But Essek was none the wiser, his mind caught in the throws of what he had done, his crimes, and when they would catch up with him. The Bright Queen hadn’t yet, but that was a matter of time; there were rumors, suspicions on why the great Shadowhand was all the way up in Eiselcross at a frozen outpost. There were hints of magical anomalies, of relics, and that was the cover that would work for now, but how long could that truly last?
When the notice arrived that people were here and were hurt, he made certain to have his soldiers with him to interrogate them. The tiefling was…interesting, covered in blood but with something about him, and he looked to the hafling and the tabaxi over his shoulder.
The anxiety settled into him as he stared silently between them. If an assassin wanted, it would be wise to pretend to be hurt, bleeding to be allowed closeness to the target, making it easy to strike. Essek looked to the tiefling, then the others, before his nearest soldier.
“Take them to a room and find some supplies. Bring him to my meeting quarters.”
He didn’t have to add to have invisible soldiers should be in both areas, carefully observing. Essek wasn’t a fool.
As it would happen, the Tombtakers had no idea who this Shadowhand fella was, just some pompous looking Wizard for all they could tell. Sure, they assumed he must have been important to have his troops set up in this remote outpost and all. But Lucien was in for a treat, should he find out just how powerful and connected this Drow was.
When the guards nodded under Essek's orders, Lucien spoke directly with both Cree and Otis telepathically. Instructing them to play along, keep an open channel and act as oblivious and innocent as needed to survive, don't do anything that would have them rising suspicions, and leave the rest to their leader.
Of course, he wanted to have Lucien brought to his meeting quarters, why wouldn't he? This was all so very sudden and random was it not? Lucien would want to interrogate him too had the shoe been on the other foot, then again, he had his ways. As for those invisible soldiers, well... They weren't as invisible as Essek might have liked them to be. Lucien's eyes were all-seeing and he was sure to inform the other two of their presence as they were escorted away.
Playing the grateful rescued party, the Tiefling nodded and thanked the mighty Shadowhand for giving them refuge and was merrily sent on his way to the agreed chamber. While in there, admittedly not alone of course, he tended to his wounds and acted as the injured, tired traveler. First-class performance, top actor don't you know.
Essek let him stew in the room. He made no rush to join this stranger in here, hoping that the pressure of silence and waiting would rattle mistakes loose. It worked surprisingly well on most prisoners.
Who was he? In all the places of Wildemount, why was he here? This outpost was forgotten in the winter wastes, as it should have been, and to have someone here, bloodied, asking for help…
It felt wrong. It felt all wrong.
Essek left him in there for an hour before he swept into the room, his face controlled, even, the mask of the Shadowhand. He took a seat, not bothering to hide the black marble in his hand, rolling it between his fingers. Dark eyes followed this stranger, watching every move, every piece of him that was out of place and curious.
“What is your name? And the names of your companions? How did you come to be here?”
This technique, of separating them, of letting the leader stew on his own for an unforeseen amount of time, while it might have worked on others, all it did for Lucien was tell him what kind of a man this Shadowhand was. There was a constant line of open communication between himself and his Tombtakers, Lucien was already listening to their conversations, watching through Cree's eyes as the guards spoke to them. He was confidently one step ahead.
Whereas it might have felt wrong, having strangers stumble upon Essek's hideout, he should be aware of the excavations that were often afoot in other various parts of the mountains and wastes, Lucien was confident that his story would make perfect sense when asked. There was no sweat, no worry, just a cunning plan to stock up on supplies and warm bodies with a multitude of skills and magic. The potential was endless.
Now then, that little black marble has the Tiefling curious, he likes rare trinkets and this one must be some kind of special if the Drow was fiddling with it, he didn't seem the type to play with toys after all.
"Ah, thank you kindly for taking us in. My name is Lucien and ya might have just saved me and my family, we're in your debt." Looking relieved as he spoke, wringing his hands before nodding his head in thanks a few times, hoping that he came across as grateful and exhausted more than anything else.
One answer. It was one answer when Essek asked several questions. He noticed that, this vagueness. There was a wonder if his soldiers were getting better results, but there would be time for that in the debriefing after.
“A debt is meaningless if you are not useful to us,” he said calmly, low, quiet. It was the Shadowhand speaking, even if he days of having that title were numbered. “And we cannot determine if you are useful if you do not tell us everything. So, I will repeat myself: what are the names of your companions and how did you come to be here?”
Essek sat up a little straighter in his chair, rolling the marble over his fingers once more. He wanted to read this man’s face, a face that seemed tired, that seemed grateful and chilled, but it…it was too convenient, easy. There was something he was his missing, and he only hoped it wasn’t an assassin’s blade.
“I would like to know everything, and we certainly have the time to hear it. If you have not noticed, there is little to do here in Eiselcross than talk, read, and avoid the wildlife.”
Lucien was smart, he might not have looked it, smiling like a fool, acting more like a fragment of himself than his true self. But that was just it, it was an act. As Essek watched for his expression, he too watched for the Drow's, trying to determine what his next move might be.
"Oh, I assure you, after a little rest and some food maybe, I can be as useful as ya need me to be, sir. Heck, even my family ya got back there, we got clerics and all sorts! Even found some scrolls- though those were back at the camp, not that they're any use to us of course, ya more than welcome to them!" Playing innocent and helpful, he can pull it off too, what with his charming smile and all. "Oh, sorry about that, I never meant for ya to have to repeat yourself, I'm just so exhausted, I'm hardly concentrating." Taking a breath and rubbing at his eyes before continuing. "Well, there's Cree and Otis. We lost sight of Zoran and Tyffial during the snowstorm a few hours ago, probably frozen out in the ice somewhere... Rest their souls..."
Sitting down as he gathered his hands at his chest, looking melancholy as if he'd actually lost part of his party. Nodding before looking back up at the Drow. "That's right, we have plenty of time. It's a funny thing, isn't it? Time that is. Seems like when it's running out ya never have enough of it and yet when everything is all over, well, just like now I guess. Got so much of it we don't know what to do with the stuff."
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concentrated_dick) wrote2022-02-06 05:56 pm
no subject
But Essek was none the wiser, his mind caught in the throws of what he had done, his crimes, and when they would catch up with him. The Bright Queen hadn’t yet, but that was a matter of time; there were rumors, suspicions on why the great Shadowhand was all the way up in Eiselcross at a frozen outpost. There were hints of magical anomalies, of relics, and that was the cover that would work for now, but how long could that truly last?
When the notice arrived that people were here and were hurt, he made certain to have his soldiers with him to interrogate them. The tiefling was…interesting, covered in blood but with something about him, and he looked to the hafling and the tabaxi over his shoulder.
The anxiety settled into him as he stared silently between them. If an assassin wanted, it would be wise to pretend to be hurt, bleeding to be allowed closeness to the target, making it easy to strike. Essek looked to the tiefling, then the others, before his nearest soldier.
“Take them to a room and find some supplies. Bring him to my meeting quarters.”
He didn’t have to add to have invisible soldiers should be in both areas, carefully observing. Essek wasn’t a fool.
no subject
As it would happen, the Tombtakers had no idea who this Shadowhand fella was, just some pompous looking Wizard for all they could tell. Sure, they assumed he must have been important to have his troops set up in this remote outpost and all. But Lucien was in for a treat, should he find out just how powerful and connected this Drow was.
When the guards nodded under Essek's orders, Lucien spoke directly with both Cree and Otis telepathically. Instructing them to play along, keep an open channel and act as oblivious and innocent as needed to survive, don't do anything that would have them rising suspicions, and leave the rest to their leader.
Of course, he wanted to have Lucien brought to his meeting quarters, why wouldn't he? This was all so very sudden and random was it not? Lucien would want to interrogate him too had the shoe been on the other foot, then again, he had his ways. As for those invisible soldiers, well... They weren't as invisible as Essek might have liked them to be. Lucien's eyes were all-seeing and he was sure to inform the other two of their presence as they were escorted away.
Playing the grateful rescued party, the Tiefling nodded and thanked the mighty Shadowhand for giving them refuge and was merrily sent on his way to the agreed chamber. While in there, admittedly not alone of course, he tended to his wounds and acted as the injured, tired traveler. First-class performance, top actor don't you know.
no subject
Who was he? In all the places of Wildemount, why was he here? This outpost was forgotten in the winter wastes, as it should have been, and to have someone here, bloodied, asking for help…
It felt wrong. It felt all wrong.
Essek left him in there for an hour before he swept into the room, his face controlled, even, the mask of the Shadowhand. He took a seat, not bothering to hide the black marble in his hand, rolling it between his fingers. Dark eyes followed this stranger, watching every move, every piece of him that was out of place and curious.
“What is your name? And the names of your companions? How did you come to be here?”
no subject
Whereas it might have felt wrong, having strangers stumble upon Essek's hideout, he should be aware of the excavations that were often afoot in other various parts of the mountains and wastes, Lucien was confident that his story would make perfect sense when asked. There was no sweat, no worry, just a cunning plan to stock up on supplies and warm bodies with a multitude of skills and magic. The potential was endless.
Now then, that little black marble has the Tiefling curious, he likes rare trinkets and this one must be some kind of special if the Drow was fiddling with it, he didn't seem the type to play with toys after all.
"Ah, thank you kindly for taking us in. My name is Lucien and ya might have just saved me and my family, we're in your debt." Looking relieved as he spoke, wringing his hands before nodding his head in thanks a few times, hoping that he came across as grateful and exhausted more than anything else.
no subject
“A debt is meaningless if you are not useful to us,” he said calmly, low, quiet. It was the Shadowhand speaking, even if he days of having that title were numbered. “And we cannot determine if you are useful if you do not tell us everything. So, I will repeat myself: what are the names of your companions and how did you come to be here?”
Essek sat up a little straighter in his chair, rolling the marble over his fingers once more. He wanted to read this man’s face, a face that seemed tired, that seemed grateful and chilled, but it…it was too convenient, easy. There was something he was his missing, and he only hoped it wasn’t an assassin’s blade.
“I would like to know everything, and we certainly have the time to hear it. If you have not noticed, there is little to do here in Eiselcross than talk, read, and avoid the wildlife.”
no subject
"Oh, I assure you, after a little rest and some food maybe, I can be as useful as ya need me to be, sir. Heck, even my family ya got back there, we got clerics and all sorts! Even found some scrolls- though those were back at the camp, not that they're any use to us of course, ya more than welcome to them!" Playing innocent and helpful, he can pull it off too, what with his charming smile and all. "Oh, sorry about that, I never meant for ya to have to repeat yourself, I'm just so exhausted, I'm hardly concentrating." Taking a breath and rubbing at his eyes before continuing. "Well, there's Cree and Otis. We lost sight of Zoran and Tyffial during the snowstorm a few hours ago, probably frozen out in the ice somewhere... Rest their souls..."
Sitting down as he gathered his hands at his chest, looking melancholy as if he'd actually lost part of his party. Nodding before looking back up at the Drow. "That's right, we have plenty of time. It's a funny thing, isn't it? Time that is. Seems like when it's running out ya never have enough of it and yet when everything is all over, well, just like now I guess. Got so much of it we don't know what to do with the stuff."