Silent Tide

[Fragglerock]

The four disparate conspirators made their way to the the roof. The Friendly Arm Inn, had yet to be revealed a lair of a doppleganger and Bentley always seemed to value their privacy.

With the door closed and locked tightly they stared at each other, for the moment, not saying a word. Their mere presence together with their inner thoughts constitued treason.

The minstrel finally began, the silence too much to bear. "We know why are here, the motivation." The moon elf signaled quietly with her hand, the sign for the Fist.

The orc, nodded and growled, baring his sharp incissors. His demonstrations illustrating the groups frustration and anger.

The last of the group, masked and hidden beneath his hat, asked "So what are we about?"

The minstrel smiled widely, plucking his lute, a somber chord sounding forth. "We do what all have done in history. We become the power. Then we destroy it from within, before we smash it from without."

They were not a guild, a group, or a cabal. They were cells, individuals, bound only by their belief that not every man is ruled by the Duke, or the Fist.

They finished their planning, for it would be sometime before they would all be in once place again.

The minstrel stayed at the bar as the others dispersed across the coast, and mused to himself. 'Well, at least you can't kill an idea."