Shaddar is not looking forward to his meeting with the last newcomer. His thoughts are almost as shifty as his beady eyes. Another spy sent by a band’s chief. He is eager to gain Shaddar’s confidence (not likely) and to betray him – or failing that, he hopes to be able to betray his current employers in some grand way. Disgusting.
True, being an informant is a time-honored pastime among the illithid, but this hobgoblin does not betray his fellows for gain or for favor. No. He does it because he enjoys being a traitor. This sickens Shaddar. Betrayal is fine so far as it goes. It is the hallmark of any proper culture after all, but to burn ones bridges just to watch them blacken and collapse? With not a promise or contract of profit? It is a twisted perversion of proper behavior. The mark of a mere animal.
“But what else can I expect from these lessor races?” Shaddar reminds himself, “They will forever lack the culture and refinement of the master illithid race, unless we direct them and control them. And so I shall.”
His thoughts rally to this thought and he enters the room. As he read from the slimy-feeling thoughts of this fellow, he has been waiting for this audience.
The hobgoblin bows low, with his arms spread wide. He looks to be average in strength for his race, with pinched facial features. Ugly even to his own kind, Shaddar can see.
“Allow me to introduce myself, sir! I am Tegoz,” he says with a false humility that is woefully transparent to Shaddar. He continues with a voice filled with whining pretended awe, “Your generosity knows no bounds! I will be forever grateful for the delights I have experienced this night! Think of me as one of your own kinsmen – for I will be true to you forever!”
“Do such simple tricks actually fool the other hobgoblins? Amazing,” Shaddar thinks with exasperation. Enough of this. He refuses to play the game of this insect.
Tegoz continues his obviously prepared speech. “I was surprised, sir, when the lowest among us came to tell us of such an offering. Those we cast out to work in the brothels for their crimes usually do not live very long. Why did you come to the lowest of us all first – instead of the highest that would have been so much more fitting of one such as yourself?” A greasy eyebrow is raised in question.
Shaddar’s tentacles twitch with amusement as he is inspired by this speech with an idea that will allow him to turn the tables on this filth-eater. “I must confess. And please, don’t tell anyone this! It could ruin my station! But I am just a philanthropic soul and even the lowest of the low need some hope. By giving these a small taste of joy, they will be able to remain productive members of society – happy with their lot in life. That’s really all I’m doing. It’s very simple. But the simplicity requires secrecy! So do not tell anyone my secret, or the illusion would be shattered and my charitable work would be for naught!”
“Sir! I would never tell another soul!”
“I knew I could count on you. It’s so fine to have someone to trust – to be able to unburden myself to someone of your specific caliber! It is certain that you are of a higher station and are not in need of my charity. My secret is safe with you, is it not?”
“Oh, yeah,” Tegoz says in a tone of voice that comes across as sarcastic and not sincere. His thoughts are filled with delight at his prevarication, however he doesn’t believe that Shaddar is telling him the truth either.
“What is he hiding? Such an obvious lie! And that ugly illusion that he hides his face with… No. I have not heard the truth of why he is calling for hobgoblins and palehairs to stay with him as guests. I have the instincts of a weasel about these kinds of things,” Tegoz thinks while putting on an ingratiating smile that does not reach his eyes. “Perhaps Kug or one of the low-lifes from the brothel can tell me more. Perhaps he has been more forthcoming with them? Yes! I will try to find out what he said to them in the morning!”
Shaddar’s tentacles twitch. Unless he misses his guess, such activity will result in Kug using him as a punching bag. A not unpleasant eventuality.
On this happy note, he takes his leave and exits the room.
Soon he lies down on his new bed in his new (and somewhat drafty – must get that seen to tomorrow) room. It is difficult for him to fall asleep – his mind is churning with plans, possibilities, and excitement. Luckily, Hawke is also having a difficult time getting to sleep on the floor below and the man’s worried and angry train of thought soon soothes him into slumber like a lullaby.
The next morning Shaddar is awake before dawn. His race needs only a few hours of sleep a night. No one in the building is awake yet; he can sense that. He rises and continues his contemplation of future plans.
Hawke wakes up only when the three minds that must belong to Widow Cottondur and her daughters arrive. Shaddar follows their conversation easily by listening in on how they perceive each other’s communication.
Hawke says, “We have house full of all new guests. Well, except for Jorin and Bort. At any rate, none of them are to be disturbed. That’d be for the best. They’ll do their own cleaning and the like. Very private folk, you understand? It’s all part of the rental arrangement they’ve made with me.”
“Oh? And what do they look like?”
“Don’t know. Haven’t seen ‘em.”
Laughter and giggles from the daughters. Widow Cottondur replies, “What? All of our old guests have gone then? Just like that? Humph. And what happened to the nice window above the main door? Such a mess!”
Hawke is thinking about how dangerous her line of questioning is when he replies, “You won’t need to be worrying about any of that. There is one of the guests, a sort of Boss, you understand, he has asked me to make sure that you receive and accept this gift. He and his company enjoyed your stew a great deal. Sloppy eaters though…”
Shaddar listens to all of their thoughts as Hawke gives them the bribe and is pleased to note that the widow at least understands that there is some trouble in the meadhall that she should not inquire about or investigate. Both daughters are merely excited with the fine things and the gold, but the mother knows that this is a strange arrangement involving “hush-money” and that makes her very nervous – although she is striving to not show her feelings.
Soon the women go about their business. Both of the widow’s daughters remark to each other that their mother is much subdued and less talkative this morning, but they mostly go on about the things they will buy with the extra gold. The widow focuses on her work. Hawke continues worrying that somehow the violence he has had occur in his home will spill over and touch the lives of these women that he cares for.
Shaddar is content. All is well.
It is not long before the faint aromas of breakfast cooking creep through the building. This acts as a sort of alarm clock for Jorin and Bort and they are soon alert and on their way downstairs.
Shaddar was busy working with and manipulating his latest minions last night while they were talking about the arrival of the hobgoblins and drow, so he pays close attention to their thoughts and conversation this morning.
He steps out into the hall to intercept them when it becomes clear that they will require his immediate intervention and handling. Their loose lips could ruin his careful arrangements and this he will not allow.
Jorin and Bort enter the hall on Shaddar’s floor from the stairs and are surprised to see him standing there. Waiting. They quickly recover from this unexpected event and prepare themselves to plead their case. Jorin’s features are angry and filled with a self-righteous expression. Bort is attempting to be more diplomatic and is striving to hold a poker face – he should definitely never bluff while playing poker.
Jorin speaks in offended tones. “So. Boss? Are you quite sure you want to associate with the high caliber of free spirits, such as we are? Or would you rather play in the muck with your lumpy friends? For you shall not do both!”
An ultimatum?
The man continues, “All night long! Nothing but lumpy snoring. Lumpy scratching. Lumpy farting! All night, sir! Sounds–”
“And smells,” Borts adds.
Jorin continues, “–that are uncivilized and most unwelcome!”
After a brief pause while he shakes his head sadly, Jorin concludes with: “They have their places, Boss, and we have ours. It’s unseemly to mix with ‘em.”
“Oh, I do agree with you, Jorin,” Shaddar says.
Jorin’s face brightens. “Oh. Good then. So they are leaving? Good.”
Shaddar shakes his head and barks a single word, “No.”
“But you said –“ Jorin begins.
“Let me get this straight, Jorin,” Shaddar says, putting his hands on his hips, “After all my charity to you? Four percent? All the wealth and opportunity that I have brought the two of you in but a single day and you’re going to get ‘uppity’ on me?” His tentacles flail with angry gestures. “Where’s the gratitude, man?”
Jorin and Bort both look down at the floor, shame written clearly on their features.
“I am ashamed, Jorin. I am ashamed for you.” Both men shuffle their feet on the floor in a comical manner and Shaddar decides to change course slightly and end this on a positive note.
”Now. You have been raised to think a certain way about other races and I understand that. But I assure you that treating some hobgoblins and drow differently is a central part of my plan to catapult us all to the greatness our Guild deserves. Do not ruin my plans, fellows. You will agree that my methods of business are very lucrative, are they not?”
Jorin and Bort both nod. Their thoughts return to their time spent last night counting their winnings and realizing that in one night they had more gold than they usually saw in 4 months.
Shaddar’s voice warms, “There is the proof of my methods, then! And let me tell you: last night was just a trickle. A single droplet from a mighty rainstorm. We’re just getting this started. Once my full plans are in place… compounding interest, my friends! Do you know what that means?”
Bort nods, thinking about the change in his life such a vast income would mean for him.
Jorin is less certain. “Uh…” he drawls, “yeah… Of course, I do!” He has no idea what the words mean. “That’s good, right? Must be,” he thinks.
“Last night was a mere sample, a single bite from the huge feast that awaits us! All I need is your trust, men! All I need is your faith! And secrecy. Keeping all of our plans on the low-down is the only path to success in this business. You can keep secrets, can’t you?”
“Yes, Boss!” both men reply in unison.
Jorin is still a bit unwilling to live next to hobgoblins. He decides to broach the subject once more. He hesitantly says, “Of course, we’re with you, Boss. But it is a bit crowded here now…”
“It is. Yes?”
“So did you want us to find a new place to stay? Or is it part of your plan that we continue to stay up on the third floor with the… lumpys?”
Shaddar waves the query aside with one hand and turns his body partially away from the men as he answers in a disinterested voice, “I must confess that this matter is not very high on my list of priorities, men. For the time being I require you here, but once the foundational matters of the Guild are settled, then it will pose no problem for you to relocate.”
Bort puts one hand on Jorin’s arm as he thinks aloud, “Hey! If we’re really going to be making as much money as the Boss says, we can save it up and buy our own house!”
Shaddar scoffs, “Why settle for a mere house? You’ll be able to afford your own private estates soon enough. If,” he wags a finger at them, “you are planning on sticking with the plans that I have devised?”
“Of course we are, Boss,” Jorin says quickly, “You couldn’t drive us away with sticks!”
Bort is a bit smoother in his reply, “What do you need us to do today, Boss? More gossip? Or perhaps recruit?”
Jorin nods knowingly and takes over the thread of conversation, “Yes! Several of our acquaintances expressed an interest in this new Guild of ours.”
“Your task is two-fold today. First: I require more knowledge about the history of Big City. Are there any libraries or repositories of records in town? Find out and bring me their location.”
Jorin is confused. Since he is illiterate, he would not know anything about buildings full of books. Shaddar looks to Bort for a successful conclusion to this chore.
“Secondly: you will talk to those you know in a quest for more recruits. Bring them back here this evening for… evaluation.”
“Yes, Boss,” Bort says.
“We can do that, Boss,” Jorin chimes in.
“Good,” Shaddar says with a pleased expression. “I will have the other members of our Guild perform their normal activities as I have taught them. You need your four percent, after all… Well? What are you dawdling about for? Get to it!”
Both men rush downstairs to snatch a roll for breakfast, then leave to be about their duties as fast as they can.
Chapter 1 < Chapter 15 Chapter 17 >
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