Warning

[Flasmix]

A piece of paper that is posted in the Gloura's Wing Tavern reads as follows;

A warning from Bregan D'earthe;

Any merchants, aside from the merchants who have set up a permanent shop in town, caught selling goods to an Air Genasi named Arosen Drackley or a Half-Drow arcane caster named Vilrae Yesendre will be executed in the passage leading into town.

Arosen and Vilrae are hereby banned from any and all trade within the city and surrounding underdark passages.

Again, anybody caught selling or buying from them will be executed publically in the passage leading into town.

Signed,

Flasmix
Head Merchant of Bregan D'earthe

[BlackaWhacka]

I need a personal guard....... He is the one most suitable for the job.

*Lowers head* ........ so he is more suitable than I am?

He and I share the same long term goal. Plus, it will be rather easy for me to "keep my eyes" on him.



Sipping firewine in the tavern, with the hopes of forgetting his earlier encounter with his former boss, Flasmix, Arosen looks down at the table with absent eyes. Boss. The same boss who lit him on fire with his magical lute, slept with the only love he ever knew, and just recently replaced him with Kharas, the man who sought to kill him.

You spoke to Vilrae of what I spoke to Kharas about. That is what she confronted me about.

Well, of course I told her about Kharas, and his recent membership into our group..... didn't you say she was part of the guild as well?

Wasn't she going to find out he was a member eventually? And besides....... isn't he intent on killing her?

Whatever relationship we have aside..... aren't we supposed to protect the members of the guild?

I said she was close to joining. If you also listened, I talked him out of any vengeance he had planned.



“No..... “Arosen thinks to himself. How could he have known she was not really a member? He may have been intoxicated that day, but he is undoubtedly sure Flasmix had said she was a member. Furthermore, he trusted every word out of Flasmix’s mouth...... and now, it seems, to a fault. But why stress over the matter..... even if she wouldn’t have been a member, he still would have told her. Flasmix cared not for her safety, only for himself and his desires.

I overheard a conversation between her and Arosen, quite some time ago, where they determined to help watch one another's back.

Who doesn't? I would ask that you do not seek revenge on her but you hold cards. She has shown her hand and you know it beats yours.

If I give her a chance to use those magics, it does. But without her defenses, I suspect I could destroy her.

Then your only hope is to attack her in town when her defenses are down and pray the Charnaeg Maelthra show you some form of mercy.



With words like that, how could he not warn her? The words, reverberating in his head, can’t seem to fade, as he holds the wine glass in his hand.....

“There must be, something stronger......”

Vilrae, upon examining the note, explains to Arosen its contents. Stunned, confused, and wondering to himself.....why?...... he wipes his face with both hands, a nauseating feeling overcoming him.

I have a feeling things will become dangerous for me.....

You're not the only one with that feeling....... I'm afraid Flasmix's desire for the secrets of lichdom are overriding all other interests and concerns.



It all makes sense. Kharas, self-proclaimed follower of Kiaransalee, would undoubtedly strike a chord in Flasmix, who seems eager to rid himself of his current corporeal state. Vilrae, enfuriated by the whole ordeal, storms over to Flasmix’s table and the two begin throwing verbal darts at each other. Of all the insults, snide remarks, and inflammatory words, one comment sticks out for Arosen......

Either way, both of you can be redeemed and the note removed for the cost of 10,000 gold......



“.......That’s all he cares about..... himself.” Arosen mutters silently, “Bregan D'earthe..... they don’t realize what they’ve got on their hands......” Muttering to himself, he plans his next course of action, though not really knowing exactly what direction to take. Someone must hear him, someone must understand him. But who will listen? Who will care? He is an outsider, an elemental, a nobody in a cruel world that despises itself, let alone others not belonging to it. Flasmix, on the other hand, is charismatic and confident; a master of words and a viciously political individual who conducts his schemes among his own people. Why would anyone contradict him? Either way, Arosen knows that the sand in the hour glass is running out, and making an enemy out of Flasmix, followed by his possible removal from Bregan D'earthe, just means the sand will fall that much faster.

“He wants to sink me.... he wants to bring me down..... if that is his hope, then the desire is mutual.”

Rising up from the table, everything around seemingly appearing non-existent, he walks towards the exit. Observing the aforementioned note on the wall, he smiles to himself, as he proceeds to rip it from the wall and walk out of the tavern.

“Lorath must hear me.....”

[Stonehouse]

A stout child of the earth stops to look at the note. He stares at it intently and dispassionately for more time than it should take to read the message. Finally, he grunts and spits gravel and pebbles onto the flagstones, chewing a few as he makes for the door.

[Flasmix]

The note is replaced later that day and other notes are posted in very visible places around town.

[FallzQuick]

Norian reads the note and wonders what his actions will be...

[zoombee84]

After reading the note Lorath turning to the guild members to discuss this matter .

[Egg Shen]

Kharas is in the bazaar, haggling with Droin over the price of a few gems. He seems to do this often, and for no other reason than it amuses him. In fact, some have said that he is a bit duergar-like himself. Many drow would consider this an insult worthy of drawing blades over, but Kharas apparently doesn't realize it could be construed as a slight upon his person.

He breaks off his conversation with Droin as he notices a note pinned to an unused stall.

After he reads it, and then re-reads it, a frown creases his otherwise smooth brow.

His eyes flit around the bazaar, suddenly wary. A passing patrol catches his eye, and he follows a short distance behind them, heading for The Gloura's Wings.