Welcome to Gaia! ::

Located just to the west of the Market District, the city square is a bustling center of activity at all hours. In the center is a raised podium with messaging boards on its four sides.These message boards are free to the public, thou they are routinely stripped clean for fresh posting once a cycle. This is where mercenaries come to check the boards for work and where people come to post news or messages. Be warned, thieves and cut purses are known to stalk the crowd.

Amoung the throngs of cityfolk, Serethiel stood, her face masked by Baeste's older one.

"I have returned".

The magnitude, the crackling power in that voice...

She shivered.

Val'atar.

Serethiel wanted to crawl out of her skin.

Disappear.

To be on the receiving end of that wrath invited a feeling that suggested death would be not so ugly.

Sudden nausea threatened to steal her balance. Her heart beat furiously, like a frightened bird against a pane of glass. She had not been prepared for this day, though she knew long ago it would come.
Better to face her master sooner rather than later... but how? A thousand desperate thoughts racked her brain-- she had to. Lifting her gaze, she met his ruby stare, and knew that he saw...

The drowess was on her knees now.

"Ilharn..."

Terror overwhelmed her. She rose slowly between panicked gulps of air, the ground beneath her spinning. Her body trembled violently as she moved toward him, as any beaten dog would crawl back to its master.

That silvery whisper pervaded her mind like an all-knowing hand, tearing and jerking-- each slight touch drawing a tremor from her tiny frame.

Running would gain her far worse than any suicide. She ambled forward with the pace of a funeral march, stopping only when she fell at his feet.

"I-Ilharn... Val'atar..."

She'd expected death. A strike. A spell.

None were dealt... yet.

In all her long years of servitude to Qu'ellar Druu'giir, Serethiel could count on one hand the times Val'atar had ever touched her. Not even a finger-- yet his grip over her was like a noose; his words sharper than any knife. Serethiel was bound. Even in his absence, she had felt her lord's cold grasp. He'd haunted her dreams nightly in a torturous phantom of mirth.

Her eyes lowered. It was customarily a grave offense to lock gazes with one's master. Shock hadn't outweighed discipline.
"Beside me my child... return to your place as my servant."
The words drew her like moths to the flame: that wretched, familiar hiss, instilling a comfort that was not her own.

The ashen form of Bae'este melted away, left with only her wispy body.

"I-.. As you wish, Jabbuk."
She shut out the murmurs, shut out the carnal illusions they promised. Falsehoods, one and all. Death was her purpose. There was no other for an agent of demise, but a lowly pawn on the table of her king.

Though fear still lingered, the scathing glances of his audience were now growing more apparent. Obediently, wearily, Serethiel shrank behind him, head lowered dutifully in silence to wonder what horrors awaited her behind closed doors.

"Ilharn.. Much has transpired in your absence. I dare not ask your mercy. Welcome home," Serethiel whispered through gritted teeth.

Quick fleeting foot steps, stealthy hands, and plenty of hiding, allowed Valdear to gather what he thought was a healthy amount of money.

"Amazin', yur real 'ood." The voice was from a competing girl thief. Her eyes were glued to the new batch of glittering coins in his hand.

"Here" He tossed a coin over to her. She was young and caught it with ease. "All you have to do is be mindful. I remember back when I was starting. Nearly lost my hand cause I wasn't mindful."

The girl nodded, but he wasn't fooled. She waiting for him to be un-mindful and snatch his winnings.

"Hey, are you part of group or something? You know like part of a big thieves group." He asked leaning back into the shadows as he noted a warrior marching by.

"Na...I don't be part of those t'in's" She said hidding like him. "T'ose be wit' t'e Qu'ellars. T'ey be 'iven over most of t'ey're stuff. T'ou I eard that City Lord is t'e worst, he enslaves t'em."

His eye widened. That news connected well with the other news. Valdaer couldn't believe, though I have to admit that the repeating news sounds convincing. Maybe Druu'giir could raise people from the dead, maybe he was actually a demon who eaten not only his mother, but his children, and had lived far longer then anyone should.

A quick movement at his side was stopped by his fist. The girl flew out of the shadows and hit the ground, while Valdaer moved deeper into the shadows.

With the news of Val'atars return spreading like fire on a spiders web, Many groups both loyal and opposed to the lord of Aushinduago began to stir once more. A cloaked figure slipped into a discreet tavern overlooking the city square and hurried to the back room. In the darkness of the chamber a council of many races was present, silently waiting for his arrival. The Yuan-ti hung if cloak and gave a curt nod to the stoic group gathered. Assassins all, each being had a hand on some kind of blade warily eyeing each other and keeping their backs to the walls. Sstraal gave a curt nod to an elegantly dressed drowess across the room. Mayolin had been his Second in command Sstraal knew that there was something more between them though her would ever admit it openly. The Yuan-ti drew an ornate dagger from his cloak and drove the point into the table in the center of the room. One by one the others joined him and the Council of the Assassins Guild sat. "Welcome Brotherss and Ssissterss of Xukuth D'Roesssor. As you all know by now, Lord Reivan was ssslain during the uprisssing at the Temple Of Ssscaless. I believe it isss time to officiate a new Guildmassster." A rough Grey dwarf spoke up. "Thinkin' of yerself are yeh snake?" "Of coursse in hisss absssencce I wasss the one to gather you all? I wasss hisss ssecond in command before. It isss my right." He said calmly, slited eyes scanning the room. "Unless there are any other nominations?" he added and noted the glances shared by all...even Mayolin. It was then she spoke up. "We have already chosen Sstraal my dear." she cooed with an odd grin, motioning to the shadows next to her. A humaoid covered in odd peices of armor and cloth, Donning a silver helm stepped into the dim light. "And what claim doess he have to the guildsss leadership?" Sstraal said, standing up a sudden feeling of unease washing over him, an unexplained panic clouding his mind as he reached for his weapon. He never laid a hand on his saber, an agonizing pain joltign through his body and then darkness. The serpent spine had been ripped from his body, taking the skull along with it, the grim trophy now hung from Ironclaws hand. Mayolin smiled and took her seat among the others, the new Guildmaster taking Sstraals seat and continuing the meeting.

Ironclaw paused a moment as he came out of the meeting with the other assassins, a feline had slid past his legs and through the crowd, catchign his attention briefly. He pondered what such a creature was doing in the city but eventually came to the conclusion it was probably some patron or matron's pet running loose. Heads of house seemed to always keep odd pets. he mused, remembering the many-tailed creature that Val'Atar had once kept. rubbing his arm instinctively he slipped back into the throng heading to the docks to inspect the guild hall.