<thanks Kris for the RP - part one of two>
Mule - Rue Denali, former guard captain of the Brookshire division Mort - Zurvan Lee, horse trainer, employed at the Ravenlock Riding Academy Raydin - Proprietor of the Cat's Den Mule and Mort's undercover assignment: To seek out information on the Wyvern Raiders and purchase supplies for future confrontations. --------- Downtown MystHaven Merchant District evening (about one week ago) *~take my life time has been twisting the knife I don't recognize people I care for...~* Mule had as much of a restful night as he would ever have these days, and as a result, as he entered the tavern, his eyes seemed a bit sharper, though he was still pale with about five day's stubble on his cheeks. Wearing a simple white linen shirt tucked into brown trousers that slung low for lack of a waist to hold them up much, the dagger Mort had given him earlier was sheathed at his waist with the hilt clearly displaying the design of the elvin symbols so that he would be protected. He was eager to get through this night and hopefully gain something for the group who hunted the land raiders of this Isle, the Wyverns. Mort smiled softly, watching Mule and wondering about how this was to go, as Mule looked like hell had walked over him. For some reason this seemed to be a bad omen, at least to Mort. He'd come to Myst to live a farmer's simple life and now he was getting involved again in not only assassin actions, but his old clan was operating business here. He was sure that they could help though, for a price. Mule walked casually, as if he had all the time and not a care in the world. On him he carried a slim money pouch of substantial coin and an actual list of items he sought. Mule wet his lips and pressed them together. Oh what he wouldn't give for a drink he thought absently. His fingers curled and uncurled at his sides and he walked along beside Mort in silence. Mort stopped behind one of the shops, its back entrance just a few feet from where he stood and then he nodded again to Mule looking at him steadily to make sure he seemed ready enough. Mort showed little to no signs of agitation; actually a lack of emotion would best describe his disposition. Mule tilted his neck from side to side and stopped himself from asking how the house was coming along. No personal talk. He met Mort's gaze with his own dark unreadable eyes and waited. *~...the things that I know nobody told me the seeds that are sown they still control me...~* Mort knocked at the door three times. Slowly, a figure peeked his eyes through the slit and said one word while looking right at Mort, "Akuma." Mort nodded softly to the man and spoke in return, �We are here for business...� The man then nodded and flipped out two blindfolds through the slit and handed them to Mort. Mort nodded silently in reply, moving to hand one to Mule. Then Mort retorted to the man behind the slit, �You know this will not stop me from seeing.� The man replied, "Humor me." Mule glanced sideways to Mort as he took the blindfold, his fingers slowly rubbing the fabric. Gods, he didn't care to be blindfolded again, not for one minute, not for the rest of his life, after that two-week ordeal. His jaw line visibly twitched as he took a deep breath to prepare to lift the cloth to his eyes. Mort closed his own eyes and placed the fold in place, this seeming not to bother him whatsoever. The man at the slit watched Mort fasten his fold and then waited for Mule before continuing. Mort hadn't mentioned this, yet he seemed to take it in stride. Mule's fingers fumbled, prolonging it as much as possible, then inching along the fabric and resting over his eyes. The darkness again. Just breathe, he thought. He cleared his throat and lowered his hands. The man then slowly swung the door open, a creak emanating from the hinges. Two figures stepped forth attempting to place their hands on both Mort's and Mule's wrists to lead them forward into the back of the shop. No words were exchanged. Mule flinched at first touch but then remained still, walking when tugged upon. He was concentrating on what he could hear, besides his own rapid heartbeat that is. Mort was actually counting each of his footsteps in his head, memorizing where he was being lead in case he needed this information later. The creaking sound of a trap door, and Mort was lead down a ladder first. Then the men silently assist Mule down the ladder into the depths below the shop. Mule's foot slipped on the second rung, his chin mere centimeters away from smacking against the ladder as he gripped tightly to the structure, regaining his footing and then proceeding. Hell's hounds, this was like some type of obstacle course. 'If you don't die on the way, they may just let you buy something' could be the slogan. The thought, combined with his flustering ego at slipping caused a bit of a smirk to slip over his face as he continued down the ladder. Mort chuckled lightly, hearing the sounds of Mule above him. Then he and Mule were lead through a labyrinth of underground paths. It seemed they were being twisted and turned in many countless directions, in an attempt to disorient them, while Mort's keen mind was memorizing each turn they took, still counting each of the steps. Not trained in his companion's professional assassin ways, Mule was fighting back the sickening feeling of d�j� vu, wondering if perhaps this group was connected to the Wyverns. Rationally, he tried to fight down his feelings. This was underground, not in a cave in the mountains. North of the city then. Now you're in the city. But...still, the similarities of being twisted about and led through dark, dank, earthen elements was starting to creep him out entirely. A door opened and Mort was lead inside, Mule following. Immediately, the air felt much warmer and the sound and scent of a fire was prevalent within this room. The sound of a man easing into his chair was heard just ahead, and warriors training to the left were obvious as muffled noises of grunts in drowish tongue and metal on metal sifted through. The sounds caused Mule to tilt his head in their directions and the warmth and smell of a fire did much to ease his weary mind. The Wyvern had offered no such warmth. Still his thoughts had done enough damage to set his jaw aching, which in turn caused a few beads of sweat to build up on his temples. Without the aid of the opiate fog, his emotions might be hard to control. *~...there's a liar in my head there's a thief upon my bed and the strangest thing is I cannot get my eyes open...~* Raydin called out toward both of the men standing at his underground front door, and chuckling he spoke to Mort in drow, "I see they made you wear the blindfold brother, and you didn't harm them." He then looked toward Mule, "You both may remove the cloth..." Mort nodded and undid his blindfold, letting it drop to the ground; he looked around this common room seeing most of the wares on the shelves. Then he noted the three doors, one on each side of the room and the exit of this place obviously behind them. Raydin sat at the table in the center of the room with a bottle of wine and glasses in front of him. Mort replied in the same tongue, "There was no point in harming them, it would have just created a nuisance." Mule's hand moved upward quickly, yanking the fold down fast to his neck where it hung like a noose and he took a deep breath as his eyes refocused in the room's light. "Thank you," he breathed out, looking at Raydin and wanting to offer his hand but uh, not sure if he should. Then, taken in by the array of supplies around them, Mule cast short glances to the shelves as well. Mort walked forward to Raydin, and then tilted his head gazing toward Mule, saying nothing; he was here just to act as an aid to Mule, because this was Mule's group they were dealing with after all. Raydin grinned, looking at Mule, he just chuckled, "I am sure this is time for introductions, Rue Denali, My name is Raydin, it is good to see you." He remembered seeing the man in uniform previously in the DragonMyst Inn, "and it seems your friends are not with you right now..." he tilted his head, "but I am wondering why you've come to see me." Mule blinked back to reality, the drowish exchange of words falling heavy on his unknowledgeable ears. He turned his attention entirely back to Raydin, and stepped forward as well, extending his hand by habit more than anything else. "Raydin, eh? Please call me Mule..." He glanced to Mort, who had called Raydin, Panther. "Oh but a good friend of mine IS here with me tonight. I could not ask for someone more knowledgeable in these matters by my side. I come seeking supplies and information, strictly business." Raydin looked to Mort who just nodded in agreement. Raydin looked back to Mule, "I only deal with non-military and non-guard clientele for now, it's not worth my time or troubles to offer business to knights and guards and such. I have heard that you were expelled from your ranks, but I would like further information on this, if we are to do business, to make sure this is not a clever set-up to undermine my business." Mule eyed the table, "May I?" then he moved to sit, keeping his eyes upon the carafe of wine. Raydin nodded slightly, "Oh yes you may," he nodded slowly, "It is for guests and business dealings." At that moment two figures in ritualistic attire step from the northern side of the room, two women with the most obsidian of skin and white hair. They were very drowish, and they just stand there in observation, each with a black leather book in hand. Having seen a few strange things in Outer Arangoth and the wilds of Myst, Mule at least didn't fall off the bench as he simultaneously sat down and lifted his head to see the women. But he had never ever seen drow, never seen anyone that looked like that and he did linger his gaze upon them a bit. "Well, what information would you like to know? I'm no longer a guard. I consider myself a mercenary with one goal." He elbowed the table and leaned on his forearms. "And I would dearly love to taste that wine." Raydin nodded as both of the women stepped forth, sauntering toward the table and then they sat down on either side of Raydin, curling toward him seductively. Raydin tilted his head as he spoke, "Well first off, knowing why you were disbanded from your previous post would be helpful, and do you have a need or wish to rejoin their ranks?" Mule glanced to Mort, wondering if he would sit already, he was making Mule nervous standing there. The black-skinned females on the other hand, intrigued him so much that he forgot they were "women" per say and thus forgot his current anxiety about women in general. He let out a sigh, nodding, "An error in judgment, combined with a new Lord Marshall. I broke my oath to never harm a citizen without proven due cause. I'm not the first, I doubt I'll be the last, but the new command was in the mood to make a clean sweep." Mule said straight-faced, looking back at Raydin, "Bad timing as I'd just gotten back on active duty, but uh, once you�re charged with breaking that oath, only Her Majesty can reinstate you." Then he chuckled harshly, "Which is alright by me; I've no interest getting back with that pack of spineless half-souls." Raydin waved his hand to grasp the bottle of wine, pouring a glass for Mule and then filling his own glass, he then slid Mule's glass towards him, nodding, "I see and what are your interests now?" His eyes sparkled devilishly at mention of the Queen. Mort made his own way to the table finally and then sat down at Mule's left. Mule didn't notice the glint as he focused on the wine in that moment and as Mort sat down, Mule seemed to relax even further as he took a sip, "Well...quite simple really. I'm going to kill every single one of the bastards that kidnapped and tortured me for two weeks." Raydin nodded, "And I presume whom you speak of are the amateurs the Wyverns...?" He tilted his head inquiring, "I have no dealings with them if that is what you're wondering, I doubt that I would. They are just troublemakers who are clueless in trying to make a point, and destined to be killed with how they show themselves off." Mule nodded, "I didn't think a solid establishment like yours did, but I'd like to purchase some information on their two leaders. As clueless as the body may be, there are two heads, who are rather elusive, directing their actions." Raydin nodded as he looked toward one of the females. She then stood and moved off to the back of the room, and then through the north exit. Raydin then looked at Mule and smiled softly, "Alright, how detailed do you want, names, locations, what they had to break their fast..." Mule watched the female walk off as he took another sip. The wine tasted a bit funny to him, but he didn't realize that the wine was fine; it was his taste buds that were used to something else. He glanced to Mort as Raydin spoke, then back to Raydin, "I have their names. I'd like to know where they reside and if they have any family here on the Isles." That's it. The rest they could do themselves. "But one of the leaders is a wizard...which is why I don't just go asking around myself." Raydin chuckled softly and nodded, "I am sure you were informed on that, although I do not know right now who the current leaders of the Wyvern Raiders are, I can share this with you for free, the rest later will come at a cost." He smirked just watching for Mule�s reaction. "The two you speak of are quite dead at this moment." Mule watched Raydin steal the best lead he'd had with a few words. He set the glass down so as not to smash it in anger. Then he closed his eyes and buried his face in his hands, his fingers digging into his scalp. "Hounds of hellish nightmares...are you sure? And how are you sure?" Could this mean the raiders had disbanded and he would be without his revenge? "I am very sure, one of my contacts watched the exchange, they are very dead," Raydin smiled, "Note the gang's quietness lately, it is the new people taking a step into place, assuming the old contact's names and identities as a sort of cover...keeping the various cells very loyal to them." Mule groaned into his chest where his chin was buried. Then he took a deep breath, straightened and sighed, "Well, then I'm sorry to waste your time. I'd place the order for supplies, but now I'm not sure when I'll need them." He stood up from the bench and began to reach into his pocket for the money purse, "Please consider something for seeing me..." Raydin tilted his head, "Why, the puppets have just be removed..." he furrowed his brow, "Lost your will or drive to fight?" Mule shook his head, opening the purse slightly, only to his gaze. Piss and moan, he'd only brought high denominations as he'd planned to drop quite a bit. He withdrew a single platinum coin (100 gold) and set it to the table. Folding the money purse again, he stated, "With all due respect, I need to come by some information independently otherwise...I'm the one who could easily have my strings pulled..." He hoped there was nothing insulting in what he said and that a businessman could recognize the value of his thoughts. Raydin looked down to the one platinum piece, he studied it for a moment and nodded, not picking it up. Such a small amount in his mind. He glanced back up, "Very well," he did look slightly insulted; they'd spent this time so far for a larger business and now it turned up yellow, the single coin nothing compared to the amount that could have been gained. "My people will escort you out." Mule was extremely disappointed, glancing between Mort and Raydin, catching the expression over the businessman�s features. Hells, the man had offered what he had for free and then he was pulling a face, likely at what opportunities were lost. He glanced at the woman who remained on the man's side, and then asked Raydin, "Unless you can suggest another possibility...?" He spread his hands outward to indicate he hadn't expected this and wasn't sure how to proceed. "You came seeking information and supplies, you found out your own information was incorrect. Wouldn't it make sense to continue to seek information, especially more so now that you know less now then when you walked in?" Mule smirked, "Easy for you to say, you're not the one seeking something...and somehow I doubt all the money in the country would guarantee you not to sell me out to another bidder. Excuse me for being a bit skeptical, but I've not had many trusting experiences. If I gather all my information from one source, that places me a bit at a disadvantage, don't you think?" He glanced down to Mort who remained seated. "This is a matter of lives and deaths, something you all deal with at close range I gather. So maybe you can understand for a moment that I need to be absolutely certain of the information that is given. What type of guarantee can you give me?" Raydin looked outraged he stood up, "You question the honor and integrity of the clan!? When we sell to a contractor, we remain loyal to that one, to do otherwise would be a violation of the clans and a lack of honor." The woman at his side closed her eyes and laid the book on the table. Mort looked at Mule warily. The man had chosen the wrong words to say, as usual. He looked to Raydin, "Please pardon my friend�s ignorance to the ways of the cast Raydin, he does not understand." Mule glanced back and forth between Raydin and Mort, "No I don't understand. I don't know anything about your group, your family, your organization. But I know a bit about business. Usually when two people make an agreement, there's an understanding that they won't cross each other. All I'm asking for is assurance that exists here...you're right; I now have less information than when I came in. And you're right, I need your information. But I need more than that in order to do business." He sighed, "I apologize. I didn't mean to offend your honor or your code of ethics. Please realize that there aren't many left in the realm who stand by their word." Raydin nodded once. "When the clans enter a treaty with an individual, we form and create a contract, we do not break it, and we expect our contract not to be broken as well. We will go after our contract if it is broken," he looked around the room slowly, "and the cast member that is the one to break their word with a contract, loses all authority over those under him, he or she essentially becomes the low rank of the cast...to be used by the others." Mule rubbed the back of his neck as he often did when he felt uncomfortable. He sighed, glancing to Mort for confirmation of the thoughts spoken. Then he paced a bit, turning after two steps, thinking, "Alright. What are the terms of the contract for information?" Mort nodded silently in confirmation to all of this. Raydin was speaking the truth to them, which is why Mort wasn't instantly attacked for being a former clan member; there was the utmost respect involved. "The terms we set...I will not speak the information to your enemy, nor anyone else for that matter, what we know is between you and my clan. We will need a deposit first up, a small amount to show you are willing to do your half, say 500 gold, and then upon each peace of information, we will barter a price." Mule cleared his throat, "Fine." He then pulled out his money purse again without hesitation and set down five more platinum coins to the table. Raydin nodded as he looked at Mule, "When we get some information, how shall we contact you?" Mule glanced from Raydin to Mort, "I trust this man implicitly, as you do...if he agrees, why not have him be the contact point?" He hoped Mort would agree but if he wished not to, it'd be all right. Mort merely inclined his head to them both in agreement. So instead of gaining information, Mule and the Midnight Gryphons had to wait. Lacking the patience a sane man carried, Mule would not wait easily. *~...give me something I can hold give me something to believe in I am frightened for my soul...~* (End Part One) -- To unsubscribe from this group, send an email to: [EMAIL PROTECTED] Archives & Other DMI Lists: http://islesofmyst.com/lists.php3
