Nehor (prime)/Dealing with the Devil

Dealing with the Devil

Originally posted on the official forums by FUDGEHJ on 01/09/2020 at 02:14 AM CST.

Nehor tapped his fingers idly on the wooden desk, eyes narrowed as he read the missive for a third time. Work on the Iyo project was going slowly. The freakish snows had ground construction to a halt and the transportation of supplies had been disrupted, exacerbating the issue even further. Sighing, he placed the corner of it to the candle and tossed it into the wastebin, the paper of the message curling as it slowly burnt to ash.

He stood, pacing the room, running the numbers in his head. The Council would want a report on the progress soon...and the news when it came to the Iyo was not good. Nehor did not worry overmuch, though, as the rest of the news was grand. Mistress Selbi had given them an enormous opening, one that his Flock had been quick to take advantage of. Just this evening, he and Mistress Lynaera had met with the investigator, Mister Faerinn. The evening before, with concerned visitors and residents of Mist Harbor as well as a rather productive one with Mayor Lylia.

Each had gone exactly as planned. The suggestions put forth to the townsfolk did not meet with too much pushback, and the various flock members positioned throughout the crowd took notes on who nodded too vigorously at Akenna's rudeness, or who seemed to be in disagreement too strongly with the propositions given. Their names and faces had been noted...for later. That, and the one Tatria had unwittingly helped them along by bringing up the children. Nehor smiled, smug at his own cleverness. Of course with the lost orphans having been so recent a thing, someone was bound to bring that up or something close to it. He had gambled on it being so. Much easier for the people to swallow their own suggestions, than if it had been him to bring it up.

Walking to the window, he drew back the curtains to look upon the town...torches and lamps flickering against the night. People moved easily through the streets, even at this hour, though they still did not have the easy confidence they had before the unfortunate Nazhor business. There was a general feeling of uneasiness in the air. The threat of the meek had passed, but many were still on edge. Suspicious, scared. Wondering what the next threat would be and if they could weather a new storm.

It was a perfect situation for his plans.

He had spoken briefly with Mayor Lylia, Mistress Xanthium having set up the meeting quickly after hearing of the Police Force proposition he would be presenting to Madam Selbi tomorrow. Some had submitted names for consideration, but he had filed them away alongside the burning scrap of paper that remained in the wastebin. Mistress Lynaera would be the name he brought forward to lead the group and along with the cadre of Faendryl Loyalists that the Mayor had promised him (and whom had proved so adept during the final battle against Nazhor) as a core, they would train up a force that would further the Flocks aims. Further HIS aims.

Faerinn was the last piece to this. His investigative skills would prove quite useful in tracking down the latest issue they had. This...assassin...or messenger? Whomever they were, they were a threat. Something Nehor had not planned for, did not control, was entirely ignorant on. Such a state was anathema to Lord Nehor. Information was life and it was information he lacked. Why did this person attack? Why did they use the method they did? Surely they could not think such a weak poison would succeed...so why attack at all, if lethality was not the goal?

So many questions. So little answers. Faerinn would find them. When he did, as per his newly sealed contract with the Flock, he would bring what he found to Nehor directly. Yes, perhaps he would come up empty handed...but if so, nothing was lost. Lynaera had been skeptical of the idea, but Nehor had held firm in this. The investigator had access to sources that would balk at sharing information with the Flock proper. This way, anything they divulged to him would be learnt by Nehor. Faerinn was an Honest Man and would honor his pact, would tell all he knew.

And even if he decided to betray them and not honor his bargain....

Taking out the copy of a small card he had given to Faerinn as he had left the meeting, Nehor held it to his ear and listened. Quite an interesting device the Council had provided. A Calling Card indeed. Nehor smiled as he closed his eyes, listening, as the sounds of a crowded bar slipped inside his ear and words began to be picked out amidst the tumult:

“Nehor is more skilled at this than I expected, his terms were way too reasonable. He’s got me where he wants me, and I know there is a catch I’m missing.” Nehor smiled, listening long into the night as the candle burnt itself out.