D&D - Sword Coast - Sorscha meets Arman

[illumination]

Following a day of recuperation and putting your house in order, you meet Saamech as arranged outside the 'Wyvern' that evening. He smiles, opening the door to the narrow building and you step down inside. A long narrow tap room extends infront of you, lit by lanterns in the gloom. No-one is in here it seems, except a single figure sitting down at the very far end. By his frame, it could only be the warrior you seek...

((ok guys, include accurate descriptions in your first posts please.

[^^Truth]

Arman sits by himself brooding in the gloom, the flickering of the lanterns creating shifting shadows across him and his table. Upon the table sits a brown ceramic jug, a shorter tan tankard and a curved small blade, it's surface chipped from years of use.

He'd likely be over six foot tall were he standing, but he is definitely close to two-hundred pounds of bone, flesh and muscle.

His cheeks seem to be pierced with many golden hoops that run towards his lips. His left eyebrow and nostril hold golden hoops and link with a thin golden chain. His eyes are dark and beady. He wears a fist length black beard that appears to be mostly uncared for, his head wrapped multiple times with a long black cloth, concealing his hair.

At the moment, his form is cloaked beneath a persian-styled black robe. Very loose with multiple layers hanging over each other. The robe however is rigidly bulked up around the chest, shoulders, forearms and legs suggesting some form of armour, likely light, is being worn underneath.

Sitting at easy reach besides him is a black cloth sack which appears mostly empty except that several javelins protrude from the top of the bag.

Upon noticing the figure in the doorway, which is almost instantly, he stands in silence, holding his hands outwards in a motion that would be welcoming, were it not for his cold look and the shifting blackness that conceals his face just at that moment.

With a single step forwards he places both hands on the back of the chair and lifts it about a foot backwards, away from the table, before sinking down into the chair he previously occupied.

With one hand he motions towards the chair, whilst nodding at a solitary woman behind the badly stocked bar and raises a singer digit to her.

The woman doesn't break her causal, disinterested demeanor as she searches for a clean cup.

[The Dark Power]

Sorscha walks in, a quiet confidence in her stride that one would not associate with someone so slight of build.

Giving a slight bow, she sits in the proffered chair and sets her helmet on the table, her long auburn hair falling don her shoulders, suddenly softening her features.

Sorscha would be attractive if not for a somewhat grim look. Faint traces of scars criss-cross her fair features betraying a life of hardship, perhaps not too unfamiliar to many in the Realms. Her clothes comprise flowing black cotton trousers and shirt over which a suit of chainmail sits.

A quiver of arrows sits on her back along with a longbow and shield. The sword at her side is cruelly curved with hooked barbs on the inward side.

She smiles sweetly;

'Well met, I am Sorscha of the Far Hills, loyal servant of Bane, God of Tyranny, Lord of Strife. The church charges me with a service to honour the Dread Lord and our mutual friend Saamech tells me you are a warrior of some renown who's services we may perhaps enlist.....'

[^^Truth]

Arman sits in silence, still in his chair, studying the facial features of Sorscha, allowing several long seconds to pass.

"I know who Bane is, and I know who you are" he says in a husky arabic tone.

He leans back slightly, as the woman from the bar places an empty ceramic cup on the table with only a slightest nod of acknowledgement, before he reaches forwards and pours wine from the jug in to his tankard and the newly arrived cup.

"Saamech isn't my friend, I am.. still deciding who is.. and is not.. but well met, as you say, I am Arman, but let us get to business" he says smokerly, before picking up his tankard and sipping long on the rough wine.

"You want me to help you rob a temple of Selune, that I am not opposed to, as long as the conditions are most agreeable.."

"Three shares of treasure I get" he states, before pausing to sip from his tankard again.

"Why should I get three? Well, you are lacking a warrior, that I am and willing to undertake this murderous task, secondly, I know where the shrine is, I have been there and studied it, I know the watch patterns of the guard, the sentries they have, how to get inside and a good estimate of numbers we would face, along with weaponry and armour expected..." he pauses to allow that to sink in, before holding up a hand to Sorscha to allow him to continue.

"As for the citywatch, I can arrange for there to be a distraction, that will cost perhaps, but I will be willing to cover those costs myself, assuming I get my three shares, also, should things indeed turn bad, I happen to know someone in the citywatch which may help, if not evade capture, then ecape possilble confinement."

"Lastly, I already have a formulated plan to attack the temple and releave it of it's valueables and the gem you seek, that will be finalised when I finally lay eyes on the rest of your companions, perhaps most importantly however, I will guarantee your survival during the attack, not your companions, just yours." he says in his deep throaty arabic tone, motioning across the table at Sorscha with a single finger.

"As for the two other small tasks. Firstly I require that you heal myself, or have myself healed, back to full health within one week of the task and secondly, I have lost something close by that I cannot find without magics, you will agree to help me in my search, whether that is with your own magics or directing me to someone that can help.. that aside, I would shine great favour upon whomever helps me find what I have lost anyway."

Arman sits back briefly, studying Sorscha's features again for a moment, before speaking again.

"Well, if you agree to my terms, my three shares, for all of the above help and information, then just swear on Bane's blackheart and we can prepare immediately... to beat your rival cleric...." he says with a thin smile, betraying one last piece of information.

[illumination]

Saamech leans disinterestedly near the doorway, picking his nails with a shiny new dagger, ostensibly out of earshot.

You both remain alone and undisturbed in here.

[The Dark Power]

Sorscha nods and leans forward speaking quietly,

'Well said Arman, you offer much and the price you ask is fair. However, a deal has already been struck. Whatever items of value that abound at the temple of the Moon Goddess are to be split equally amongst all those present. This includes a valuable golden statue held by my Master as well as whatever we might find at our destination, less reporations for the loss of some undead minions to one of our number.

I cannot offer you three shares as that would mean losing two of our numbers help in our quest.

I will therefore make you my own offer. Aid us in our quest to the temple and accept equal share as I have described. In additional payment I shall offer you this;

Seeing the return of the Gem to the church of Bane willl honour the Dread Lord greatly. See that I am able return
it with no interference from any of our number who may be tempted by it's great beauty and you shall earn the gratitude of Bane. For this battle your wounds shall be healed as well as I am able. Additionally for the next ten battles in which you are injured you will find the Dark Lords blessing and your wounds shall be healed.

Further, not only will I aid you in seeking what you have lost, I shall personally accompany you into danger in search of it, should you require it.

[^^Truth]

Arman nods slowly, listening and considering.

"I accept the deal you have laid down, but let me say this before we toast and finalise the deal.." he says sipping his wine.

"Being a pact honouring Banite, surely your companions will accept you to split the coins equally? If five of us make a thousand gold, then you count it out as if there was eight of us and I recieve three, in private, I will vouch your trust and attempt to do my best to allow the others to let you sort out the coinage.. perhaps an extra share for yourself as well? Being the leader.."

"For a single share, I will not provide a gaurantee on your safety, so it is your choice to make whether your life or the amount of gold your companions recieve is more valuable..."

"Also..." he begins with a dark smile

"How about I throw in a free assassination of your rival cleric, should he survive this night?"

Arman sits back with a satisfied smile across his pierced faced and sips his wine.

"So, do we toast my one share or my three?"

[The Dark Power]

Alas my companions would likely spot such a deception, and I've a feeling they'll be eyeing any gold with greater vigilance than we ordinarily might expect.

I have no wish to double cross them as I see a lasting working relationship here, and should we require your services in the future I would wish you to know me as someone who means what she says.

I thank you for your offer though, I would certainly feel safer with my opponent eliminated, but I shall have to put my trust in the Dread Lord.

I do not ask for your blade in defense of the Gem, only your voice on my side in any dispute. I'm sure everyone will respect Bane's prize, but should anyone's greed get the better of them I do not want the wrath of the church brought down upon me as I'm sure you do not.

So, you shall aid us then in the attack on the temple and Bane will bless you with good health for this battle and for ten more hence. In addition my aid is given on your quest when you deem it necessary'.

Sorscha raises her glass and waits for Arman's response.

[^^Truth]

Arman nods and taps tankards.

"Done.." he says somewhat regretfully.

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