With Justice For None (Nalifan and Company)

[Rogue 9]

Awesome.

By the by, something's been bothering me. When Messina said Gaheris reminded her of someone she knew, was she actually referring to Nalifan, or was Gaheris' reference just a lucky way-off coincidence?

[LadyTevar]

Awesome.

By the by, something's been bothering me. When Messina said Gaheris reminded her of someone she knew, was she actually referring to Nalifan, or was Gaheris' reference just a lucky way-off coincidence?

I thought you asked this a page or two back... yes, tis' an insult to Gaheris, cause hes' being compared to Nalifan.

[Rogue 9]

Did I? I don't remember it, but a page or two back's been awhile. Ah well.

[Imperial Overlord]

Gaheris waited until Kaeryn had left the room before turning towards Imizael. "So what do you think of our drow ally?"

"He is unusual in several ways, but he is not that different from what I expected. The charm and hospitality were surprising, but as for the rest . . . well, he's still a Lolthite battle mage. That he is indifferent to the loss of innocent life is to be expected."

"You found him charming?" said Gaheris.

"When I first met him, why yes. He was quite the pleasant host. Why?"

Gaheris waved his hand. "It doesn't matter."

"We may have a use for him now," said Astinius firmly, "that doesn't mean he shouldn't pay for his crimes."

"Who is going to judge him?" said Imizael. "You? You hate him already. He would hardly get a fair trial." Imizael passed close to Astinius on her way to the pitcher of water. Astinius flinched and stepped back as she poured herself a glass of water.

"If I hate him, its because his crimes are despicable. I am not the one making apologies for him. I have . . . . . suffered and I will not allow others to suffer if I can stop it. He is not the only battle mage here."

Imizael laughed. "You are no war mage."

Astinius responded heatidly. "I fought evil, as best as I can. With Mystra's aid, I have been mostly successful."

"That doesn't make you a battle mage," she replied. "Have you ever trained for war? Ever taken your place in battle line. How can a man who flinches away from a simple touch work with shield bearers and fight in close quarters? You are no battle mage."

Astinius squirmed. "I meant merely that I use magic to fight evil," he replied.

"I didn't say you didn't. My sister does also. I intend to do so as well. But none of us are war trained, not even the good Paladin if I am not mistaken. Nalifan is. War has its own cruel logic. Trading the lives of some innocence bystanders to destroy his enemies is something, to him, that is sensible. I do not say you made the wrong choice. I would have made it as well. I'm saying to expect him to agree with it is foolishness."

"And that's why I'm in charge," said Gaheris. "We don't let the man without a concience make the decisions for the rest of us."

"As you say," said Imizael. Kaeryn reentered the room.

"Are you ready to go?" she asked.

"Yes," said Gaheris.

"Then lets go find your people."

The two exited out of the brothel's back door, which opened discreetly to a clean alley way. The two walked around and merged into Westgate's street traffic. "So," said Kaeryn, "what are we looking for?"

"Little signs in the right places. Sort of like Thieves' Cant, if you are familiar with it."

"I've heard of it," she replies. "Indicating so and so is still alive or to meet at some place at the appointied time and so forth."

"Yes."

Westgate's people were not the warmest in Faerun under normal circumstances and one could feel the tension running through them now. They were tense and hostile, with angry oaths being muttered when bumped or jostled. They were also in a hurry, not wanting to be out on the streets longer than they had to. Kaeryn could taste the fear.

Gaheris went into an alley, pretending to look for a spot to releave himself. He nudged aside a piece of junk and saw the signs. He smiled.

"Good news?" Kaeryn asked as he rejoined her.

"Yes. Streck's alive and he's found some others. We're going to meet."

"Good news indeed." They continued walking. "Where are we going?"

Gaheris inclined his head towards a sign depicting a pig holding a tankard of ale. "There."

[LadyTevar]

A nice quickie... where does it go from here?

[Rogue 9]

That would simply spoil the surprise, I think.

Anyway, no, none of the others are trained in war, Gaheris included if you don't count beyond the basics. But this isn't a war in the sense that Nalifan was trained to fight, either.

[Imperial Overlord]

That would simply spoil the surprise, I think.

Anyway, no, none of the others are trained in war, Gaheris included if you don't count beyond the basics. But this isn't a war in the sense that Nalifan was trained to fight, either.

On the contrairy, Nalifan was trained exactly for this kind of war. Open battle in the fields or skirmishing through the trees is not his element, shadow wars waged between factions in the buildings and streets of a city is.

[LadyTevar]

That would simply spoil the surprise, I think.

Anyway, no, none of the others are trained in war, Gaheris included if you don't count beyond the basics. But this isn't a war in the sense that Nalifan was trained to fight, either.

On the contrairy, Nalifan was trained exactly for this kind of war. Open battle in the fields or skirmishing through the trees is not his element, shadow wars waged between factions in the buildings and streets of a city is.

I was trying to put that into words myself, Impy This is Nal's element.

[Rogue 9]

And a shadow war is precisely what Gaheris and his order have been fighting, in some form or other, for the previous decade. They're not exactly fish out of water here either. If you want to get really picky, this is a battleground he's been trained to fight on since his age was measured in single digits.

[Imperial Overlord]

And a shadow war is precisely what Gaheris and his order have been fighting, in some form or other, for the previous decade. They're not exactly fish out of water here either. If you want to get really picky, this is a battleground he's been trained to fight on since his age was measured in single digits.

To get picky, it hasn't. Gaheris has spent most of his time trying to survive on the streets since he was in single digits. Most of his time, energy, and resources has been going towards just getting by.. He was not trained for shadow war either by his past or by the paladins of Tyr. He's been learning as he goes for the last several years. His childhood experience is in surviving on the mean streets. Some of that background is applicable to the situation, but far from all of it.

Nalifan has been trained for decades on how to fight this kind of war. He didn't have to spend hours out of each day trying to steal or scavenge his next meal. He had the best tutors inside and outside of his house. He was instructed in millenia of history in this kind of war. His status in his house was based completely on his use in this kind of war. And Nalifan has delivered victory for his house.

[Imperial Overlord]

Umberlee was not a well loved goddess. The Bitch Queen ruled the waves and sailors paid their respects to her and made offerings in her temples, but they did not love the capricious and cruel goddess. As a port town Westgate included a temple to this less than beloved goddess, but most folk maintained their distance from the temple near the docks.

This suited the Vara'Done just fine. There was a fountain in front of the Umberlee's grim house. It was of white marble in front of the temple, carved with images of squid and dolphins and topped by mermaid. Silver and copper coins glitttered on the bottom, offerings given in hope of safe voyage by those who did not want to enter Umberlee's temple.

Kaeryn and Gaheris both tossed a copper into the fountain. The Night Mask presence around here would be light as the gangsters that made up Umberlee's priesthood didn't like the competition from other crimminal scum. After they made their donation they left the courtyard. On their way out, a sandled sailor wearing a shirt and scruffy breeches emerged from an alley, dropping an empty clay jar. He staggered in their direction.

"Nice to see you again," the sailor hissed softly.

Gaheris made a dismissive motion towards the shorter man. "How are things Streck?"

"Could be worse. Most of us seem to be breathing still. Jhemn and Kella didn't make it."

Gaheris made a face. "Damn. We've got some help. We'll be taking the fight to them soon enough."

Streck flinched away. "Good. Hit them hard. Where it counts. We'll be ready when you give the word."

Gaheris turned his back and walked his way. "Nicely done," said Kaeryn.

"Thank you. An old skill. Nice to know I still have the knack."

"If it isn't against the commands of your faith, I would like to try something," said Kaeryn.

"What?"

"Resurrecting Abbot Khazar."

A light glittered in Gaheris's eyes. Three archmages and two high priests against whatever the Night Masks could muster. They would be able to match them spell for spell at least. Good enough. Blade for blade was his end and in that arena he had no doubt about the outcome. "Yes," he said with a smile. "Do it."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The adolescent boy watched the watcher. Disguised by wearing merely human flesh and plain clothes Nalifan blended in easily with Westgate's nervous crowds. More than a few Westgaters were sending an occassiional glance at the trio of Banites who were standing in the open, watching the House of Lathandar.

Nalifan wasn't watching them, but rather the invisible sentinel on the nearby roof top. The imp was watching the Banites and anyone who showed too much interest in them. So Nalifan was careful not to show too much.

The Banites knew about their watch dog. One would look over in its direction far too often for it to be coincidence. That meant they had magic to see the invisible which meant a number of ways of tracking them were out. He could try to take them all at once, but if even one remained conscious then a telepathic sending or a simple spell would probably bring down a host upon his head. He could strike and strike hard, but to take them all down instantly and still have some alive for questioning was going to be difficult.

Best to let the matter rest then. Come back again with more support and make it a clean sweep. It wasn't like there wouldn't be another opportunity to find Banites wandering the street. Humming one of his favorite murder ballads under his breath, Nalifan headed back to the Blushing Rose.

[LadyTevar]

Humming one of his favorite murder ballads under his breath,

Why is that so creepy, when I've sang several ballads from the British Isles with dark, murderous overtones...?

[Rogue 9]

Humming one of his favorite murder ballads under his breath,

Why is that so creepy, when I've sang several ballads from the British Isles with dark, murderous overtones...?

Possibly because it's Nalifan?

And excellent.

[Imperial Overlord]

Blood dripped down into the huge crystal bowl at the center of the table as the dying man suspended by chains from the ceiling twitched his last. Two men and two women sat down to dine while servitors slowly lowered the twitching body.

The dark haired woman spoke. She was pale, beautiful and predatory. She wore a triple layered gown of white samite and gold. "He's about drained out." He place was set with untensil's and dishes chastened with gold although there was no food on her plate.

"Indeed," said the man at the head of the table. He wore dark robes and the top half of his face was obscured by a mask. He turned to his pale servants. "See to the butchering. I wouldn't want our guest to go without."

The pale woman with the golden hair inclined her head. "Thank you milord." She wore a lose white robe with red trim.

The other "man" could no longer pass as human. Fangs jutted from his bloodless lips, which were curled in a bestial snarl. His ears were pointed and enlarged and his eyes blazed with crimson fires. His hair was a wild mane and his fingers ended in talons. Even at this elegant table he wore leather and steel. Only recently had he, Olek Vashare, come to Orbakh's domain and bent his knee. Subtlety had been burned out of him but he was still a near perfect instrument of violence, a berserker to stand next to Orbakh's Twilight Knight.

"Saving him for something special?" Olek asked.

"Oh no," the dark haired vampiress responded. "We've had him for a while now. Draining his blood, putting him in Yalshala's pain extractor, and healing him up for another round. If you heal them everyday, you can get quite a lot of blood out of one human and you can do it over and over and over again."

"Ahhh. Only a few ever disappear, but you can sustain many, many more than they would think even if they discover your existence," said Olek. "Clever. Why kill him now?"

The blonde took a sip from her glass, which was fill with a red fluid that was paler and less viscous than blood. She leaned back in her chair, her eyes rolling up.

"Because," said the dark haired vampiress, "we don't need to keep his disappearance secret from his fellow Tyrians anymore. One of Yalshala's people has been playing his part and has done a delightful job of of incriminating his fellow honest Watch officers, not that there were that many. We can dispose of him now. Just Captain Tormith Hammersong is now just meat we can dispose of."

The servants had hauled the corpse over to a nearby block of wood and were methodically severing the Just Captain's limbs with a heavy cleaver. One of them flayed Hammersong's left forearm and placed it on a white porcelan plate. He layed the bloody offering before the blonde.

The woman lifted the bloody meat off her plate in her hands and bit a chunk off. "Is it to your liking Yalshala?" Obrakh asked.

She chewed and swallowed. "Indeed it is."

The dark haired vampiress turned to Obrakh. "What now, milord?"

"The Vara'Done Dahlia," Olek hissed. "It is obvious to anyone with a brain. They must be crushed. The Lathandarites too."

"The Vara'Done are nothing," said Yalshala. "They cannot oppose us."

"They lack the power and the will to successfully oppose us," said Obrakh. "They are a danger to us. They alone are a nuisance, but allied with a greater power they can become a knife hand and the sensory organs of a stronger entity. Already they allied with at least one mage of power."

"What else can they muster?" said Dahlia. "We have arranged 'troubles' in the cities nearby. There is no one who will come riding to Westgate's rescue." A servant filled her tall glass with laddle from the bowl of blood. She drank deeply and smiled.

"Apparently at least one mage of power," said the Night King. "Perhaps more. We shall see. They have no real idea how many eyes we have or how great our power is. When they have exposed themselves and their allies we, or our Banite friends, shall end them."

[LadyTevar]

May all our foes be this overconfidant, and hopefully stupid as well!

[Rogue 9]

Every time Orbakh opens his fanged mouth, the urge to see him shish-kabobed on the end of a holy avenger grows stronger.

Yeah. Definitely.

[Imperial Overlord]

"Astinius," said Nalifan as the sun elf opened the door to the suite. The sun elf retreated a step, keeping just out of hands reach. "Thank you. Imizael."

She nodded in return. Nalifan, still wearing the guise of a human adolescent turned back to Astinius. "How much do you hate me Astinius?"

"Enough not to weep if you die."

"Ahh," said Nalifan. "Naked honest hatred. It reminds me of home. Cousin." He flashed white teeth as the transformation spell reversed itself in a blur of colours. "Don't scowl so much. It will ruin your chances of getting the fair regard of the brilliant and beautiful Imizael."

She looked up. "Do you really think you can charm your in to my bed?"

"Not at all," said Nalifan. "Superficial pleasantries are precisely that. Pleasantries. If I were to move you, it would be with something far more meaningful, something you would be sure was authentic. Even if I knew what it was that you found desirable, you would not trust anything coming from me."

"That only proves she's smart," said Astinius.

"Distrusting the drow seems to be in fashion. Let me ask you this: do you believe I want to win this war?"

"Yes," said Astinius. "but I think the moment you think you have it tied up you'll turn on us."

Nalifan shrugged. "Nothing I can say will dissuade you from that opinion. Imizael, your thoughts?

"Kaeryn wouldn't be a party to such treachery."

Nalifan clapped his hands together. "Excellent! Yes, of course she wouldn't. She would turn on me if I were to try it. Far too many enemies for me to overcome alone."

"Is that why you haven't called upon your other allies?" said Imizael.

"Truth be told, I have already tried to reach them and failed, but that is the reason I haven't continued to attempt contact. Astinius here is worried I might be holding a grudge over earlier unpleasantness. I'm not. If I was so inclined, I would have killed them both when we first met. Trizkel on the other hand . . . . best not to introduce more tension when most of you already distrust me."

"How was your scouting expedition?" Imizael asked, changing the subject before it flowed back to her. "I thought you were going to catch a Banite?"

"Problems. The Banites, besides carrying an impressive arsenal of thaumaturgically enhanced war gear, have invisible minders. They're bait. Bait flush with magic and part of an alliance that was able to smash through an extremely formidable ward barrier. This changes things. Where is our stalwart leader anyway?"

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

"What do you see in him anyway?" Gaheris askeda s they weaved their way through Westgate's crowds. There was an edginess to them, a tension that could transform into fleeing or violence.

"As a companion or as a lover?" Kaeryn responded.

Gaheris didn't break stride. "I'll start with companion."

"He's loyal, he's intelligent, brave, and brilliant. He can be thoughtful, considerate, and kind. He can be other things as well, which is where your disapproval comes from."

"Disapproval is a mild term." The way a trio of tradesmen were moving ahead seemed wrong. To purposeful, he realized, and too focused on us. Night Masks. His hand went into his tunic for a blade. If he was wrong, Kaeryn could always heal the poor bastard.

The knife was in the air when as his warning left his lips. The leader of the false tradesmen was speaking a spell. Too late. Gaheris's knife struck him right in the heart. I clanged and bounced off.

Kaeryn fell screaming and writhing on the ground, blistering bursting on her hands and face, puss filling her eyes. Beshaba's Brats!. The illusion melted away as the plate armoured warrior advanced. The spiked mace and the silver rod were very familiar. The writhing aura of darkness was new and unpleasant though. The other two were uttering spells and Gaheris felt a wave of fear wash over him as he drew his sword. The unnatural terror did not touch him, but the citizens of the city did their best to vanish. It didn't matter. All that mattered was this time the Banite was going down.

His two friends held back. Well that was just fine with Gaheris. He would get to them in due time. Bright Edge's blade glowed white hot with holy power while the Banite's spiked mace blazed with green flames. Gaheris struck first and true, bringing his sword down on the Banite's left pauldron in a blow that should have sliced through even spell wrought armour plate.

Black lightning erupted from impact point, wrapping itself around Gaheris's blade. Blood gushed from the wound and Gaheris could hear the bone break, but Bright Edge penetrated no further. Pain exploded as the Banite's mace shattered his left thighbone in a welter of blood. Gaheris fell, rolling away and reaching within himself for a well of healing power.

The Banite's mace smashed cobblestones instead of Gaheris's mortal flesh. He murmed a spell and his bleeding slowed. Gaheris rolled to his feet. "I can taste your fear Trollbane," said the Banite as he swept his mace down.

Gaheris stepped back out of the way. The Banite took a step towards where Kaeryn writhed screaming. Gaheris's feinted. The Banite spun swiftly on his heel and brought his mace across Gaheris's side. Agony erupted as bone broke flesh was torn. The paladin struck back, bringing Bright Edge down hard on the Banite's helmet. The blow dented the metal, but it did not penetrate.

The Banite lashed out with his gauntleted fist. Gaheris tried to dodge, but his wound slowed him too much. The spiked gauntlet struck him high on the right side of his face. His cheekbone broke under the impact. Spikes tore his flesh and gauged his eye. He fell.

The Banite took off his helmet and flung it to the side. Blood was streaming over his eyes and face. He muttered a prayer and wiped away some of the blood. It didn't help much. Gaheris's good eye got a glimpse of blood smeared orcish features and lightning bolt scars on the cheeks.

He could only be Imperceptor Razhal Ironhand. So the bastard hadn't died screaming at the end of a lance somewhere in the Heartlands. Gaheris rolled and tried to regain his feet. He managed it, barely. He needed to play for time. He only needed a few moments and then help would come. Just a few moments.

Razhal didn't give them to him. The Banite uttered another spell and parried a weak strike by Bright Edge. His hand brushed Gaheris's arm. Terrible wounds exploded into being on his arms, legs, and chest exploded and blood soaked his clothes. Gaheris wobbled. The spiked mace smashed into his face and obliterated the left side of his face and jaw. The paladin toppled.

Razhal smiled. This was the most fun he had had since the formation of the Silver Marches and being driven out of the northlands. He walked over to Kaeryn. "This will all end soon milady," he said soothingly as she writhed in agony. He picked up her hands and held them. He smiled even more broadly when he crushed the bones in her hands and fingers.

He dropped her maimed hand and then smashed her jaw with his fist. "This spell won't last forever and we can't have you casting any spells. I can assure you, you will both be my guests for some time before you kneel of your own will before the Black Throne and beg for a merciful death."

[LadyTevar]

... ouch.

The good thing... I have spells that I can use. The bad thing: I have no way to let Nal know where we are.

Oh gods, he's going to level the city...

BTW: Before I saw what happened to Kaeryn, I was going to comment on this statement:

"Kaeryn wouldn't be a party to such treachery."

Nalifan clapped his hands together. "Excellent! Yes, of course she wouldn't. She would turn on me if I were to try it. Far too many enemies for me to overcome alone."

Rather touching that he thinks of Kaeryn so highly, although I do wonder if that last statement could be sarcastic. All the more reason they're screwed, since the one person who could hold him back is now in enemy hands.

Still... what's going on with Trizk?

[Imperial Overlord]

"Kaeryn wouldn't be a party to such treachery."

Nalifan clapped his hands together. "Excellent! Yes, of course she wouldn't. She would turn on me if I were to try it. Far too many enemies for me to overcome alone."

Rather touching that he thinks of Kaeryn so highly, although I do wonder if that last statement could be sarcastic. All the more reason they're screwed, since the one person who could hold him back is now in enemy hands.

Still... what's going on with Trizk?

Trizkel just about arrived "home". He'll be getting a lot of attention very soon. As for the Nalifan's statement, even Nalifan's opinion of himself is grounded in reality. An elven high mage, an archmage, a paladin, a elf stealth warrior, and a Dweomer Keeper of Mystra really is biting off far more than he can chew, especially now that he has almost no magic items.

[Imperial Overlord]

Razhal smiled as the priestess whimpered. The sweet taste of fear and despair. A pleasure to be savoured for sure. When he was through with her, before she was sacrificed on the Black Altar, she would kneel before him and offer herself to him enthusiastically. But that was for the future and it was best to deal with the present. He turned to where Gaheris was sprawled.

The fool was no weakling. He had managed to recover conciousness to some degree. Maimed and crippled, he was still clutching his sword, balancing on a wobbling knee and a bleeding arm. The Tyrian wouldn't quit. That would change in time, of course. There was no one who could not be broken.

Ironfist circled the paladin. Gaheris clumsily turned to match him. "Gaheris Trollbane. You're not nearly as good as they say you are, but you're tougher. You have seen how much that matters. Your future belongs to Bane, as does this city and eventually this world."

A blow from his mace knocked the sword out of Gaheris's hand. He cuffed the paladin, sending him back over on his side. He kicked him in the mid back with strength that was far greater than a man's. Gaheris howled as his spine snapped.

Running footsteps alerted him to trouble. He turned as Streck leapt from a nearby alley. The monk's leap covered an impossible amount of distance. His foot connected with Razhal's breastplate, denting it and sending the Imperceptor rolling in the street. Streck caught himself with his hands, bent his arms, and vaulted back to his feet.

Razhal was getting to his feet as he was barraged by a flurry of blows. The monk's power was not from merely muscle or skill, but from channelling the energies of the planes into his blow. Spell hardened plate was dented over Razhal's left thigh and right shoulder. With an open handed slap Streck knocked the mace out of the priest's hand. The others would be on him in moments and this one, even disarmed was still deadly. He felt his strength ebbing with each contact with the black aura engulfing the Banite. He had to kill the priest now. Streck closed and reached for Razhal's head and neck.

Ironfist seized his left arm inches from his head and lifted him up as if he was a small child. Streck had a moment to realize his mistake. The priest's strength was magically augmented an enormous. He kicked Razhal's breastplate. The half orc grunted in pain and squeezed.

The monk didn't scream as his arm broke. Razhal's left hand close on his leg. With an explosive rush of movement, he brought the monk down on his right knee, breaking his spine. Razhal dropped him to the cobbles and and punched him in the upper back, driving a spike into his spine. Monks could be tricky. Best to sever the spine in two places, just in case.

Kaeryn watched the fight. The spell of pain had abatted enough to allow her to concentrate. Streck was doomed, of course, but just maybe she could save them. She had learned arcane secrets in Mystra's temples, ways of preparing magics the relied on neither word nor gesture. It was a difficult and costly art and she had no such spells currently prepared that could save them, but she had another skill that she could use.

Her skill with healing magics was so great that she could tear apart other spells and reweave them into healing spells. She did so, taking it and reweaving it into a spell of healing that required neither word nor gesture. She invoked its power and felt her jaw knit and her fingers straighten. They were stiff and painful, but it was enough.

She saw Razhal smash Streck across his bent leg. Merciful Mystra, to defeat a monk hand to hand with neither weapon or spell. Razhal wasn't paying attention to her and neither were his cronies. Now was her chance.

She bolted for the fallen. Razhal stepped over Streck's body, interposing himself and undoubtedly ready to strike her again with either fist or magic. Her hand closed on Gaheris as her lips intoned the initiator's of a spell. With the dull boom of displaced air they were gone.

The appeared in the suite, bloody and ragged. Kaeryn ignored them and began to speak a potent spell of healing. Gaheris didn't have much time. Blue light shown over his body. The blood flow was reduced to a trickle and his wounds began to close, if not completely heal. Her blistered and battered hands were trembling. She could heal the rest with time.

Nalifan was already intoning a spell and the others were following suit. "Nal-" she started to say. Thunder crashed nearby and screams came from below.

"They've found us," he finished.

[Rogue 9]

Well fuck.

[LadyTevar]

The next words out of Kaeryn's mouth should be "Regroup at the Manor, right? I'll take the wounded."

But ouch.. that poor monk. *winces* This ork is not someone to screw with, is he.

[Rogue 9]

Complication: He'll want to get Messina.

[LadyTevar]

Complication: He'll want to get Messina.

This is a problem how? Just sit down before you hurt yourself again.. a broken back doesn't heal all at once you know.

[Imperial Overlord]

This is a problem how? Just sit down before you hurt yourself again.. a broken back doesn't heal all at once you know.

I believe the good paladin is refering to the fact that she isn't in the room with everyone else and may be difficult to find and extract while fending of an attack.