Hawke disturbs the awkward silence, “What… What are you going to do now, Boss? The whole town will stay shut down all day. We have to let the lumpys clean things up as best they can.”
Shaddar turns his attention fully to the man. Yes. Might as well begin the fellow’s instruction.
“Excellent. That will give us time to discuss our future plans. Why don’t we begin with you telling me what you plan to say when the constables come knocking the next time? Hmm?”
“Uh… What do you want me to say?”
“You know these people better than I. I care not what you tell them, so long as the end result is that they go out the door without learning anything that is none of their affair. If there is something you need me or my other… associates… to do to assist you in this task, then let me know and I will insure that you have it. All I require is the illusion of normalcy.”
Hawke is surprised at the offer of support and verbalizes it by saying, “Thanks, Boss. I can do that. Heroes and constables are… well… they’re just as dumb as they look!” His thoughts continue, “In for a penny, in for a pound. I don’t have any choice but to be a real villain now – if I want to live! The Lords of the city will make sure we all stop breathing if they find us, so I’ll do me best work for the Boss. I have to.”
Shaddar is pleased that the human has so quickly discerned the nature of the box he now sits in. “Of course, he has even fewer options than that, for even the thought of turning us in will result in me making sure he stops breathing.”
Shaddar can see from Hawke’s thoughts that he believes that this is likely and he is quite frightened now. “I’ve never been in more danger in me life,” Hawke thinks, “Working with the Guild was one thing, but The Boss isn’t just a villain – oh, no! He’s really and truly… evil... How is that even possible? I thought that the Lords of the Realm rid the entire world of true evil ages ago! The world is clean from the taint of mortal evil!”
Shaddar finds these thoughts ludicrous and his tentacles jerk wildly with amusement as he thinks, “Nope. Not even close. What a simplistic notion! ‘No evil in the world?’ Pfft. What fools these creatures are!”
Hawke continues speaking, “Let me think about how I’ll do it, Boss. I have some ideas about how to make sure the authorities leave us alone, but they need refinement. And now, if you’ll excuse me - I need a few moments to myself...” The man picks up a bottle of hard liquor and walks quickly back into his room with his thoughts churning. He doesn’t want to get drunk, but he may need more than one shot to steady his nerves after the shocking revelations he has endured this day.
“As you wish, Hawke,” Shaddar murmurs kindly.
The question of Hawke has been settled to Shaddar’s satisfaction. For the time being, at least.
“It is unfortunate that I can not create new thralls at the moment,” Shaddar thinks as he watches at his newest minion depart, “It would be useful to completely insure the future obedience of Hawke.” Usually it takes a group of illithids working together to summon the psychic energy required to permanently bind another being to service. Perhaps he can find others of his race? But – this close to the surface, with a group of sheep who have never seen the results of an illithid feeding? No. It is not likely that there are more of his kind nearby. Of course, it is not unheard of for a single potent member of his race to learn to create thralls alone, so he will just have to be patient and become incredibly powerful in his own right.
“An excellent plan… But this is enough woolgathering! Back to work!”
Shaddar scans the building mentally to see how the rest of his minions fare and what they are up to.
Loolipo has still not returned from the tasks she was given in the slums. Not unexpected.
Everyone else seems to be here and are working as he instructed, with the exception of Jorin and Bort who are still fearfully hiding in their room.
Shaddar first visits with the drow whose rooms are on the first floor. Evicurra is most glad to see him.
“Oh, benefactor! I feel guilty just sitting in my room. Is there not some task that I can do? I enjoy work and helping others and you have been so kind,” she gushes while petting her silk dress absently with one hand.
“Yes, you may be helpful. The normal help for Hawke left early, so I’m sure there is some assistance you can render. Come.”
Shaddar leads the way into the kitchen area and knocks on Hawke’s door.
The door opens and Shaddar explains that he has a part-time assistant, should he desire it, when Widow Cottondur and her daughters are not on the premises. Hawke has had more than a couple shots and is a bit pickled, but he nods enthusiastically.
“Sure. She can clean up and maybe make us some supper, eh?”
“Right away!” the woman says cheerfully. Shaddar is a bit concerned that Hawke will recognize the elvish lilt to her voice, but he is distracted – thinking about other matters…
Shaddar leaves them both to return to his tour of the building. He next visits Masaxle in his room.
Apparently, Cutt delivered the box of parchment and charcoals because now two entire walls are plastered with designs and mock-ups of architecture and sculpture. All of it with a distinctive drow style. The man is certainly a talented artist with a fine and steady hand.
Masaxle waves his hand to sweep past all of his work and speaks excitedly, “Behold, Avatar! I have captured the spirit of the vision you shared with me and have begun to expand upon the themes I saw!” Shaddar makes the appropriate noises, but he is a little concerned. The drow looks distinctly feverish and wan. Shaddar wonders if he has stopped to eat or drink all day.
“It will do me little good to have such a talented and potentially useful minion abuse themselves into an early grave. That would be most inefficient. I will see to this problem,” Shaddar thinks.
Masaxle paces around the room with a manic bounce of energy. “So many ideas! But, Avatar! Drawing is not enough! No! I must create in stone what I have seen – what I feel! Tell me, Avatar what should I carve first? How large should it be? Where shall I display it once it is done?”
Shaddar chuckles at the infectious excitement of the drow, “Calmly, Masaxle! There is time for all things.”
“But my people must be made to see what they really are! This art moves me in ways I have never heard of before and I wish to share it with my people who are downtrodden under the oppression of a cultural amnesia! Guide me, Oh Avatar!”
“Of course,” Shaddar soothes, “What you should carve first is a new design. Allow my to describe it to you: Create a black spider, like the one in this drawing,” he points, “but replace the head with an upraised representation of my own demeanor. Your first physical design should be a combination of praise for your heritage and gratitude to the Avatar that has returned it to you.”
“Of course!” the man is bouncing on his heels. “Forgive me for not thinking of it myself!”
Shaddar waves this oversight away, “Blame not yourself, Masaxle! After all, I am the Avatar of Inspiration – it’s my job.” Inside he is laughing. By putting an illithid spin on the new drow art resurgence, he will tie their entire culture to him. He wonders if the distinctive head shape will trigger any memories in any of the drow Elders? That will be something to look for once it is unveiled: recognition.
“Avatar, I must have a bigger place than this to work. May I be permitted to return to my own workshop? There I already have the tools and the lumpy servants to assist me in completing the statue quickly.”
“Will you be disturbed there?”
“No. I will tell anyone who asks that I have been given a special commission for a most important person.”
“Very well. Pack your drawings and prepare to depart for your workshop.” Shaddar is pleased. The less the natives are out of their normal element and routines, the less suspicion there will be. He raises on finger and continues speaking, “However, do not yet show anyone not in our company your work. Store it. Protect it. And when you have enough, we will display it all at once for maximum impact.”
“Like an art galley showing? Like an exhibit?”
“Exactly. This whole city will become the locale for your opening exhibit. Now, I may send someone with you in order to see to your needs. For now, begin packing your new portfolio up.”
“Oh, yes! At once!”
Shaddar walks out to chat with Evicurra about Masaxle. As he explains that the man is completely lost in his work, he can see an amazing amount of compassion in the woman’s thoughts. Most unlike a proper drow woman, but he is willing to use whatever advantage he can get. Shaddar asks her to ensure that the artist is taken care of in terms of warmth, food, drink, and sleep and she agrees most happily to accompany him and insure that he stays in good health.
This done, Shaddar walks upstairs to see how his thralls are doing. From their thoughts much progress is being made. He visits the gnome first.
Cutt has unloaded and sorted all of the gear and alchemical paraphernalia that they purchased earlier. Cutt is very excited again with all of the goods he has to work with and chatters on aimlessly, as if Shaddar cares about the minor details of his labors. No, what most concerns Shaddar is the thrall’s feet.
The gnome has taken his new boots off and Shaddar is not sure he approves of this. He is certain that he told all of his thralls to remain in costume at all times! The gnome is limping around the room that has been set aside for his alchemy lab with his feet swaddled with cotton rags. Clearly he has many painful blisters. Shaddar decides that he will let the minor disobedience slide this time. “My help must remain functional, I suppose. I’m sure I can find some way to passively-aggressively make him pay in full for the flaunting of my rules later.”
As a down payment, Shaddar leaves the room without saying a word in response to the gnome’s prattle. He moves across the hall to his own chambers where he can sense Toothsnatcher and the hobgoblins working.
Shaddar notes with satisfaction that the door to his room has been repaired and re-hung. Inside, the minotaur, Kug, and the three hobgoblins from the brothel are hard at work, repairing the window, by boarding it up.
Kug smiles with a toothy maw as he sees Shaddar, “Master! Look what we done! I sent Kodarm out for the stuff to fix it up.”
The scrawny hobgoblin male looks a bit sheepish and adds, “If you wanted us to put in new glass, I can do that, but I’ll have to go talk to the palehair glaziers and I didn’t want to go that far without knowing what you wished.”
“No, this will be fine,” Shaddar says. He turns to Toothsnatcher and mentally queries, “And what of the strength-building exercises and the combat training with Kug?”
Toothsnatcher snorts a bit as he replies verbally, “We did all that. The weak ones will take a while to get into shape, but it’ll happen eventually. Kug and me had a grand time. He’s a good listener and follows my movements well. He’d be dead in minutes alone in the Underdark, but up here? He’ll wreck some faces good.”
Kug slaps his hands together and barks, “Yeah! When can I do some of that, Master? Me can’t wait to crunch some humans! I’m ready!” Seeing that Shaddar is not quite enthusiastic, Kug pleads his case further, “I know there won’t be many peoples out there today, but there will be many strong hobgoblins working at moving rocks – maybe I can get them to join our army, huh?”
“An impressive notion, Kug… Very well. You and Toothsnatcher may go hunting. Bring back all the spoils you can and tell any hobgoblins who feel as you do to visit the meadhall later tonight.”
Kug is ablaze with excitement! It is clear from his thoughts that there is a growing bond, or some one-way hero-worship at least, between the hobgoblin and the minotaur. Fine. Both of them head out after Toothsnatcher tells the other hobgoblins to finish the window repair while they are gone.
Chapter 1 < Chapter 20 Chapter 22 >
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