Chapter the First: Six Degrees of Joachim Ebellos

[Murometz]

Abodroc, jewelled pride of the Ban-Ral-Sab, 1142 in the year of the Demiurge


Zuan Coursi

Two trade-priests were standing on the balcony of a manse over-looking the Six Cathedrals, the Tourmaline Dome and the Bridge of Duels, the three landmarks which dominated the city-scape. In the late afternoon sun, the city was awash in countless shades of russet, maroon, and gold.

Casting their gazes downwards, the trade-priests spied Zuan Coursi's new camel standing forty feet below, tethered to a post, replete with a precariously perched howdah upon its hump.

“Have you experience with these—things, Coursi?” asked one.

“Oh and thank you again for helping me negotiate this most lucrative of transactions today.” Joachim Ebellos added as he sipped from a goblet. “Your skills saved the day against those jackals from Rumms. They haggle like devils! I don’t know for certain that I would have been able to seal the deal alone. I haven’t been feeling myself lately, beneath the weather, Coursi.”

Ebellos took a breath and stared at the camel, sipping more from his seemingly ever-full goblet.

[Murometz]

Saano Dealonar

He sat and waited on a wood-woven bench in the garden-atrium of the man who had contacted an intermediary, wishing to procure his services. Moments ago a servant had rushed off to inform his employer that Saano Dealonar of the Midnight Guard had arrived at the prescribed time.

Around him, lush orchids of all shapes and sizes, bloomed in the dry heat. The scent of jasmine however was prevalent and  intoxicating.

Dealonar stared straight ahead counting the numerous colorful tiles forming the smooth wall which enclosed the peaceful garden. Something caught his eye and he focused on a section of the wall, where a few occult sigils of protection and symbols of luck had recently been scrawled, the paint still somewhat moist.

[Murometz]

Nisher, “Nish” Stryne

There was little more he could accomplish here seemingly, yet Nisher Stryne hesitated as he listened to the rhythmic sweeping of the dusty, stone floor inside the Spellwriter House, a modest two-story building like any other at the end of the Street of Warm Shadows. It served as the dwelling for a small group of like-minded practitioners of Spellwriting, a rarely seen form of magic here in the southern lands of the Ban-Ral-Sab. But now they had apparently all vanished.

The servant, who had earlier informed him that nary a spellwriter had been seen inside this house in almost two months, continued her work with stoicism ignoring the northerner as best as she could. Other than the sweeper and Nisher Stryne, nothing stirred inside the house, now completely devoid of even furniture.

The sturdy stone door to the Spellwriter House was ajar, casting a vaguely yellowish light on the foyer where Stryne stood. From without, the lush, lurid scents of Abodroc beckoned.

[Chaosmark]

Saano Dealonar, waiting in the garden

..11..12..13..

The fringes of a small assortment of sigils, crudely painted onto the wall, caught Saanos attention, interrupting his tally of the number of tile-columns comprising the surface of the atrium wall. They looked to be standard fare, the sort of thing a superstitious commoner would scrawl on the door of his home to banish a spirit of misfortune. Of course, from the looks of it, those sigils weren't going to do much against a strongly-thought imagination, much less an actual threat.

But then, that was probably why he was sitting here. One didn't contract a Guardian because the milk keeps spoiling. By the time a contract was purchased, chances were high someone had already been killed and buried. Breathing a small eulogy for the dead, Saano stood and walked over to get a closer look at the attempted ward. Perhaps it would give him some idea of what he would soon be facing.

[Dozus]

Zuan nodded, drinking from his own cup. "One becomes accustomed to beasts of burden after working the trade roads. They are at least reliable, generally." He frowned slightly. "Although this one seems particularly ill-tempered."

His lips curved into a small smile. "All worth it, of course, to fulfill your contract. Rummsiaat are invariably thieves, the whole lot of them. I am most pleased to have been of service in your search for profit." He made a bow, small enough to be informal but deep enough to show gratitude.

"I trust you will benefit well from this revenue that the Divine Broker has blessed, wealth be upon Him," he continued. "Would only that I too might benefit." He made a gentle wave of his hand, predicting Ebellos' objection. "No, I do not ask for any fee, dear brother. Only your support, as the support I have given you. I know that the House of Bursars must fill the late Valdeo Sonna's position in the spice route from here to Canagadi. You know the Bursars well, as I recall. Perhaps you can spread word of my profitable transactions here? Anything that might make clear my usefulness to them." His smile grew slightly wider. "It is not a great deal I ask for, my friend, but only that small favor. A fair trade for my assistance, wouldn't you say?"

[Shadoweagle]

"Useless bint..." Nisher muttered - intentionally loud enough for the insult to catch the ears of the servant, who huffed in an offended tone and began sweeping more furiously. Nisher had already been through this meager building, looking for any signs of the Spellwriters who not-so-long ago took residence. Not that Nisher often got along too well with many of his ilk; but it would have been nice to have a taste of familiarity in this alien city.

Musing to himself, Nisher ran a hand through his greasy hair, "I wonder what the Magistrate has tooOOAUGHCAFF...!!"  The ample dust raised by the servants exaggerated sweeps choked Nisher and caused him to double over, coughing. "Gah!" After catching his breath, the Spellwriter glared furiously at the woman until she took a few steps back and wisely began sweeping along the other side of the modest hall.

Nisher's right hand gently stroked the closed elaborate book in held by his left hand in a slightly obsessive manner, and he glanced to the door leading back to the Street of Warm Shadows. He did not particularly want to go back out into the glaring sunlight. He had been here only three days and already seven - SEVEN strangers had given him friendly 'Good day!'s and 'How d'you do!'s in the streets.

With an audible sigh and one last glare at the servant - who wisely kept her eyes on her work - Nish Styne steeled himself and pulled open the stone door of the former Spellwriter's 'outpost'. Perhaps the Magistrate could offer more information about this now-vacant building. Nish walked out the door and Abodroc swallowed him.

[Murometz]

zc

“Wealth be upon Him”, Ebellos muttered under his breath, then more audibly, “You should know that there are those who have their eye on that same trade route my friend. But yes. Yes of course! I will pour honey down the right Bursar throat on your behalf. It is the least I can do.”

He paused, as he spied someone approaching Zuan’s camel below. The beast was tethered right outside the walls of Ebellos estate, as the trade-priest was afraid the creature would eat his orchids if left inside the garden, and now it seemed a slight figure had paused to study the camel.

“It is indeed unfortunate what happened to Valdeo Sonna, and his widow, she is—difficult—to deal with”, Ebellos went on then was suddenly interrupted by a servant who slithered into the chamber and called out to the balcony…

”Don Ebellos, your afternoon appointment has arrived shall I send him in?”

“Uh-yes. Send him up Ronsalvo” then turning once more to Coursi, “My friend, there is someone I have to meet. Why don’t you join me tomorrow evening for dinner at the Seven Palms? I hear some of the Bursars will be there.” Ebellos smiled suggestively.
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sd

The wards of protection were painted with blood, Saano noticed immediately upon approaching the wall. If the gods were good he reasoned as he studied the scribbling, it would have come from a pig or rooster. The protective symbols did indeed seem basic, that is to say they were general wards against demons and devils, although one seemed specific enough, the ever-popular sun sigil, meant to burn away those creatures that bred and thrived in darkness. Though still, that didn’t tell Saano much.

Just then the servant returned and ushered the Midnight Guardsman to follow…

The servant seemed to be nervous as he ushered Saano inside, but that certainly wasn’t unusual. If you were ushering a Midnight Guardsman into a home, you were probably already in a permanent state of nervousness.

Through the archway, and up a long, stylish set of alabaster stairs into a wide open chamber with a high ceiling and several plush divans, they came. Bird cages hung everywhere suspended by slender chains, their inhabitants whistling, clacking, and chirping away.

“If you will wait here just a moment, Don Ebellos will join you. He is presently with a friend.” The servant said and left.

Again, Dealonar waited. This time the birds and the soothing sound of an inside fountain kept him company. Well, there was one other. One other he could always have a chat with if he wanted.
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ns

Nisher Stryne examined the humped creature as he rested from the hot sun, overbearing even into late afternoon here!  He had been walking through the city for several hours, overwhelmed by the smells, sights, and sounds. Abodroc was impressive, particularly the bizarre (to Nish) architecture. And the Grand Library he had passed! Stryne had heard of it even in his northern homeland. If scholars and monks were to be believed, there was in excess of half a million volumes housed in that building.

But the heat! The heat he could do without. Likewise annoying, was that Stryne soon learned that “The Magistrate” was in fact not one person. Indeed, there seemed to be thirty-six Magistrates in Abodroc, according to someone he questioned. Finally pointed to the right Magistrate, the one who would be responsible for all buildings along the Street of Warm Shadows, Stryne made his way to the right building only to be told it was closed for the day.

Aimless now, he made his way across a vast arched bridge which led to what looked like a posh residential neighborhood. Stryne paused to lean on a tree along-side a wall, surrounding what looked like a fancy estate of some rich man, and spied the creature.

The camel looked back at Nish, chewing something absentmindedly. No one was about.

[Chaosmark]

As soon as they entered the room, Saano could feel an intense focus on the caged birds in the back corners of his mind, like a child pulling a parent by the hand towards a sweets-shop. Well, there was really no helping it; some things never changed. At least have the patience to wait until the poor frightened man is gone, love. It would hardly do to seem more interested in the avian company than the approaching meeting.

The insistent tugging on his attention abated until the nervous servant left him there, presumably to go finish whatever tasks he'd been dragged from to handle the Guardians arrival, and immediately Saano moved over to the cages. The feeling of focus shifted into one of affection, and a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

Each of the large wire prisons was filled with multiple songbirds, all trilling away in an odd symphony of sound. His eye was caught by some species of lark, or so he presumed it was, and he held out a small handful of birdseed to it, plucked from a nearby stand. Rare was the chance to get a bird to eat from your hand, and he didn't want to pass it up. One had to take life a day at a time, and a day is comprised of the little things.

Besides, it wasn't like he had much else to do while waiting.

[Shadoweagle]

Wiping the sweat off his brow and spitting unceremoniously onto the ground, Nisher Stryne eyed the animal suspiciously. He had never seen a camel before, but had heard of them. Knobbly, walking watersacks with far too many knees. His eyes peeled back to the residence which the camel was secured out of - a lavish building of complete with unnecessary adornments. "Likely has ten servants to lick each toenail clean!" Nish scoffed to himself, giving himself a chuckle while looking around to see if anyone else had heard his 'wit'. The truth was, he was trying to hold on to his cynicism, as most things about Abodroc had indeed impressed him in his aimless walk. The people were too friendly and the weather was sickly-warm, but the architecture and especially the library he passed - he would have to give that a look sometime - was chipping away at his pessimism.

Nisher spied a couple of 'gents' conversing on the balcony of the manor, and felt their eyes pause over him before returning to their conversation. Well... clearly one of those was the camel-master! And they both seemed very well-off... Nisher itched his nose while he considered something, and then with a little smile to himself, he flipped the lock on his Spellwriter Tome and leafed the pages over. Stryne stroked the page he had paused on nervously and then, steeling himself, he placed each of his fingertips against the enchanted paper.

Nish suddenly felt cold and shivered slightly as he felt the transferrence of power from his coveted book into his own body, and the page began to glow slightly, the arcane runed on it vibrating and twisting before simply melting away, leaving a pristine, empty page in its wake.
To those looking on, Nisher Stryne will have simply faded to the background; in their heads becoming just something a little less important to notice.

A little, dizzying high running through him - as always happens when he casts this enchantment upon himself - Nish peered around nervously and then cautiously approached the camel, his eyes always on the beast, but his mind on the Howdah; it was time to see what these fancy folk kept in their stinking beasts.

[Dozus]

Zuan smiled and clasped his friend's arms. "That will do very well. You are a good friend, Joachim." He quickly kissed the man on both cheeks. "And a fine businessman. May your trade be ever prosperous!" He clapped the priest's shoulders before heading down the stairs into the villa.

Coursi wound his way through the residence, passing again through the bird menagerie - too gaudy even for him, and far too loud even if it did impress the locals. As he passed through the squawking room, his eyes caught a young man, waiting. Ebellos' guest, he presumed. As Zuan drew closer, he saw the man's simple, almost shabby clothes and disconcerting eye color. He was slightly taken aback, though far enough away to compose himself. He gave a curt nod as he passed the man, pondering what Ebellos would want with such a fellow.

The thought continued as he walked into the dim street, the cool evening breeze still blowing. Hezzab, his recent acquisition, greeted Zuan with a bray and bellow. "Quiet down, beast!" he called out. Coursi was surprised at how quickly he'd grown to dislike the ill-mannered animal. But as he grew closer and the camel's groans more insistent, Zuan grew more cautious. Something was wrong somehow. But what?

"Calm yourself, Hezzab," he said, louder than he would normally. He began to sift through the contents of the saddle bags beneath the howdah, one hand resting on the hilt of the jeweled dagger at his belt.

[Shadoweagle]

"Gah...! Rotten nag!" Nisher cursed beneath his breath - every time the man tried to reach his hand into the Howdah to rummage through it, Hezzab would snuff and shift it's feet, leaving the Spellwriter unable to get purchase on anything inside. So distracted by the Camel's skittishness, Stryne didn't notice Zuan approach until he was nearly next to the camel - albeit on the other side. Nish remained silent and took an inconspicuous step back, weighing up his options. It seemed the heavily tanned, slightly-plump man hadn't yet noticed him, although he did have an unsettled expression to his face which suggested he was suspicious. Nisher's enchantment had helped him remain undected thus-far, but he knew it wouldn't hold up for long against someone who was on high alert.

Nisher remained undecided about whether to risk continuing until he noticed the jeweled dagger Coursi had laid his hand on - d**n! if that bauble was around his belt, there must have been something good in those saddle-bags! Taking a further step back, Nisher allowed his concealing enchantment to slide away, giving him a body-wide pins-and-needles sensation and revealing himself.. "Now, there be no need for rash actions here, M'lord. I was just studying this strange animal!" Nisher's lie slid from his mouth in a well-practiced manner, and the scrawny Spellwriter stepped around Hezzab, his hands to the side and palms open in a non-threatening posture. His eyes glanced several times down to Zuan's dagger, and he continued speaking in an attempt to put the man at ease. "Say, who owns this place anyways? Looks like someone important to me, judging by the way those gardens are kept!" One side of Nisher's mind clicked as it considered that the man who had built up his house to this detail must have lived in Abodroc for some time, and may have some information about a certain disappearing group of Spellwriters... Not to mention some valuables in his halls which might be in need of 'rescuing'.
"Yes, someone important, surely!" Nish Stryne continued, "Do you think he has time to talk to a lowly arcanist who is looking for some missing friends?" The greasy man pulled his best smile, which only served to accentuate his naturally conniving expression. A people-person, Nisher is not.

[Dozus]

Zuan turned suddenly to see the approaching man. He gave the newcomer and look over and sneered. "Not for your sort, I should think," he sniffed. The man stunk of thievery, though there was no way to be sure. The merchant's hand moved from his dagger to his coin purse, drawing out a copper piece*. "Save your breath," he said, drawing the coin to his gilded coffer and dropping in the slot; a dutiful clank issued forth, sounding oddly hollow for such a small box. He leveled his finger at Stryne. "Do us both a favor and... leave."

OOC: Cast Command
*Did we go over the name for copper pieces in Abodroc? Tails are silver, rindods are gold, birds are platinum.

[Murometz]

sd

“Ah. I hope I have not left you waiting too long. I am Joachim Ebellos. Welcome to my home.” Ebellos sauntered into the menagerie and opened his palms outward in a typical gesture of greeting.

Upon seeing Saano close-up, Ebellos’eyes opened wider, but the trade-priest instantly recovered.

“My servant Ronsalvo will bring us refreshments." Ebellos sat down on a plushy divan across from Dealonar, his weight sinking into the fabric. “You like birds, I see.” Ebellos said, as if he had invited Dealonar to discuss the finer points of ornithology.

[Murometz]

zc/ns

Just like that a glaze came over Nisher's eyes, and he mumbled something incoherently, then turned, scratched his head as if pondering the universe's great mysteries, and shuffled off,  absentmindedly running his hand along the wall of Ebellos' estate, as he went.

Hezzab snorted and shook his head, sending saliva globs flying. He looked at Zuan, awaiting the inevitable mounting.

[Shadoweagle]

<Saving throw failed>

Nisher paced sullenly away, muttering beneath his breath to himself, "Leave? Yeah, i'll leave you oversized mother loving so..." The Spellwriter blinked and looked around. He had turned the corner of the estate and was now looking along it's side. Why did he walk away? He never listened to what others asked of him... it was practically one of his rules!
Nisher Stryne considered for a moment, and things locked into place. That coffer at the man's side. His lavish clothing and haughty manner. The way the fates seemed to tug Nisher away from the area at the man's behest. He was definitely one of those Trade Priests. "God d**ned coin-slot blessing-whore!" Nisher wiped his torso down as though he had been sullied by the Priest's influence, how dare he think to use his parlour tricks on Nish!

Nisher sighed though, relaxing; it was no matter. And besides - the fact the Trade Priest wanted him to leave only spurred Nisher's desire to get into that manor! Now around the side of the property, Nish pulled out his Spellwriter tome once again and opened it to a different page. Drawing on the power within him, he touched one page delicately, it's words fading away to nothingness like before, and then closed his book and put it away. For a moment, it appeared nothing had happened, but Stryne simply reached into his pack and pulled out his frayed rope, before collecting one end and thrusting it high into the air. The rope flew upwards to a peak and then amazingly hung there, suspended in air!
<Climb roll:Success> Using this rope, Nish scaled up the side wall of the estate deftly and sat himself atop it for just a moment. Nisher peered down to study his surroundings; a Fountain, a plethora of greenery, some mix-mashed outdoor furniture and the manse itself. He did notice several people going about their duties around the Manse, but just below him seemed secluded enough.

Nisher pulled the lower end of his suspended rope over the wall and used its aid to scale down safely. Once down, he wiggled the end of the rope a couple of times, loosing it from it's imaginary hook and pulling it down with him, looping it back up into his pack. Finally, with a grunt, Nisher scurried over to a particularly leafy bush, and then began his skulking journey towards the Manse.

[Chaosmark]

Saano Dealonar

Saano moved his fingers over to the lark's former perch, letting the avian switch over from where it had been resting on his fingertips before returning Ebellos' greeting with a slight bow, hands pressed together.

"Not at all, not at all. I spend much of my time waiting for the proper moment to act. It would be a bit rude to not afford others the same courtesy. I am called Saano." The Guardian moved to stand casually in front of his host, smiling as he continued with the small talk about the object of his prior distraction. "I didn't used to, but that changed a few years back. Now I find that I can watch them for hours." He took an almost pensive breath, eyes distant and unfocused, then seemed to catch his wandering thoughts and brought his gaze back to Ebellos.

"Unfortunately, I doubt that you requested my visit just to discuss your admittedly-impressive aviary. What circumstances require the presence of someone with my particular talents?"

[Murometz]

sd/isk

"Yes. Well. Right to the point of the blade, eh?" Ebellos began, "I should start by saying that I have made full payment to the Midnight Guard, though only half was requested up front. I wanted to get that out of the way. I presume you will collect your fee at your chapter-house, yes? Yes. Very good."

Ebellos picked up a pomegranate from a vase and examined it, as if it was the most interesting thing in existence, before continuing.

"I wished to hire one with such talents as yours, because of my sister. She is a Silent Woman at Saint Hurdegilda's Keep. Yes, i know you must be thinking, that I am wealthy merchant  sworn to the Divine Broker and my sister a barefoot pauper praying in one of the convents of the One God's saints. Well, my sister was always of a certain temperment, even outof the womb, very dramatic and emotional. When she chose the arduous life of a Silent Woman, well, we figured it a phase. But lo and behold six years later she still spends her days praying and her nights praying harder."

Ebellos paused for breath and to see if Dealonar was following him.

"Last month, I received a letter from my sister, a most disturbing account of a possession by some diabolical creature. The Silent Women attempted a Dispiritation, I assure you, yet i received further word that it did not work, and a Silent Woman was even slain in the process. They fear they do not know what to do with my sister, so they want to send her away, before she causes even more harm. Now, I have attempted some of my own research, and I believe what possesses my sister is a B'kakor. That book on the table there, see it? I will show you the creature and you can---"

Another interruption, this time in the form of Ebellos personal body-guard, a short, swarthy man named Iskander. There was something vaguely impressive about the average-looking man and his entrance, but Dealonar couldn't put his finger on why he felt so.

"There is an intruder in the garden." Iskander announced unceremoniously to Ebellos and crossed his arms.

[Murometz]

Ebellos: "An intruder?! What kind of intruder?
Iskander: The intruding kind.
Ebellos: Well, do something. Can you kill him?
Iskander: If necessary.
Ebellos: well, wait, don't kill him. Lets see what this scoundrel is after! Or whom he is after. Is it a he?"

.....

[Dozus]

Zuan shook his head as Nisher walked off. Thievery, so blatant in the streets of Abodroc now! He made a note to file a complaint to the city guard, perhaps back it with the seal of the House of Bursars. Surely Joachim would be glad to arrange it...

He paused, holding Hezzab's reigns in one hand. The suspicious man had asked about Joachim's house. Surely he had no machinations against his brother priest? He looked back to where Nish had wandered off to see nothing but darkness and the stone wall of Ebellos' manse. He paused, then shook his head again. "No, certainly not," he muttered. Besides, if anything were to happen, it was hardly Zuan's business, at least personally. Who could know what that slick-haired brigand wanted?

Hezzab grunted, lowering his head at Coursi impatiently. "Yes yes, we'll get going now..." Midway through pulling the camel down to climb into the howdah, the merchant stopped and gave a sigh. It would look poorly on him if something did happen to Joachim's house so soon after he left. And Joachim was about to do him a favor. Even if it was to pay back another favor, he could accrue some interest by doing another.

Zuan shook his head. "Sentimental fool," he muttered, retying Hezzab to the post against the annoyed camel's groans. He hurried back to the front door of the manse and gave a few quick raps. "It is Zuan again," he called out, hoping the servant hadn't gone too far.

[Chaosmark]

Saano

Holding his tongue whilst Iskander and Ebellos spoke, Saano interjected a quick comment during the lull in conversation between order and action.

"I can stay here and peruse the description of the B'kakor you already have, if this intruder requires your full attention and time. You said it was that book there?"

[Murometz]

sd

"Yes, yes of course" Ebellos said and rushed from the menagerie following his body-guard Iskander.

Dealonar was familiar with this grimoire, though not the original of course but one of the many copies available in Abodroc's Illuminated Great Library. The tome was named, The Key of Lamezo Abilgard, colloquially called "the Clavicula", and it detailed in earnest over a hundred infernal and demonic creatures "known" to exist.


The book was already open to the page depicting and describing the B'kakor.




The text began, "When the monkeys cried out in envy of the gifts given to mortal men, they were led by their King B'kakor. The race of apes was then justly punished by The One, and a new branch of creatures came forth..."

and further in the text, "They are known to possess mortals and are very difficult to drive off or Dispirit. Minor demons in every way, they do possess one attribute that makes them unique. Each B'kakor knows one Great Secret..."

And so forth.

[Murometz]

zc

"Don Coursi?" Ronsalvo looked surprised to see Zuan again, as he opened the door, in a seeming panic. Though Zuan was no Don yet, Ronsalvo had always granted him the honorific title. "Don Coursi, there is an intruder on the premises. You will be safer inside. Come." the servant turned and moved quickly back inside the manse.

As Zuan entered he could now see a stern, tightly-coiled man rushing down the stairs, with the plump, red-faced Ebellos close behind.

[valadaar]

"A he, yes. Small and bookish."

Finally something going on.  Iskander was close to quitting and moving on - the merchant was as interesting as bare couscous. He had not seen the intruder himself, but the manse had many eyes and few secrets.

Iskander paused for a moment to retrieve his shortbow and arrows, concealed nearby in a closet.   It was not the horn bow he once had, now doubtless firewood on some beach, but it would serve to feather the intruder, should it come to that.

He noted the visitor at the door, and had the servant not seemed to know him, would have dealt with that first. The intruder could be a distraction - why else come in in broad daylight?

He'd find out soon enough. 

[Dozus]

"Intruder!" Coursi intoned. He pushed past Ronsalvo and tried to match pace with Joachim and the shorter man. "I saw this robber, Joachim!" he said as he trailed the two. "I had sent him off with the Broker's blessing, but he must have returned, the thieving bastard!"

He glanced over at the other fellow. "Who is this, then?" Zuan's brow furrowed as the man pulled his weaponry from the closet. "A soldier? Why for, Joachim?" He hated unexpected turns of events like this, they were so hard to plan properly for.

[Murometz]

zc/isk/ns

"Did I not mention earlier?" Ebellos gasped between breaths, "I hired this man a few weeks ago. Iskander is his name. Don't let his modest size fool you, I hear he fights like a tiger! Come dear Zuan, let us see who this intruder is, and if this Iskander is worth his weight in Tails on the Qurai High Exchange!"

moments later...

"He doesn't look like much." Ebellos intoned sounding almost disappointed, as the lone, somewhat disheveled figure of Nisher Stryne came into view in the garden. "You say you have already encountered this--man, outside my wall, Coursi? I am surprised the Divine Broker's blessing didn't do the trick."


Interestingly, Stryne did not bolt or run upon seeing the trio, but merely stood there, awaiting their approach, as if already resigned to his fate, whatever it would be.