Black Hart

Gradsul by Twilight

Chapter 1 - Two visitors

Eloi stared at the empty stall where Bermen's horse had been stabled.
That settled it - for some unknown reason the Major had found it necessary to leave without telling him. Not that they had spent the most frivolous winter Eloi could imagine in Amarr Keep, but it had been a good one. He wagered that the Barony of Amarr had never seen carousing such as had gone on within the Doors of Drawmji. Probably because it had never seen a Baron the likes of him!
He turned to the man standing beside him.
"The gateman says he left at first light," Dariall told him.
Eloi looked at his stone-faced Castellan. He had found little to like in him when they first met, and at a stipend of two-hundred Merkke a month had almost been sent packing. Bermen, luckily, had pointed out the advantages of such a retainer, and in the months he had been here Eloi had thanked his lucky stars many times that he had not dismissed him. He took the misery out of being a noble and a landowner, administering to all tasks from gathering the taxes to drilling his guards.
And in the few moments that Eloi had felt like a bit of swordplay he had found his Castellan to be fair sport, although not quite so talented as his master! Also, when a few villagers living by the Rushmoors had gone missing, Eloi had not needed to lead the Fenmen, his best troops, into the marshes to seek out their predator. Luckily too, for it turned out to be a Basilisk, who could have turned Eloi to stone as easily as the three men who did not return!
Or as easily as Lominstrall had petrified Hamman!
As they walked inside, his thoughts turned to the others and the adventures that had led him to this point in his life.
"I suppose he had his reasons," Eloi said to Dariall. "Which is good enough for me, my man."
Eloi clapped his hands together in a gleeful motion. He would miss Bermen's company, but he would be damned if he would show it.
"Now my man - time for a good stiff drink, the first of the day!" he stated emphatically.
Dariall's dour face turned to dismay as he was led upstairs to the study. Inevitably, he thought, it would be the last thing he remembered that day!

Spring had brought mixed blessings for Eloi. His reserves of money were being depleted fast, particulary since his major tax income would not be until after the harvest, many months from now. So he was thankful, almost to the point of toasting the stunted runt, when Thoggin had sent four men to him bearing a thousand Merkke - his annual retainer for his 'services' apparently.
He was far less thankful just a week later when the next visitor came.
Eloi almost fell from his seat when Dariall told him of their visitor. He ran down to the Great Hall, where his guest had been made comfortable with a seat, a drink and some food.
"Lord Thoggin!" he said, forcing a smile to his face.
Truth be told, his sudden appearance made Eloi nervous. He couldn't imagine what brought the gnome here so soon, but he was sure it would not be good news.
Thoggin arose and thrust out a small hand to Eloi in greeting.
"Your Lordship," Thoggin said, bowing as Eloi took his hand
Eloi was worried - there was no mockery or derision in his actions, and he seemed utterly respectful of his position!
Never one to beat around the bush, Eloi took his usual approach.
"So, what is it you want, Thoggin?" he demanded.
Thoggin laughed heartily.
"Ahhh, Eloi. I have missed you somewhat. The past months have been somewhat dull, all full of peace talks and treaties. They even had me back in Greyhawk for the Great Signing - at least that was a bit of fun!"
Thoggin then went into great detail of this event, which he had just returned from. The last thing Eloi needed was a history-in-the-making lesson, but he got the general drift of the story. All the major nations in the Greyhawk Wars had met at Greyhawk to sign a peace treaty. It seemed that the Flanaess could no longer sustain the damage that they had been inflicting upon each other and all parties were ready for peace.
All parties except Rary, Archmage of Ket.
On the day of the signing, Rary, a member of the illustrious Circle of Eight, a dangerous and meddling group of wizards, had betrayed his fellows and caused a great fire in the City of Greyhawk, killing many. Among them were Otiluke and Tenser, two other members of the Circle. At the same time, Lord Robilar, an enemy of the Circle now allied with Rary had attacked and ransacked Tenser's castle, the Fortress of Unknown Depths, north of Greyhawk on the Nyr Dyv by the village of Magepoint.
"But the war to the south is heating up," he continued, guiding Eloi towards the stairs. "And it is that I wish to speak to you about. Is there somewhere less open we could talk?"

Eloi handed Thoggin a glass of brandy. He felt it was ironic that now they were sitting in his own study drinking from his supply of brandy!
Thoggin took a long sip.
"The King is committed to winning the war in the south," Thoggin declared.
He was of course referring to the ongoing battle within the Dreadwood, where, Treaty or none, there would likely never be peace. Eloi had heard tales of the dark forest, of the casualties and entire battalions that had gone amiss, never to be seen or heard of again. Dark things lurked there and he prayed that was not his destination.
"They make it seem like indigenous monster attacks, but we know better!" Thoggin said. "It is all orchestrated by the Sea Princes, with the Scarlet Brotherhood pulling their strings."
Eloi was becoming ever-more uncomfortable at the direction in which this conversation was heading.
"They send hundreds from their slave-brigades - Olmans, Hepmons and Amedians - into the forest each day, and worse! We fight them off, but the front line changes daily, with massive casualties every day too. But, as I said, the King is committed to reclaiming the Dreadwood, so we too will send hundreds to beat them back!"
Thoggin took a long drink, and Eloi's worry made him feel that Thoggin was deliberately dragging out telling him his fate in order to make him sweat.
"So you should be glad that I'm not asking you to go there, Eloi!" Thoggin said.
Eloi would have wiped the sweat from his brow, but was determined to deny the gnome the pleasure of seeing his worry. He also disliked the word 'asking'. The Lord High Mareschal knew fine well that Eloi was in no position to refuse him anything - anything at all.
"I want you to go to Gradsul, on the southern coast," he said. "Not an unpleasant task for the summer if I might say so. Our sources there believe we have identified a Scarlet Brotherhood spy there, and I would like you to head a team to investigate, and if necessary capture or terminate, this spy. Are you up to the task?"
Eloi nodded, and was about to ask some questions when Thoggin started speaking again.
"Akhan will go with you too, I have already arranged for that. You should find him in Tringlee no trouble, he is staying with Hanali Celanil at Seldar Palace. He does not know yet whom he shall be working for, just that you are in charge. The others I will send to you in Gradsul. Anyone else you need you will have. Just arrange it through my man there - go to the Golden Anchor tavern on the dockfront and he'll make contact with you by buying you a round of tarry ales."
Eloi was already looking forward to that part - he had only once before partaken of this sailor's drink, a pint of ale with a double measure of dark rum. He could remember nothing of that night, which in his books was a major success, to be repeated at any cost.
"You are my Griffin Team now, and you are its leader. The successes are on your shoulders and the failures on your head, Baron!"
Eloi went to ask questions as Thoggin stood up, but the gnome held his hand up to halt him.
"Save your questions Eloi - things may change dramatically in the weeks it will take you to get to Gradsul, so wait until you are there before discovering the lie of the situation and asking your questions. For now, drink your brandy, fetch Akhan and the best of luck in Gradsul. I think you will like it there!"
Thoggin walked over to the door.
"Thanks for the drink," he said as he walked out the door.
Eloi could see Dariall waiting on the other side, although not near enough to have been listening. He escorted Thoggin away.
Eloi went to his room, and peered into the courtyard as Thoggin rode his short pony out onto the road south. He was unaccompanied save for one armoured knight, with the red silk draped across his shoulders. He recognised this emblem from Hamman's funeral, and reckoned this must be one of the Knights of Kord, the King's new bodyguard.
After the debacle of failing the King twice the Royal Guard had been disbanded in disgrace, their Major thrown in the deepest dungeon in Dekkanisch prison. The King had apparently found religion in his experiences, for he re-enlisted the Knights of Kord, leader of the Jmarvic gods, as the royal bodyguards.
A few mintues after Thoggin had left Amarr Keep, there was a knock at the door. It was Dariall.
"Is there anything I need to do as a result of Lord Thoggin's visit?" he asked.
Dariall's ability to second-guess Eloi's need for his services was almost eerie!
Eloi was feeling relieved at the thought of adventuring again. The winter at Amarr had passed quickly, but only due to the welcome company of Bermen. If only the big ranger could travel with him now to Gradsul, he would have been a worthy companion.
Still, no use dwelling on the past, no doubt Bermen had good reason to leave without a farewell. Eloi had work to do! He  motioned to Dariall to enter the room and close the door.
"You are my most trusted servant Dariall. I must leave Amarr for a time, Lord Thoggin has requested my services in a very important task. You are the only person I can trust to look after the Barony." Eloi laughed. "In fact, I can't even trust myself to run it. Without your guidance and skill with numbers, I fear I would be bankrupt very quickly. I will provide you with the necessary papers to give you complete autonomy until I return. Take whatever decisions you need in running the estate, and do try to make a profit. The locals don't appear to realise the money involved in keeping their beloved Baron in the manner he is accustomed to!"
Eloi picked up a quill and readied a piece of paper and then suddenly remembered that he barely read, and most certainly wasn't capable of writing, except maybe his name.
"Perhaps you'd better call a meeting of the other servants. I will address them about my leaving and pronounce you in charge before I leave."
Although he respected Dariall, Eloi still did not trust him and did not want to sign or put his mark against something which might sign away all his lands.
"Better to do it this way," he thought.
For the remainder of the day he readied himself for the trip to Tringlee. During his stay in Amarr, Eloi had learned to ride a horse. He still preferred Bray as a mount, but found horses far more practical now. He gathered his few possessions and called for four of the Fenmen, his best men-at-arms, to provide an escort for him on his journey to Tringlee.
Then, he decided, best to spend one last night in Amarr before setting off at first light to Tringlee. Eloi was tense, nervous, but somewhat excited about the mission that was ahead of him. He looked forward to seeing Akhan again. He was sure that he had been up to no good over the winter and had probably dallied for some time with Fimuth's wife. The thought of Fimuth's wife distracted Eloi, after all he was going on a long and dangerous mission! Who knew how long it might be before he got some nookie! He summoned Dariall and asked him to send up his favorite serving wench from the scullery, the one with the big, sweaty busoms!
At least if it were to be some time, he could recall the last time with glee!

The figure moved slowly down the darkened alleyway, and Akhan breathed again. He did not know if it was a watchman or a late-night reveller - he did not care. All he cared for was that nobody noticed him on his latest 'venture'.
The life of a catspaw was not an easy one - not only the law after him but the thieves guilds too. The only good thing was the profit margin - no paying of dues to a fat cat who did nowt for his money but sit on his arse and drink all day!
As he moved through the streets, Akhan thought of how he had grown to like Tringlee. He had never lived so close to the mountains before, but he found the rarified air invigorating and the views simply breathtaking. As he neared the mark's house he scolded himself silently for letting his concentration wane. No point wasting a good week's preparation on a careless second's blunder!
Checking the streets, he swiftly darted over to the rear wall, and in a step apparently bounded over it! Anyone watching would not have seen the plank of wood he had carefully yet casually set there earlier that afternoon just for that purpose. Pausing for a second to get his bearings, he also found the wheelbarrow he had spotted yesterday, and quietly propped it against the wall to aid his return journey.
Not a shadow flickered out of place as he made his way through the small rear garden. As he reached the downpipe there was a noise from the street behind, and he froze, melting into the darkness as the carriage thundered along the alleyway and into the distance.
He gazed up the pipe, recalling how he almost slipped off the last one. So far he had carried out three burglaries in Tringlee - mostly rich upper-class twats who could afford the hoard of jewellery he relieved them of. But the growing pile of treasure hidden under the flagstone had been more of a burden than a boon until now. Of evidential value enough to hang him, or earn him a slit throat in the night, he had not found a trustworthy fence to buy them from him until the previous day, when he had earned a small fortune by selling them.
He reached the eaves, and there, sure enough, was what he had seen - a gap between the roof and the wall barely wide enough for him to squeeze through. He had never tried such an entry before, but was willing to give anything a go once, providing it ended in profit!
Within five mintues he was in the loft space - the place was filled with old junk and stoor, but thankfully was floored. And even better, there were a set of stairs leading downwards - much better than he had hoped for. The Eye guided him easily over the loft and down the stairs, without so much as a sound, into the hallway below.
From what he had managed to ply out of the serving girl, before she passed out from the drugged ale he was feeding her, the master's bedroom was on the right, just past the stairwell. As he opened the door, he felt sure he had it right - the room was grand, but empty. The girl had let him know that her master was away on business for the week, but Akhan felt sure that he was unlikely to take his prized gems, his 'retirement investment', with him. It should be just on the other side of the bed, built into a secret recessed panel in the wall.
He slid into the room and closed the door. His heart pounded as it clicked shut. Then he got a really bad feeling in his stomach - he had heard something!
Breathing!
Akhan crouched low, listening to the other presence in the room.
Carefully, he removed the dagger from his boot with the blade concealed behind his forearm.  No point in needless reflections.
His first reaction had been to reach out with the Eye's magic and probe the thoughts of this other.  But even though it had been a little while now since his blackout in Torrisz Keep, he was still reluctant to risk one of those mind-gouging after-effects again.  No sure way to tell if this was the breathing of someone asleep or not, though.
He scanned the room again with all the visual trickery the Eye provided.  He would be able to detect the location of this creature from its body heat alone. 
There was a click from a nearby closet, and Akhan had spun to face it as a person walked casually out of the closet doors, sword in hand. His human height and pointed ears told Akhan he was an elf.
Another noise drew a sidewards glance and he saw a further person, probably human, roll out from under the bed, a short staff in his right hand.
Behind him there was a click as the door to the room opened, and a quick look back told him there were two others, probably human, armed with swords there.
As the word 'Trap!" formed in his mind, the room was suddenly lit-up by the figure from under the bed, a globe of magical light appearing in the centre of the room. His only two ways out of the room, the door behind him and the window to his left, were blocked by the two men and the magician respectively.
The elf pointed his sword at Akhan.
"Put away your weapon, Akhan Bherrulian!" he said. "Do so and you will come to no harm!"
Blinking rapidly in the sudden light Akhan felt his hair standing on end.  He glanced upwards as the elf began to speak, hoping that he might be able to make a leap out into the rafters, but of course he had already seen the flooring in the roof space when he entered the house.
The use of his family name stopped him short though.  There weren't too many people he used his real name in front of and he couldn't remember any in Tringlee. Another point struck him forcefully too - if these were Guildsmen they were being uncharacteristically fair about it all.  No, they'd have coshed him over the head first and if he'd woken up at all it would have been back at one of their safe-houses.  He was beginning to have an ugly suspicion that he wasn't going to like what was coming next.
"These beggars knew exactly who was coming through the doors tonight," he thought bitterly. 
Flight probably wasn't a good idea then, although the temptation was very strong. 
"Kick the door shut and rush the magician at the window. Going through the window'd be risky but if the mage was light enough I could probably use him to break the panes and the fall." 
Akhan tensed, the moves required playing themself through in his mind's eye.  But it was probably too risky in the end.  The elf by the cupboard was too close by and they were ready for him.  Still, he wasn't about to just drop his blade and say sorry.
"Who are you?" he said angrily. 
Rummaging around in the elf's thoughts was a calculated risk.  He might not learn anything of use and also incur one of those splitting headaches.  But better to know if it was worth trying to make an escape now rather than tamely submitting himself to having his throat cut in a back alley.
Rather than provoke them, he made a slow gesture of turning his knife round and holding it by two fingers.  This might slow them down for a few seconds if he managed to look as if he was about to relinquish it.
As Akhan deftly spun the blade, he focused on the elf and threw the force of the Eye's power towards him.  The odds were stacked against him here and he was fairly sure he'd have to give himself up to these four, but he needed to know how desperate the situation genuinely was. He still found it strange to be inside someone's head, especially this one whose thoughts were in the Olven tongue. In a second or two, his Olven, not used frequently, was flowing straght into common and deciphering the elf's thoughts.
He felt a sense of relief, a drop in tension at the fact Akhan appeared not to be going to fight. He sensed that the elf bore him no true hostility or malice, but it was clear he would kill Akhan, or have him killed, if he did not comply with his wishes.
Akhan also gained a faint glimpse at a conversation this elf had with a man, a certain 'jeweller' whom he had dealt with only the night before, and who had been passing this elf the jewellery which Akhan had sold him. A strong feeling of chagrin was creeping over Akhan now.
Not only was he almost definitely captured, it was looking suspiciously like they knew all about his previous `successes' in the town.  It was too much to hope that it was just a coincidence that they bought those jewels from his fence. Akhan tried to grin, more to hide his nervousness that anything else, but he was sure it probably looked more sickly than pleased. 
"At least they're not intending to slit my throat for me," he thought. 
Something told him it was too late for funny business anyway.  There might be an opportunity to slip away later, but right now it was time to start lulling them with his overwhelming reasonableness. 
"Which would you prefer - my removing my sword or one of your companions here taking it?"  This sweetness act was no doubt entirely unbelievable to these four, but if they weren't too experienced they'd be sure to relax. Then would be his chance.  He just hoped they didn't bind his hands.
The elf smiled at Akhan and held both hands up, palms out, shaking his head.
"So long as it stays in its scabbard, Akhan, I have no need for another blade," he said, in a joking voice.
Akhan heard movement behind him and looking around, saw the two men leaving the room. The magician-type walked towards him, then left the room, shutting the door after him. The elf gestured towards a couch to Akhan's right, and as he sat down, wandered over and sat on the edge of the bed.
"I am Torral D'Assint," he said rather matter-of-factly. "As you may have guessed I follow the same trade as you, and I work for the Kansitt guild here in the city."
Akhan knew the Kansitt area reasonably well, being the closest thing Tringlee had to an academic quarter. It reminded him very much of his days at the University of Rel Mord, although Tringlee had nothing quite so grand as his alma mater. He knew nothing about the Kansitt thieves' guild though.
"You came to our attention for your thieving ways, and might I say your handiwork is impressive. Good planning, a thorough approach and had I not been waiting for you I doubt we would have heard any part of your escapade. Might I also say that if you were not in tow with our Duke's family and the lady Hanali, we would not be talking and you would not be breathing right now. There is only one penalty for a catspaw here, especially one who burgles the Guildmaster's brother's house!"
Akhan felt the colour drain from his face at the thought of what he had done. The elf smiled.
"But we cannot allow you to go unpunished - there is a toll to pay, and it is thus. We take a tithe from all our members amounting to one tenth of their takings from all felonious enterprises. You, my friend will pay a fifth for the first year, on top of the returning of the money Dirim gave you for the stolen jewellery, which has been returned to its owners."
"In return we take care of you, sanction your activities, get rid of your plunder and help you with any training needs you might have, in addition to the usual safehouse privileges. What say you to this, Akhan?"
Akhan very much had the feeling that he was not really being given too much of a choice. No, not much of a choice indeed.  But he was getting over his mortification at being caught now and this elf had piqued his curiosity.  Sure, the prospect of handing over a fifth of his hard-earned loot didn't appeal in the slightest, but this Guild intrigued him. For a start, their use of a magic-user was very interesting.  He'd almost thought they were agents of the Duke at first, sent to put an end to his shady dealings
Akhan had always felt that if only he'd been able to persuade someone of Mordekei's skills to get involved in a little joint business activity, there would have been some interesting capers to pull.
"Certainly wouldn't ask Mord though," he had thought after his experience with the panicky (at best) casting of that Deadly Cloud of Smoke.
There wasn't anything to be gained from snubbing this Torral, that was clear.  He'd just have to put up with the strictures of Guild membership - for now.  Rel Mord had given him a strong aversion to contact with them, and experience hadn't changed this opinion over the years.  But he'd never had much experience of them from the inside before.  And it looked like now was the time to find out.  Besides, if they had the nous to trap him, there just might be some tricks they could teach him.
Akhan smiled. 
"Since you put it in such an attractive light...  I'm in.  But I have one condition before we go any further.  You've already said that you're aware that I'm a member of the Duke's household.  I won't be involved in anything which would harm the Duke or the Lady Hanali.  Apart from that, I think I'd be more than happy to make your acquaintance Torral D'Assint."
He looked around at the room and sighed. 
"It's a real pity you caught me if this is the Guildmaster's brother's house.  No offence, I hope," he said quickly holding up his had.  "It's just the thought of missing out on a such a potentially profitable job." 
The shock of the initial confrontation had worn off completely now and he was starting to feel thirsty.
"Er, I don't know what you had in mind now.  But why don't I buy you a drink.  I guess someone who can outsmart me like that deserves a drink."

Very predictably, Akhan remembered very little, the merest hazy details from the rest of the night. All that he recalled was that he had enjoyed himself immensely.
Torral had taken him to a nearby pub, a safehouse too from all the signs - the Laughing Dragon. There he had met many of the city's major lowlifes - as the stories unfolded, he became aware that Torral was not introducing him to the minor players here. And it was altogether much preferable to that glancing premonition he had had of himself on all fours in that room with his head split open. He was still unable to open his eye, but knew exactly where he was - that same spinning room he so often awakened in after such a tremendous night, one that he would never have ever seen before! He was lying on a hard wooden floor by the feel of things, and as he started to get up he heard it creaking - there was someone in the room along with him. He froze instantly.
"Looks like the goshawk had his feathers clipped somewhat!" a rye voice lilted, obviously amused by his plight.
"Rkaff..." Akhan said , choking on the dryness of his mouth.
He knew the voice, and relaxed, almost too much as he nearly collapsed to the ground again. His normal eye was useless, so he precariously balanced on three limbs whilst he flipped up his eyepatch. He sucked some spittal into his incredibly dry mouth, and tried again.
"Raven!" he said, somewhat hoarsely.
Raven walked over to Akhan and offered him a hand - the thief gratefully accepted and pulled himself to his feet, where everything seemed much better, almost to the point where the room stopped spinning.
"I have just the thing for you, Akhy!" he said, pulling out a hip flask from his belt pouch.

Akhan undoubtedly felt much better - and totally wasted - at Raven's sharp cinnamon-flavoured liqueur. He was by now very glad that Raven seemed intent to do most of the talking, although he was mostly talking about Akhan.
"So you see I have been keeping an eye on you from afar. Things go poorly in the Shield Lands, and I must return there very soon, but first I had to speak to you. You will have a visitor soon, an old friend is on his way to see you."
Akhan opened his good eye quizzically.
"Baron Eloi," Raven said as if in explanation. "He has a little task he wishes you to assist him with, to the south in Gradsul. It would be very convenient for our ends if you accompanied him on his task, reporting back to me at a later date. I know you have been 'out of service' for a good while, out of my service anyway, but I hope you would continue to work for us, towards the 'greater good' of course. What say you?"
At the mention of Eloi, Akhan burst out laughing, then immediately stopped with a pained look on his face.
"Nnnnffhh," he said, gripping his head and grimacing.  The pain ebbed gradually and he continued more carefully. 
"What on Oerth would interest you about Eloi Brandt?  The last I knew he was off to milk the poor benighted peasants in that Barony the King gave him."
But the initial hangover trauma and alcohol hit from Raven's flask were beginning to reach a more agreeable balance now.  Akhan peered more shrewdly at his shady friend. 
"But now that I think about it, I imagine you probably know more about Eloi than I do.  Hmph."  Akhan sat for a few seconds, thinking about Raven's offer.  It seemed a pity to up sticks and swan off with the Magic Underpants just when things were getting interesting in Tringlee.  But then again, it might be wiser - there was no telling how long it would be before he upset someone in the Kansitt.  And he was perfectly sure it was only a matter of time.
Akhan looked suspiciously at Raven. 
"Remind me why I work for you again.  I'm sure it's against my principles..." 
But before Raven could open his mouth he said, "No, on second thoughts don't answer that. It's probably far too depressingly honest. Fine, I'll do it.  There's bound to be some opportunity for a bit of harmless amusement.  Anything in particular you want me to keep an eye on?  Or is this just some general all-purpose mission of sneakiness."
"Our interest is not so much in the Baron as in his task, and what will be uncovered. Keep your senses keen, Akhan, and hopefully when next we meet you will be feeling somewhat better."
Akhan suddenly wondered what time of day it was. 
"Say, you don't mind if we wrap this interview up soon do you?  Only there's probably a large war dog chewing on the armbone of some kitchen skivvy right now in lieu of breakfast..."
Raven smiled and nodded.
With that he left, and after the door boomed Akhan slumped, enjoying the still silence and the coolness of the room. Within a few seconds he was fast asleep...

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