Black Claws Mercantile Company RP

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Tsidkenu
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Black Claws Mercantile Company RP

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Black Claws Mercantile Company
Whisperings around the Bazaar in Sshamath are making mention of a prominent drow female who seems to be intent in establishing a new branch of the Black Claws Mercantile Company in the City of Dark Weavings.

Further enquiries about the Black Claw Mercantile Company would reveal that it originated in Menzoberranzan from Qu'ellar Baenre and eventually formed a strong trade tie with Qu'ellar Melarn of Ched Nasad. Exactly what the Black Claws are hoping to acquire from the City of Dark Weavings remains yet uncertain, but their activities thus far seems to be harmless enough.


OOC - Not a guild and therefore no longer recruiting.
Last edited by Tsidkenu on Sat Jun 03, 2017 11:49 pm, edited 7 times in total.
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Re: Black Claws Mercantile Company

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"Ah, the City of Dark Weavings. . ." the drowess thought to herself as she stepped off the caravan in Varalla's Passage. She knew her tenure here would be an intolerable one. "The city where male wizards rule and slaves capable of magic are given their freedom," her mind scoffed as she made her way down the impressive Z'orr'Bauth spire connecting the city proper with the passageways above.

"Stick to the plan," she again said within herself as she made her way directly to the Gloura's Wings to find a temporary residence. "Zarra will be here shortly."
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Re: Black Claws Mercantile Company

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"Ugh!" she groaned annoyedly in her private room in the Gloura's Wings. "The irreverence of the males here is despicable!" The Lolthite bit her lip until she could taste the blood upon her teeth.

"Reverence must be paid to the wizards however, Zarra," she said to her lithe jalil assistant. "Until we find their graces we will not be able to establish ourselves properly here." She paused to consider her next course of action, staring intently at the other drowess.

"In the meantime we will start scouting for suitable recruits. Now get my bath ready."
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Re: Black Claws Mercantile Company

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"Today my first door into the Magethere has been opened," Schezalle thought to herself as she made her way from the Dark Weavings Bazaar to her lodgings. "The illusionist has requested a difficult task, though. Surface knowledge is the most difficult to acquire, but this must be done for us to move forward. Now, where is Zarra?"
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Re: Black Claws Mercantile Company

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"A most entertaining start to this cycle," the sultry drow murmured to Zarra as she soaked in a saline and fragrant bath and had her neck massaged by her assistant.

"One of the faerns attempted to teleport out of the Gloura's Wings immediately in my presence. It was rather amusing watching his body explode upon the protective magic of the Mythal. More disappointing was the fact that this vith," she stresses, her curse expressed through tightly clenched teeth, "then had the audacity to scorn Lolth's favourable embrace towards him. I shall leave his corpse for the driders next time."
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Re: Black Claws Mercantile Company

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"How very useful," the drow jabress thought to herself in her private quarters. "The Black Claws in Sshamath have now acquired our first indentured guard. That orc had no problem ripping the heads off those paltry goblins. He has sworn an oath of service before Lolth, and he will die by her hands if he dares to betray us. Yes, this is moving along very nicely."
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Re: Black Claws Mercantile Company

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"The houseless jaluk may prove useful to us," Schezalle said to her assistant, Zarra, while soaking in a fragrant bath, perfumed with a sprinkling of rose and jasmine oils. "However, he will need to be watched carefully. I suspect he is not at all whom he claims to be, so we will tread cautiously before giving him a taste of our employ."

"Oh, and I expect to receive something from our suppliers in Ched Nasad within the next few cycles. Do make sure it is received, Zarra."
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Re: Black Claws Mercantile Company

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A frustrated, although muffled, scream emanated from behind Schezalle's closed door, followed by a tirade of cursing and drow profanity. She slammed her clenched fist upon the table, causing a plate of food and an empty glass to bounce up and smash onto the floor.

"The snide witch! Oooh, if it were Ched Nasad you would already have had your blood spilled to the glorious Quarval-Sharess. You are smarter than I expected for one so pathetic and weak," she snarled, pacing about her room as she plotted her next course of action.

"Rats trapped in a cage," she hissed once more. She stopped and gave Zarra a stare. "How ironic that our fate here now rests in the hands of a pitiful faern, and a heretic no less. She knows where she stands in her own school, and that she is untouchable as long as she remains within the city's confines. No wonder the Dev'lins slew her, and rightly so. Og'elend! Why did you not remain dead!"

Her face was contorted with anger, her teeth clenched and her stare implacable. Her gaze returned to Zarra.

"We will give her what she wants," she scowled, frustration etched across her features. "And should she dare to renege on our agreement. . . now clean up this mess!"
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Re: Black Claws Mercantile Company

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Earlier in the day the Gloura's Wings buzzed with tense activity as four drow and a brown-masked humanoid engaged in a variety of interactions. At the bar stood a male drow wearing dark clothing and a hood. Not far from him at a table sat a drow female who was having an intense discussion with the brown-hooded female. Another female, matronly, commanding, entered the establishment and cast her eyes about the place. After observing the two females in the corner for a time she approached the bar. It was not long afterwards that another male drow came inside as well.

Shez looked at the gloura behind the bar and walked over, ordering a glass of Berduskan Dark wine. In the corner the two females discussed something quietly. Shez turned her gaze towards the familiar male seated at the bar, removing her hood while doing so. The male offered an exaggerated smile in return.

"Am I to suppose this encounter is mere chance?" Schezalle asked him. The other male who had entered behind her suddenly moved over towards the two females and rested his palms upon the pommels of his two sheathed daggers. He stared blankly at the covered female, wary or irritated by something.

"Malla Jalil... Chance? Hmm, unless you sought me out," the familiar male replied to Schezalle.

"Oh that is a shame, truely," she answered dryly, but she does not elaborate any further, sipping at her wine, turning her gaze to its deep red hue.

He chuckled softly to himself at those words and said, "A lot I am destined carry it seems, shame."

In the corner, the unhooded drow female expressed a wide grin on her face, her canine teeth showing as she stared at the masked female, who responded by lowering her head.

"A shame for the Black Claws," Schezalle answers the familiar male. Her eyes remained fixated upon her glass. The two females at the corner table then continued their hushed conversation. "But no matter. Perhaps this malla jalil shall have to find a more enthusiastic jaluk," she said, hinting at a conversation on an earlier occasion.

The brown masked female suddenly looked like a someone who had to give in to something; bend, without being broken. There was a tension still about her posture.

Shez turned and looked towards the other male who was intently watching the brown-masked female. "Sion, come over here would you, hmm?"

Sion removed his hands from the daggers, giving a last stare to the masked female and then moved over beside Schezalle.

The familiar male grinned at Schezalle's earlier question.
"Tell me then, The Black Claws, what would they..." he said, pausing as Sion moved over.

"Go on," she said to him as Sion approached. "Oh, don't mind him," she added with a smirk.

"What would they offer to one such as me, hmm?" the familiar male asked. The other male, Sion, kept his eyes fixed to his right at the table where the two females were seated.

"Opportunity, first of all," she answered the male before turning her lips to her glass of wine.

All of a sudden the two females seated in the corner stand, the masked one standing a good head over the other. The male to whom Schezalle was speaking briefly directed his gaze that way.

The shorter drow female had the behaviour of a child who had just gotten a new toy and she motioned to the kitchen area. "This way," she commanded the masked female.

The masked one replied immediately. "Yes mistress."

Schezalle continued, aware of the activity on the other side of the bar. "Opportunity for advancement among our ranks if you are both suitable and capable," she said to the hooded male while keeping an eye on the drow female pointing to a corner in the kitchen for whatever reason. The other male, Sion, started to appear more relaxed as he turned his attention to Schezalle and the familiar male.

"Secondly, association, if indeed that is anything you desire to have," Schezalle continued in her conversation. The drow female in the distance gently shoved the masked female and ordered her to stand, still pointing to the corner. The other female then arose, glancing about, and proceeded to unwrap the mask from her face as the two moved out of sight into a rear room.

"The Black Claws are well known in Menzoberranzan and Ched Nasad, unfortunately less so here. But those associations run deep," Schezalle continued, turning her attention back to the male by the bar. "And the latter is a point we wish to change here."

"Opportunity and association," he repeated with a wry grin that increased the more she talked. Sion gave a curious expression as the names Menzoberranzan and Ched Nasad rolled off of Schezalle's tongue. "Some of my finer tastes you speak of," he continued and then he turned to face Sion.

"Abbil, you are a Claw also?" he asked him.

"Nau," came the simple, effective reply.

"Can I call you Claws, malla jalil?" he backtracked, looking back at Schezalle.

"He has not yet proven his worth to me," she told him while inspecting her curled fingertips. "But should he. . ." she added, leaving the rest of the sentence entirely unfinished.

"And if he shouldn't?"

"Well he is free to do as he wishes, here in this City of Jabbuk. But he cannot expect any graces from the Claws," she added dryly, using the male's own turn of phrase.

"Although. . ." she sipped from her wine glass before continuing, "I have not yet made him an offer as I have to you." At that, she turned to face Sion and gave him a deceitfully pleasant smile.

"Oh you do humble me... Tell me this malla jalil, have you heard of a rogue in the city, named Izzrar?" he asked her in reply.

"Oh do tell me of his exploits," she said, turning her face away from Sion now. Sion gave her a cold glare. Shez sipped delicately at her wine while her reddish-pink eyes gazed at the male.

"I cannot confirm any tales of exploits, 'tis only a name that many know in the city. Jalil, can I offer you wine of the finest quality?" he asked, and then turned to Sion. "And abbil, you also?"

At that moment the drow female emerged from the far room, strutting ahead of the taller, masked female who remained close by her side. "You will show your worth to us," the unmasked drow said as she headed directly towards the bar area. Schezalle's eyes drifted away from the familiar male's offer of wine to watch the two as they approached the bar.

The masked female cast her eyes towards the floor the closer she came, while the female drow lifted her chin and widened her shoulders, looking rather pleased with herself.

"There would be wine enough for all," the male by the bar continued.

"I already have my favourite, but perhaps the jaluk may take up on your offer," came Schezalle's reply, her attention now more clearly fixated on the two other females.

"Oh, I would show you something, if wine be not your cup," the male responded before suddenly being interrupted by the unfolding scene before them.

The drow female hissed at the masked one. "Introduce yourself," were the forced words that emerged from her mouth. Sion began to look uneasy once more within the confined spaces of the bar.

The masked female stood still, eyes downcast. Her gloved hands began to clench, whether out of fear or tension it was hard to determine without being able to read her facial expressions.

"I am Xira, servant of mistress Zarra and . . . Schezalle," she eventually blurted out, perhaps a touch unconvincingly as her voice muffled the remainder of her sentence, ". . . servant of the . . . Black Claws."

Zarra turned her facetious gaze to her mistress, appraising her reaction. The male by the bar tilted his head as he watched Xira. Schezalle merely sipped at her wine, although the most discerning eye might have detected the faintest of smirks developing in the corner of her mouth. Xira, not knowing who was who, kept her eyes fixated at the floor.

"And yet you do not show your mistress your delightful features?" she eventually responded with a dry and empty tone of voice. Xira turned her eyes towards Zarra. Sion shifted nervously. Zarra snapped her face towards the masked female, her more neutral, emotionless expression returning.

"Remove it," Zarra ordered her.

"Xas.. malla," came the obedient reply, and a hand which had been held behind her back now returns to her front and slowly unwound the fabric mask once again. After several rounds of unwrapping, white hair with a slight amber hue is revealed as well as the features of a pretty woman who is unfortunately a mix. Her eyes are not that sharp, her skin not that dark, her ears not so long. There was something cooking inside her as she was appraised but she allowed it and just stood still.

When she was done removing the mask, Schezalle left her glass on the bar and approached Xira. Sion scowled quietly, quite openly disgusted. Zarra took a step back in order to allow her mistress the room to inspect their new employee.

Schezalle approached to an awkwardly close distance, even leaning forward to place her face not even three inches from Xira's, although the drow matron's diminutive stature meant that she had to tilt her head up to look at the half-drow who stood before her. Shez's reddish-pink eyes stared directly into the violet ones of the half-breed, emotionless, taunting. Xira's violet eyes for but a moment met Schezalle's, almost a bit fierce but she then quickly averted them. The male drow at the bar watched their varied reactions more than Xira herself.

Schezalle reached up with one hand, stroking Xira's cheek. The half-drow immediately began to tremble, as if electricity were pulsating through her bones. Schezalle's hand slid to Xira's chin and gripped firmly, and she then forced the face too look directly back at her up-peering eyes. When she did, Xira kept her eye lashes lowered a moment longer before she met her gaze again.


"Your mistress is pleased, Zarra," is all she said after the appraisal and released her grip. She returned to the bar without saying anything else. The whole time Sion remained jittery, like a restrained dog being faced with a free feline wandering before him. Xira released a tense and inaudible breath. Zarra watched the interaction, her lips curling.

"Xira is trained with sword, she speaks. She will join us south and show us her worth to the Black Claws," Zarra told Shez. The face of the male at the bar dropped, showing the hint of disappointment.

"Yes... mistress..." came Xira's response to Zarra's statement. Shez took up her wine glass and nodded. Xira returned her eyes to the floor, and Zarra hovered nearby waiting for Schezalle's next lead. Not perceiving anything as immediately forthcoming, Zarra looked back at Xira scornfully.

"Cover yourself," she barked.

The male at the bar stared at Xira. "Curious," he stated simply.

"Do with her what you wish, Zarra," Shezalle remarked while swirling her wine in her glass, "I leave her in your care. Now where were we?" she said and turned back to the male drow by the bar. Xira moved back to Zarra's side, and Zarra responded by giving her a single gold plakla.

"I am no longer sure, malla jalil," he replied. All of a sudden Sion opened his mouth and made his intentions clear.

"Wait, jabress. Let me cut her throat now, at once. I will pay you back with two gnomes."

Schezalle paused and looked at him.

"We go into tunnels then," Zarra said in her unique way, followed immediately by Xira's obedient assenting nod.

"You are quite welcome to go with them," Shez suggested to Sion, who immediately took offence at the saying instead of seeing it as an opportunity to have his desire granted. He immedately turned away with a disgusted look and left the Gloura's, not returning for the remainder of the cycle.

The two females would then leave together for a hunt in the tunnels. Schezalle would eventually return to a brief conversation with the other male until they, too, departed the Gloura's together. Schezalle did not return to her lodgings for quite some time, and when she did, her face was that of anxiety mixed with potential opportunism.


"Izzrar, you are a cunning one indeed," she muttered as she made her way into her private chamber.
Last edited by Tsidkenu on Sat Jul 18, 2015 10:30 am, edited 8 times in total.
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Re: Black Claws Mercantile Company

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Zarra returns to Schezalle with a strut in her step and her head held high almost as a domesticated cat returns proudly to its owner proudly displaying its catch in its mouth. She pulls the now scrubbed clean Xira forward. "Xira spoke her blood oaths to us and the Dark Mother, she has already proven herself useful in the caverns. She will prove useful here." Zarra seems to relish in the moment of her first taste of independent power as she bosses the half-drow into doing the chores she is now above.
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Re: Black Claws Mercantile Company

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"And so it turns out the half-breed has the powers of a fahliel," Schezalle murmured to herself in the quiet of her fragranced bath. "The faern, Nymrath, suggested those abilities be put to use in the school of Evocation. What an utterly splendid idea. Zarra!" she called out, intending to communicate this new mission to her second-in-charge.
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Re: Black Claws Mercantile Company

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There wasn't much of a choice here. Although she didn't seem to be regarded as a slave here, which she had been under her mistress of House S'sril, it did seem more wise to serve and stay close to Zarra, and with it to Schezalle. There were others who'd rather see her death, not to mention that drow male at the inn.

The two roma had her a bit confused. On one hand they probably were no better than all the other ilythiiri Xira had served. On the other hand... fairly thinking, they did pay her better and seem to treat her better. Not that they were kind, not at all, and surprisingly thus far the only physical punishment she endured in this city had been dealt by... an equal. Well, not entirely equal, but still. The blow which had been dealt wasn't something she'd cry over as she was used to much... much more.

She still had no what to make of this person... someone she'd otherwise would have called sister as half-drow tend to stick together and help each other. But this one seemed so far stuck up their...

Xira clenched her fists and then simply shrugged it off. There were other things she had to focus on. The half-drowess curled herself up in her sleeping bag just outside Schezalle's tent, just in case leaving her mask on and keeping a knife ready in her hand. To anyone passing she just seemed like another ordinary bag that was property of the Black Claws Mercantile Company.
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Re: Black Claws Mercantile Company

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"The Magthere seems to have no answer to these cultists," Schezalle mused once back in the quiet of her private rental quarters. "And the Mythal failed to prevent a guard attacking one of the school of Necromancy's faerns right at the foot of the Z'orr'bauth. Is this city truly in such a weakened state that the wizards scatter hither and thither to try to prop up what seems to be faltering? What a curious time to be here."

Those plotting eyes darted around her room as she began to make plans for the Black Claw's next steps, and a cunning grin formed in the corner of her mouth.
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Re: Black Claws Mercantile Company

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"And another half-breed shows his face," Schezalle said to Zarra as her meal of fresh rothe tartare served with a side of various delicious underdark fungi was set before her.

"And this one seems oh-so-willing to serve the Lolthites," she added with a smirk.

"What a refreshingly rare possibility this presents," she said as she brought her favourite Berduskan Dark wine to her lips. "I have tasked this Unen to bring ten goblin heads to the warehouse as his initial test. If he brings them, set them aside for me, Zarra. I have more. . . experiments . . . to do with them. As for the male, set him another task fitting for one feigning Lolthite obedience. We will weed out his true intentions if he truly wishes to make himself useful to us."
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Re: Black Claws Mercantile Company

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"This cycle was most interesting," Schezalle mused as she prepared a vial of death cap mushroom toxin. "I am now acquainted with the yathrin of house Sshamath, and she freely told me of a delicious happenstance she has planned. For what purpose, it yet evades me, but nonetheless I have promised her my unswerving loyalty."

"Now we have three more tasks to accomplish, besides the matter with that faern of the Magthere of Illusion," she said to Zarra as she placed the vial of poison into one of her belt pouches which was laying on the table before her.

"Firstly, we must investigate what has happened to House Zau'afin. Malla Yathrin does miss them so. I have a contact who may help us with this. Secondly, she has offered us a significant reward if we can discover the circumstances of the death of one Rilae'ar'an," the matron said with a pause and then stood, beginning to loosen her armour plates. She gradually removed them, piece by piece, before eventually ridding herself of her cloth padding as well.

"Zarra, you will find out who that is, and if possible, what happened to her. Apparently she is a surfacer, but I do not want you travelling," she said as she made her way to a warm, scented bath. "Find out what you can here, and we will send a request through the network if we must. Alternatively, Malla Yathrin suggested that the recent arrival of a rivvil from the surface might prove to be sufficient enough means to acquire the information she seeks. But do not worry about him. I am sure he will be tantalized enough after I have given him a dance or two."
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