eastbound | un: raven master

( The single most exasperated sigh of this world, returning to defend the title: ) Good morning. This is the Merchant. I trust you are not adding to the blood, bones and burning of your present accommodations.

( But if this tone is to go by, that trust is... short-lived. ) You are aware I negotiated your stay at castle Netvor as a last-minute arrangement. We owe the prince a debt of gratitude. Master Anurr, a lord of dead and winds of the west, has decided to pursue what he believes to be his right of claim against the allied Brotherhood of the dead in nearby terrains. The blizzard we experience are echoes of Anurr's impressive and growing prowess.

( A pause, then, almost academically: ) In recent months — in the time since our acquaintance — certain matters have come to light: the first, that the sickness of the undead that spawned the Brotherhood was been born in my motherland of Ellethia, now decimated. My people raced to prove their supremacy over the magical prodigies of Taravast. We both succeeded and failed.

The man who oversaw that... endeavour appears to have since been walking the realms and spreading the dark waters that propagate the undead, seeking to itself gain physicality by inhabiting corpses. Once risen, the dead tend to assemble under warlords, the most notable and substantive of which is the allied Brotherhood. That much is straightforward and direct. The intentions of Matthias are less clear.

After your rest here, we must pursue him. Whether he can be undone by word or deed, his defeat appears to be the only worthwhile solution. We head to Hatthevar, on his footsteps. Not only in search for him, but also to reach a necklace of beacons that will hopefully end your stay here.

Until then: gather your strengths. Learn to cooperate. And do not make more enemies we cannot afford. I remain your devoted collaborator, if not your friend.

( ooc: threadjacking encouraged! )

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

The same scouting and information system I apply for all our deployments.

Is there a point to this line of inquiry past your attempts to egg me on?

[ There really are times when he sounds remarkably like dear old Dad. So fine, he can be honest. ]

Can you blame me? We aren't new acquaintances, and I know there's more to you than you've let slip. I think I've earned some preferential treatment, at least when it comes to your sources.

I know what you think about working with the undead, but you haven't given us many great alternatives to consider.

When has consorting with the dead ever benefitted you? Name me one circumstance.

That's yet to be seen.

You do remember that you arranged that I act as their advisor for the last few months. You brokered the deal that got me a place in their encampment in Ephes. Why do that, if you didn't think they could be manipulated?

Because at times, for all you all believe me omnipotent, I lack options for how and where to position you. I keep reminding you: my resources and reach are not inexhaustible.

Are you calling it an oversight?

I am calling it the only move permissible at the time.

Little good did you do in that position.

Good is a relative term. I wasn't found out, and Messalina got her army, which is what I was getting paid for.

You aren't the only one lacking options.