"Welcome, my children,” he says in a deep resonant voice that has an almost inhuman quality to it. “Training is at an end. You have proven yourself worthy. Now, it is time for you to use that training and take on your first mission.
"Your mission is war, my children. You will bring war to Talingarde."He turns his gaze to Elise Zadaria, the raven haired witch who leads the Eigth Knot. "I am setting you upon a mission of murder in the north. You and your team will travel by land to the watch wall and there you will carry out the targetted disgrace and murder of key members of the military and nobility. You will ensure that Taligarde is ill prepared for an invasion."
To the Ninth Knot he assigns a two part task. First, they are to smuggle a shipment of weapons to an army of bugbears gathering north of the watch wall. Second, they are to infiltrate the fortress of Balentyne and throw open its gates for the waiting bugbear horde.
"But not all of you will be travelling north just yet. Baleon, step forward. If we are to win this war we need more than just barbarous bugbears for allies. We need to sow discord from within as well as wreaking calamity from without. And so it is time to make use of your particular talents and for you to embrace your birthright."
Baleon shifts nervously from one foot to the other, the eyes of all seven of Thorn's other disciples upon him.
Oblivious, or perhaps enjoying the elf's discomfort, Thorn continues. "You came to this land at the behest of your sister, seeking an artifact from your people's past. I tell you now that this was a ruse. No such artifact exists in the tomb you were instructed to plunder."
Baleon is sent reeling at this revelation. "How," he manages to stutter, "how do you know this?"
Thorn smiles thinly. "My dear disciple, you know the answer to that." He steeples his fingers and leans forward. "Your people long ago turned to the dark father Asmodeus, and I am his most loved servant in all Talingarde, above and below..."
Baleon, shakes his head at the implication in Thorn's words. Three months ago the thought of some weak willed human rising higher in the infernal hierarchy than even the lowliest drow priest of Zhaanzen-Kryr let alone even his mother, the matriarch, would have been laughable, but after witnessing Thorn's power, learning at his feet . . Baleon drops his eyes to the ground and listens intently to his new master.
"It was a quest you were never to return from Baleon; a way for your sister to rid herself of her mother's favoured son in advance of her bid for the throne.
"But such artifacts as you were sent to fetch do exist, and I will guide you to one. So armed, you will return triumphant to you people, and secure their aid in the coming war.
"You will not be alone on these missions. The drow of Zhaanzen-Kryr need to see that drow and human are already united in this goal, and so you will be accompanied by Trick Rackburn from the Eighth Knot."
The room erupts in protest as Trick, his brother Trak, and their leader Elise all react to the unexpected announcement. "You can't take my cleric away!" roars Elise.
Thorn cuts her off with a withering stare. "I can't?" There is ice in his voice and hellfire in his eyes and Elise immediately backs away, stammering, as a wave of almost palpable otherworldly rage washes across the room. "I can and will use the tools at my disposal to accomplish Asmodeus's divine will and exact revenge upon this wretched island!"
He sits back down, calm and collected once more. "Baleon, Trik," he slides a leather folio across his desk. "This contains the location of the artifact you seek and then name of a man who can get you access. I trust you will be able to find your way to Zhaanzen-Kryr on your own from there. Don't tarry. You both need to rejoin your respective knots in the north before the end of the month."
He dismisses the two with a casual wave. "You leave before first light tomorrow. . . Tiadora, show them to the stables."
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Baleon's mind raced as he walked at a quickened pace to his small room. His bag, tucked away under the head of his bed, contained all that he owned at the moment. His armor, weapons and equipment, all gifts from the Cardinal.
Baleon fixed his dagger into the spring-loaded wrist sheath affixed to his wrist and flicked his wrist. The dagger sprung forward and stuck out almost a foot from his palm. He let a sardonic smirk curve one side of his mouth before double checking his bag once more. Satisfied, he slung the bag over his shoulder and across his back and adjusted his cloak to rest over it.
"To home, then." he whispered to himself before leaving the room. Tiadora waited outside his room and walked without a word once Baleon had exited. Silently, the Drow followed.
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