Godsend, Part III
That took way too long for so little text... bleh.
- Part II
Godsend (Part III)
Author: jenovan
Rating: G
Warnings: none today!
Notes: 'Deo is so very dry. XD; That is all.
Amadeo did not lack for patience. Truly, an impatient assassin would be a fairly useless one, and he had not risen in the ranks of the Shadowmasters by being useless. He did, however, have a healthy amount of pride, which was being stung by his current assignment.
Like many thieves' guilds across Faerûn, the Shadowmasters of Teflamm were tightly bound to the Church of Mask. Their guildmaster was the high priest of the House of the Master's Shadow, the largest temple of the faith in all of Faerûn. Amadeo was even more closely tied to the church than most; the guildmaster believed him to be descended from the god himself, a distant by-blow of one of Mask's not-infrequent visits to the Prime Material plane.
It was no secret among the guild that he was a tiefling, anyway, but fortunately, his unusual bright blue eyes and white hair didn't necessarily single him out among normal folk. His slightly pointed ears were another matter entirely, but those were easily concealed. For all he knew, though, he could be descended from any common demon or devil. Why the guildmaster was so certain that Mask was Amadeo's forefather, he didn't know, but since it gave him a certain invulnerability within the guild, he didn't question it. In the end, it really mattered little to him.
Because of his alleged descent, however, Amadeo had been pressured by the guildmaster to serve the faith as a Seeker. In the Church of Mask, this generally meant espionage, theft, and the occasional assassination, all for the sake of the church rather than the guild or any one person. Amadeo had taken his vows of service somewhat reluctantly; while he knew as much or more of the faith itself than many junior priests, he did not consider himself a very spiritual person, and it seemed wrong for him to serve the church. Likewise, his very name, "beloved of the god", seemed more ironic and mocking (fitting, at least, for a servant of Mask) than a token of faith. But the supernatural powers that made him a superlative assassin, his birthright as a tiefling, also made for an excellent Seeker.
Most of the time, he had little to complain about. He traveled extensively throughout eastern Faerûn, which he enjoyed; he got to exercise his skills and stay sharp; he was beholden to very few superiors; and he worked alone. He had no friends in the Shadowmasters, and he only trusted in the guild-oaths so much. His tasks were dangerous enough that he would rather not have to guard against treachery, as well.
Such was his life, usually. But every so often, he was given a particularly easy task, or an apparently pointless one, and this seemed to be one of them.
Go to the village of Halidar and dispatch the demon there. It was an oddly altruistic mission, but the guildmaster had claimed that this was an order directly from the Lord of Shadows himself. Perhaps the demon had something of interest in its possession that Amadeo needed to "liberate". At first, he had wondered if the village had put a bounty on the demon, but once he actually arrived in the place, he could see that they did not have the resources to provide a meaningful reward.
In fact, he heard no mention of the demon at all by midday of the day after he had arrived. However, he had been lingering unobtrusively around the market (such as it was in the tiny town) when he had begun hearing chatter about someone named Meledren being "back". The tones of the voices speaking of this matter ranged from amazed to worried to angry. His curiosity piqued, Amadeo started listening more intently, but he could catch little about where this Meledren had come back from, and why his return was so disturbing.
By nightfall, he had gathered that Meledren was a "boy", so fairly young, and it did not seem to be actual dislike of him that was causing the widespread discomfort. Rather, it seemed that the circumstances of his return were the reason for alarm. Still, no one spoke much of it, as if the whole town already knew all the details. As it was, there was no way Amadeo could tell if this had anything to do with the demon at all, and getting more detailed information was clearly going to be tricky.
His stroke of luck finally came while he was returning to the inn for supper. A slender brown-haired boy was approaching the inn from the other direction, and virtually all of the people he passed seemed to give him a wide berth. Presumably, this was Meledren. Amadeo slowed his pace slightly to let the boy enter the taproom first, then followed to watch him. Sure enough, someone eventually called the boy by name -- he was Meledren. He seemed to be buying ale to take back home; intending to follow him, the Seeker slipped back outside, unnoticed, and waited a few yards down the road for Meledren to exit. It was a simple thing to fall in step with him as he passed.
"Meledren?" he murmured, causing the boy to flinch and nearly drop his earthenware jug.
The youth looked at him with a double-take, realizing that Amadeo was a complete stranger. "Wh-what do you want?" he asked, clearly trying to keep his voice steady.
Amadeo inclined his head apologetically, then pressed on. "I'm looking for information," he said quietly, "about a demon."
Meledren stiffened and looked straight ahead as he walked. "I don't know what you're talking about, sir."
A moment passed in silence while the Seeker let Meledren realize how stupid a lie that was. Finally, the man tried again. "I've been sent to kill him, you understand, so I could use any information about what he does."
The boy's pace finally slowed, and he turned to look at Amadeo again, perhaps trying to gauge his chances against the demon. "He talks," the youth finally said, his gaze sliding down to the ground. "He talks and casts spells with his voice. I think he doesn't like actual fighting."
It was an odd observation, but a potentially useful one; Amadeo nodded and sorted that tidbit away in his memory. "I do not wish to pry into details, but where have you returned from, and does it have anything to do with this demon?"
They had continued to walk down the street, though at a much slower pace. "...He held me prisoner," Meledren said tightly, staring hard at the ground. "But he let me go."
That bitter statement spawned a litter of questions, but Amadeo held his peace, focusing on the information that would actually help him finish his task. "Let you go? Why is that?"
"Someone... came to the barn. That's the demon's place, the old Inlieth barn south of town. He just walked right in and said he wanted to trade himself for me." Meledren sounded bewildered and a little angry. "The demon --" he faltered, clearly rethinking what he was going to say, "the demon agreed to it, so he let me go."
Well, that was puzzling. Who on earth would do something like that, unless they were confident that they could defeat the demon and make an escape? "Who was this man? You didn't know him?"
"I'd never seen him before in my life! He said he was a minstrel." The boy closed his eyes, as if trying to dredge through his memory. "I think the demon called him a Sunite."
Ah. Yes, it would take some sort of noble cloud-head like a faithful Sunite to do something so patently foolish. "Did he seem capable of defeating the demon, by strength or by guile?"
Meledren looked at him with a haunted expression and shook his head in negation. "He said..." He grimaced as if at an unpleasant taste. "The demon said that as part of the deal, he couldn't try to escape."
"...I see." The fingers of Amadeo's left hand flexed on the hilt of his kukri. What kind of idiot made a pact like that? A little annoyed, he wondered if this had something to do with his mission, but there was no way of knowing. "All right, I think I've got enough to go on. Thank you for your help," he said with a sharp nod, turning to head back to the inn.
"Are... are you really going to kill the demon?" Meledren asked.
"Well, I'm certainly going to try," the Seeker said over his shoulder. Indeed, as he walked the short distance up the street, he had already begun planning his attack.
- Part IV
- Part II
Godsend (Part III)
Author: jenovan
Rating: G
Warnings: none today!
Notes: 'Deo is so very dry. XD; That is all.
Amadeo did not lack for patience. Truly, an impatient assassin would be a fairly useless one, and he had not risen in the ranks of the Shadowmasters by being useless. He did, however, have a healthy amount of pride, which was being stung by his current assignment.
Like many thieves' guilds across Faerûn, the Shadowmasters of Teflamm were tightly bound to the Church of Mask. Their guildmaster was the high priest of the House of the Master's Shadow, the largest temple of the faith in all of Faerûn. Amadeo was even more closely tied to the church than most; the guildmaster believed him to be descended from the god himself, a distant by-blow of one of Mask's not-infrequent visits to the Prime Material plane.
It was no secret among the guild that he was a tiefling, anyway, but fortunately, his unusual bright blue eyes and white hair didn't necessarily single him out among normal folk. His slightly pointed ears were another matter entirely, but those were easily concealed. For all he knew, though, he could be descended from any common demon or devil. Why the guildmaster was so certain that Mask was Amadeo's forefather, he didn't know, but since it gave him a certain invulnerability within the guild, he didn't question it. In the end, it really mattered little to him.
Because of his alleged descent, however, Amadeo had been pressured by the guildmaster to serve the faith as a Seeker. In the Church of Mask, this generally meant espionage, theft, and the occasional assassination, all for the sake of the church rather than the guild or any one person. Amadeo had taken his vows of service somewhat reluctantly; while he knew as much or more of the faith itself than many junior priests, he did not consider himself a very spiritual person, and it seemed wrong for him to serve the church. Likewise, his very name, "beloved of the god", seemed more ironic and mocking (fitting, at least, for a servant of Mask) than a token of faith. But the supernatural powers that made him a superlative assassin, his birthright as a tiefling, also made for an excellent Seeker.
Most of the time, he had little to complain about. He traveled extensively throughout eastern Faerûn, which he enjoyed; he got to exercise his skills and stay sharp; he was beholden to very few superiors; and he worked alone. He had no friends in the Shadowmasters, and he only trusted in the guild-oaths so much. His tasks were dangerous enough that he would rather not have to guard against treachery, as well.
Such was his life, usually. But every so often, he was given a particularly easy task, or an apparently pointless one, and this seemed to be one of them.
Go to the village of Halidar and dispatch the demon there. It was an oddly altruistic mission, but the guildmaster had claimed that this was an order directly from the Lord of Shadows himself. Perhaps the demon had something of interest in its possession that Amadeo needed to "liberate". At first, he had wondered if the village had put a bounty on the demon, but once he actually arrived in the place, he could see that they did not have the resources to provide a meaningful reward.
In fact, he heard no mention of the demon at all by midday of the day after he had arrived. However, he had been lingering unobtrusively around the market (such as it was in the tiny town) when he had begun hearing chatter about someone named Meledren being "back". The tones of the voices speaking of this matter ranged from amazed to worried to angry. His curiosity piqued, Amadeo started listening more intently, but he could catch little about where this Meledren had come back from, and why his return was so disturbing.
By nightfall, he had gathered that Meledren was a "boy", so fairly young, and it did not seem to be actual dislike of him that was causing the widespread discomfort. Rather, it seemed that the circumstances of his return were the reason for alarm. Still, no one spoke much of it, as if the whole town already knew all the details. As it was, there was no way Amadeo could tell if this had anything to do with the demon at all, and getting more detailed information was clearly going to be tricky.
His stroke of luck finally came while he was returning to the inn for supper. A slender brown-haired boy was approaching the inn from the other direction, and virtually all of the people he passed seemed to give him a wide berth. Presumably, this was Meledren. Amadeo slowed his pace slightly to let the boy enter the taproom first, then followed to watch him. Sure enough, someone eventually called the boy by name -- he was Meledren. He seemed to be buying ale to take back home; intending to follow him, the Seeker slipped back outside, unnoticed, and waited a few yards down the road for Meledren to exit. It was a simple thing to fall in step with him as he passed.
"Meledren?" he murmured, causing the boy to flinch and nearly drop his earthenware jug.
The youth looked at him with a double-take, realizing that Amadeo was a complete stranger. "Wh-what do you want?" he asked, clearly trying to keep his voice steady.
Amadeo inclined his head apologetically, then pressed on. "I'm looking for information," he said quietly, "about a demon."
Meledren stiffened and looked straight ahead as he walked. "I don't know what you're talking about, sir."
A moment passed in silence while the Seeker let Meledren realize how stupid a lie that was. Finally, the man tried again. "I've been sent to kill him, you understand, so I could use any information about what he does."
The boy's pace finally slowed, and he turned to look at Amadeo again, perhaps trying to gauge his chances against the demon. "He talks," the youth finally said, his gaze sliding down to the ground. "He talks and casts spells with his voice. I think he doesn't like actual fighting."
It was an odd observation, but a potentially useful one; Amadeo nodded and sorted that tidbit away in his memory. "I do not wish to pry into details, but where have you returned from, and does it have anything to do with this demon?"
They had continued to walk down the street, though at a much slower pace. "...He held me prisoner," Meledren said tightly, staring hard at the ground. "But he let me go."
That bitter statement spawned a litter of questions, but Amadeo held his peace, focusing on the information that would actually help him finish his task. "Let you go? Why is that?"
"Someone... came to the barn. That's the demon's place, the old Inlieth barn south of town. He just walked right in and said he wanted to trade himself for me." Meledren sounded bewildered and a little angry. "The demon --" he faltered, clearly rethinking what he was going to say, "the demon agreed to it, so he let me go."
Well, that was puzzling. Who on earth would do something like that, unless they were confident that they could defeat the demon and make an escape? "Who was this man? You didn't know him?"
"I'd never seen him before in my life! He said he was a minstrel." The boy closed his eyes, as if trying to dredge through his memory. "I think the demon called him a Sunite."
Ah. Yes, it would take some sort of noble cloud-head like a faithful Sunite to do something so patently foolish. "Did he seem capable of defeating the demon, by strength or by guile?"
Meledren looked at him with a haunted expression and shook his head in negation. "He said..." He grimaced as if at an unpleasant taste. "The demon said that as part of the deal, he couldn't try to escape."
"...I see." The fingers of Amadeo's left hand flexed on the hilt of his kukri. What kind of idiot made a pact like that? A little annoyed, he wondered if this had something to do with his mission, but there was no way of knowing. "All right, I think I've got enough to go on. Thank you for your help," he said with a sharp nod, turning to head back to the inn.
"Are... are you really going to kill the demon?" Meledren asked.
"Well, I'm certainly going to try," the Seeker said over his shoulder. Indeed, as he walked the short distance up the street, he had already begun planning his attack.
- Part IV