Topic: Theft

Sheagrandis · Date: 2005-07-18 21:17 EST

Sheagrandis had succeeded at many tasks assigned to him by the Order in the past. They ranged from the utterly mundane to insanely dangerous. The warrior-monk's work started with scribe tasks, copying holy manuscripts at the main monastery in Destil. He was vaulted into the upper levels of the Order during the Twilight War when he was ordered to accompany the High Priestess to Kaul, to assist with the destruction of the Twilight Gate. During battle, he had witnessed her transformation into the Avatar of the Guardian. Afterwards, with her commendations, he'd settled in Kaul, rewarded with his own Guardian Temple to oversee, and he taught language and history to the children of the quarry workers and dissatisfied nobles.

It was while he was teaching that he learned the High Priestess had found herself a mortal consort, horrifying and scandalizing most of Rhilshen's priesthood. When she took up residence in Rhy'Din's nexus and abdicated her throne in favor of her son, the Priests broke into factions: those that felt the Avatar could do no wrong, and those that felt betrayed. Sheagrandis was quietly one of the latter.

Thus, the warrior-monk was neither offended nor surprised when he was approached by a dour member of the Order who sought to recruit him to "effect significant changes" in Rhilshen.

Sheagrandis · Date: 2005-07-19 22:21 EST

His first tasks had involved establishing a new "monastery" near the Temple in Kaul, devoted exclusively to honing the skills required for killing. Sheagrandis sought masters from outside of Rhilshen, even journeying twice to Rhy'Din in his recruitment efforts. He brought back alchemists, poisoners, blade masters, a master thief, mind mages, and several necromancers. He spent two enjoyable years under their tutelage before the Order assigned another to take his place and sent him on his next assignment: observing and reporting.

He easily found himself a position on Karthalan's staff at the main Temple in Rhilshen proper, occasionally assisting the High Priest with the instruction of the young Emperor, Alaric. Sheagrandis viewed this as a pointless duty; having yet to encounter a Twilight War, Alaric was openly disdainful of the role the Guardian played in Rhilshen, more focused on Law than Faith. Still, he tried to do his best to impress the importance of such things on the youthful sovereign, without attracting undue notice from Alaric's Master of Assassins, a demonic were-rat named Javan.

Sheagrandis had even managed to be present when the Emperor pronounced exile upon his own mother, the former Sovereign of Rhilshen. Alaric had softened his sentence for public consumption, by claiming that his mother was being sent to Rhy'din as a Priestess, to further the interests of Rhilshen and the Guardian. The Order had hoped to deal with Alysia's betrayal on their own, and expressed mild disapproval with Alaric's secular interference.

The Order was pleased when through their combined efforts, the Masters of the Kaul Monastery manufactured an artifact containing a version of the Shadow Plague and deposit it with a rather unsuccessful student in crimsor mine near Mynw. The ensuing ripples of chaos and death allowed them to increase their power, both politically and metaphysically.

Sheagrandis · Date: 2005-07-28 21:00 EST

Sheagrandis was then called upon for his first assassination. Somehow, Javan had intimations of danger, and had sent his best apprentice to Rhy'Din, not only for further training in shadow sorcery from Alysia, but also to investigate and guard the Priestess from the attacks he foresaw. Javan's apprentice assassin was successfully waylaid by the Order's apprentice assassin and was left neatly wrapped in small pieces near a sausage factory on the outskirts of the city.

He returned to Rhilshen and reported to the Kaul Monastery. Exhilarated with this success, the Order continued their efforts at sowing the seeds of discontent and mistrust of the Skye Bloodline in Rhilshen. Prompted by bribes, threats, and eventually deaths, minor nobles on the Emperor's advisory council were encouraged to bring divisive arguments and to support what were now termed as the 'traditional' ideals of Rhilshen. Those that couldn't be encouraged to support this faction of the Guardian Priests were quietly killed, and somehow, more pliable souls took their place on the council.

Alaric weathered the changes on his council without much concern; this was probably because Javan was more occupied with diverting a series of poisoners and spell-dancers away from the young Emperor and those that remained loyal to the Skye Bloodline than with pointing out the alarming trends displayed among his advisors. With a several more significant assassinations under his belt, Sheagrandis was instructed to take up residence in Rhy'Din and discretely explore the possibilities for terminating any threats to the growing influence of the Order.

Obviously, the former Sovereign was viewed as the greatest threat.

Sheagrandis · Date: 2005-08-04 21:20 EST

Sheagrandis had considered adopting a different appearance and superficial profession to disguise his purpose, but ultimately decided against it. After all, cloaked assassins were more common in Rhy'Din than clerks, merchants, or bakers. To hide the various tattoos and brands which marked him as a Guardian Priest, he favored black clothing covering him from throat to toe and a mask which revealed only the burning fervor and hatred in his eyes. All in all, he looked scarcely different from any other denizen of Rhy'Din.

So, it was thusly garbed that he visited the Red Dragon Inn. He observed Alysia from a distance, quietly seething as she smiled and carried on with the mortal man she intended to marry again. Her eyes had passed over him a few times, but there was no recognition in her gaze. Sheagrandis grinned to himself, elated; the gauntlets he wore, artifacts crafted from blackened crimsor and hardened dragon hide, had been ensorcelled to cloud his aura and prevent the Priestess from recognizing him as a tainted servant of the Guardian God of Rhilshen.

The gauntlets allowed him to focus his energies on a more important spell, a simple chant of forgetfulness. Though he appeared outwardly relaxed, Sheagrandis was keyed-up and horribly tense about this first step in his plan. This made his throat ache. Given the origin of the chant, there was a chance she'd overhear him and realize too much, so he silently prayed that he'd just sound like a muttering madman. He breathed the syllables, clearly annunciating behind his mask as he shaped just enough sound to give life to the cantrip.

The invisible energy of the chant of forgetfulness left his fingertips and enveloped his target. For a brief moment, the outline of a sword sheathed across Alysia's back became apparent, glowing hot and blue as the spell was absorbed by the soulsword. The priest forced himself not to react, waiting.

Sheagrandis waited until Alysia left the Inn that night, apparently none the wiser, and he wondered what had happened to the guarded, imperious, and aggressive bitch that had been the High Priestess of Rhilshen. He meditated on this for several hours that night. Eventually, he shrugged it off, and his thoughts spiraled back to the task at hand.

He guessed that there were two probable outcomes from the spell: Either she'd take her sword off when she sought her bed that night and mysteriously lose the blade, or she'd attempt to use the blade and the spell would transfer to her.

Sheagrandis · Date: 2005-11-25 21:28 EST

From scraps of gossip about town, Sheagrandis had become aware of Alysia?s preparations for a journey with her fianc?. He had, however, been unable to follow her as far as he had wished; their destination seemed to be an island. The tainted Priest had meditated lightly on the shore for the first evening of their getaway, watching the lights and hearing their laughter carrying from the island.

Morning brought his decision. He returned to his apartment in Rhy?Din, where he selected fine raiment to make him appear a minor noble and a heavy gold chain necklace which carried a light illusion to cover his brands and tattoos. With his ensorcelled gauntlets hidden in a chest in his bedroom, Sheagrandis headed to Dark Lake Manor, neatly slipping through the wards that usually protected Alysia?s home from those with the intent to do the residents harm. Not even a tingle of warning? He grinned. Alysia had apparently not considered that fellow servants of Dthrendtalen, the dragon guardian god of Rhilshen, even the tainted ones, might follow her in exile.

Sheagrandis introduced himself to the fiery young redhead who answered the door. Discerning that the woman, ?Ruby?, was a mage of some sort, possibly an apprentice, he glibly claimed he was a former guildmate of Alysia and had only just recently heard of her return to Rhy?Din. He held up a small gilded casket and mentioned that he had brought a gift for his friend. Sensing Ruby?s magical surveillance of the item, he opened it to reveal several completely innocuous pieces of platinum jewelry and glittering rubies.

?It was her firstborn daughter?s,? he explained truthfully to the skeptical mage. ?It came into my possession after Alia?s death. I thought that Alysia might like to have it.? Of course, Sheagrandis didn?t volunteer that the gift had been part of the Skye treasury in Rhilshen until very recently. As the apprentice mage apparently didn?t know of enmity between Alysia and her late daughter, he felt no need to enlighten her.

He stepped into the foyer, wearing his most charming smile. She squinted at him, discerning the layer of illusion over his features. He managed a look of embarrassment and a blush. ?Is the mask slipping?? He coughed a little. ?I wear it so as not to offend. I was on the losing end of a duel with a man using a wand of acid ? he left my face unpleasantly changed, so his wife wouldn?t find me so attractive. The illusion restores the appearance of healthy skin.?

?Ah, well, Lady Skye is not home at the present, Ser Grandis. If you would like to leave your card, I will see that she receives it upon her return,? said Ruby, moving to stand before him.

?Do you know when she will return?? Sheagrandis handed her the casket with a cordial bow. As he straightened, he quickly glanced over the immediately apparent layout of the Manor. ?I?d like to meet her at the Red Dragon Inn for drinks. ?

?She did not say, and she asked to not be contacted in her absence.?

He nodded. ?I see. Well, I?m staying in town. If she leaves a message at the Red Dragon Inn, I?m sure I?ll receive it. Please ask her to do so upon her return.?

Sheagrandis bowed again and exited, whistling a low, long-forgotten melody. He headed for the outlying forest to await nightfall.

Sheagrandis · Date: 2005-11-27 13:24 EST

The theft of the soulsword itself had been ridiculously easy. His nimble skill at climbing served him well as he patiently made his way up from one handhold to another, angling toward a west facing balcony. With his body clad in rough black silk, Sheagrandis was nearly invisible against the dark stone walls of the manor.

Entry into the manor had proved slightly more time consuming; he sensed intricate and elaborate traps on the great glass door and took his time disengaging the wards. As the last one dissolved under his touch, he pressed his gloved fingertips to his lips, then to the scar sigil branded on his forehead. In the shadows, he smirked. The folly of the once-great, he thought. She still uses spells keyed to servants of the Guardian, without considering those who intend her destruction!

The assassin/priest pushed past heavy hangings insulating the room and crept into the Manor, listening closely for sounds of alarm or rousing of the few occupants within. He recognized the trappings of the room as belonging to the former Sovereign of Rhilshen and was amazed at his fortune. More so when he realized that the soulsword she usually wielded remained on a carved stand close to the canopy-shrouded bed.

The spell worked? He felt a sense of satisfaction. She left the blade here.

Sheagrandis quickly pulled off his gloves, pressed his fingertips together in an attitude of reverent prayer as he stepped closer to the sword. There was a word carved on the stand, Angylsblud, but he gave that little thought. His mind was fixed on only Lojwd?threndtalen, the Dragon God of Rhilshen, and he desperately hoped that under the clouding of the memory spell, the woman?s blade would react to him as a Priest rather than a hostile interloper.

One fingertip, then another. He stroked the flat of the blade, feeling it sing under his hand. A thin mist of blue rose from the dark metal, coiled about his hand as he lifted the sword. Voices shouted in his mind, urging him to hunt and draw blood, to taste that blood. He shuddered and muffled the blade in a wrapping of heavy black silk and exited as swiftly as possible.