A soft tapping at the back door is barely heard. Shaddar senses the approach of eight minds long before he hears the sound and directs Loolipo to see to the door. The minotaur turns towards the sound, alert for any danger. Cutt is upstairs with Jorin and Bort, organizing and stowing the mounds of loot and coin collected from the days activities.
The kuo-toa opens the door, but the alleyway is apparently empty. She peers into the darkness, but sees nothing.
Shaddar does not need to rely on such mundane senses as mere sight. He can feel their minds and tastes the fear of those hiding in the dark at their own audacity in disturbing “a person place” – let alone entering one. This timidity will not do.
“Come in! Come in, my friends! Don’t be shy.”
Through the door steps the drow woman Shaddar met earlier in the slums, followed by two large drow males. They are all fearful of being inside a place that has obviously been forbidden to them. The drow men are active-looking types who are dressed slightly better than the threadbare dress their guide is wearing.
Seeing that no reprimand comes, but that instead Shaddar greets the dark elves warmly with open and welcoming gestures, the drow are followed by a group of hobgoblins. The three that Shaddar spoke with at the brothel are accompanied by two other males. Both of the new hobgoblins are huge brutes with massive muscles, obviously they have some very physical job that has kept them in fine shape, very unlike the weedy-looking male that was working in the brothel.
Those that Shaddar implanted with the powerful suggestion that he could do anything are a bit leery, but those who have yet to be convinced are quite nervous. The strangers are ready to bolt for the door should anyone make a sudden move or loud exclamation.
All of them look fit, if a bit underfed. Overall, Shaddar is satisfied. Toothsnatcher shifts his stance a bit and all of the newcomers are clearly surprised to find that the huge monster is alive and not some kind of illusion or statue. They eye the beast warily.
Shaddar speaks calmly, “Honored guests! I’m so glad you were able to come. Here! Sit at this table I have prepared for you. Loolipo! Bring the food out at once for my guests! Hawke, I require wine and ale! Toothsnacher, you will serve my guests their drinks!”
Loolipo bows her head in acquiescence and soon returns with bowls filled to the brim with steaming beef stew. Toothsnacher brings over the bottles of wine and a small keg of ale at Shaddar’s request.
“Sit, my friends. Enjoy! I have eaten my fill earlier, but it would rude to discuss our business before you have been fully satisfied with victuals yourselves!”
When they still hesitate, casting uncertain glances at Hawke who is scowling furiously, Shaddar offers further encouragement. “This is not a test, merely a courtesy. Your days of eating gruel are over! From now on you can eat whatever I place before you.” He chuckles in what he hopes is a friendly-sounding way as he goes on, “Don’t insult me, now! The cook has worked hard on this fine meal!”
Hawke is perplexed by the reference to gruel, but he hasn’t got any other clue that his current guests are not human. Not yet. And if Shaddar is careful he won’t for a time. Best to leave that bit of conflict for another day if it can be allowed to simmer. Besides, Hawke’s reaction to the true nature of Shaddar and his guests is something of an experiment. How will the man react when he finds out the truth? It will be a most useful test to see how the revelation will be handled by other residents of the city when and if that time comes.
One of the drow is not convinced by Shaddar’s gracious words. He screws up his courage and speaks, “On what authority do you do this?”
“On my own authority. I am a higher authority than one of you has ever imagined.”
This seems to do nothing but confuse the newcomers. Those who have already been ‘modified’ nod their heads with slight smiles. Shaddar waves the question aside with his tentacles and adds, “I’ll prove it to you – just give me time. For now, however, it is time to feast!”
The confidence of his manner combined with the savory aroma of the food and drink is enough to help them make the correct decision. They sit down. Slowly at first, they begin to sample the meal, but they quickly begin to consume the food at a rate which is a bit alarming. Clearly, they are not in the habit of eating such excellent food. Shaddar is perfectly willing to allow them to stuff themselves – they will need their strength to do his bidding. The liquor is having a fine effect as well, relaxing their fears and loosening their thoughts. That will make things so much easier later.
Shaddar hopes to teach the drow in particular about the culture that they have apparently lost. Perhaps the brainmate can be of some use in this task? Or perhaps there is something that will help in the locked scrollcase he found in his master’s pocket?
He mentally summons Loolipo. Soon she shuffles to his side. Shaddar hands the scrollcase to her and commands, “Open this for me when you can. Return it as soon as you pick the lock.” She takes the case and is already examining the intricate mechanism as she leaves the room.
Best not to depend on the faint possibility that there is a treatise on drow history in the scrollcase. No. He resolves to use the knowledge that brainmate carries combined with his own experiences to transmit as much of the information about drow culture available to him directly into the minds of the dark elves who seem to have lost it. This mental barrage combined with a subtle psychic suggestion to accept the knowledge as the glorious truth might win some of them over and transform these submissive slaves into the clever and aggressive pawns that he will require.
“The dark elves will form the elites of my army, the public face of the rebellion that I plan to foster here. They will commune with me and I will give them authority over my forces when I am not present. The hobgoblins are ideally suited to become my foot-soldiers and enforcers; certainly they must be more numerous due to their much higher reproduction rate.”
Shaddar is less concerned with the difficulties in winning over the hobgoblins. It is in their very nature to be aggressive and enjoy regimented conflict. He will merely provide an alternate outlet for the release of these natural and normal tendencies.
The 3 drow and 5 hobgoblins are certainly relishing their meal. Hawke shakes his head in anger periodically, usually after one of the hobgoblins releases a belch or loud slurp. Satisfied noises of enjoyment are nearly constant.
“Table manners of pigs,” Hawke thinks in disgust. “And the stew isn’t that good. Why, they act like they’ve never had beef stew before!”
While the food is a welcome distraction, none of his guests can stop thinking worried thoughts about their being in a place that has been forbidden to them. The hobgoblins in particular are frightened. Shaddar is quite curious about this.
“I will reeducate them, naturally, but how were these fierce warrior races so thoroughly trained or conditioned to begin with? What methods were used? Might I be able to use the technique myself to ‘handle’ the current masters of the city, I wonder?”
As he ponders these new creatures and samples their thoughts to better understand each of them he hears Jorin, Bort, and Cutt descend the stairs behind him and turns to face them.
Cutt reports, “All is accomplished as you commanded, master.”
Jorin and Bort freeze mid-step as they see Shaddar’s guests eating in the middle of the hall.
“Wh-? Wha-? What? What is this?!” sputters Jorin with an indignant look on his face.
Bort’s mouth drops open and he stares in disbelief at the feasting hobgoblins and dark elves.
“Really now! Is that any way to greet your new fellow guild members?” Shaddar admonishes jovially.
“Fellow members?” gasps Jorin in revulsion.
All of the hobgoblins and drow have stopped eating and are paying close attention to this exchange.
“Calm yourself now,” Shaddar warns, his eyes narrowing dangerously. “I told you to trust me. Trust in my direction. I haven’t led you astray so far, have I?”
“But… this is unnatural,” Bort says with a shake of his head.
Clearly, they will need further convincing than simple demands for obedience.
“What is it that makes it unnatural?” Shaddar questions. “Change is very natural. I was a change for you, was I not? And has it not been a good thing? For you?”
“Well… Yes, but this…” Jorin begins hesitantly. Bort elbows his friend in the ribs and tosses his head upstairs. From their thoughts, they both are upset by this turn of events and Bort wants to discuss their response to it privately. Jorin amazingly seems to comprehend his accomplice’s unstated desire and they turn and march huffily back up towards their room.
“A problem I will need to address later,” Shaddar thinks. “How irritating. They will just have to deal with it.” Or he will deal with them…
Shaddar quickly checks Hawke’s thoughts to see if Jorin and Bort have given the game away. Luckily, the man is such a staunch racist, he can’t conceive that lumpys and palehairs would ever enter his hall.
“All his talk about how change is good… Bah! Change is not good,” the man thinks while frowning deeply, “The established order is what’s good. Everyone knows that! It keeps everything working well and everyone happy. That’s the way the Lords of the city and the Lords of the Realm put it together and that’s not going to change!”
Shaddar’s tentacles gesticulate in motions of confident certainty as he thinks, “Change is inevitable…”
Chapter 1 < Chapter 12 Chapter 14 >
No comments:
Post a Comment