Café de Nuit

He purposefully made noise as he approached the clearing and appointed rendezvous point. I presume she shan’t be happy with my findings. Alas I can’t please everyone, now can I. Finrod smiled to himself as he approached the destined rendezvous point. Purposefully walking noisily, he breathed in the fresh forest air. Ahead he heard the rustle of leaves, the telltale sound of feet and paws on the forest floor. He grinned. Trying to be silent but my ears betray you, lycanthropics.

“Who goes there” a guttural voice asks.

“It is I, Finrod Calrogan. The missus expects me. Do tell her I have arrived.”

No response as he heard steps jog off. There were others present, trying valiantly to hide their presence. Finrod hadn’t the heart, not the patience to reveal he knew them present. Rustling and movement in the brush alerted him to the return of the representative.

“Follow us. She wishes an audience with you.”

Finrod sighed inwardly. The ever powerful Mother Fury desires my presence. I shan’t disappoint her. Egads how I hate lycanthropes!

Finrod does indeed follow the messengers, calm and his wits about him. Nearly twenty minutes later, they enter a clearing and there before him is Mother Fury in all her self induced glory. Loup Garous all around her, she sits on a makeshift throne. Her eyes follow Finrod’s every move, keeping him in her sight the whole time.

“Come forth, elf.”

Finrod does indeed proceed forth, standing before her.

“How was your journey?”

“It went as well as can be expected, Madam.”

“And the party and their leader?”

“I did as instructed, the shapechangers from Paridon were hired. I left it at that, as their reputation precedes them.” Finrod offered, knowing full well the results but omitting to mention that to the Loup Garou leader.

“Very well. The leader was taken by the dopplegangers and taken care of?”

“From what I have heard, yes, he was taken care of. A minor task for seven shapechangers you must agree.”

“Yes. I am pleased. This concludes our business. Mudina will see you rewarded for your services. I will contact you in the future if I have need of your services, Finrod. Dismissed. Mudina, see to the elf’s payment.”


Finrod nodded to Mother Fury. Looking at Mudina he acknowledged her. “Follow me.” Was all she said. He did. Thirty feet away he was greeted by more Loup Garous who ogled him in hunger. No matter, I’ll get my fee and be off. More profits await. Sithicus sure does seem a long way off. He ignored the lycanthropes as Mudina handed him a pouch and after testing it’s weight, he walked away. Careful as not to startle anyone, Finrod hurried away from the Loup Garou’s and headed in the direction of Harmonia. Many days passed. He was sure noone had followed him. He did backtrack many times making sure no lycans followed. It was a painstaking few days as he had to retravel his route in order to trick the following lycans. He made it to Harmonia with no lycans on his tail, thanks to his ingenuity and clever thinking. Also these clever boots he’d acquired hid his scent quite nicely.

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Striding with confidence, he approached the Old Kartakan Inn. The beauty of the waterfall almost over the Inn and the Inn itself never ceased to amaze Finrod. Breathtaking. Not many sights like this in these horrific lands, Finrod thinks to himself. Entering the Inn, he passed through the main entryway and headed for the dining room. This is where he would meet with the legendary bard. Why he wants me to gather this information and proceed in the manner I have, is beyond me. The gold is more than enough to compensate for any interrogations I may have, I suppose. Never misjudge a Bard, it could be your last um.... misjudgement... yes I am going to tread very carfefully with the Bard of Kartakass.

Sitting at a table, he awaited for a host to approach him. One did and ne smiled at him. “I desire a meal and perhaps you have had the fortune of seeing the bard of Kartakass, Mr Lukas this day kind sir?”

“No I haven’t. But I do know he is expected later. If you are patient, you’ll see him in due course, kind sir” the host says as Finrod slides him exactly three silver pieces and raps the table four times then once and four again discreetly. “Well, please do let me know if and when he arrives.” Finrod sits back as the host departs for other customers. I gather Mr Lukas will be in later. It is yet early and I am positive he sleeps the sleep of the dead. I can smell the wolf on him. Not a lycan but another sort. No matter, he pays well and that is all that matters of course!”

Over the course of the morning and early afternoon, Finrod bides his time. Eating lightly, and enjoying a pint of Meekelbrau[sp] very slowly so as not to addle his mind. Very tart drink, that. An acquired taste by most Harmonians and I presume, Bards. Supposedly it loosens the vocal chords if my information is correct. Good for the contests I suppose. After the diner hour, Finrod is enjoying a hot drink when the Bard of Kartakass enters the dining room. Lukas doesn’t even hesitate a moment and heads for Finrods table. Bowing deeply he smiles grandly, then sits without an invitation. “How went your trip, friend elf?”

“Successful. That matter we discussed previously has been taken care of. The bitch thinks that the dark one is taken care of. I know differently. The dopplegangers were very lackadaisical in the duties for her. He is a formidable opponent, this one. He took care of the seven, went back to the temple and caught up with the party. Why they head here is beyond me.”

“Don’t trouble yourself with this. You job is done and Joseph will see you are well paid, elf. Now do describe to me the party and this dark elf.”

“Well the party consists of a dwarf and humans. One is a mage, the dwarf a priest. Two are rogues if I judged them right. Something is not quite right with one of the rogues. I am not sure, but I think he may be under a strong enchantment. The last member is both a priest and a mage. The dark elf is a completely different story. He fights with two elvish blades and really knows how to use them. I judge him to be a fighter but he has been perhaps an assassin or rogue in the past. His movements and comportment tell me so. As you well know, I am rarely wrong, Bard.”

The monocled, feather hat porting man considered Finrod’s words. “You’ve done well as always. See Joseph in the morning and he’ll reward you your usual fee. I have business to attend to. This evening you stay here on me. Have a pleasant evening and until next time.” He tipped his hat at the elf and wandered off into the Inn without a further glance back.

After having had a nice meal and relaxing, the party retires for the evening. The next morning you pack up and head past the castle, finally and make it to the border of Hazlan and Kartakass. Finally your goal seems closer! No wall of fog blocks your way, though you've heard tales of other nastier walls from other places and are glad for an easy passage. Tarlyn leads you you from the plains of Hazlan into the deep forest of Kartakass.

One thing that strikes you as odd is though it is day, it is very quiet in the forest. Not an animal or beast stirs. "We are near Kuhl. We head there for the moment. Then we travel a few days to Pel. There we will meet my friend Pietro Ovonovich. He is a good man and a lumberjack. He helped me when I first arrived here in these lands." Tarlyn offers to the others but keeps quiet, focused on the task of arriving safely to Kuhl alive. "I should warn you. There are many lycanthropes here so it is best we arrive in Kuhl before nightfall." With that he urged his horse forward and after an hour or so you came upon a main road.

You followed it and Tarlyn stopped at the lunch hour, so both you and the horses could rest and eat.

''I hear these Kartakass folk are fine singers, Van. Good brewers by mannish measure, too. Hope we get to sample both, eh?''

Cornelius seems to be in a cheerful mood as the party travels along.

"Yes? I didn't know that. I hope you are right Cornelius, I have never been to Kartakass, but I do hope the peolpe there to be more friendly to strangers. Has you noticed, at every inn we get we have problem..." Says Van and sighs as remembers the attidute both innkeepers and people had towards them.

VAN wrote:"Has you noticed, at every inn we get we have problem..." Says Van and sighs as remembers the attidute both innkeepers and people had towards them.

William perks up a bit and smiles at this comment.

Jacob frowns at Van's comment. "What do you mean by that, Van? Aren't Innkeepers a friendly sort? After all, they do take your money and you are the reason they keep open, no?"

tarlyn wrote:Jacob frowns at Van's comment. "What do you mean by that, Van? Aren't Innkeepers a friendly sort? After all, they do take your money and you are the reason they keep open, no?"

William openly laughs at the comment made by Jacob.
"Aye, it would seem that way, wouldn't it? The fact of the matter is that we have been subject to some of the most sorry of innkeepers." He laughs a bit more and with a light hearted sigh continues.
"in my opinion, sleepin' under the light of the moon in the freezin rain seems a wee bit more hospitable than some of the so called innkeepers we have come across. Why we had to threaten one that I recall just to get a decent rate."

"That doesn't seem right to me. I am hoping that at our first Inn we have friendly hospitality. Truly, Innkeepers should be a polite lot. Keep faith , I'll try to sooth any crusty or ill tempered Innkeeper, friends." Jacob doesn't quite understand yet the lands.

Lucius smiles a bit then turns to Jacob.

"Ah, perhaps it is different in your land, but people here are quite suspicious of strangers. And if you think you'll be able to put on a good word in our stead to the innkeeper, remember that we reacted with reservations to you when we saw you at first. For the colour of your skin, no doubt, but because of your race too. There are not many elves around, much less of the dark kind, and people get immediately suspicious, even moreso some landlord in a forgotten village that likes to know everyone he gathers under his roof... or better, to have known everyone so for at least some years...

These are racist and xenophobic lands we're traversing, and the worse the more we stay farther from the sea or trade routes."

''Lucius is right, Jacob. There aren't many countries that welcome non-humans, be they elves, dwarves, or gnomes. Only in my own homeland of Darkon are most folk free of such prejudices. ''

Draven nibbles absently on his ration, he has little appetitie these days, and what he can eat rarley stays down for long. He carefully wraps the remaninder up and places it back in his pack with a frown.

Yet the sun is shining brightly in this small clearing they have chosen to rest in, its light warming the long grass and takign away some of the foreboding of the trees surrounding them. Lying back for a moment he closes his eyes in the warm air and listens to the conversation around him, smiling slightly at the memory of Williams response to the rudeness of Nova Naasan Inn Keepers.

Suddenly he feels tired, so very tired, the sleep of days seems to catch up on him all at once. Its is a relief finally to be able to sleep and not worry about.... well by the time that thought enters his head, sleep has already taken him and he dozes gently on the grass.

He dreams of mist, swirling and playing about him as he walks a lonely road, strikingly similar to the one they now travel. The fog is grey and dank and cuts off all sight and sound beyond the edge of the path and more than a few feet ahead. Slowly he walks, certain the path will lead somewhere. Nothign visual changes yet he is aware of a warming of the air, of a dampness not as before, rather fresh and alive, and the smell of exotic blossoms on the still air.

Slowly the mists part showing him a forest, but a forest unlike any he has seen before or have I? he ponders. The trees rise far above Draven twisting in exotic shapes and almost blocking the sun, yet in the distance he can see a range fo mountains, rising above the blanket of this strange forest, and above them still storm clouds brew on the horizon.

Suddenly in a flash of lightning he is no longer in the strange familiar forest bu is in a dark place, he can smell smoke with a strange essence, and there is little light except for two lights burning like emeralds above him, they move closer, they are not lights but rather glittering eyes! Then all goies black.

So you seek answers now weak one?

The voice reverberates inside his head, comiong from all directiosn at once with the same rasping quality as before.

"No, you cannot be here, I took...."

The voice chuckles "You believe your paltry drugs can hold me back should I desire to be free? You are indeed weak and foolish."

Draven pales at this revelation, but then if the morphine doesnt keep it at bay what does?.....

The chuickle continues building into an almost maniacal laugh beofr esubsiding slightly. "I will tell you a secret weak one, it is the nature of my prison that keeps me dormant, it is a cleverly designed torment that has been inflicted on us both. Unfortunatly there is but one way to end this arrangement, when your soul becomes mine for all eternity!" The laughter continues.

Something inside Draven snaps, the core of strength he found before returns and he shouts "If my soul is your prize come and claim it! You could not before and I challenge you to do it now. Come! Show yourself, I know your name Pit Fiend! Face me vile creature of evil!"

The laughter dies, and Draven feels a presence pushing at the edges of his conciosuness. The voice when it returns is cold and full of malice.

"You presume much weak one, but you have no concept of the true nature of that which you label with your pitiful mortal term. I am evil, the true essence of evil and more, vastly more than you can scarely imagine. "

"I am pain, hatred, darkness and despair, and your pitiful soul is already forfeit as I free myself from this accursed prison she has inflicted on me!"

With that the darkness expands throughout his mind, shutting off everything....


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Draven twitches in his sleep as a shadow crosses the sun, the fleeting darkness mirrored in his features that have turned ashen in the light. Black eyes flick open as he raises himself awkwardly to a seated position. A rasping chuckle spilling from his lips as he looks around at each of you in turn, and there is nothing in that gaze except death.....

"Holy...!" William shouts as he stumbles backwards to his feet and to the ground again with a dry thud. Fumbling he frantically claws at his waistband to draw his pistol.

''GODS AND DEAD!''

Cornelius backs away from the transformed Draven as rapidly as he is able without turning his back on him.

Tarlyn stumbles back, unsheathing his blades. Jacob immediately begins casting a spell. Dropping a pinch of dust even as he casts , a wall of force erects between Draven and the rest of you. "Ye gods! So this is what happens?" he asks the rest of you, while keeping a wary eye on Alexander.

"Oh no..." Says Van as gets away from Draven. Then he pronounces some arcane words. "If we gonna fight at least do it well!" Says Van as he gets taller and becomes a troll.

Looking the rest of the group he says:

"Don't worry guys, it's always me. I have a total control of myself, but as a troll I'm better in close combat and still capable to cast spells!"

OOC> Polymorph.