Nights of Steel and Fire (D&D)

[Rogue 9]

Gaheris was already quite done. He briefly considered lecturing Malkamar about the fact that he hadn't been lecturing, but let that thought go with a slight upward turn of the corner of his mouth before turning to leave the building. He'd let Torma and Astinius hash this out, along with anyone who decided to object to being awoken so early after being out patrolling the alleys so late.

He stepped out of the monastery and into the slight mist coming off the Dragonmere that covered the courtyard. The normal inhabitants of the city would just be starting to stir. He wished he could say that the Night Masks would be slinking into the shadows, but they never stopped. Not anymore.

He approached Dreslin as he finished turning over duties to the captain of the morning watch. "Good morning, captain," he said cheerily. "Anything unusual happen during the night, either here or with the monks?" Mist swirled at the base of his cloak as he passed, but it would burn off soon enough when the sun fully rose.

[Cynical Cat]

"Nothing," Dreslin replied, "but they need to swing mighty big hammer to have a chance of cracking this nut."

[Rogue 9]

"Nuts can be picked apart as well as smashed with hammers. They have to try eventually; I wouldn't get too complacent," Gaheris said, knowing that Dreslin would probably just think him paranoid. "I won't keep you; I'm sure you need your sleep." He turned and strode towards the temple, nodding at men who snapped to attention, though most didn't; he'd long ago made it clear that he didn't want dominion.

Entering the temple, he joined the few priests awake at this hour and the paladins on the morning watch at the altar, his dark cloak and chain shirt looking out of place among the plate mail and priestly robes around him as he knelt before the representation of the Scales of Justice and praying for Tyr's blessings for the day ahead.

[Comrade Tortoise]

Astinius simply nodded at Malkamars own self-important lecture, and slipped into a side hallway. He was going to get a light breakfast before heading to the market. He mused over what he needed for the day. He needed to sell off those daggers, he needed to obtain spell components for a Legend Lore spell he would cast, mystra willing, tomorrow, he needed an alchemists kit so he could identify the daggers without spending time alone in a public lab, and he needed a few other spell components as well.

[LadyTevar]

Torma followed the smell of food, baking bread and hot porridge on the pot, which was the way that Astinius was going, but she let the mage alone for now. "I'm sorry Malkamar... I really thought that spell was set just for him to hear...."

[Rogue 9]

Gaheris rose from the altar and looked around. Most of the men who'd been here when he came in were either gone or just getting up to leave, but there were new acolytes and priests taking their places; morning prayers would go on for the next hour. As he turned, he nearly ran into the armored form of Justiciar Krelben.

"Justiciar, your pardon," he said evenly, gracefully stepping to the right to go around him.

[Cynical Cat]

"I heard you had trouble," said the Justicar. "Ambushed by men with knives. So much for secrecy."

[Rogue 9]

"We still have our secrets, Justiciar Krelben. Against a network as extensive as the Night Masks' it is impossible to completely evade them all the time, especially so close to the Abbey," he responded, nonchalantly leaning against a nearby pillar. "You can ask any of the monks about that, and they'll all tell you the same thing. We wanted them to come for us, though I must admit we didn't anticipate it so soon after leaving the gates." There were a great many things that the Justiciar didn't know, and Gaheris intended to keep it that way. The man was determined to treat this as a purely criminal matter and the Night Masks as petty thieves and assassins, completely ignorant of the Abbot's suspicions concerning the nature of the Faceless. Gaheris wasn't about to start letting him call shots on how to operate in the streets against the Masks.

[Cynical Cat]

"You may think your clever Gaheris, but your not. You think your games with bolt houses and fake mustaches gets you somewhere useful, but it doesn't. They weren't even Night Masks and they could track you easily. They're after you, or your friends, and can operate under the Night Mask's noses. Whoever these cultists from Elturel are, they are dangerous."

[Rogue 9]

"You may think your clever Gaheris, but your not. You think your games with bolt houses and fake mustaches gets you somewhere useful, but it doesn't. They weren't even Night Masks and they could track you easily. They're after you, or your friends, and can operate under the Night Mask's noses. Whoever these cultists from Eltabbar are, they are dangerous."

"Elturel?" Gaheris raised an eyebrow. "Well, at least I know why they moved here. Were I a cultist, I wouldn't want to operate under Lord Dhelt's watchful eye either. Though I'm not sure competing with the Masks will be much healthier for them." He was well used to Krelben's jabs about safehouses and hiding in shadows, but he was secure knowing that his men had brought in more Masks than Krelben's guards could ever hope to even lay eyes on. But if cultists from Elturel were interested in him specifically, then something strange was going on besides the usual intrigues.

[Cynical Cat]

"You're a fool Gaheris. They haven't moved here, they're after something here. You and the Abbot think I'm blind. I'm not. Your being allowed to cull the Night Masks. Your not the only one enjoying success in that area. Too much. You think you can compete against an army of informants with a few false identities that you spend a few hours a week maintaining, at best? The Night Masks won't be stopped with knives in the dark. They're better at it. The heart needs to be cut out and put to the torch. Then the chaff can be handled."

[Rogue 9]

"If you can get at that heart and are strong enough to cut it out, then you are welcome to it," said Gaheris smoothly, well aware that everyone else in the sanctuary was paying attention by now, even if they were pretending not to. "I'm curious. How do you know so much about these cultists, and how is what they're after related to me or my men?"

[Cynical Cat]

"I bothered to talk to Dulchas, who gave me the answers you got from the corpse. And look at their possessons. The rest involved using my brain."

[Rogue 9]

"So you were up during the night cross-referencing the answers," Gaheris said in a slightly bored tone. "We had planned on doing that today, rather than spend ourselves and the library's lamp oil last night, but thank you for narrowing it down." Something wasn't adding up here. It irked him to let the justiciar abuse him in this way, but the man's ego was the best way to get what he knew out of him. Certainly the names could have led Krelben to Elturel, as Gaheris was sure it would have done for him, but why would he be so intensely interested? Was all this just for the satisfaction of trying to show up his fellow paladin?

[Cynical Cat]

"When evil occurs, I deal with it. I leave the game playing and the hand ringing to you and the abbot. I'm a soldier. I fight wars. And wars don't wait." He held up a gold coin and flipped it around. On one side was symbol with nine wavy lines projecting from a common point. On the other was an obelisk. "Your friends are a dragon, a mage, and a swordsmen. They undoubtedly have other secrets. The cultists were able to find them and send people all the way here. Whatever they're after it has to be big. When they come at you again, they'll come hard."

[Rogue 9]

"We all have our secrets, Justiciar. No one in this abbey is without them, though some are better hidden than others," he said pointedly. "What is not a secret is that no one can deal with all evil, all the time. You would do well to not slip into such hubris.

"As for soldiering, glorious armies and grand councils may defeat the thralls of the Black Lord on the battlefield, but Mask's followers are never the sort to come out and fight. Someone has to be able to go find them where they hide, and to be blunt, Krelben, that isn't you. I appreciate your concern, but I've spent most of my life dependent on my ability to survive the streets of this city. I assure you, it is not a game, and wasting time on hand-wringing is a sure way to die."

[Cynical Cat]

"The Baneson and the Night King were beaten by men with swords, not knives in the streets. The only thing you're going to accomplish is getting men killed. Until the abbot admits that playing by the rules this whole rotten edifice won't work, until we really fight, all your doing is getting good men killed to chase the enemies chaff. This city is too far gone for the half measures and pussfooting around you and the abbot are inclined to do. I will follow orders, because I am a good soldier, and muck out this stable of a city but I won't send men to die because you have the arrogance to believe you can beat the Night Masks at their own game with you pathetic little tricks."

[Rogue 9]

Gaheris had had enough. "You would do well to remember my title, Justiciar," he said coldly. "You are free to disagree with my methods, but my tolerance for insolence only goes so far. Now if you will excuse me, I have business to attend to." He brushed past the justiciar and walked towards the temple doors.

[Cynical Cat]

"That you think your title lends weight to your foolishness impresses me not at all," replied the justicar.

[Rogue 9]

Gaheris rolled his eyes as he emerged from the grand temple doors. Krelben could never strike what he did not see, and say what he might about the Vara'Dome, it would not be he that found the vampire's lair. The paladin strode briskly towards the mess hall attached to the barracks, where breakfast was still being served.

[LadyTevar]

It would have made an adorable picture for a children's storybook: the bright copper dragon and the tiny orange kitten licking porridge from the same large bowl. The monks in the dining hall were studiously ignoring the scene lest the cuteness overcome their disclipline and make them all go 'awwwwwwwwwwwww'.

Until the dragon took a large chunk out of the side of smoked bacon she'd requested, and delicately pick a peice off for the kitten.

"Hello Gar!"

[Rogue 9]

He gave a thin smile. "Good morning, Torma," he responded as he strode towards the food line. Given a choice, he'd rather have had last night's leftovers, but he wasn't about to disturb the cooks by going back to the larder to retrieve some. He piled some scrambled eggs into a wooden bowl and moved to the trestle table his companions were sitting at.

"I just had a little run in with everyone's favorite Justiciar," he told them with a half-smile. "Gave me the usual rubbish about cutting out the heart of a guild we haven't even found, and never will if he has his way, but then he told me that he got the answers from Dulchas and found out where our cultists are from last night. Someone from Elturel is after something here and believes that we are in the way. He knew a lot of details and wouldn't tell me how he got them, so I suppose we're going to have to retrace his research to get much use out of it."

[LadyTevar]

"Oh, is that all.." Torma said, truthfully having no clue who these cultists were. "At least it's not about the streets overrun by hobgoblins and blue-fire burning everywhere."

(Edit to reflect the correct dream)

[Comrade Tortoise]

"What a wonderful individual he is..." the mage trailed off. In truth, he prefered the combination approach. FInding the enemy and then burning them in Mystras fire.

"Well when I leave the abby, I will go to the library in addition to the market. I will get components for various spells, including Legend Lore if I dont find the information in the library. I really dont want to cast that spell, it could take days..."

[Rogue 9]

Gaheris gave Torma an odd look. Had she had the same dream? He shook it off and turned to Astinius.

"We shouldn't have to. The records he found them on have to be here in the Abbey; he couldn't have gone through the record houses anywhere else. After all, he'd never break in, and they weren't open," Gaheris pointed out with a grin. "We'll go to market and then come back here. Hopefully one of the monks was also in there and remembers what he looked at."