned as he wondered how Arann was coping with being married, let alone with the unexpected addition of a little step daughter. It must have been a shock to Kalista too. She had never exactly appeared the maternal type. It would be amusing to see how she reacted. Was she going to swap her expensive clinging dresses for respectability and an apron?

He laughed again, but then broke off as he saw the metallic dog approach him. You can play mind games with people, but dogs are an entirely different matter. He had been planning to leave at a dignified walk, but the new arrival made him speed his pace. Vindicai headed down the road at nearly a run.

[Gwenne]

KALISTA THULE - Drow owner of the Willow Tavern

Kalista strolled elegantly down the stairs, and flashed a glance into the mirror on the wall to check her red hair was still perfectly in place. She turned towards the door just in time to see the huge warforged, Guilin, dust off his hands and firmly close the door. Kalista raised an eyebrow and walked gracefully over to the bar. She grinned at Arann. “Guilin throwing a trouble maker out?”

[Gwenne]

ARANN THULE – Drow owner of the Willow Tavern

Arann looked up to see Kalista approaching, she was looking radiant and he couldn’t help but smile when he saw her.

"It was Vindicai, I think he just came here to stir trouble, but I’m not having him make up stories like that, there is no way he could be Imirie's father... is there?"

[Gwenne]

KALISTA THULE - Drow owner of the Willow Tavern

Kalista had a moment of panic, and then got herself firmly under control. It couldn’t be true. Yes, she had lost her memory four years ago, which meant she didn’t remember Imirie’s father since he had vanished before Imirie was born. Still, she might not remember, but her sister Kallii certainly did. If Imirie’s father had been Vindicai, then Kallii would have told them. Well, maybe Kallii wouldn’t have told Arann. Given everyone had been a little unsure how Arann would cope with a step daughter moving in, Kallii might well have hesitated to add to the problems by telling him the child was Vindicai’s. No, Kallii might not have lit a power keg by telling Arann, but she would certainly have warned Kalista.

“I know I lost my memory so I don’t remember,” she said, lightly. “But even if I was very young and naïve back then, my taste could never have been bad enough to get involved with Vindicai.”

She was relaxed again now, but she made a mental note to talk to Kallii that evening. It was only a few weeks since Kalista had learned that Imirie was not just another young foster sister at the orphanage where she had been raised, but was actually her daughter. Given the family history, and her own loss of memory, she could understand why her foster parents and her sisters hadn’t told her before, but it had been a huge shock. Since then, she had been busy adjusting to the fact she had a child, and hadn’t got as far as thinking about the child’s father. It was unlikely he would show up after all this time. If he did then she certainly had no interest in him after the way he had acted, but it would be a very good idea to know enough about him to tell if someone claiming to be Imirie’s father was genuine or not.

[Gwenne]

VINDICAI – Secretive drow

After a few more enquiries back in Stormreach, Vindicai found a room at a high class tavern in House Phiarlan to spend the night. He didn’t mind discomfort, and he would suffer dirt if necessary, but he was naturally fastidious and liked a good tavern with clean sheets when possible. Of course, good taverns didn’t always like him, but fortunately no-one at this one knew him.

He ate a good meal, and drank two tankards of ale, since he had only managed a sip from the one at the Willow Tavern before he was tossed into the road by Guilin. It had been worth it. He grinned at the memory of Arann’s face as he went upstairs to bed. It had been worth it. Oh yes, more than worth it. He always enjoyed verbal sparring with Arann, and that had been a once in a lifetime chance to get through Arann’s defences. After checking both the door and window of his room were securely bolted, he slept as usual with a dagger close at hand. Amazingly enough, some people really weren’t fond of him, so it was best to take precautions.

It was a short night, for he was up before dawn, and lurking discretely near a fine merchant house. It had elegant gardens, and convenient bushes to hide him as he moved closer to the servants’ entrance. He waited there patiently until it opened and a figure in fine servants livery came out, a basket in his hand. Vindicai stepped out to stop him, and the man’s jaw dropped in shock. “You,” he gasped.

“Me. Back again like a bad penny,” Vindicai grinned, and jangled a heavy purse of gold in the palm of his hand. “Fancy some money?”

The man looked round desperately. “I can’t.”

“Just give me a little information, maybe be helpful and deliver a letter. You know you want to really.”

The man looked greedily at the gold but didn’t take it. “I can’t,” he repeated. “They’d kill me. Worse.” He suddenly turned to look behind him, as if startled by a noise, and then ran off still clutching his basket.

Vindicai frowned. He had heard something himself, an odd sound like… Oh no, not them! He hesitated, overcame his screaming instinct to run, and moved to listen at the door. There was no doubt about it. He moved away rapidly, heading towards Stormreach market and the safety of the crowd. Once there, he paused in thought, softly muttering a word that came from the sewers. So, the neighbourhood had definitely changed for the worse. Not only was it a very bad sign, but it was going to be difficult to achieve anything with them around. He hated those things.