[center][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/180428/81179b260873ea5d7d2bb904afb80c77.png[/img] [h1][color=Tan]Ferris Talese[/color] [b][color=00aeef]Chres Sansus[/color][/b][/h1][/center] [@Typical] [@hokumpocus] [@Pezz570] [hr] Octavio descended the stairs with agile, careful movements, distrustful of both the aged stone around him and entire situation in general. When they had at last arrived at the secret chamber, he wasn´t the least bit interested in the odd sight of men in rags tending to a pair of fires. He had seen far stranger things happening to people with less clothing in the parties certain wealthy nobles had hosted, and if it was something related to magic, then they were obviously going to keep their mouth shut about it. Even with his poor sense of smell he picked up faint traces of stale air. He wondered how Ferris felt whenever he winded up in caverns, dungeons, and the like, considering how much worse they could be once you started throwing diseased animals and corpses into the mix. Lynx had been quiet for some time now, keeping his thoughts to himself. [color=#ffff66][i]A familiar content with servitude…[/i][/color] The words were head by no one. He mulled some more, finally speaking to Octavio once he was satisfied with his theory. [color=#ffff66][i]This man clearly has a lot of protection. That ought to be a powerful incentive if you´re weak.[/i][/color] Ah, so he had been trying to justify acting like a brat. Octavio nearly sighed out loud. [color=dde0c7][i]Like us?[/i][/color] They had been ordered to remove their weapons before having entered the chamber, which had filled Octavio with unease. He had plotted to keep a few on him, but seeing his companions obey the command had persuaded him to follow suit. He didn´t want to be the reason they got impaled in a secret chamber after all. He was now without his twin daggers, throwing knives, and the jewelry that allowed him to summon illusions, and if that hadn´t been concerning enough, there were a handful of armed guards near each of the chamber´s many passages. A man inside the chamber spoke to them, his words causing confusion to color Octavio´s face. [color=dde0c7]“Theatric ones? What do you mean by that?”[/color] he asked, amused. A part of him wanted to desperately worry about how this man had learned about their exploits, but if Octavio´s encounter with the being of many names had taught him anything, it was that it was best to just let these people go ahead with their powermongering and hope you weren´t incinerated at some point. His own words, ones he had told the party far back, echoed in his mind. [color=dde0c7][i]If he wanted to kill us, then he would´ve already done it.[/i][/color] [hr] The black haired woman turned a lazy gaze to the silver haired man. “Kharu-Natjer,” She said. Her voice was melodic and smooth. “Mayhap these are not the people you thought. Should we let the dogs slit their throats?” Her words came much like a calm stream of flowing water, as if discussing of death was a natural routine for her. The dark skinned man sniffed at the woman’s words. “Wasteful.” He said. There was a dignity to his words. His voice was deep and rich. His accent, local to the Nation of Sight. “At the very least, do away with that abomination.” He motioned over to Ferris. “Its kind is unpredictable at best.” The Kharu-Natjer raised his hand silencing the two. [color=burlywood]“Peace, my friends.”[/color] He said [color=burlywood]“Our guests are simply apprehensive, is all. I’m sure you both can relate.”[/color] The dark skinned man let out a begrudging ‘Hmph’. He flicked his gaze back towards the black flames sprouting from the fire. Tightening the blanket wrapped around him, he leaned closer to the fire’s warmth. The woman said nothing. Her steady gaze studied the group. Her expression remained unreadable. Chres’ instincts told him this woman was dangerous. Best to keep an eye on her. [color=burlywood]“Or, perhaps I was incorrect.”[/color] The Kharu-Natjer continued. [color=burlywood]“Perhaps… some cleanup is required.”[/color] His smile deepened. [color=00aeef]"They had us surrounded.”[/color] Chres said. [color=00aeef]“The building was on fire. Escape by rooftop was a necessity.”[/color] [color=burlywood]“Indeed.”[/color] The Kharu-Natjer agreed. [color=burlywood]“It seems we share a mutual foe…”[/color] The silver haired man clapped his hands twice. On cue, the guards left the room. Four new male slaves entered replacing the guards. Three slaves carried cushioned chairs. The fourth had a comfortable looking mat that one would give a pet. Each of the slaves had the same orange-tan skin tone. Their faces also covered by veils. These slaves were better dressed than the ones tending the fire, though not by much. They wore a robe, of a similar style to the silver haired man’s garments. Unlike his clothes, theirs were thin and tattered. It stopped short around their knees and the sleeves had been ripped off. Their feet were bare and thick with calluses. The slaves placed the furnishings around the silver haired man and his group. Then as quickly as they had come, they left. Not a word to be said. [color=burlywood]“Come.”[/color] The Kharu-Natjer said. [color=burlywood]“Have a seat by the fire.”[/color] Hesitantly, Chres walked forward and took a seat. [hr] The woman’s words drew Ferris’ eyes to her, but Ferris’ attention was quickly refocused on the dark-skinned man across from her. Judging by the sneer earlier, the dark-skinned man had disdain for him at best, but though Ferris didn’t mind the label, he did mind the easy suggestions of death being thrown around. He’d pegged the organization as harsh, perhaps severe in their methods, but not unscrupulous; while Ferris and his companions were the ones that had sought them out, they were the ones who’d opened the door and asked them to remove their weapons, which they did as a sign of good faith. Their words now, then, suggested that they didn’t care for such gestures, didn’t care for the visit or their visitors in general, and that was unfortunate. Easing the situation over was Kharu-Natjer, or so the woman beside the center man had called him. Whether the name was a given name, a title, or some mixture of both was unclear, but he was the clear leader in the room, even with his suave manner of speech. Kharu-Natjer’s suggestion of ‘cleanup,’ followed by his ready acceptance of Chres’ words and summoning of some chairs for the group, had Ferris develop a dislike for The Watch. He’d assumed the group to be a righteous one, fighting to maintain the dignity of their people and nation, but with every other sentence they sunk lower, throwing threats around to get reactions despite knowing exactly why their visitors had come. It was a poor mockery of brandishing the carrot and stick, especially since Ferris and his companions had no way of knowing whether they held either, but when the man invited them to sit, Ferris heeded, taking the seat closest to dark-skinned man. Though he didn’t like to stir up the water, the sooner the man got the message that he was staying, the better. Besides, if they thought he was a threat, they wouldn’t have let him walk through the door, much less show him the path down. When he looked over, Ferris met his eyes, then slid his gaze back to Kharu-Natjer, who’d already established the peace. Abomination he might be, but it’d be a waste for The Watch to refuse help of any kind, given the state of their kingdom. [hr] The Kharu-Natjer gave a satisfied smiled as he watched everyone take a seat. [color=burlywood]"Wonderful."[/color] He said while absently snapping his fingers three times. He clasped his hands behind his back and turned to the fire. Three more slaves entered the room. These ones were female. Each wore black collars around their neck and the same veils as the men. They had a dirty white cloth wrapped intricately around their upper bodies accompanied by a moth-bitten skirt with a tattered drape that flowing down from their waist to just above their left ankle. Like the other slaves, these ones had a the same orange-tan skin tone. They entered with their heads were bowed, revealing a shaven head. Each carried a tray with food or drink. One carried a tray with wine. Another had bread and fruit. The third carried exotic cheeses. The slaves made their rounds to each of them. The woman took a few grapes. Lounging in the crevice of the sofa, She plucked a single grape from the bunch but did not lower the exaggerated turtle neck that covered the bottom of her face. Instead she stretched it outwards with her free hand. She dropped the grape into the opening and chewed. Her eyes never left the group. The Kharu-Natjer grabbed a glass of wine, and a pick of cheese. He ate the cheese, putting the stay pick back on the tray. He did not take a sip from his glass of wine, though. Instead, he held it to his lips as if in thought. The dark skinned man took nothing. Instead he gave the slaves a disdainful look and waved them away. He then turned his arrogance to Ferris, eyeing the Crazed with annoyance. He opened his mouth as if he were about to say something, but then thought better of it. Instead he sniffed and looked away. The slaves made their way to Chres. Taking the dark skinned man's lead, he waved them along as well. It didn't feel quite right being fed this way. The rest of the town was unable to get the food they needed. Instead of the helping the town which the food problem, these people instead seemed to be stockpiling their own stores. [color=00aeef]"The Watch seems quite comfortable considering everyone else in town will soon be starving."[/color] Chres said offhandedly. The woman said nothing in response to Chres's comment. Instead her eyes appear to twinkle with amusement. She dropped another grape beneath the cover of her turtle neck. The dark skinned man had quite the opposite reaction. His eye twitched as if Chres had hit a nerve. His lips curled upwards in a sneer. "The Watch-" He growled. "-was made by the people, for the people! These people do not represent our ideals." The comments caught Chres off guard. He had assumed that everything they encountered was of The Watch's doing. However, the man's words implied that he was mistaken. [color=Slategray][b]"One should not bite the hand that feeds it."[/b][/color] Talon said. His feathers ruffled and smooth excitedly. [color=Slategray][b]"Would you prefer my master to end our assistance to your cause?"[/b][/color] The bird leaned forward in his perch and stared down the man predatorily. [color=burlywood]"The watch... I see... so that's why you've come..."[/color] The Kharu-Natjer said as he lowered the wine glass from his lips. [color=burlywood]"Calm yourself Malkev... These people did not know that only one of us here represents The Watch."[/color] Chres narrowed his eyes. [color=00aeef][i]What was it the innkeeper had said?[/i][/color] He thought. [color=00aeef][i]That he knew of someone who might know where to find The Watch?[/i][/color] Chres re-evaluated The Kharu-Natjer. [color=00aeef][i]So then... who has our friend brought us too?[/i][/color] As if reading his mind, The Kharu-Natjer turned towards the group and answered. [color=burlywood]"Allow me to introduce myself, though I do not have a name in the strictest sense... It was traded long, long ago..."[/color] The Kharu-Natjer raised his glass to his lips and took a sip. [color=burlywood]"Those who know me have given me the name Kharu-Natjer... Though, it's more of a title really. I act as... a resource to some... An information broker to others."[/color] The Kharu-Natjer said, choosing his words carefully. [color=burlywood]"I suppose that is why your friend brought you here... Little did he know..."[/color] He smiled as if amused. The Kharu-Natjer stretched his palm to the dark skinned man. [color=burlywood]"To the left you have the Malkev. Head of The Watch."[/color] Malkev frowned, shifting uncomfortably in his seat at the mention of his title. [color=burlywood]"And to my right-"[/color] "Svephraey." The woman interrupted causally. She tossed another grape into her mouth. The Kharu-Natjer smiled, as he gave her a side long glance. [color=burlywood]"She's a-"[/color] "-I am the order to man's chaos." Svephraey continued ambiguously. "An unseen shadow who keeps the dogs loyal, while putting down the rabid... or-" Svephraey looked to each of them in turn, and then to the the final grape which she had delicately pulled from the bunch. She raised the grape level with her eye. "-those who like to talk." Absently, she squished the grape between her thumb and forefinger. Its remains were tossed into the fire behind her. The Kharu-Natjer chuckled softly. [color=burlywood]"I was going to say '-friend'."[/color] Svephraey eyed The Kharu-Natjer and shrugged.