Quest Nightshade

[Leigo]

Leigo could see someone handing a letter to Hadrian. Whatever it said remained a secret, but by the man’s complete calmness the boy assumed it was bad news. Surely even a rock would allow itself a smile upon receiving delightful information. Turning around he was starting to wonder if coming alone was really his best bet. Sure he couldn’t trust anyone, but it wouldn’t have hurt him to hire some muscle for company at such a recluse event. Both he and Onuo remained quiet. There was an uneasy feeling around the room; he didn’t know any of these people. Save for Anselm, who he could still smell although it wasn’t quite sure which one was he. The only sure thing was that Anselm wasn’t in Leigo’s immediate vicinity. Grateful for that he would take rest and fixate his eyes on the unmasked man. The plan wasn’t so bad. Surely it would be easier to pick off one buyer and their escort as opposed to going against so many here. What did Lion want with him all of a sudden anyway?

[Wrenmae]

He moved with a sort of practiced diligence. Swaying between the guests, inviting their movements by swinging his arm toward and away from various directions. The long dagger and rapier remained tucked beneath the black cloak on his shoulders, and each step he took was an effort in care. Every guest earned his eye, prying through their contours and clothing, trying to sneak beneath their mask. Each was a separate enigma, wrapped in colors and mystique. To each he nodded politely, leading them to their perch before returning to the door. The others worked like clockwork, each under their seperate guises. Shroud kept his eyes to the stage, the place where Hadrian stood king of his own little kingdom. A land of the unknown, how quaint, but the way the mage had looked at him...Shroud could hardly assume anything, now could he? Instead he found himself leading the last into place, taking up a space near the exit. Beneath his silver mask, he observed the world in the lowlight of lanterns. He watched the sway and buck of the flame, the way the people shifted, how they moved. "Are we at a funeral?" Zan asked irritiably, "No one's saying anything." "Worse," Shroud answered, his eyes scanning the differences in height, "An auction, where old treasures go to die." "Can't we take them ourselves?" "Probably, but that's not what I'm being paid for." "What ARE you being paid for?" "To give my best impression of a guard dog." "For little gold bordered coins?" "A fetching price for loyalty, so long as what I guard is not more juicy." "Is it?" "Remains to be seen, my friend, remains to be seen." Leaning back against the door, he crossed his arms and nodded to Hadrian. The time limit had been met, the doors were now sealed from the inside. Shroud and Hadrian held the only keys, tokens of their mutual trust...at least as far as mizas bought. They could now proceed.

[Lucas Arias]

With her mask and different clothes Lucas didn’t recognize Nai’shee. Her voice still sounded familiar though, so the former squire furrowed his brow and looked at her a moment longer than he would have otherwise as she adressed him. Should he ask her who she was or not? He decided that he would keep quiet. There was a reason why they were all wearing masks. She probably wanted her identity to remain a secret.

So he just murmurred ‚thank you‘ as she informed him that the package she had brought was the last one. He didn’t know why she was whispering. Why didn’t she want anybody else to know that this was the last package? Was there something special about it? The whole event was becoming more and more mysterious. If only he could open one of those packages and see what was inside!

Should he dare? He looked at the package Nai’shee had brought, but then he shook his head. No, the contents might explode. A monster might jump out. He might be possessed by dangerous magic. He decided that it would be best to continue to guard the packages and be slightly bored for now.

[Nai'shee]

OOCEchelon, about the last round, I didn't use his name, I just happened to forget "not" lol.

After Nai'shee delivered the letter her job was technically done, except for guarding precious relics until they were sold out. She felt something will happen. Nothing ever happened on events like this, they were secured well, but being part of that security gave her some suspicious thoughts. The atmosphere was heavy, quiet. People didn't recognize each other and thus didn't interact. Bodyguards gave chills to those around them by single sight. She felt most of the mass were very respective people, those who were on the other side of the law, but on who nobody would dare to point at.

She joined Lucas besides packages, ready to find out what was inside. Only for that, she hoped the auction would start soon. She wasn't aware he didn't recognize her, so she felt no need to speak. She glanced at Hadrian again, unable to read his emotions about the letter. Everyone was quiet, as if everything around her waited for something to happen.

[Echelon]

As the last of the guests were seen in, the doors and drapes were pulled shut, and a nod echos through the room first from Wrenmae to Hadrian, then onward to Trente who turned professionally and moved silently to Nai'shee. This movement seemed to signal a new wave of hush over the small crowd, who already seemed reluctant to allow a word above a whisper. This left the paper Trente handed to Nai'shee ruffle almost loudly within the room. It was a list, numbers and letters beginning with B-7 which all corresponded with those on the boxes, varying in size behind the thin drape which separated the stage from the inventory. "Bring them out in order." His voice emanated a gravely sound, too strained to be quite a whisper. At first it seemed some feign at mystery, but along with a small bead of sweat reaching his chin and a glimpse of chalky pale lips Nai'shee could see Trente was sick. Hadrian had known this before Trente laid a foot on stage, but with insistence from the proud man Hadrian had allowed him a chance to prove his resolve. With the slightest impulsive flourish of the silky cape hung from his shoulders Trente worked his way back to the stage, and began with a scratchy yet withheld voice his introduction. With rolled from deep in his throat, the sickness giving an eery almost foreboding sound to his usually quite smooth voice. And, with effort, the sounds filled every shadowy corner of the small conclave of masked figures, Lorded over by Professor Aelis. "On behalf of our generous sponsors I welcome you all to a once in a live time opportunity. No matter your longevity I promise you all, you will never again see a night like this. You will never again find yourself audience to such power, and such unbridled opportunity. Tradition of auction would dictate restraint, and shrewd parsimonious conduct. However, such prudence will win nothing tonight. Tonight, the cutthroat and aggressive shall secure power, and the timid will win nothing but regret." Lending a dramatic pause, he then nodded once with assurance to Nai'shee, signalling her to slip into the store room and retrieve the first artifact. "Let the auction begin..." All those that had it within themselves to desire power found the flair within them, sheening within flickering fire lit eyes as the masked announcer confidently and without hesitation read from his rehearsed notes on the artifacts. Not even Hadrian has seen the fully compiled list before this night, and only the most amoral could doubt that these relics and magic imbued tools were dangerous both in the right and wrong hands. Relics that made flickers of magic flames torrents of deadly power, that granted deathly insights to unwise men, and could cripple nations with the expenditures of a single charge. Hadrian and his team began to slowly understand the nature of the masked persons in the crowd as they unabashedly began to bid, thousands, sometimes millions of gold rimmed Mizas, and other foreign currencies on item that could grant them and their factions undeniable power. And, as the announcer pushed himself farther and farther through his sickness to deliver flourishes and explication of the item's power answers began to fill the two intruders. This was not some simple auction, but one that could turn quite easily on Zeltiva itself, could turn on entire populations. The unmasked man's (Hadrian's) secret meeting could bring disgusting, revolting fates to masses due to this shadowed congregations. And the salivating masked figures gave no promise, in manner or speech, that they had any pure intentions. oocFor those of you who desire specifics on the relics which are being presented PM Papa and bug him about now approving anything in specific for this thread. We can always run specifics later as well if you wish to hunt something down, or if you want to steal something cool speak to me and papa about it. As for what I'm going for this round, I'd like to see all of your responses to the depravity of this gathering. These are items that can start wars, end wars. We are talking biowarfair, enhancements that turn mages to gods (not literally) so on and so forth. Massive amounts of money are being promised here, and no questions are being asked of where they will use it or how. Hadrian is the only on here that knows for certain that Zeltiva has fail safes against the items being used against them. Faval post when you wish. For the rest of you. Hadrian Anselm Leigo Wrenmae Lucas Nai'shee Keep in mind that if everything isn't resolved or goes down in this thread you can still follow up in another, even later this night if you wish. Don't feel rushed.

[Hadrian]

Hadrian was forewarned, and he had prepared as best he could. Faval watched from above, Wrenmae patrolled below, and there were others, mercenaries all, but loyal to his coin, he hoped. Besides, he had been scanning the auras of the guests, and he found no aura so blazingly strong that he was afraid he could not hold his own in a magical battle, but there were more of them than there were of him. He was pleased with Nai'shee and Lucas' efficiency, and admired Trente's will power in the face of his illness. But as ridiculous amounts of money were spent, and powerful artifacts were purchased, he realized just what sort of danger they were in. So much power, so much money, masked men and women, and already one of their planned guests gone missing. So Hadrian did what he did best: he observed. His auristic senses were carefully squinting so as not to be blinded by accidentally focusing too closely on one of the artifacts, but adding more information to what his mundane senses could discern, and his Lykata pulled little scraps of impressions from the chavi. It was a matter of sifting through all of that, but he didn't make an attempt to analyze; rather, he focused almost meditatively on the simple things, leaving the bulk of his brain to do what it did unconsciously: produce intuition. Eyris, guide me, he quietly begged.

[Anselm]

As the auction proceeded, Anselm grew increasingly uncomfortable. You are out of your element here old man, he thought. These are dangerous people and dangerous things are afoot. Several thoughts tumbled over each other in his mind. Four to be exact. First, where did these enchanted artifacts, some of them undoubtedly pre-Valterrian, come from? Anselm had never seen a collection of this size and scope before. Up to this very moment, he would not have believed this many artifacts of power even existed. Someone somewhere had stumbled on to an incredible find and was going to make a fortune off it. Second, who was the seller? Putting together an event of this caliber was no easy task. It would have required a lot of money and a lot of connections. Third, who were the buyers? Some of the wealthiest and most powerful people in Mizahar must be in this room right now. Fourth, to what use would these artifacts be put? Anselm had little confidence in the inherent goodness of people. Most people, given the means, would go to almost any lengths to obtain wealth and power. These artifacts of power would undoubtedly be used. And people would die. The prospect of people dying did not in and of itself concern Anselm much. But the social, economic and political chaos that this kind of power could bring did concern him. To a large extent, his life and livelihood depended on peace and stability. The events unfolding before him on this evening did not portend well for peace and stability. But something did not seem quite right. A thought occurred to him: This gathering represents an extraordinary concentration of powerful people and their money in one place at one time. What does that mean? He could only wait and watch.

[Faval]

Ignorance was one of Faval’s most noticeable qualities. He did not know much about magic, he did not know much about the higher classes, he did not know much about anything that was going on here or the people that had shown up. What he did know was war and more predominantly, recognizing threats. Faval didn’t know what the relics that spewed raw energy as if they were breathing could do, but he was knowledgeable enough to know that the people there weren’t offering more money than Faval knew existed for a glorified night light. There was something sinister going on here and Faval would be frightened if he wasn’t so busy being angry. The young man’s eyes deviated from the items that the rich folk were groveling over and instead turned to the man who had repeated flicked his view up to him. It wouldn’t take any great skill to notice that Faval’s “aura” was furious and panicked; you didn’t even need magic to tell that meting out his personal brand of justice upon his employer was rather prevalent in his mind. Hadrian had not given him any particulars about what he’d be guarding and had been incredibly vague, so calling him a liar would be inappropriate, but he had certainly hadn’t given Faval the whole story as to what would be going on here. Faval was expecting to be guarding art or a person or maybe even an artistic person, he was not planning to stand pat and protect the proliferation of massively destructive objects.

Faval had almost fully retrieved an arrow from his quiver before his senses caught up to him. Killing Hadrian, despite just how much he truly wanted to, wasn’t going to actually stop anything; it’d probably just send the place in to a state of panic and make it easier for the owners of these objects to be even less regulated than it already was. On top of that, he did not fully know what Hadrian was capable of and what he could do. He was rather confident in his ability to not be harmed if Faval shot at him and he managed to find him in a rather secluded section of the woods considerably easier than Faval thought possible. One of the first lessons he learned was not to attack an opponent whose capabilities you did not know. Begrudgingly, Faval’s hand dropped from his quiver and rested by his side. He didn’t want to die just yet; he’d worry about Hadrian’s retribution for participating in this atrocity later, preferably when he wasn’t guaranteed to die immediately afterward. He couldn’t sit there and do nothing, but there wasn’t much he could do either. He wasn’t skilled enough at tracking people to legitimately follow them afterward and wrest these weapons from them and any offensive action he took now while he could see the den of indecency would result in him dying immediately after and not being able to do anything about it, but he had to do something, somehow.

[Leigo]

People seemed to light up and scheme in small collectives dispersed through the dim room. And as for Leigo – well he couldn’t care less about all of it. There was value in those objects certainly as the depraved bunch kept the bids up and up and… sky seemed to be stepping down limit-wise. What the boy was concerned with however was of a whole other nature. Surely these people could use what they bought against Zeltiva, but that was hardly worrisome. After all like that strange, clawed, monster girl – they were mostly foreigners. And after all no Zeltivan would threaten the city effectively – it was simply too big and too brilliant to fall so simply. And then there was the question of Lion. Should he really be trying to help the man that probably had something to do with his father’s demise? Or should he maybe kill the man and keep whatever it is he was supposed to steal? If it was worth so much to such a high ranking smuggler, then perhaps another would soon come for it too. And then Leigo could maybe, just maybe, capture that one and… No, no… and no. It was simply too open-ended to work. It wasn’t a plan, but a suicide mission. He would either help Lion or gain his trust to cripple the organization later on, or he could capture him and perhaps get some truth out. It was a tough decision, but it was one to be made at a later date. There was one however that couldn’t wait so much. For obvious reasons, he needed to get his hands on one of these items. Any of the treasure would do, but picking a buyer to steal from was another matter entirely. The only thing that seemed sensible to Leigo was going after one with the strongest guard. After all equipping him or herself with so many goons provided cockiness and overconfidence the blond could use not soon after. He had his sights locked onto a man surrounded by two gorillas. Now if he could only figure out a way to snatch his target away from those giants… Ah yes, at least one of them would likely be carrying whatever it is they buy – if they buy anything – Gods! Why was this so hard? He would need to wait for the auction to end and then he would need to pick out a target again. There was no guarantee that gorilla boy over there would actually get himself anything.

[Wrenmae]

OOC : All items he's mentioning are pre-approved by Paragon. PM me for the details, there's a bit too much to post in a spoiler comment. Trente swayed, only for a moment, but enough for Murdock to spot the weakness in his stance. Trente, like most people who shared a room or presence with the Blighter for too long, was ill. Perhaps it was a hay fever, a passing cold, but with Shroud around, it was emphasized. Nevertheless, he held his own, putting both hands firmly on the podium before announcing the items as they were brought in. Hundreds of them, strange artifacts, curious oddities. All of them shone with age, the craftsmanship of a dead era. “Lot 15, Second Skin, a suite for a morpher and saboteur that stores the shapes of those it comes in contact with, Lot 16, Staff of Lights, a powerful magic staff with the ability to create devastating Reimancy. Lot 17, the Staff of Warding, a staff that is said to defend its user from most danger, Lot 18 and 19, two sets of Alahean mage armor crafted to be worn into battle by their most powerful mages, Lot 20, the Skull of Calamity, turning friend against friend when given to an enemy. Lot 20, 21, and 22, Ambdeer’s automated Guardcats, made of resilient steel, the first is the largest, followed by two smaller. Reliant guards and vicious killers. Lot 23, The Bladewasp hive, automated wasps that can be released at a command. Lot 24, Voider, a sword given to a general and cast into the sea, it has the power to open voids. Lot 25, the Void keys, triggered weapons that release a powerful void where the stone is dropped. Lot 26, the Novastones, swallowed they will leech Djed from the victim and explode in a cataclysmic reimancy reaction, Lot 27, Wraith Blade, a blade said to cut spirits and bypass barriers. Lot 28… ” He continued on, indicating each item as he spoke. From the back, Shroud straightened, gazing intently at the items on display. Bids followed, immediate and staggering in the amount of mizas offered. Crates of the minted coins would not contain all the wealth hurled at Trente as the bidding began and continued. Shroud followed the items he coveted, the blade, the suite, and phial, noting that the suite and phial went to one individual bidding quietly from the back. Tall and lanky, swaddled in black silk, the mysterious buyer certainly gave off the impression of casual power. “So…?” Zan asked, almost bubbling out of his throat in excitement, “Are we content playing guard dog?” Only as a means to an end, Shroud reminded his familiar, watching more items brought up and sold amid cascades of nonchalant riches, Besides, anything we want we may still be able to take. “How do you figure?” Note the lack of coin here. These men and women are bidding with promises, but the items will not be given to them until the payment can be delivered. What can we infer about that? “They have big pockets?” A chuckle. Close, but no. From this we can infer that their wealth must be close by, somewhere easily accessible in order to pay for the items in question. That said, it would mean that there is somewhere where all these mizas are being housed, likely all in different locations and also likely close to Zeltiva. Or We can also guess that this is a preliminary hearing. The costs and names will be totaled and a drop point will be designated. An envelope or some sort of message will be given to the buyers when they secure their bid with instructions. These instructions will require the money be sent somewhere while the transaction takes place. From that we gather that if their money is not here, then it may take some time for it to be delivered. Regrettably, after that, we are left with the characters of the individuals in question. With such financial assets, they almost certainly must have an organization behind them. Now, would they await their money to be delivered and then pick up the object? Would they remain here? Would they return home and leave a trusted retainer with the task of acquisition? We don’t have enough information. “So…” So we wait. The only thing we can be sure of is that no one will leave here with the item they came to claim. Instead they will be delivered the object at a different date, when the details and price is met in full. “So we’re stealing them?” We are stealing TWO of them. Not enough to draw a noose around our neck, only enough to perhaps make us a very dangerous enemy. “That sounds exciting.” Well, hopefully we won’t be in Zeltiva long enough for them to track us down, and if we do the job right the first time, there won’t be any trail at all. “Won’t our employer get mad?” Hadrian? I’m not sure. I don’t think these are his items, I think he’s working for someone else as well. With so much profit, certainly one irate customer can be dealt with. Regardless, we’ll have to remain careful. “When do we move?” Later. Have patience my friend, have patience. We’ll find where they’re taking the items and sneak in later. We ARE the security. Provided we’ve earned the trust of our employer, there will be a time when we’ll be guarding the merchandise. We’ll make our move then. “Dangerous, dangerous.” Nothing worth having isn’t. A smile curled along the Wave guard’s mouth as he watched the auction continue. Part of him, though, a part deep inside, quailed. The power represented here, the items, the fact that the masked men and women in the audience bid with almost blasé indolence…it was conflicting. Part of him wanted to revel in that power. The other part wanted to burn this whole place down. What a difficult conundrum.