Open Chronicles Piercing the Gates

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It began in a tavern, enshrouded in shadow. The low roads of the deep realm held treasures old and wonderful - the Inn of Forgotten Dreams among them. Originally a trading post that connected the both the ancient Dwarven realms and the Drow Empire, now the only thing that remained in the desolate town was the tavern.

It would have to do. Strategically located near the Dwarves fortress-city of Belgrath, Quarro, the Houndmaster, sent two Hounds to investigate. Slaine arrived quietly. Everything she did was quiet, now that her tongue was cut. She let her physicality speak for her. She shoved past a drunken Drow upon entrance and took a position at a small, goblin-filled table. Her eyes swept the bar for her contact - or their prey.

A dwarven merchant with deep pockets and deeper ties to Belgrath. The Hounds quarry. She curled her hand into a fist, veins bulging against the tips of her knuckles with anticipation. How would Slaine communicate without any words?

Nyssiel
 
The Inn of Forgotten Dreams smelled of stale fungus ale and the cold, metallic sweat of desperate drow and goblins. It was a tomb of a town, but inside the tavern, the air was probably thick enough to choke a surface-dweller.

In the corner of the establishment was none other than Tiff Noomron.

The Kapmadillo merchant was currently engaged in what appeared to be a high-stakes game of dice with a trio of surly goblins. His purple top hat was pushed back, revealing a brow beaded with moisture, but his grin remained as wide as ever.

To any other observer, he was just another eccentric trader losing coin. However, his true purpose was to acquire a seal for his document forgery activities on the surface. Human Nobles in Vel Anir would pay a handsome sum for a genuine dwarven seal.

Being in such proximity to the Fortress-City filled him with hope that an official might have passed through before the town fell into desertion and inadvertently misplaced theirs. It was simply a question of following up on leads.

Slaine Aylwin
 
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Moving in soundlessly seemed to be a theme with Hounds. Beside Slaine was Hound only slightly less stature and bulk. His eyes were more resigned than wary. An expressive silence followed the two. The expression being that anyone approaching without good reason was sure for a swift kick in the teeth.

He had picked up rather quickly that he might have to do a great deal more talking than usual. Made a bit vexing by the fact that Slaine knew much more about what they were looking for. Though there was a sort of equality among the hounds, being that they all tended to be very aware they were all on the bottom rung together, he would normally still have deferred leadership of the mission to her.
Nys gathered he would need to be a bit more of an active participant in this case.

He too gave a bit of a slow look around the bar until his eyes fell on a curious creature. Nyssiel found it immediately charming, who knew little beasts could wear hats? He nudged Slaine and pointed at the purple attired merchant. Even had he not been wearing a mask there would be no smile, but there was certainly an air of amusement in Nyssiel's eyes.

Slaine Aylwin
Tiff Noomron
 
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